#It's so fun to see old videos where they mention things that they actually get to develop later
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in one of the twitch fantasy high talkback episodes brennan mentions making characters for a weird haunted fairytale campaign and its so funny cause siobhan immediately responds that she wants to play jack and the beanstalk and shes calling it before beardsley gets to it
now in neverafter they're running a weird haunted fairytale campaign and ally's character has the closest relationship with jack and the beanstalk lol
#neverafter#dimension 20#It's so fun to see old videos where they mention things that they actually get to develop later#like in another episode brennan mentions wanting to do a starstruck campaign and I'm like!!!!! dreams come true!!!!!#he mentions a pied piper character while they're talking about this so maybe that's someone they'll meet in neverafter???#I need to watch everything on dropout now to find out what next seasons might be#I'm like the dog that found a pie in a bush now I have to always check out the magic pie bush except its d20 seasons on old dropout content#dropout
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Yan! Hacker × GN Reader , drabble
—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕
Yan! Hacker who jerks off to the live video of you touching yourself while watching some porn from the website. You should have unplugged the webcam from your PC darling, you never know who is currently watching you through it right?
Yan! Hacker who knows just what kind of videos you enjoy watching. He has your whole browser history, including the porn sites you visit every time you feel sexually frustrated.
Yan! Hacker who does feel a pang of guilt for doing these to you, tapping and hacking all your stuff just to satiate his needs. Oh gosh, look at you wearing that flimsy shirt, he can see your nipples perking through!
Yan! Hacker who wishes he could just visit you and rail you dumb just like what the people are doing in the video. You really like vocal men huh? As much as he is the silent type, he could try grunting or letting his moans slip if you'd just let him slip his cock inside you!
Yan! Hacker who has everything on record, the video of you touching yourself including the audio where you are whimpering at your own touch. Oh, you look so ravishing and adorable! He feels the need to blackmail you just to see your face pale up for fun but that would be a boomerang for him because you'd shut yourself.
Yan! Hacker who won't stop jerking off even though you are long wasted already. No, he still wants more. The old recordings could help him while he watches you sleep, pleased after your previous masturbation.
Yan! Hacker who zooms the video until it's pixelated just to get a close-up of your sleeping figure, his tip smearing the screen with his precum as his hand pumps his shaft fastly, audio of you moaning playing in his headset.
Yan! Hacker who wishes he could just fuck your mouth as you dazed away in your sleep. His hand will play with your nipple while the other hand strokes your hair, he knows you like it when people stroke your hair after all.
Yan! Hacker who trembles as he thinks of the audio playing in his headset as you moan into his ears, his hand as your hand, and the video as you yourself.
"Fucking take it all..."
Yan! Hacker who cums right into the screen, he'll clean the mess later but for now, he wants you all to himself virtually. He will play another video of you, this time in a different setting. Just how many hidden cameras has he set inside your place?
Yan! Hacker who contemplates whether he should just make things easier by confessing to you or keep things as it is. It's not like he doesn't have a chance, judging by how you hump the pillow while moaning his name out.
'Seth, Seth...'
Yan! Hacker who will for sure fuck you dumb the moment the two of you become official. The bed will be creaking until the sun rises and you'll need to change your bedsheet again unless you want to sleep on a damp, smelly bed. As much as he'd like to just fuck you raw, he's still considerate enough to slip on the condom from future problems.
"God, what the fuck are you Seth? A stallion? We've been doing this for hours!" You yelled at him while you stuff your mouth with your pillow, his cock hammering into you with his hand spanking your ass every once in a while.
"I'm no stuck in like you said," right, you once teased him for being a disgusting otaku back when the two of you were transmigrated into that damn game, "seems like you are the hikikomori here? How adorable ♡"
Yan! Hacker might not look like it but he's actually a fit figure, not to mention one of his favorite sports being basketball because of his friend.
#Seth the Resistance#yandere male#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere scenarios#yandere x you#yandere imagines#male yandere#yandere insert#yandere oc#yandere headcanons#yandere works#yandere smut#yandere writing#reader insert#x reader#oc#x gn reader#LIfE Project
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The Dork And The Nerd
Hello there!
I didn't post anything with Leah since like for ever, so there it is!
Please enjoy :)
TW : None I think, or please let me know :)
Looking around the room, you readjust the camera one last time before starting your stream. It’s your job, even if some people are still saying that it isn’t a real job and stupid things like that.
You were winning your life easily with it, living your dream. You always loved playing video games, you started alone because it wasn’t what your little sisters were loving to do. When you discovered online games it was a life changing for you. You started streaming when you were 18 years old, which was seven years ago now. It was hard at first to be honest, being a woman in this man world.
But you find some friends in popular streamers who took you under their wings and help you to be where you are now.
You have several thousand people who follow you to each of your live, four night each week. You still have some shit to deal with, like harassers, but you took a manager who is the one reading your mail. He takes on him to choose your different partnership and sometimes answer to the people sending you strange things.
You are openly gay, but that doesn’t make stop some of men to send you disturbing pictures. Thanks god it’s your agent who see them, but you are aware of it. Just like your girlfriend, though.
You start your stream like usual, saying hello to your followers and talking a little bit about actuality or what you did today. You have a white kitten, who you called Purrito, who is almost as famous as you are. He keeps coming when you are playing, sometimes lying on your hand, or trying to catch the mouse of your computer. You already have a lot of bloopers because of him, but you can’t be mad with him.
Lately, your passion for video games seems to have catch the attention of your girlfriend. She always was looking at you when you are streaming, when she can. You usually do it during the evening so she’s back from training or games.
When Leah asked you to learn to her how to play video games, at first you thought she was messing with you. But she was really serious and ask you one more time. And who are you to refuse something to your girlfriend?
At first it was just to have fun, but you soon have an idea, and you used your best puppy eyes to get your girlfriend agreed with it. You wanted to make her play with you, but without her showing her face in your screen.
You never talked about Leah being your girlfriend, even if you are together for two years now. The public know that you are in a relationship, you sometimes mention your girlfriend live. They just don’t know who she is.
You met Leah at a ceremony and Katie who is a fan of your job took Leah when she went to met you. You were happy to met Katie, but you find yourself thunderstruck by Leah. You don’t remember if you were really coherent that night, but Leah followed you back almost immediately when you did it on Instagram.
You waited the next Arsenal games to sent her a message, congratulating her for her performance. You even take a picture of you in the stand with your father (who really was surprised when you ask him to go with you to a women football game). Leah answered you that next time you come you have to tell her, so she could give you a better seat.
You didn’t know if she was serious or not, but she then asked you the next game in London if you are coming and she find you a seat in the friends and family area. After the game she offers you to go for a drink. You then had other dates, and the rest is history.
You got together one month before she did her ACL and even if it was a hard time, you both get stronger. You let Lia Wälti take the lead in Leah’s recovery, but you were always around to help too. When Lia return to her home, you were the one staying with Leah at night. And you kept taking her in her rehab and cooking for her.
The day Leah started to run again, you were at the training to watch her. This is the day where she officially asked you to move in with her now that she could do things alone again. Unless cooking maybe, but that’s another question.
You accepted of course and the blonde happily transformed one of her guest room in your studio of stream.
It’s where you are now, Leah peacefully setting on your living room, ready to go live with you.
“Oh, it looks like our guest is here” you smile when you see that Leah is connected too. “Hi Baby!”
You only said to your viewers that it was your girlfriend, without saying anything else. You are aware that maybe someone will recognize Leah’s voice, but it would be fun anyway.
“Hi Love” she answers.
You make a reminder of the game you were going to play, for her first live Leah chose a car games, Trackmania. It wasn’t your favorite game, but you were so happy that she said yes to you that you would have accept a Tetris game.
“How are you?” you ask her, while making the game ready.
“I’m fine. Happy to play with you tonight.”
“I am happy too” you smile before looking at the camera. “Let’s have her a good evening guys so she will accept to do it more often yeah?”
You hear Leah chuckle, and you can’t help but smile. You already are seeing comments saying that you look whipped, what makes you roll your eyes. It seems to you that Leah’s voice is a little different from what it is in reality, but maybe your mind is playing trick.
You play several runs with Leah, before switching to another game after talking with your chat who recommend to you to make Leah try an adventure RPG. When you look at the clock again, it’s past midnight.
“Oh wow I didn’t realize that it was already so late” you exclaimed yourself. “We are going to stop here guys, I’m sorry. Maybe next time we will try Minecraft or something else, I’ll let you know. I hope you had as fun as I had Babe.”
“It was really fun. Thank you for inviting me.”
You can hear Leah smile and you can’t wait to go to the living room for a cuddle and kiss session. When you played together until know, you were able to show each other or tease the other with kisses.
“You will be invited for more times” you smirk.
Leah left and you take the time to thanks your viewers a little more longer before logging off. You stretch, finishing your bottle of water before going to find Leah. You run on the stairs and Leah already knew you were coming before you jump on the couch next to her.
She laughs when you attack her with kisses all over her face, finishing on her lips.
“Did you really have fun?” you ask, looking at her with attention.
She nods, playing with your hair. She’s smiling and every time you look at her, you wonder how in the world you get so lucky. She’s perfect.
“I did” she smiles at you. “I’m not saying that I want to do that all the night every night, but it was great.”
“Mh I maybe have another idea for us to have fun all night” you smirk.
The tone of your voice is very obvious and if Leah had one doubt, she just has to look the way you are looking at her. Your fingers run on her tight and you kiss her one more time, before sucking slightly at her neck.
Leah gulp and just hums, tilting her head on the side for you to have a better access. You know what you are doing, after more than two years, you know Leah’s body and reactions like the back of your hand.
“Let’s go to bed” Leah decides several seconds after, taking your hand before dragging you in your bedroom on the first floor.
********
“It was a great session.”
You smile at Leah who came to your studio after you played together again. You were still sitting when she entered the room, and she passed her hand around your shoulder from behind to kiss your cheek.
“It was” you smile before turning your chair to face Leah.
She sits on your lap, and you pass your arms around her. It wasn’t the second time that you are playing together while you are streaming, today you chose Fifa and it was very fun. You made the pact not to play with Arsenal or England, but it was still very funny. Leah is a very bad looser, so you play several games in the same team too.
“People are starting to have some suspicion though” Leah says.
She was right, you saw on social media some things about your girlfriend being Leah. But it wasn’t the only name coming.
“Yeah, they said I will make a great couple with some of your teammates too” you shrug, before counting on your fingers “They are talking about Sabrina, Alessia, Kyra and Lia.”
Leah frown, not really liking the picture who comes in her mind.
“Nah. You’re mine.” she answers possessively.
“Do you want to tell people?”
Leah looks at you, thinking for several seconds before answering. This is lasting for some weeks now and you know that you can’t stay hidden forever. You attract the attention of the world by playing together.
“Not now. It’s fun like this, don’t you think?”
“It is” you confirm with a smile.
Leah has the habit to be coupled with every teammate and you are sometimes shipped with other streamers. You like to stream with other of them, certain being your friends too. There is nothing much, but that doesn’t stop people to imagine that you are dating one of them.
But you have to admit too that your stream with Leah attracts more people than usual, and you are a little scared that people will assume that you’re using your girlfriend for the views.
Your face being very close to Leah, she seems to realize very quickly that something is on your mind.
“What’s the matter?” she asks.
“Nothing” you say at first, before sighing. “Well, I mean… I already have some viewers saying that I’m using my girlfriend to gain more viewers, so I was wondering how they would react when they realize it’s you.”
You shrug to show her that it’s not really important, you don’t want to think you are worried about something so little.
“If someone say that you know what my answer will be?” Leah asks with a serious face.
“No” you mumble.
“I will tell them that we are together for two years, that you have been the best girlfriend in the world since. I will tell them how affectionate, caring, sweet, funny, clever and passionate you are.”
You can’t help but smile and feel your cheek being a little red at that statement. Leah smirks and kisses your cheek.
“And I’ll add that if you use me, it’s only in the bedroom and the way you do is actually very talented and also very private.”
You laugh this time, hitting her on the arm. Leah seems very happy about her joke, her eyes shinning with malice. She’s so beautiful. You bite her jaw before whispering.
“You’re such a dork.”
“The Nerd and the Dork, it would be a great book title” she smirks.
“You’re not totally wrong.”
********
“You’re cheating!”
You can’t help but laugh at Leah. You are playing once again against your girlfriend, during a live. You are playing at Mario Kart and you just won the race for the third time in a row. She’s fuming and even if you can’t see her, the noise coming from downstairs are letting you know that she’s actually kicking the ground right now.
“I’m not, Baby I swear. You can’t cheat in this game.”
“Yes, you are!”
You roll your eyes, not answering anything. You are of course very aware about of much your girlfriend hates to lose. You are at the first place while Leah is third, which is really good for someone who isn’t playing video games daily like you. But not for the great Leah Williamson.
“Someone in the comment is saying that I will sleep on the couch. I won’t Babe, right?”
“I’m not sure about it for now” Leah grumbles. “Or maybe I’ll go sleep to the trai…”
You cough suddenly and Leah stops talking, realizing what she was just about to say. You really hope that no one would understand what she was going to say. Or at least another end of sentence, not “training ground”.
“Alright, next game” you say right after.
“I’m gonna crush you.”
She doesn’t and when you join her in the kitchen after, she seems really embarrassed. You ignore the different messages asking what Leah wanted to say and the answer some of them gave. You saw that some people where right and you know that the research will start again.
“I’m so sorry” she says, coming for you while you’re entering the room. “I was fuming because I was losing, and I forgot for some seconds that it wasn’t only you and me.”
You smile, easily passing your arms around her to give her a hug. She cuddles against you when you kiss her temple.
“It’s ok, don’t worry. Plus, you are the most famous between the both of us, you will be the most annoyed by all that.”
“Why would I be annoyed?”
Leah back up her head a little bit, just to be able to have a better look at your face. You arch an eyebrow before answering.
“Because you always told me you want privacy.”
It was in the early hours of your relationship, and you never said anything against it. You understood Leah’s needs, at this time you weren’t as famous as you are right now. She wanted to be known for her skills, her job in football or her implications in different charities. And the point was very easy for you to be understood. Your friends are families know obviously about you two, it would be strange and difficult to hide a relationship when you live together. Plus because of her answer last time you talked about it, you were really sure that it was what she want.
“I told you that at first, but now I wouldn’t mind if people start to know about us.”
She shrugs like it’s nothing, but your mind just blown. You were used to the idea of people stay in the ignorance about your relationship and the love you have for this woman. As long as you have her, why would you complain?
“Do you… Really?” you frown.
“Yeah, I mean if you don’t want to be out…”
“No, I do. I just thought that you would like to stay private for like forever?”
“I love you. I want the world to know how happy you make me. But in several weeks. I want to play with your fans a little more.”
“Sounds good to me” you smirk. “And I love you too.”
********
For the next weeks, you chose one day of the week to play and stream with Leah. Between those days, you were careful to post some things on social media, giving little clues to your followers about the identity of your girlfriend. You never posted something with Leah or even with a part of her hand or hair. It was more subtle than that.
Until one day, where you were peacefully streaming while Leah went out with her friends. You usually go with her, but today it was more an unexpected drink, so you already have something planned on your channel. You have an entire trust in Leah, and you know that nothing would ever happen with anyone. If you go with her almost every time, it’s only to have a great time with her.
Plus, tonight she’s out with Katie, Caitlin, Steph, her boyfriend, and Kyra, so there are really no risks.
You usually wait for Leah to text you that she was coming home to cut your stream, so you have the time to finish what you are doing and say goodbye to your viewers. Tonight though, either you didn’t see her message, or she forgot to send it to you.
Still, there is suddenly a stunning blonde who enters your studio, showing herself in the camera at the same time. You are so surprised that you only can look at her on the screen of your camera.
“Hello Hot stuff! You won’t believe what I just learned about Kyra! Did you k- … Oh shit.”
That’s the moment she realizes. It was almost comical to be honest, the enthusiastic tone with which she began her sentence, the moment of silence and the last words spoken in a low voice.
You only have like two seconds to decide if you want to cut the stream and never talk about it again, or if it’s time to be honest with everyone. You chose a third way and turn to the camera.
“Well it’s time for me to say goodbye. See you tomorrow at eight. Thanks for being here!”
You wave and cut the stream and the camera before turning in Leah’s direction. She seems amused but she has at the same time the same look on the face of a teenager caught doing something wrong.
“Funny way to outing things, this clip will be viral” you comment with a small smile.
“I’m sorry?”
Leah can’t hide her smile and you can’t either. You can be mad at her for something like that. You let Leah comes to sit on your lap, kissing her softly when she’s settled. She taste like tequila.
“How was your night?”
“Great. But I missed you.”
She hides her face in your neck, and you feel the goosebumps forming when her breath stroke your skin.
“Did you have fun?”
She hums, start to kiss your neck and you know that the discussion you were supposed to have right now is delayed for now. You will have a lot of time to talk about it later. Your phones are way too busy receiving tons notifications to be able to do anything with it right now anyway.
********
YourInstagram and LeahWilliamson
liked by liawalti, leahwilliamson, alessia, bethmead and 199,937 others
YourInstagram Two years and a half with this dork. I love you ❤️🤍
comments have been limited
leahwilliamson I love you more my Nerd ❤️🤍
#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso fanfics#leah williamson#leah williamson x you#leah williamson imagine#leah williamson x reader
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🎩
You're Off-key
Prologue
Reader X Gravity Falls
Warnings ⚠
⚠ The Book of Bill SPOILERS HERE! Do NOT read if you don't want any spoils of the book. Other than that, enjoy. -mentions of madness, blood, cryptids, italics= thoughts, ya know..the usual. Oh! And for our old pal Stan, some swear words. ⚠
You missed this.
Being one of the weird kids who loved the supernatural, interested in solving puzzles, uncovering secrets. Of course you ended up watching Gravity Falls.
Never really growing out of it, you'd still watch videos about ghosts or getting a heavy duty flashlight and a pair of brass knuckles for whatever made a noise in your apartment.
Ghost or not, they'd learn not to mess with you!
At some point you got The Book of Bill.
It was so cool! Little funny and silly at times. There was also the triangle's descent into madness. Man those pictures were good.
Also an axolotl?
You don't know but it looked cute.
As you kept reading, the more you wanted to experience everything you didn't get to when you were younger.
So you decided on a road trip!
A road trip to all the places that inspired the creator of the show and the final stop would be Bill's statue!
Best friend in the passenger seat! Sun glasses in the glove boxes! And snacks to last you a while before the next gas station stop!
You even brought a camera!
"Ready for the time of your life?", you asked excitedly.
"In this heat?", your best friend fanned their face with the paper map. "It'll be meh but yeah, I'm ready for the car AC."
You both were in the car, ready to begin the adventure to Oregon, but you were just double checking before it actually began.
"Ok, ok. I'll start the car.", you said and put the key in the ignition, turning it and starting the car.
Immediately putting the AC on high, both of you were ready and you slowly backed out the driveway.
"Let's get that fucking pie!", you said and put on the sun glasses.
It was really bright today.
First you went to the famous diner with the pie. It was a give in, honestly but the pie was really good. Next to the Oregon Vortex. Now that was a really weird shack! Everything was leveled but you were standing slanted a bit. Then you both went to every roadside attraction that you could and got some key chains for souvenirs. It's been really clear weather since you started the road trip, which was a bit of a surprise. It was supposed to sprinkle at some point.
Finally, the last thing on the list arrived.
Playing the song "We'll Meet Again" by Vera Lynn as you drove to the parking area and both of you were singing along to it before you had to turn off the car.
You brought The Book of Bill for fun.
Deciding to joke around, you bought some spaghetti to go and went to park the car before venturing into the woods where Bill's Statue was.
"Are you seriously gonna try it?", your best friend laughed.
"Why not?", you smiled while putting a water bottle in your pack. "It's ok to be silly. Mabel says so. Trust the silliness!"
"Yeah, ok.", they agreed with a smile. "If we get mauled by a bear, I'm sacrificing you first."
.....
"Fair."
Camera, spaghetti, book of Bill, and water! (Also a flashlight.) You were ready for a photo shoot with the oh so famous Dream Demon!
Looking back to see the sun, you guessed that you had about two hours to find Bill's statue before it got too dark. Your best friend had a map they downloaded off the internet that would lead you straight to it. Of course, with you having some attention issues, you'd get sidetracked by anything you found interesting, hence needing the two hours.
⯅
You were right!
The two hours were needed because you were still trying to solve one of the codes in the book, while also getting distracted by some cool looking bugs around the area.
"Did you try the Caesar cipher?", your friend asked.
"Yeah, but this is new. It's something else.", you sighed. "I should have tried the website before leaving.", you grumbled sadly.
"Hey, it's totally fine!", they said and patted your back a few times. "You'll get to do that when we go back home.", then they pointed towards the right with their thumb. "By the way, Bill statue is next to us, over by those bushes."
"WHAT!?", you screeched and ran over, whispering a few ouches as the branches of the bush scratched your legs.
That's when you saw it.
In all of its odd glory was the Bill statue with its hand out, waiting for a hand shake.
"Eeeeee!", you cheered as you got closer, hearing your friend laugh behind you as you did so. "I gotta give him spaghetti!"
Opening up your bag, you took out the take-out box that held the noodley deliciousness and took a quick forkfull for yourself before putting it in front of the stone triangle.
"I really thought you were joking.", says your friend as they watch you take out the book and camera from your backpack.
"Nope!", you smile, snapping a quick picture of the statue with spaghetti. "Ok, now for the silliest part."
You take out Parmesan cheese and a cheese grater.
"Oh this is fucking hilarious.", your best friend says and takes pictures of you with their phone.
The sun hits the horizon and the sky is slowly darkening, you start grating the cheese and when you think it's enough, you stop.
"Hey, take a pic with me shaking his hand.", you say and get closer to the statue, reaching out to touch it.
"Sure thing jellybean.", they say and lift their phone up. "It's my turn after you."
"Ok!", you say and put a thumbs up as you put your other hand on the statue's.
As you look to where your best friend is, all you can see is darkness.
You call their name in confusion. "Are you there?", you ask. "Turn on the flashlight, its really dark out here."
But you get no response.
And then you hear something odd.
Kinda sounds like someone with a weird sound filter over their laughing.
"Ok, ha ha.", you roll your eyes. "Quit playing the Bill audio and take the picture already."
When you try to get a better hold on the statue, you realize you weren't holding anything at all.
"What?", you say and look at your hand. "Wait.. Why can I see my hand perfectly fine when everything else is-"
"Well, well, well!", says a familiar voice from behind you.
What?
Turning around you see a floating, glowing Dorito chip with a fancy bow tie and a top hat.
Holy shit.
"Here we are at last! I've been waiting an eternity to meet you."
How is this happening? Was one of the snacks you ate expired? Did you eat the wrong brownies!?
"Thanks for reading my best seller kid!", Bill says and twirls his cane into existence in his hand. "And for the handshake.", he blinks. Winks?
"Wait, hold on! I-!", you start.
"See you in Gravity Falls!", the triangle snaps his fingers and suddenly there's a hole beneath your feet that reveals a cartoon animated forest.
"Wha-"
"Don't break your neck on the way down!", the one eyed demon waves.
And you begin to fall.
ZKDW D QLFH VXQQB GDV
~Seline, the person.
Part 1
Taglist@
@+?
YO-🎹 | GF List🏞️
#gravity falls x reader#bill cipher#the book of bill mention#Mabel pines#Mabel pines mentioned#gravity falls fic#gravity falls fanfiction#swearing#song mention#we'll meet again#don't know where#don't know when#but I know we'll meet again#some sunny day#codes#gravity falls#road trip! Woooo!#omg pie#fuck yeah!#now I want pie#pieeeeeeeeee#fanfic#fanfiction#prologue#book of bill spoils in this fic!
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Tease
summary: a poorly written horny montage of Patrick’s crush on you and how he uses sexual urges to mask the fact he’s completely head over heels for you
warnings: teasing, unprotected sex, mention of oral f!receiving, kissing, kissing Art onceee one timeee, a slight moment of misreading but it’s not actually misreadingggg
Oh Patrick is insane when he has a crush on you. Absolutely insane, he turns himself into this stupid fucking dick of a jock when you’re around during practice, playing to impress you as if his tennis swing will make you fall into his lap, his bed…
He balances the innocence of his crush on you with the idea of you on your knees and he can’t help but wonder what you feel like. And it’s only to combat the feeling that he wants to take you out on a real date, do stupid shit with you like take walks and watch rom-coms and kiss the tears off your face when you’re crying over some animal video you saw online. His method is effective but nothing ever beats the idea of you being his best friend and girlfriend all in one. Nothing beats the idea of coming home to you at the end of a day. He’s turning into some wholesome freak and it’s scaring him.
When you’re talking he hears every word you say but with a slight echo because he’s busy wondering when it’s appropriate to kiss you between sentences. You’re his friend, you’ll meet him after class but in his head it’s terrifying and completely thrilling that you want to spend time with him. Usually he’d be cocky about it but with you he feels like he’s 13 with a schoolboy crush the way you reduce his stomach to butterflies. A schoolgirl crush maybe.
And when you’re with him on the bleachers and your hand rests on his knee he wonders about how your hand would feel wrapped around him and he can’t help it, it’s the only thing he can do to keep from telling you that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and to combat the idea that he wants to wake up next to you for the rest of his life because he’s just that sure that you’re it. It’s going to be you.
Art knows Patrick has a problem. At the mention of your name his neck snaps to pay attention, even after his own name was called about ten times. Art just chuckles. “You’re going to have to tell her sooner or later. Pretty sure she’s got you figured out, bud.”
And yes, you have an inkling that he likes you but the extent of which you have no idea. He has no idea that when his hands slip down his boxers at night while he reminds himself of how perfect you are, your hand makes it’s own way down your stomach and breaks your waistband, thinking about him too.
You’d never say it. The crush he has is something you like to play around with. It’s fun to make a twenty-year-old man blush.
Art and Patrick invite you to pregame a party and you show up with a case of twisted tea and a miniskirt with (thank god) shorts built in but the presence of your perfect thighs in his line of sight, of course you notice how he zones out on your body. Of course his eyes linger on your hips, your thighs, your chest, it’s what keeps him from thinking about how gorgeous your smile is and how much he wants to see it between kisses, in between breaths.
Then there’s the day you show up to tennis in a halter top and even Art is a little distracted by the low cut. The other girls practicing on the court all want to know where you got it because it held the girls sooo well during practice. Patrick missed almost every ball you hit at him. He tried. You smirked and you were so so pretty as you cheered at all the extra points that came from distracting him.
The flirting was occasionally physical. Patrick sometimes allowed himself the grace of a hand on your back when you were next to him and you didn’t seem to mind. It wasn’t exactly flirting but it sure felt like it.
Patrick is a pretty physical guy altogether, his spatial awareness not great but also partially something unintentional. So when his face gets close to yours in conversation, you never bat an eye. But you do bat your eyelashes and listen to him forget what he was going to say or begin to stumble over his words. It always feels a little emasculating, but Patrick loves it, surprisingly. You turn him into something weak. Nobody has ever done that to him before.
You in your short skirts and low cut shirts and you with your perfect body making it absolutely impossible to avoid looking at you, but helping so much to distract from the fact you’re kind and sweet and completely perfect. The need to run his hands over your waist, hips, and ass is the perfect distraction from the want to kiss your cheek, nose, and forehead. Fuck!
It’s so fun to drink with him and call him pretty with his face so close to yours you can smell the fizz of the orange soda he mixed with his vodka. Fun to smirk and rest your finger under his chin and talk to him with your noses practically touching. Fun to sit on his lap just because it’s ‘comfortable’ and feel him struggle to hide the fact he’s hard. He’s looking at Art for help but Art knows it’s not true misery- he’s doing Patrick a favour.
Having Patrick in your dorm room late at night and you’re in these short, loose pajama shorts that show off your ass and bending to pick up your laundry off the floor. Watching his jaw slack just a little and seeing him scramble to pretend he was looking elsewhere. He’s a mess over you, going home and jerking himself off to all the dirty imagery you’ve given him just by being around him. He’s breathing hard by the end of it and he’s completely spent and he’s been home ten minutes having come three fucking times.
Going to a diner with Patrick and Art and both boys are all-too focused on the way you eat the strawberry from the side of your milkshake. You blink, looking at them both as they act as if they were staring at the menu.
The second the boys are alone back at Art’s dorm Patrick is gushing. “You see what she does? It’s like it’s on purpose.”
“No, I- I definitely see that,” Art says. “She’s always like that? Even when it’s just you two?”
“Always. She wears the least amount of clothes possible, she’s touching… me, she’s got this smirk, this sly one- I think she’s trying to kill me.”
Art agrees and admits that he can see what Patrick sees in you aside from the fact you act a bit like a slut when he’s around. But Art has observed you in other settings and you’re no slut in general. The second Patrick is home his hand is down his boxers thinking about how it’s all for him, seeing the intention through your actions.
And the next time you’re with him you’re in another short skirt and crop top as well as one of Patrick’s big zip up hoodies on and he’s trying to look past how it feels to see you sit so pretty in his clothes. His crush is absolutely massive and unfortunately so is his dick, so hard that it hurts, as he imagines fucking you right there right then. That short skirt bunching around your waist as you bounce on his cock… the idea of it is all too much.
You move closer to him and you ask him a question but he’s not hearing it. He’s too focused on the fact you’re not wearing a bra under your tank top. Your pointer finger taps under his chin and his face is so close to yours. He answers your question, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips and that beautiful smirk spreads up your face again. He looks half drunk on you, his eyes so half-lidded. He’s imagining his fingers in your mouth instead of thinking about what it would be like to kiss you.
His crush is driving him insane and he would have kissed you if he didn’t have to go meet Art in ten minutes. He knows you know he likes you. You know he knows you like him and the second he’s gone you’re on your bed with your hand down your underwear because there’s nothing more fun than the game you’re playing with him but the game doesn’t get you what you need. Not yet.
“I want to fuck her so bad,” Patrick confesses to Art over his beer. “It’s not even funny anymore.”
“I’m with you,” Art says after hearing the whole story. “I mean I would… I would be the same way.”
“You think she wants me too?” He asked. He hated sounding like he had a nerdy crush on some popular girl. “I mean- fuck, honestly. I’m going to lose my mind over her.”
Art just nods in agreement.
Getting high with Art and Patrick near midnight and you’re outside on the grass on a blanket of yours and you’re in one of Patrick’s t-shirts because you don’t want yours to smell like marijuana. The shirt is a saving grace when you stand but when you sit and your thighs are on display the way they are, both boys are finding themselves a bit stuck on where else to look. Patrick having an especially hard time as you’ve draped your legs across his, the back of your upper thigh the part resting against his dick. He’s too aware of it as you shift just slightly, pressing more against him and he has to not make any noise.
You look at Patrick and ask him gently what’s wrong? He’s all flushed. You ask if it’s from the weed and if he needs water or a snack or something but he could truly not be high enough. He’s staring at your lips, how full they are, how sweet they’d be to kiss and how fulfilling it would be to kiss down your chest, your stomach, between your legs. Art can sense the tension from across the blanket so he suggests something stupid, a plan to fix things up a bit. He proposes truth or dare.
You laugh because you haven’t played it in years but you agree and so does Patrick and Art opens it up with Patrick. Patrick goes for truth and Art asks him something simple. “How many times do you jerk off in a day?”
You giggled and Patrick groaned just a little. His answer was three. Usually. You weren’t surprised and you nudged him just a little bit, teasing him for his answer. Patrick then asks you and you say dare. He then dares you to finish the rest of the bowl Art had packed. You do so.
It goes around again twice until it’s Art asking you. Truth or dare?
You pick dare and this time Art plays true wingman. Or tries to. He’s so sure of himself. “I dare you… to kiss one of us.” He says. He’s SO sure you’ll take this chance to kiss Patrick, who you’re draped across and leaning against. But you don’t, you move over him and crawl to where Art is, kissing him gently. Art is more than surprised but Patrick is just staring at you, going over that decision of yours. You chose to kiss Art instead of him… it should have hurt. But it didn’t. Instead it just existed alongside every other fantasy he’d had of you. And you ask Patrick now, pulling away from Art who is wide-eyed and frankly impressed by how well you kiss, truth or dare?
Patrick says dare and he is met with, “I dare you…To kiss me.” It’s an order and it’s a dare and you’re giggling like it’s the funniest thing in the world but it’s all he’s been able to think about since he met you and you were asking…
Art is grinning. It’s the outcome he’s been waiting for. And you’re waiting. “No.” He says. “Sorry, I’m not- I won’t-“ he says. Or he tries to say he can’t kiss you here, not JUST because of a dare. He wants to kiss you when HE wants to. Your eyes are wide and you sit cross legged, looking a bit paler than you should.
“I’m sorry,” you say, immediately straightening out. Your hand goes up to cover your mouth but it doesn’t get all the way up. All of your teasing, all of the fun you’d been having with him, and you finally tried to close a gap to be met with refusal. “I’m sorry, Partrick. That was too much.”
Patrick looks at you and your big genuine eyes and he wishes he didn’t stop himself but some stupid part of him, although he wanted you on top of him nearly every night, although the image of you in your pajama shorts were burned into your mind as a permanent form of motivation for masturbation, even though he thought day in and day out about pleasing you, he wouldn’t kiss you. Not for fun. Not without intention. Because at the base of all of this he did like you. A lot. He couldn’t find the words…
His lack of response is what provokes your further mortification. And suddenly you’re doubting everything you knew. Did he like you? Why wouldn’t he? You thought for sure he would. “I’m so sorry, I’m going to go,” you say.
Art shakes his head, “It’s fine, you can stay.” He says in Patrick’s silence. But you’d kissed Art now and not Patrick and one would have been meaningless and the other meaningful but it was all a stupid game anyway and you had just made a major mistake. An even bigger mistake than you knew it was.
“I have class tomorrow anyway,” you say kindly, pulling your shorts down just a bit further for more coverage. “I’m really sorry. Both of you. I’ll talk to you guys soon.” The embarrassment is crushing and Patrick isn’t saying anything and now you’re stuck with some stupid consequences on your back. This was what you got for being a supposed tease, you thought as you grabbed your things. You should have been more clear on how Patrick felt before you asked him to do something like that. He didn’t want to kiss you. You misread him?
“No, really, don’t go,” Art says. “Please.” And he makes eye contact with you in a way that sends a message, which gestures you to Patrick.
Patrick looks at you. “Come here.”
You move back toward him. The game is over. This is him, this is not his dare. And he kisses you before you can wonder what it is he wants. It’s a good kiss. It’s long and it’s more tender than you’d have imagined from him. And when it ends and you both pull away, Art is nowhere to be found.
Your eyes meet his, his eyes meet yours and it’s only a matter of minutes before you’re pressed against the door of your dorm room trying to unlock it while Patrick’s mouth trails over your jaw and neck with so much haste you’d think he was on a timer. You manage to open the door and you’re stumbling in loudly, kissing and slamming the door behind you. Nothing mattered aside from him in this moment as your shorts made their way off of your body. Patrick didn’t even try to remove your shirt as he took off his own clothes. You could feel him hard against you as he pressed your body to his.
You’re giggling between kisses, slightly high, like something is funny. His hands on your jaw as you walk backward toward your own bed. You wanted to tease him for months on end, you wanted to give him something to want so he was going to show you just how fucking badly he wanted it. In seconds your hand finds purpose as it slips down his shorts and finds his dick. It’s all he’s wanted (aside from taking you out to a really nice meal) and he groans loudly as your hand grips him. “Fuck, I want you so badly,” he says against your lips and you just grin, stroking him up and down and in two seconds his shorts and boxers are down and you’re on your knees next to your bed and as your hands work his shaft, your lips gently kiss his tip and he wants so much to push your head down but he swears he isn’t that kind of guy.
You’re so gorgeous, your lips wrapped around his dick but he can’t sit and watch it happen, he needs you now and you know it as he taps under your chin and you eagerly stand to kiss him again, his leaking cock pressed against the space between the end of your third and your bare thigh. Patrick can barely take it, there’s been so much he’s thought about and you’re kissing him like you need it and the second the words, “fuck me,” fall from your lips he’s on the task. He almost ripped your underwear off you, the lust of it all gets the best of him and he’s on the bed, long arms ridding you of your underwear and his hand dipping between your thighs. You’re so wet, it’s all for him, he’s always wondered how affected you were by him. In seconds he’s positioned and in one thrust he’s inside you.
It’s almost violent how rough he is. He’s already lifted your leg over his shoulder and he’s fucking into you harder than he even knew he could and you’re moaning in his ear and it’s all he’s wanted for far too fucking long. “God- you feel so good.” He groans, hand gripping the flesh of your thigh as it rests against his shoulder. Your hand is tangled in his curls, pulling ever so slightly. This was for every time you bent over in a short skirt, this was for every time you sat on his lap, this was for every time you gave him that sly smirk. And you could feel all of it, all of him as he pounded into you mercilessly. “Fuck…”
You’re moaning his name just how he imagined it and it feels almost pornographic the way he’s getting exactly what he wants. But your nails are digging into the skin of his back and you’re enjoying it too, so he’s happy you’re happy and it’s all perfect. “Harder,” you plead and you’re breathing hard, moaning his name louder as he does exactly what you say. He hates feeling his orgasm approaching he doesn’t want to waste this perfect situation. “Fuck, I’m so close, I’m so close-“ he manages. You kiss him and it’s harsh and a little sloppy but it’s the fact he’s rapidly and roughly thrusting into you that makes it a bit difficult. Patrick leans away from just for a moment to see you better and, “God, you’re so beautiful,” slips out of his mouth and you’re kissing him again. “I’m so close-“
“Uh huh?” You smirk and it’s gorgeous and it’s evil.
“Oh, fuck, I’m-,” he couldn’t get the full sentence out, skin against skin harder than before, harder than anything and you’re moaning as he finishes into you just as hard. Your hands slide over his skin and back into his hair and he kisses you as his orgasm is dying down into just heavy breathing and a slight sheen of sweat. You’re smiling like something is funny and without the thrusting Patrick takes the chance to kiss you again, you giggling between every breath and cupping his face sweetly like he didn’t just fuck you into the mattress.
“Say you’ll-“ he’s interrupted by a kiss. “Go out with me.” Patrick says, cat out of the bag whoops he fucked you turns out he really fucking likes you. “Go out with me.”
“When?” You ask. He’s not expecting that answer. He grins and kisses you again, hard, passionately. And you’re giggling again and you’re adorable and he hasn’t even pulled out yet.
“Tomorrow,” he answers. Still breathing hard.
“Perfect.” You grin so widely. You’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and he’s finally letting himself feel the wholesome side to wanting you. He cleans you up, which he’s never done for anyone, but cleaning ends up with his head between your thighs just to finish the job and another tied end is Patrick no longer has to wonder how you taste.
He doesn’t tell Art about any of it.
And he picks you up the next day and you’re gorgeous and your skirt is mid-thigh and as fun as it was, Patrick likes being able to talk to you without having to worry too much about staring at anything the wrong way. It was fun to tease but it’s more fun when the date is over and you’re feeling euphoric over the way he looks at you and his smile and how his hands slide around your waist before he pulls you into a kiss. There’s no reason to tease anymore. He’s right where you want him. And Patrick has no need to want anymore, he has too, in all the ways he could possibly need. He kisses you and it feels right. Sweet.
Sure, a few hours later he’s back in your bed but it’s only after the longest conversation of your life. Apparently, Patrick has kissed Art too and it’s something you laugh about for far too long. Without anything to want he’s no longer able to distract himself from just how perfect you are. He kisses your forehead when he says goodnight and all is well. Ask anyone though, Patrick is absolutely insane about his girlfriend.
#challengers#patrick zweig#art donaldson#challengers x reader#challengers fic#tinytennisskirt#patrick zweig challengers#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig fluff#patrick zweig smut
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Would they be a Girl Dad/Mom or Boy Dad/Mom
A/N: just know that this isn’t the weird incest-y thing that people have going on (the boy moms saying that no girl would ever compare to them when talking about their sons dating stuff) this is just what vibes they give off!! The is completely ignoring the how many kids they would have thing!!
Tw:cursing? Mentions of a afab partner in bachelors and amab partner in bachelorettes. Some angsty stuff but nothing too bad except for the authors note which mentions incest.
Wc:at least 5 for each!
Stardew Valley Masterlist
Sebastian
Girl dad
He just gives off girl dad energy
Like a daughter would soothe his soul if that makes sense.
Especially because I feel like he would have a daughter that’s exactly like her mother.
He would become softer, and would probably be carrying her everywhere.
Would be the parent that shows up to the school like “WHO TF HAS A PROBLEM WITH MY DAUGHTER?”
Absolutely doesn’t allow her on his motorcycle at all.
Maybe when she’s a little older he’ll get mods to a new motorcycle so she could ride with him but as a baby absolutely not.
She is a daddy’s girl through and through and it makes him happy because he never had a relationship like this with his biological dad nor with Demetrius.
Sam
Girl dad
You will see him teaching his daughter how to skate EVERY DAY
Like dude is a skater boy that’s also a musician.
He definitely has a daughter with her skirt on and some knee pads a helmet and some flannel or something.
And he’s like “okay try again! You’ll get that kick flip eventually.”
And you’re just like “SHES GONNA GET H U R T!!!!”
And he’s like “yeah but she’ll be fine :)”
It’s VERY stressful because he’s a little rough with playing sometimes because he gets too excited but it’s good to have a partner that will push your child like that.
He’s a very good fun dad
Vincent enjoys being an uncle.
Shane
Girl dad
Have you seen how he is with Jas?
Dude is a girl dad all the way!
Would teach his daughter how to take care of the chickens, and would try to teach them proper ways of dealing with their emotions because he doesn’t want her to end up like him.
I could imagine he’s one of those dads where his daughter posts something on a social media platform and gets the “this is no father behavior” or whatever people be saying
And she just makes another video with him standing there and is like ??????? I’m actually close to my dad thanks <3
Like his daughter would be strong but a good person because he would work hard to make sure she’s a person he wishes he could be. But not in a toxic way
More in a you could be and are better than me.
Alex
Definitely a boy dad
I think he gives off the vibes of a dad you see at the park
And you can immediately tell that his child is a boy and when anyone asks him he points to a little boy that looks exactly like him.
They have football days
And it just very much him fixing what he didn’t have with his dad, and giving his son as much love and care as he can.
It’s as if he is getting a do over, but in the form of having a child instead of him going back to being a child.
I can see him and his son in the kitchen with a mess everywhere trying to make you breakfast
He takes him to sports games and goes to all of his kids events at school.
They’re both EXTREMELY loud when doing anything together. It’s just shouts of excitement and joy.
Harvey
Boy dad
I don’t know he gives off that he specifically has a 3 year old son that clings to both of you on any given day.
Like a son with big eyes that can melt anyone’s heart and his hair is always neat.
Son may be a bit of a crybaby ngl but in a cute way. Because both of you allow him to express his feelings in any way he wants to as long as it’s healthy.
Like y’all’s son would be an incredibly sweet boy and so loving and caring towards other people and things.
Harvey has a picture of you and your son as his lock screen on his phone and the clinic computer. And he has a little picture (more like a million) of you three in his wallet.
Elliott
Girl dad
She takes mom’s looks but has his hair.
And also his bone structure.
Gives off Nepo baby vibes and has a big vocabulary bc Elliott would speak to her as if she’s an adult since the day she’s born.
Like yeah he still speaks softly and everything
But he uses adult words bc his kid is going to be smart.
Would be so sweet and would absolutely call her his princess.
Elliott is for sure in charge of bedtime stories and has probably already or has made plans to release a children’s book just for her
She gives him inspiration and a new meaning to his life.
Penny
Boy mom
She just seems like the type of woman to have a son
I imagine him literally either as a newborn with her never putting him down or like a 4 year old playing at the park.
I think he would be similar to her in personality but more like dad in looks.
He’s attached to her and they spend hours reading together because they’re both very into stories.
I think out of all the kids he would be the sweetest.
He’s very soft spoken like she is and she loves that he is (don’t get me wrong if he was loud she would still love him just as much) but she’s seeing all of the traits that she was more insecure about in him and figuring out that maybe it’s nothing to be ashamed of because those traits are lovely in him.
Leah
Boy mom
Like I mentioned in the other post I think she would have one child
And I think this little boy would be so creative it’s crazy
But is also super hyper so all of his art is chaotic but very cool
She probably started doing art with him the second he was born.
She makes a bunch of finger,hand,toe, and footprint art because he’s going to grow quickly and she wants to have something that she can look back on when he’s grown.
He’s encouraged to be messy and I think because of it he learns to clean up his mess quickly
They’re a very smilely duo and she makes sure to encourage him in whatever he wants to do no matter how absurd because no one encouraged her to follow her art dreams and she never wants him to feel like that
But also teaches the importance of accepting failure and continuing to try to achieve his goals.
Emily
Boy mom
Very strange like her but in a good way like her
She lets him express himself in all kinds of ways so he’s very…idk how to explain it
Sometimes off putting to people?
Sort of autism coded ngl
Like has no ability to read the room and very much says what’s on his mind no matter what’s happening
But it’s kinda impossible to get mad at him because he does it in a very nice way?
Probably has his hair dyed some random color that he wanted and everyone gets mad at Emily for it because “HeS a KiD hE cAnT dO tHaT!!!!!!!1!!!”
They’re also super close. But I don’t honestly think any of these bachelor/ettes would have kids just to hate them.
But they have the kind of bond that people usually have with their friends like where you can halfway read their mind and you don’t really have to say full sentences or anything they just get it.
Haley
Girl mom
OOOOOOOOF her daughter is the spitting image of her
Like her daughter knows EXACTLY what she’s going to look like.
Would probably dress her daughter up in expensive clothes and stuff and they’ll have mommy daughter dates where they get their nails done and go to a hair salon and go shopping and have their little drinks.
Her daughter would probably have a popular girl name because Haley would wanna set her up for success.
BUT unlike what people might think I think that Haley would be very…relaxed with her daughter if that makes sense
No almond mom shit
No making her feel bad
No being distant and distracted
Haley sometimes feels abandoned by her parents and I have a headcanon where even though she loves them and they love her they kinda made her feel shitty about certain things
Like her and her mother would get into arguments and her mother would say “I hope you have a daughter just like you so you can see how hard it is to deal with you!”
And after Haley has her daughter she sees that it isn’t really hard to love herself at all. Her daughter is just like her and it’s the easiest thing in the world to love her.
Abigail
Girl mom
I think Abigail would struggle with this at first because y’know I think out of all the bachelorettes she her up with the stereotypical roles in her household and even when she tried to go against it her parents wouldn’t let her
So when she has a girl she panics because what is she supposed to do? And she worries that she’ll be like her parents even though she does love and cherish them.
But as her daughter grows older she’ll relax more especially if her daughter is into video games and adventuring.
I think she would probably take her kid on hikes and stuff. Like she doesn’t really care for exercise but it’s kinda like adventuring going hiking.
So her daughter would grow up with a love for adventure and the outdoors but also with the knowledge that she could be into whatever and her mother will not judge and will always love her
Maru
Boy mom
I don’t know why but I can see her with a Spencer Reid son if that makes sense
A super nerd that’s super cute and lovable and also info dumps and inappropriate times
I think he would be space nerd instead of robot nerd and also maybe a bit of a bug/dinosaur nerd
And she’s like !!!!!! That’s so cool!!!!!!
They just talk for hours and hours infodumping at each other and everyone is like ??? What kind of conversation is that you’re both just taking turns talking for an hour straight???
BUT a difference is that she understands Demetrius’ position but also kinda is annoyed at him for his behavior
Like she would NEVER dream of holding her child back socially because she thinks his academic progress is more important
It kinda made her shit at socializing and she’s kinda grateful to have a partner and son that understand her
She wants him to be well rounded instead of just smart.
#stardew valley#sdv#stardew#sdv headcanons#stardew headcanon#stardew valley headcanons#sdv shitpost#stardew shitpost#stardew valley shitpost#sdv sebastian#stardew Sebastian#stardew valley Sebastian#sdv Sam#stardew Sam#stardew valley Sam#stardew Harvey#stardew valley Harvey#sdv Harvey#sdv Haley#stardew Haley#stardew valley Haley#stardew Abigail#sdv Abigail#sdv Leah#stardew Leah#sdv Alex#sdv Emily#sdv penny#sdv Shane#sdv Elliott
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the hardest part [ZCL] (M)
Description: You, Chenle, and Jay have been best friends since before you could even remember. After moving away to pursue your dreams, you don't talk to them as often as you should. One day, you get a call notifying you of Jay's passing. When you go back to your hometown, you find everything is different except for one person--Chenle.
Genre: (Hurt/Comfort) Smut/Fluff/Angst (please see content warnings)
Content Warnings: death of a close friend, survivor's guilt, lots of what-if scenarios, navigating life without someone you've always had around, mental break downs, panic attacks (not vividly described AS panic attacks), two people coming together to heal from grief, explicit sexual content (unprotected sex, oral sex, mentions of sex, etc. although it's not super crazy so do with that what you will)
Word Count: 16,965
Taglist: @amyjipark @sofix-hc7 @dinosaurtoothbrushwithninjasauce
Permanent Taglist: @sunnybutcloudy @neozon3nha @waffleuvs
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!reader (featuring OC by the name of Jay)
A/N: thank you for 900 followers! :)
Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)
When you got the call, your life fell apart before your eyes. You didn’t believe it. Not at first, anyway, considering things like this don’t happen to people you know. They happen to people you’ve never met.
Tragedies strike everyone. Not only are you not exempt, but nothing will ever shake you more, you’re certain.
Learning of your childhood best friend’s death is not something you expect to hear at your age. It’s always sudden, tragically, unfortunately. As if any death is anything but those words.
Everything leading up to the funeral—from the phone call to the week it took you to get on the plane—felt like a fever dream. One you’d wake up from and everything would be normal again.
You’re too young. He’s too young.
Was.
He was too young.
Your throat tightens as you close your eyes, resting your head against the steering wheel of your rental car. The funeral awaits you inside, where you’ll say the goodbye he’ll never actually hear.
The entire week, you’d been looking through old pictures and videos, crying at the sound of his voice when you realized how long it’d been since you truly heard him.
You obviously had yet to accept what happened. You’re half-sure that the second you walk in, everyone will be in there as if they’ve all played an elaborate prank on you. How cruel of them to set all of that up in a funeral home. Was he in there right now, waiting for you to walk in with tears in your eyes so he could make fun of you?
You’d cry harder, punch his shoulder, yell at him for playing such a cruel joke on you.
But it’s not a joke.
You haven’t received a text in over a month—well past your monthly check-in time. That thought alone makes you want to scream. Monthly check-ins? You moved away from your friends years ago for college and a ghost of a dream. Now, the only ghost left is his, and you have no idea how to explain your absence.
You thought you had more time.
Maybe that everybody gets older—but that’s not true. He won’t.
A cold chill runs down your spine. You look up at the sky, wanting to curse it for the beautiful blue color when the shade inside your heart is so fucking painful. Gathering yourself and wiping away the stray tear, you brush your dress off and get out of your car. The lot is packed, considering how popular Jay is.
Was.
It’s not real for you yet. Even as you walk in through the doors, the miserable click of your heels on the concrete doing little to soothe the emotions running deep in your veins. The first thing you see when you walk in is a collage of pictures of him—and the one that catches your eye immediately is one of the biggest ones, portraying you, Jay, and Chenle from a few summers back. The three of you are beaming at each other, smiles too wide to not be painful.
A lump forms in your throat. You hadn’t even thought about Chenle. Not really. The three of you had been best friends growing up. Your parents all knew each other, and so you’d been grandfathered into two friendships. In your defense, nothing had been on your mind except for Jay. Not his family, not yours, not Chenle.
Jaw quivering, you trace your fingers over the two men in the picture. God, Chenle must be a fucking wreck right now. Your first goal was to find him.
It’s not like you weren’t friends with them anymore. You were busy, they were busy, and you had a friendship with both of them that made it easy to remain the same when together even if you spent months and months apart. You hadn’t seen either of them in person in over a year.
The doors are open, and you clench your fists together. You freeze just before the doorway. The second you walk in, all of this becomes real. Jay is dead, and you’ve failed to keep up with him and everyone else from your hometown. You’ve become someone else, and in the process, you forgot your roots.
You’ll never remember them again. Not when they’ve been cut at the source.
“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice sounds behind you, and you whirl around.
The tears you’d been holding back fall before you can stop them. You slap a hand over your mouth, and in the blink of an eye, Chenle’s closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping his arms around you.
“God, it’s been so fucking long,” he murmurs, tightening his grip.
You can’t talk yet. Guilt sets in regardless, because you hadn’t so much as messaged him when you heard about all of this. His palm rests on the back of your head, and he doesn’t say anything else. The two of you stand there, and you allow him to comfort you.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” you groan and wipe at your eyes. “This is all just…are you…how are you doing?”
“I’ve been better,” he admits. “Better now that you’re here, honestly. I went outside to take a break from everything and I saw you walk in. You have no idea how good it is to have you back here.”
“I can’t believe I’ve been gone for so long.” You glance up at the ceiling.
“Life happens,” Chenle says softly. He puts his hand on the small of your back. “If you’re ready, I’ll go in with you.”
“Thank you.” You take a deep breath.
Chenle has never been an emotional man. Even since you were children, you rarely even saw him tear up. Hopes of all of this being a prank dissipates quickly when you see the water gathered in his eyes as the two of you walk in.
The air inside is undeniably stuffy, bone-chilling, even. Silence is amplified by how you hear your own heart pounding in your ears. The carpeted floor creaks beneath your feet, and as soon as people recognize you, eyes are on you and Chenle. Nobody says anything.
The casket is on a stage of sorts. The left side is open, and you can’t see inside it from where you’re standing, but your feet freeze to the ground directly below you before you realize what’s happening. A flash of worry crosses over Chenle’s features as he steps in front of you to cover the view.
“Just breathe,” he whispers, hands on your shoulders. “It’s hard. I know. Trust me, do I fucking know, but it’s not about us and our feelings right now. It’s about Jay. You’ll get through this for Jay.”
“He’s in there.” You gulp. “It’s all real, and he’s…”
Your friend nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s real.”
Your throat constricts again, and you glance around. His family—his parents and younger brother—are in the front of the room, sitting down together. Much to your surprise, they’re not all sobbing, but the redness to his mother’s cheeks tells you she may have just shed too many tears to keep going.
“This is the last time you’ll ever see him,” Chenle says quietly. “You don’t have to go up there if you don’t want to, but I think you’ll regret it if you don’t. They put him in that stupid band shirt he never wanted to throw away.”
Your heart pangs, and warmth and fondness takes over. “Well, good thing he never did, huh?”
“Exactly.” Chenle chuckles. “I’ll go with you.”
Once you nod, he resumes his spot next to you and guides you up to your best friend to say goodbye. You don’t stay there long. After you see him, you’re sure you’ve been changed forever. It’s odd how serene and peaceful he looks. How nothing about him has really changed when everything about you and your life now has.
You speak briefly with his family, who are all thankful you came across the country for this—as if you’d ever miss it. You just wish you’d had that need to go home when death wasn’t involved. Yours, Jay’s, and Chenle’s parents stay at the funeral after you and Chenle leave. The two of you mutually agreed Jay would punch you both if he knew you were held up because of him.
You go to a cafe together, and despite you having zero appetite, Chenle insists you get something to eat. Grasping your warm coffee cup in both hands, you stare down at the steam while your friend is up at the counter waiting for everything else. You look out the window, watching the cars zoom past.
“It’s a little weird having you back here,” Chenle mentions as he sits down across from you.
“Well.” You sip your coffee. “It wasn’t exactly in the plan.”
“How long are you here for?”
“I took extended leave,” you tell him. “I’ll be here for a few months.”
He purses his lips and nods. “This town isn’t so great without you, you know. Jay and I used to talk about it all the time.”
“Yeah.” Your breath hitches and you stare at the steam from your cup. “I’ve been so…far away this whole time, and now it’s too late to fix it all.”
“Hey, there’s nothing to fix,” he interjects, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re out there making a life for yourself. We’ve never been anything but fucking proud of you, dude. You had the courage to get out. Neither of us ever could’ve attempted that.”
“Did he even get the chance?” You let out a pained laugh and set your coffee on the table.
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. He loved you, okay? Our friendship has always been easy. You don’t need to talk to people or see them every day to stay friends.” Chenle reaches across the table and grabs your hand.
Your shoulders slump. “God, you’re going through this at the same time I am and I’m just…making it about me. What’s going on with you?”
“Everyone grieves differently.” He pauses to think. “I’m…as okay as I can be, you know? But to be completely honest, I’m not sure how I am. Or what I’m gonna do. There’s not much I can do.”
“I still can’t believe it. He’s just…gone. How the hell do we keep going? It’ll never be the same.”
“You’re right,” Chenle agrees. “It’ll suck. It already does. But we’ll get through this together. I’m here for you.”
You squeeze his hand and give him a small smile. “And I’m here for you, of course. I’m gonna be better about staying in touch and visiting.”
“Where are you staying?” he asks.
“Well, my parents turned my room into a home gym, so I got a hotel for now.” You chuckle. “They really thought I was never coming back.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” His eyes widen. “You’re gonna stay in a hotel for a few months? Just come stay with me.”
“I didn’t want to impose on anyone.”
He presses his lips into a thin line. “C’mon, you’re not imposing and you know it. Plus, you haven’t seen the new house yet, so you may as well.”
“That’s right.” You gasp and shoot straight up. “You fucking bought a house.”
He grins. “Yeah, I did. And there’s plenty of space for you there. Plus, it’ll be better for both of us if we’re not alone right now.”
“You’re gonna make me play board games.”
“Obviously.” He scrunches up his nose. “You would have to even if you were staying in the hotel.”
Familiarity finally sets in, and the awkward air between you and Chenle has officially evaporated completely. He’s still your best friend, and the weirdness was in your own head. The two of you spend a bit of time catching up at the cafe—at times, you even find yourself laughing.
You missed your hometown. The friends you had when you were growing up. What a shame you’re missing one of the most pivotal people in your entire life. Your younger years were shaped and reformed by your friendship with Jay and Chenle.
When some girl bullied you in middle school, the boys were the first people to come to your defense. They’d walk you to and from class, and Chenle even called that girl out. In high school, when you got your first boyfriend, Jay and Chenle grilled him thoroughly. They were your family, and you were theirs.
One of the only times you’d seen Chenle cry was when he and Jay dropped you off at the airport when you were leaving for college. You hugged both of them so tightly, and you promised to visit often. They said they’d come see you, and that you’d never go too long without them.
Naive promises turn into friendships where you love each other, but you rarely see or hear from the other. Every time you did see them, it truly felt like no time had passed.
You and Chenle get into your car, and he directs you to his house. He tells you a little about it on the way—it’s not too big, two bedrooms, one bathroom, but the kitchen is really nice. He likes to cook, so, of course, that was a deciding factor when he was looking.
Your bags are still in the back, so he helps you grab them. He slings your backpack over his shoulder and grabs the larger of your two bags. Everything about your hometown feels foreign to you as you follow him inside. He flicks the lights on, and the first thing you notice is that same picture of you, Jay, and Chenle that you’d seen at the funeral home.
It’s framed in the center of the wall, and as soon as you see it, you exhale. Chenle stops mid-sentence, walking up to stand next to you.
“That’s my favorite picture of us.” He tilts his head. “He made fun of me for putting that up.”
“He’s always been so weird about mushy gushy friendship feelings.” You purse your lips. “Despite being the sappiest fucking guy I know.”
“He’d be so pissed at all of us for being sad.” Chenle chuckles. “He’d kill me if I let you stay in a hotel, too.”
“The last time I talked to him, he’d just broken up with that girl. What was her name?”
“I don’t even remember. She was weird, though. Like, he barely talked to you and she was all threatened I guess. You and Jay? You two would end up putting each other in headlocks.” He snorts and runs his fingers through his hair.
“We have put each other in headlocks,” you remind him, nudging his shoulder. “And I vaguely remember kicking his ass.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I’d consider that kicking his ass.”
“This…This feeling will go away eventually, right?” For some reason, you can’t lift your voice higher than a whisper as you force the words out.
“Which one? The gaping hole or the soul-crushing anxiety?” He throws his arm over your shoulders.
“Both.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think so.” He sighs. “I’ve heard from many that you kinda just…learn how to live with it.”
“Even though he can’t.”
“Even though he can’t,” Chenle repeats. “Guess the hardest part of all of this is that he won’t grow up with us, huh?”
You inhale sharply and cover your mouth. “Damn it.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I’ve been a damn roller coaster this whole week. You don’t have to be scared to feel around me. You know that.”
“It feels so fucking selfish,” you breathe out. “I haven’t seen him in…months, so do I even really have the right to be this sad?”
“Are you kidding me?” Chenle scoffs.
“Would he even want me here right now?”
“Do you hear yourself?” Your friend gapes at you. “He never stopped talking about the next time you’d be in town. Neither of us have ever even had a negative thought about you, dude. You should know that. There was never a time where he didn’t want you here.”
“I guess I just thought we’d have more time,” you say.
“The world waits for no one.”
When nightfall comes, you and Chenle go to your separate rooms. He bids you goodnight, and you close your door. You sit on the edge of the bed and take in the room around you. Everything has changed immensely since the last time you were in your hometown. Your best friend bought a house, and you’d barely even thought or heard about it. Pride in him surges through you, but for a moment, you think it may be misplaced.
You don’t deserve to be proud of someone you’ve failed to talk to as often as you should have. Losing Jay has torn your world apart, and you still don’t truly believe it. You change into your tank top and shorts, and then grab your toothbrush and toothpaste from your bag.
You’re on your way to the bathroom when you find Chenle in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and bringing a glass of water up to his lips. He gives you a tired nod.
“You’re still up?”
“Sleep on a day like this?” He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “I’ll probably have some crazy ass dream or something.”
You forget your adventure to his bathroom and approach the kitchen island. Without a word between the two of you, he goes into the cupboard to get you a cup as well. He fills it with water and slides it across the countertop.
“Thanks,” you say.
He nods once and crosses his arms over his chest. “How’s life going, though? Current events aside.”
“Life is a constant revolving door of work,” you tell him. “Working my way up the corporate ladder and all that bullshit they spew.”
“You look good. As long as you’re getting all the things you wanted, I’m good, too.” He closes his eyes and tilts his head back.
“Kind of debating if it was worth it at this point.” You sigh. “I’m proud of you, by the way. Buying a house on your own is a big deal.”
“Family business money.”
“You work. You earned it.”
“I guess that’s true. Thanks.” He pauses. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think I’d be okay if you weren’t.”
“Like I’d ever leave you to deal with something like this alone.” You tap your fingers against the granite, admiring the swirls of color deep in the design.
“Regardless, I needed you.” Chenle gulps, glancing at his feet. “I still do. Now more than ever with Jay gone.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t come?” you ask.
He wets his lips and takes the bottom one between his teeth. “It’s not that I thought that, necessarily, but I did wonder if you were. I didn’t hear from you, so I kind of just hoped.”
Guilt takes another stab at your heart. “Chenle, I—”
“Don’t apologize again,” he replies sternly. “Life is life. There’s no way any of us could’ve predicted this, okay? Sometimes, shit happens. Not being around a lot isn’t the end of the world.”
“It was for Jay.”
“You were not the end of the world. You didn’t kill him, for fuck’s sake. There’s nothing any of us could’ve done. And reminiscing on it like this and placing unplaceable blame on ourselves is going to make things harder.” He sets his cup in the sink.
“I know. I know that, but for some reason, my head keeps—”
“Let’s watch a movie,” he offers. “Maybe it’ll distract you a little bit.”
You agree, and go into the bathroom to brush your teeth before you follow him into his room. It’s so innately Chenle in there, you immediately feel relaxed. Some things never change, and you’re glad he’s one of those things.
“Sorry, I don’t have a TV in the living room,” he says as he pulls his covers back.
“Just roll me off if I fall asleep,” you reply, climbing onto the untouched side.
Eventually, he’s next to you, and you rest your head on his chest while he finds something to watch. He selects some random comedy movie and then shuffles to put his arm around you.
His scent is familiar, too. The world calms around you when you’re with Chenle. One out of two of your safe places has left the Earth, but luckily for you, Chenle is more than ready to play both roles.
The movie does, indeed, successfully distract you from the impending doom of everything outside. You’re able to forget, even if it’s just for a couple hours, and sink into the familiarity of your best friend.
His chest rumbles when he laughs at the screen, and the feeling has you drifting faster than you’d care to admit.
Until finally, your eyes flutter shut and stay that way, and just like that, you have the best night of sleep you’ve had all week.
You wake in the morning to sunlight on your face and Chenle wiggling away from you. The brightness burns your eyes, and you curse under your breath. Chenle bites back a laugh.
“Did I wake you up?” he asks. “I was about to go make some coffee for us.”
You shake your head and turn onto your back. “No, the sun violated me. Sorry for falling asleep in here. I thought I’d be able to catch myself.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He waves you off. “You still like your coffee the same way?”
You nod. “Thanks, Lele.”
“Of course.” He pats the door frame and heads to the kitchen. The creaks in the floorboards from his steps get further and further, and you cover your face with your hands to block out the sun.
You smell the coffee as it brews, a sigh escaping your lips. His bed is the most comfortable thing you’ve slept on in a while, and you can’t seem to force yourself to get up. You and Chenle had spent the night together many times before, pretty much throughout your entire lives. Jay, too, of course, considering how inseparable the three of you had been growing up.
“Alright, lazy ass,” Chenle calls out. “Coffee’s ready. Time to face the world.”
“Asshole,” you shout back.
“That’s what they call me.”
You laugh and roll your eyes. Swinging the covers off of you, you follow him into the kitchen.
“The fuck is your mattress made of?” you ask as you take the cup he hands you. “Clouds?”
“It’s pretty nice, isn’t it?” He sips his coffee and cringes from the heat.
“The steam is like, a dead giveaway that it’s too hot to drink, you know.”
“I take back what I said, go back to sleep.” He grins. “Getting a decent night’s sleep has brought your sass back.”
“You know you love my sass,” you bite back.
He holds his hand up in mock surrender. “Whatever.”
“What’s the plan for today?” you ask, holding your cup close so it warms you up.
“No clue,” he says. “My parents gave me a few weeks off to, I don’t know, adjust or whatever. Even though I could probably use the distraction.”
“Comedy movie didn’t do it for you?”
He gives you a pointed look. “A two hour movie can only do so much.”
“We should do something for him,” you suggest, tilting your head as you try to think. “Like, to honor him.”
“What could we do?”
“Sky’s the limit.” You shrug. “I feel like I should.”
“If you do, it needs to be actually for him. Not to compensate for guilt. Guilt you shouldn’t even be feeling, by the way.” His eyes on you suddenly becomes too much. You avert your gaze. He’s always been able to read you like a book.
“It’s really weird,” you say. “Right now, I don’t feel…anything. But I really thought I’d be in a constant state of sad. That makes me feel guilty, too.”
“I get that. It’s the way things work, though. At the end of the day, we’re still alive. We shouldn’t stop just because he did.” Chenle looks past you to the picture on the wall.
You follow suit, letting the events from yesterday flood back to you.
“Lele.” You wait for him to look at you. “Thank you. For everything. And for not letting me blame myself. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’d be alone and sad and, quite honestly, wondering where I—”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” You glare at him.
He smiles. “You get it.”
You and Chenle spend some time with your parents. They’re quick to update you on everything everyone in the town has been doing, and you and Chenle exchange ‘when-will-this-be-over’ glances frequently.
Chenle offers to help your dad cook, leaving you and your mother in the living room. She brings out an old photo album, and the two of you take a trip down memory lane. After flipping through a few pages, she gasps and points at a picture of you and Chenle next to each other at a bonfire. You’re holding the graham crackers, awaiting the marshmallow he’s toasting over the flames.
“You guys were so young.” She lets out a long sigh.
“Mom, that was like, six years ago.” You laugh. “We weren’t that young.”
She trails down the page, and the next one is almost the same, but Jay’s arms are around you and Chenle, and he beams straight into the camera. You smile at the sight, remembering how you swatted at his wrist the second after the photo was taken.
“You know, we all thought you and Jay would get married one day,” she says absent-mindedly.
“What?” you ask incredulously. “Seriously? Come on, you know we were never like that.”
“You kids don’t see it from the outside. I’ve never seen you act so comfortable with anyone. Chenle, too, obviously. I can’t explain it. It was different with you and Jay.”
“I promise you, he’s only ever been my best friend. Not even a smidge of another thought. Don’t speak ill of the dead like that—”
“(Y/N),” your mother scolds you, smacking your arm.
“No need to beat around the bush.” You shrug and close the album.
“Hey, do you—” Chenle’s cut off by your mother.
“If you actually visited as much as you said you would, maybe things would’ve happened for the two of you.”
She doesn’t mean it the way you take it, at least you don’t think she does, but it’s a stray bullet to the heart anyway. Your jaw drops, and it only takes one glance from Chenle for him to understand. He reaches into his pocket and hands you his keys.
“Go get in the car.”
“Chenle, it’s not—”
“Go. I’ll be out in a second.”
Your insides twist and turn, and despite the way your throat closes in on itself, you nod and practically bolt out of the house. The first tear drops as you climb into the passenger seat. You close your eyes and drop your head into your hands. How did life turn out this way?
It’s true that you and Jay had never had any sort of feelings for each other, but the insinuation that he should’ve been more confuses you more than anything. If he should’ve been, you lost that chance before you even knew it existed. But it doesn’t matter, does it?
You never had feelings for him. Never. But for some reason, it suddenly feels like you have to.
Now, a different type of guilt sinks in.
You’re shaking by the time Chenle gets in the car, but he doesn’t say anything before he drives away. Stress boils off of him, and you’re almost scared to glance over at him. Luckily, the ride to his house is short thanks to your small hometown, and as soon as you’re out of the car and inside, he lets out a loud sigh.
You intend to quietly and quickly head into your own room, where you’ll cry until you fall asleep or you need more water before you can shed a single additional tear.
“Don’t even think about it,” Chenle says, grabbing onto your wrist. “Talk to me.”
You stumble into his chest and hold onto his T-shirt like your life depends on it. He cradles the back of your head and sighs, thumb stroking your scalp.
“Don’t let them get to you,” he whispers. “They don’t understand.”
“What if she was right?” you choke out.
He leans away from you to look at your face. “Did you? Ever have feelings for him?”
“No, but what if—”
“There’s no use thinking about things like that.” Chenle’s brows furrow as he scans over your face.
“And now I’ll never know if he ever thought like that, and it’s my fault—it’s not what I wanted, because you know I’d rather fist fight him than anything else, but God, what if he—”
“(Y/N).” His palms reach up to cup your cheeks, making you look straight at him as he guides you to breathe. “I can very confidently say that Jay didn't have any sort of romantic feelings for you at any point, okay? Just take a deep breath.”
“I look like an idiot, don’t I?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, you don’t. You look like someone who really cares for someone they just lost. These feelings are normal, dude.”
“I don’t think you were ever worried about Jay potentially having feelings for you,” you mumble.
“He was very much into women, so definitely never a worry on my part.” Chenle snorts and pulls you back into a hug. “She shouldn’t have said something like that to you. You’re probably hungry, too. I’ll order us some pizza.”
“Let me pay for it,” you say, reaching into your purse for your card.
“Next time.” He nudges you before walking into the kitchen.
You sigh and follow him, quickly wiping the wetness from your cheeks. He’s typing away on his phone screen, resting his elbows on the counter. He runs his fingers through his hair and sends a quick smile your way.
Without Jay around, things with Chenle felt off at first. Everything changed for all of the people you knew in the blink of an eye, and now, you’re left with one of two of your best friends while the other is galavanting up in the sky.
Things would never be the same for you, but you still have Chenle. And at the end of the day, he’s one of the only people in the entire world that have ever understood you. You don’t even need to say a word for him to get a read on you.
“Pizza’s ordered.” He drops his phone onto the granite. “I need a drink. Do you want something? I only have beer and liquor.”
“Beer’s fine,” you tell him. “I shouldn’t drink too much anyway.”
You’re halfway through the can when the pizza arrives. Chenle grabs you a piece, and you pause for a moment. This whole time, he’s been doing things for you—and it’s not just now either. It’s been like this for your entire life. Until the time you moved across the country on your own, you’d barely ever even opened a door for yourself.
You down the rest of your drink, and Chenle blinks at you rapidly.
“Are you good?” He chuckles.
“Just thinking of how good I had it here.” You shrug. “When I lived here, and I got to hang out with you and Jay all the time. I never felt lonely or sad or anything like that. Always happy with you guys.”
His face softens. “I miss those days.”
“Me too.” Right when you open your mouth to continue, Chenle stops you.
“Don’t.” He points at you. “We were the ones who told you to go in the first place.”
The two of you eat in a peaceful silence, where you steal a couple glances at your long time friend. Had you come home any other time before this, Jay would be here, too, and he’d most likely be making fun of you and Chenle right now. It’s like things have gone back to day one, and neither of you are sure how to interact with each other. The atmosphere, the air, the storyline has all massively shifted. You’re unsure of what to do.
“I’m gonna watch another movie,” Chenle says absentmindedly as he finishes sending a message on his phone. “You in?”
“Oh, not this time.” You shake your head. “I’m exhausted. Last thing you need is me hogging your bed again all night.”
He laughs. “Door’s open if you change your mind. Night.”
“Goodnight,” you tell him, watching as he retreats into his room.
The click signifies he’s out of sight, out of mind. You let out a long sigh and clean up your plate before heading into your own room. It’s not as homey as Chenle’s, and the mattress isn’t as cloudy either, but you’ll make do. With a deep breath, you rest back on your pillow, staring up at the ceiling.
Part of you wants to be with Chenle, but the other side of you knows you need to learn how to be okay on your own, too. If Jay’s death has taught you anything, it’s that not everyone you rely on will be around forever. Maybe if you’d relied on him less—
God damn it. You run your hands down your face, opting to scroll through your phone. Halfway through a random video, you receive a text from Chenle.
It’s a simple message of ‘found this and figured you’d want to see.’ It’s a picture of you and Jay, where you look like you’re ready to punch him in the face, and he’s beaming widely as if he’s the funniest person alive.
The photo makes you smile. Your memories of him will stand through the test of time, but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to feel it. One thing’s for certain—his loss will always be felt. You’ll just try and make the most of the time you have left, because it’s very clearly fleeting.
You feel decent enough that you start to drift to sleep, but it’s your dreams that send you through a whirlwind. Images of your earlier years flash through your mind, and you relive some experiences you’d forgotten about. When Jay found out his first girlfriend cheated on him, or when he and Chenle got into their first ever argument and made you be the mediator. Happy memories suddenly came to an end when your dream showed him in his casket, surrounded by the people who love him—the people you abandoned to follow your dream.
You jolt awake, tears burning at your eyes despite refusing to fall. When you look at the clock, hours have passed, and it’s well into the middle of the night. You pat your cheeks to ground yourself to the real world, and overwhelming worry hits you.
What if you lose Chenle in the same way? What if all this time that was wasted is truly…gone, and you’ll never be able to make it up?
You never got to say goodbye to Jay. The days will continue to get colder, but he’ll always be cemented on a bright summer day in the middle of June. Winters without him will be like a frozen hell, and the summers will never be quite as sweet. Your heart pounds in your chest where your guilt resides, and there’s only one solution you know that’ll work.
You throw your blanket off your body and slide out of bed. The floors of Chenle’s house creak beneath your feet as you walk the short distance from your room to his. You contemplate knocking first, but you’re pretty sure he’s asleep anyway.
When you push the door open, the noise catches his attention. He turns over, eyebrows furrowed as he catches you in the frame.
“(Y/N)?”
“Hey,” you mutter, clasping your hands together. “Sorry, I thought you’d be asleep.”
“Nah.” He sits up. “Not doing too great at that these days.”
“Oh. Well, um, do you wanna watch that movie?”
Chenle smiles gently at you and pats the other side of his bed. “For sure.”
You end up next to him, resting your head on him like you did last time. He wraps his arm around you and gently taps his fingers against your shoulder. Eventually, you completely relax and stare forward at the screen. Despite the movie playing, you already feel your tiredness pulling at you again.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly. “It’s just…late. You weren’t asleep?”
“I…” You pause and turn to look at him. “You want me to be honest?”
“Always.”
“I’m so…scared. I’m not really sure of what, but I have this ball of worry in me. It like, physically hurts.” You roll your eyes and tighten your grip on him.
“I get it,” he murmurs. “Seriously. When things like this happen, it’s normal to feel that way. And it doesn’t make you selfish.”
A lump forms in your throat. “I—Chenle, I don’t want to lose you, too.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures you, pulling you closer to hug you. “I promise you, you’ll always have me.”
“But we never know, do we?” Your voice shakes. “All of it could be over in the blink of an eye—”
He cups your cheeks. “Just relax, okay? I’m right here. I’ve thought the same things about you, you know. To the point where I’m scared to let you out of my sight. But living in fear is worse than not living at all.”
“What do we do without…” You groan as the first tear falls, but before you reach up to wipe it away, Chenle beats you to it.
“We do exactly what he’d want us to do. Keep going and make life whatever we want it to be. He’d be so pissed if he knew we were sad right now.”
“God, he would.” You let out a short laugh. “He’s glaring at us, isn’t he?”
“Oh, for sure. For this and for having a fucking sleepover without him.” Chenle’s smile widens.
“He loved sleepovers.”
“He was insufferable about them,” he interjects.
“Thank you,” you whisper. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out,” he says, and despite the obvious part of all of it being out of his control, something settles in you.
Your brows furrow as you gulp, studying him to figure out what about this feels…shifted. Things don’t feel like they have every single time you’ve come home in the past, but that may be because of the obvious. There was always three of you. How do you recover from that and become two?
“You don’t have to feel weird about staying in here,” Chenle tells you. “I sleep better when I’m not alone, anyway.”
“It’s not just being alone…I think I sleep better because it’s you.” You curl further into him, and he squeezes you gently.
“Me too.” He runs his fingers through your hair.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“What did you say earlier? To my mom.”
“Oh, not much.” He shrugs. “Just that it was shitty to say something like that to you after everything that’s happened recently. And that you already feel bad enough, and she doesn’t need to make it worse when it’s not your fault to begin with.”
“Not much, huh?” You chuckle.
“It wasn’t enough,” he replies. “I could’ve ranted for hours about how that whole thing was bullshit. But I figured you’d be hungry, so I took you home instead.”
Home.
His home. Not yours. But you’ve never quite felt like you belonged anywhere as much as you do right now. You slide your legs to tangle them with his, and he intertwines his fingers with yours. Without explanation, your heart skips a beat. The warmth of his palm against yours has your mind in overdrive, but you don’t acknowledge it.
“Try and get some sleep,” he whispers.
You nod, terrified of shattering whatever shroud of calm is over you. Instead of a verbal response, you just close your eyes and try to ignore whatever that nagging feeling is snapping at the back of your brain.
Chenle lets out a short sigh, and it doesn’t take long for his breathing to even out. You listen to the steady thumping of his heart, the rhythm guiding you closer to falling asleep. It doesn’t matter what happens. He’s alive. The sound you’re hearing is proof of that, so at that moment you make a vow to yourself. To him.
You’ll never let distance separate you two again. You’ll never let him go the same way you did with Jay.
You’re going to be better.
And that promise, resounding in your soul, is enough to make the night around you fade to black.
A week and a half passes, and you’ve yet to spend an entire night on your own. You try, but every single time, either your or Chenle cave. Sometimes, he’d crawl into your bed without a word, pull you close to him, and breathe you in before falling asleep in silence.
He very quickly becomes your comfort. The only person you want to be around or talk to in the wake of a monumental loss. You try not to let Jay consume your thoughts, but every time you allow your mind to wander, he’s waiting for you at every corner.
The only time you’re truly at ease is with Chenle, and you’ve started getting used to being around him all the time. Today in particular, the two of you decided to have an impromptu picnic in the backyard, the sunset turning the sky oranges and pinks. Both of you lie flat on a blanket he spread out, staring up at the clouds as they scour across the sky.
An empty wine bottle is on the grass not even a foot away from you, and another one is half empty in between you and Chenle. You’ve had just enough to bring a calm, steady feeling over you, and you’re able to forget the world for a moment.
Your best friend lets out a sigh, shuffling a bit closer to you.
“What’s up?” you ask him, turning your head to look at him.
You’re lost in the way the sunset illuminates his face, how overwhelming Chenle he is while equally being reminiscent of an angel.
“You think he’s up there?” he whispers.
Your gaze returns to the sky. “I’d like to think so.”
“He better be. We both know he wouldn’t last a day in Hell.” He chuckles to himself, shaking his head. “I guess I’ve been thinking like that recently. About where we go after…”
“You know I’ve always had a sixth sense about him.” You nudge his arm. “Wherever he is, he’s happy. I can feel it.”
“God, I hope so.” Chenle inhales sharply. “I just wish…I don’t know. That there was something I could’ve done to prevent all of this.”
“Don’t. You’re the one who told me the what-ifs are pointless. There’s nothing we can do to change that he’s gone, but we keep him alive in our memories. That’s what he’d want.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he admits as he clasps his hands together over his stomach.
“What do you mean?” you ask.
He wets his lips. “Jay’s gone. You’ll go back to work eventually. It’ll just be me here, and I—am I behind? Should I be doing something with my fucking life?”
“Chenle—”
“You’ve got these amazing opportunities out there for you, (Y/N). Jay doesn’t get the chance to try, and I’m gonna waste my fucking life away in this God damned town.” He gulps and lets out a defeated sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this right now. And I hope you know this isn’t your fault—”
“Zhong Chenle, would you look at me?” you snap, waiting for him to turn his head.
Chenle furrows his eyebrows, and as his eyes meet yours, you see the desperate worry behind them. The fear of a meaningless life after the loss of a friend who could never do better now that he’s gone, and the knowledge that his other friend got out while she could.
You know him like the back of your hand. He doesn’t want this life. Truth be told, he never did. He wanted to make something of himself, much like you were doing now, and he never got the chance. No moves were made.
You want to tell him there’s still time, but you know better than to go there at this point. With a soft smile, you reach over and cup his cheek, allowing your thumb to run over his cheekbone.
“It’s not your fault. There was nothing either of us could do to stop this, okay? And do you know how pissed Jay would be hearing you talk about yourself like this? Chenle, you’re the best person I’ve ever known. If there’s anyone in this world who can take it by storm, it’s you.” You pause and take a deep breath. “Jay…dying doesn’t mean you have to lay here and die, too.”
“I needed you,” he says. “When he died, I needed you, and you were here. And you always know what to say or what to do. Helping you took the thoughts away from me, because as long as you needed me, I was distracted from feeling fucking helpless about everything.”
“I needed you, too,” you tell him.
His frown deepens, but his gaze softens. Your heart seems to skip a beat, and you still haven’t moved your hand from his face. The stare you’re locked in with him has energy thrumming through your veins, and the atmosphere around you shifts. A slight purple hue from the sky flutters against his skin.
“I still do,” he murmurs.
You nod. “Me, too. I’m not going anywhere, Lele.”
As his eyes travel down to your mouth, you quickly find yourself doing the same. Your imagination runs wild, wondering what his lips would feel like against yours. Everything that happens next is so quick, you almost don’t believe it’s true.
Both of you seem to lean forward at the same time, and his mouth brushes yours. His hand ends up on your hip, and yours moves up to his hair. The soft strands have your breath hitching, and the next thing you know, he’s kissing you. You’re kissing him. You’ve never considered anything like this with Chenle before, but nothing in your life has ever felt so right.
His lips work so perfectly against yours, you forget about absolutely everything except for him. Fingers gripping onto the fabric of your shirt, he shifts closer to you to close the rest of the distance. You attempt to follow his lead, but you’re interrupted by the wine bottle between you falls right onto your lap, the deep red liquid making you gasp as it soaks into your pants.
“Shit,” you curse, jolting away from Chenle.
He quickly grabs some of the paper towel he brought outside and attempts to soak up the alcohol soaked into your clothing. His hand presses against your thigh, and with a gasp, you realize what truly happened.
You just kissed Chenle. You would’ve continued kissing him, too, if the stupid bottle hadn’t been in the way. But now you’ve got his fingers digging into your leg, the warmth zinging through your veins like lightning as you swat his hands away.
“(Y/N), I—”
“Don’t.” You shake your head. “Everything’s fine.”
You quickly stand and make your way into his house to change. And to avoid what will come of this situation. Once you’re in your room, you close the door and lock it behind you, sinking down until you’re sitting on the floor.
You don’t care about your pants. Every aspect of your life has been upheaved this week. You don’t need things to change with Chenle, too. Ever since you were little, you, Jay, and Chenle had always been open and honest with each other—probably too much, in hindsight, but you trusted them both with your life. As far as you were aware, none of you had ever even come close to romantic feelings for each other.
When Chenle said he needs you, is that what he meant? Does he need you or does he need someone?
Your calm buzz from the wine has disappeared, and now panic sets in. You already lost one best friend, and you refuse to lose another. It doesn’t matter how much you wanted to kiss him. Or how much you enjoyed it. Or how badly you want to go out there and ask him what the hell he was thinking.
You flinch at the knocking.
“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” His voice is strained, like he’s having just as hard of a time as you are.
When you don’t answer, you hear a shuddering breath escape him.
“(Y/N), please,” he pleads. “I’m so sorry. Seriously, I have no idea what came over me, and I just—I need you, okay? I can’t be alone right now.”
You sniffle and stand up, cracking the door open so you can see him.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “Please don’t hate me.”
“You idiot, I could never hate you,” you reassure him, pulling him into a hug.
He sighs in relief, the tension in his body deflating as he holds you as tightly as he can. And before you know it, he’s shuddering in your grasp, his body wracked with sobs. Your heart shatters, and you cradle the back of his head. He practically collapses into you, and it has both of you on the floor.
You’ve never seen him like this before. Worry has your stomach twisting and turning, and all you can do is run your fingers through his hair and make sure he knows you’re here. That you’ll never go anywhere without him again.
“I’m so sorry.” Barely coherent, he tightens his grip on you.
“It’s okay,” you whisper, rocking him back and forth as you fight your own tears. “Everything’s okay. I promise, Lele, I’ve got you.”
After a while of you rocking him back and forth, he stops crying. Your shirt is soaked, but you couldn’t care less. You know he needed this, to finally let go of every pent up emotion trapped in his heart, and you want to make sure his thoughts won’t build up like that again.
He falls asleep against you, his grip not loosening. Eventually, you doze off too.
When you wake up, you quickly realize you’re now laying in your bed. The room is pitch black, and it takes you a moment to adjust. Chenle’s nowhere to be found, even when you pat the bed next to you to see if he’d taken his normal spot.
You toss the blanket off your lap. Before leaving the room, you change your wine-stained pants to shorts, and swap your shirt out for a T-shirt. As you walk into the kitchen, you’re surprised to find the light on. Chenle sits at the table, a glass filled with bronze liquid in front of him. With his palms covering his face, he sighs.
“Lele,” you mutter, voice hoarse from sleep.
His tired eyes meet yours, and he quickly averts his gaze and takes a sip of his drink. You shuffle closer and sit directly across from him, clasping your fingers together.
“You’re still up?” you ask.
He nods once.
“Can you talk to me please? This is scaring me.”
He gulps. “I’m so sorry. For earlier. All of it. I have no idea what got into me, and then just—I should’ve left you alone after, too, and I didn’t, and I feel like a fucking ass—”
“Clearly, you’ve had some pent up emotions going on. It’s okay to be confused about them, and I’d never be mad at you for needing me. You’re my best friend. One kiss is not going to ruin us or something. If this is the first time you’ve cried for real since Jay died, you needed that, too.”
“I’m…I don’t know. Embarrassed?”
“Oh, come on.” You scoff. “You’ve done way more embarrassing things in your life that I’ve witnessed.”
“It’s different now.” He frowns.
“Different? How?”
“Everything is different. Jay’s gone, we’ve both changed as people, our families barely even talk anymore. And you know they’ve been best friends for as long as we’ve been alive. If they can drift apart, does that mean we will, too?” he rants, tugging his fingers through his hair.
“Is that what last night was about?”
“I can’t lose you, okay? I panicked last night after I kissed you, ‘cause it felt like I’d ruined everything. And you like, ran away from me, and I—shit, I don’t know. Everything inside me just…froze. All I could think about was that if you left me, too, I’d be completely alone.” He downs the last of his drink, cringing as the liquid rolls down his throat.
“I would never leave you. No matter what.” You reach across the table and grab his hand. “Whatever that meant for you, whether it was an impulsive decision or if you truly wanted it, you can be honest with me. We’re going through a big change right now, you know. Things are going to be confusing and the only way we’ll ever get through it is if we talk about those confusing things.”
He stares where you’re touching him, jaw tightening as his chest rises. “It wasn’t the first time I wanted to.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry if that’s weird—”
“Don’t. Just keep talking.”
“I don’t know what’s going on with me, honestly. I just…it feels like you’re the only person who understands me. The only one who ever will understand me.” His voice shakes as he speaks, and his grip tightens. “Ever since you’ve been back, things have…changed for me, I guess.”
Your heart pounds, apparently hammering against your throat and making it hard to breathe. You refuse to allow any reaction to come out until he’s done, because that’ll counteract everything you’re trying to do here.
“And I don’t know how they’ve changed, to be fair. It’s different. That’s all I know. We’re closer than we’ve ever been, and um…” He closes his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he gains the courage to continue.
“It’s okay,” you tell him. “Keep talking. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I think I…like you.” Chenle’s shoulders slump as the words escape him. “But this is so…so much right after everything with Jay, and I don’t know if I really do, or if it’s because—”
“I get it, Lele.” You send a small smile his way. “It’s not weird, and I completely understand what you’re talking about. At the end of the day, we’ll always be best friends. So if this is something you want to explore, the worst case scenario is we end up right back to being friends, right?”
His widened eyes dart back to yours, shock evident on his face. “What?”
“There’s only one way to figure out if it’s real or if it’s a product of circumstances.” You shrug. “And honestly, I’ve been…the same, I think. I kissed you out there, too. But we don’t have to make this weird. We can let things naturally progress if they do, and until then, we’ll just be us. Okay?”
“How long?” he asks quietly. “When did you start…”
“The night we came back here after everything my mom said,” you tell him. “I needed you, and you refused to leave my side.”
“It was that day for me, too. I saw the look on your face when she said all those things to you. The thought of you and Jay like that got me thinking, I guess.” He lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you for not making this weird.”
“It doesn’t have to be. We’re both adults and we’ve known each other our whole lives. There’s nothing wrong with…exploring something as long as we’ll be okay after if it doesn’t work out.” You release his hand and grab the cup in front of him.
When you stand to put it in the sink, he leans back in his chair and watches you. You’re surprised by yourself, truly, because you expected some sort of awkwardness to start between the two of you after your conversation, but everything feels the same.
You make eye contact with him over your shoulder, and he gives you a small smile. When you make it back over to him, you put your hands on his shoulders.
“You need to get some rest,” you tell him.
“Come with me?” He places his hand over yours.
“Sure.”
He stands, and when he faces you again, the distance between the two of you is minuscule. You’ve known the man in front of you for your whole life. You’ve spent all that time with him, never quite feeling the way you do now.
Maybe it’s because of Jay’s passing, and the two of you are desperately grasping onto something familiar. There’s a pretty decent chance of that, but also…maybe this is how things were always meant to be.
You’re not entirely sure what to expect at this moment, but he pulls you into a hug, squeezing you tightly. You relax in his grasp, returning his gesture with ease. When he lets you go, he grabs your hand and leads you to his bedroom, and just like most nights before this one, the two of you quickly fall asleep wrapped up in each other.
A few days pass with no changes. You woke up first this morning, so you head into his kitchen to start the coffee. Leaning the small of your back on the counter, you close your eyes and inhale the scent of the dark, brewing liquid. Chenle’s shirt hangs off your shoulder, and it’s almost long enough to cover your shorts.
There’s a short knock on the front door, and with a frown, you move to answer it. When you open it, you’re surprised to find a woman behind it. She seems familiar, but you can’t place it.
“(Y/N)?” She frowns, eyeing you. “What are you doing here?”
You chuckle. “Sorry, do we know each other?”
“Oh, you probably don’t know me. Chenle and I dated not too long ago, and he used to tell me about you all the time. I heard about Jay and wanted to stop by and make sure he was okay.”
“Oh, he’s—” You pause, wondering what you should even say to this girl. “He’s sleeping right now. If you come back later, I’m sure he’ll be…um, accepting of conversation.”
Recognition comes back to you as soon as she explains who she is. They broke up over six months ago, and while Chenle didn’t really tell you why, he said he broke up with her. You hear footsteps behind you, and relief floods when you feel Chenle’s presence behind you.
“Did you need something?” he asks her.
“I, um, I heard about Jay. I know how close you guys were, so I wanted to see how you were doing. How are you doing? It’s probably good that (Y/N)’s back, right?” she rambles, clasping her hands together behind her back.
“Thanks for stopping by, but I’m alright. Having (Y/N) back is great, and you should probably get going.” Chenle’s tone stays steady, and you’re shocked to find him so stern with her.
“Chenle, I—”
“I don’t know what your goal was in showing up here, but you shouldn’t have. (Y/N), close the door please.”
You shoot a nervous glance over your shoulder, and then an awkward smile to the girl on the other side, and then do as he says. After, you turn to face him with a raised eyebrow.
“Not even worth the conversation,” he says, shaking his head. “Is that coffee I smell?”
You nod. “Yep, I figured you’ve made me enough coffee, so it’s probably my turn.”
You rest the small of your back against the counter, and he approaches you, placing his hands on either side of you as he leans closer to you. Your heart races, lodged in your throat as you await his next move.
“You know, your eyes dilate when you look at me,” he teases you.
“Shut up.” You gently push at his chest and laugh. “It’s only because you piss me off.”
“Not according to science.” He gives you a smug grin.
“I cannot believe you’re flirting with me right now,” you tell him, scoffing. “I haven’t even had any coffee yet. I can’t keep up.”
It’s been days since the kiss. So much time has passed, and he hasn’t even so much as tried to kiss you again. The way his gaze flicks down and his smile fades has every logical thought escaping your brain.
“Relax,” he whispers. “It’ll never feel normal if you don’t.”
You let the tension release from your shoulders, and you nod. His hand slides beneath the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his palm directly on your hip. Your face heats up at the gesture, unsure of how to reciprocate or let him know you like it.
“I think we should really talk about all of that, though.” You clear your throat.
He quirks an eyebrow at you. “We’ll talk about it soon. Not at this very second.”
He lifts his other hand to the back of your neck, his thumb stroking your skin as he leans forward. You meet him in the middle and grip onto his shoulders. The kiss is short, and as he pulls away, his eyes flutter open.
“Again,” you say.
He kisses you again, and this time, he moves a little closer to you to make sure his chest is against yours. His fingers weave into your hair, and you let out a short moan. Embarrassment floods through you as you pull away from him and drop your head against his chest.
“Did you just—”
“Don’t you dare.” You shake your head.
“Maybe we should put everything out on the table,” he continues. “Like what…um, what we’re okay with during our…this, and what things are off-limits.”
“I would think that things shouldn’t be off-limits if we’re trying to see if this is real. If we’re…compatible.” Your cheeks burn as the words leave your mouth. “Why are we being like this? We’ve never been awkward talking about sex.”
His eyes widen and his face turns bright red. “Probably because we’ve never talked about sex together. Like me and you.”
“That’s really weird to think about.”
“Sure is.”
“Should we…move on? I think the coffee’s done.” You push his arm away so you can slide away from him. Clearing your throat, you grab two coffee cups from the cupboard.
Chenle leans his back against the counter where you’d just been, with his arms crossed over his chest. You make both coffees and mix them together before turning around to hand him his. He takes it with a smile and a quick thank you, and then you sip your own.
“So,” you start. “Tell me what happened with that girl.”
He sighs. “You really wanna know?”
“Of course, I do. It’s a little weird that I don’t know already.”
“She was weirdly obsessed with you and Jay. Like, constantly was bringing you up despite never having met you, and just…it was weird. Kinda gave me the vibes that she’d just be jealous all the time when you did come around.” He pauses, pursing his lips as he thinks further. “That, and she tried to fuck Jay.”
You choke on your coffee. “Hello? She did what?”
“Yep. Jay came to me immediately, obviously, and I broke up with her right after.” He shrugs. “We weren’t together for that long.”
“It was weird because she did act like she knew me.” You set your cup down on the counter and approach him again. Wrapping your arms around him, you place your head on his chest. He squeezes you closer to him.
“Jay and I talked about you all the time,” he reminds you. “C’mon, you’re our favorite person. Of course, everyone in our lives would know you.”
“You two have always loved to talk, that’s for sure.” You grin up at him, and he feigns annoyance and pokes your side.
It becomes an unspoken rule between the two of you that you’ll start trying to let things happen as naturally as possible. Living in a small town makes it nearly impossible to keep gossip from spreading, so any time you go out together, you make it look as friendly as possible. Regardless, people were going to talk anyway.
You and Chenle are halfway through a bottle of wine at dinner when both your mom and his mom show up. Chenle shares a panicked look with you, but you scoot over to let your mom sit down.
“What are you two doing here?” you ask.
“Yu Baeyoung said she saw you here.” Your mom nudges your arm.
You chuckle. “Yes, I’ve been around for almost a month and a half now.”
“No, silly, she means here. With Chenle,” his mom interjects.
Chenle’s face scrunches up. “Let’s not do this right now.”
“Do what?” Your mom’s brow raises.
“You guys have done this to us our entire lives.” You scratch the top of your head. “Can’t two friends enjoy dinner without meddling?”
“This is a nice place for a couple of friends to hang out.” His mom gestures to the wine. “Drink choice doesn’t seem friendly either.”
“Would you prefer us slamming shots of tequila?” Chenle presses his lips together in a thin line, but he’s incredibly stiff.
You decided not to tell your families about any of this for this exact reason—they’d get way too far ahead of themselves, and the last thing you need is for this not to work out and both sides asking hundreds of questions.
“Baeyoung said she’s seen you guys around together a lot, actually—”
“Mom, please.” Chenle lets out a long sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “If we had something to tell you, we’d let you know. And if you did think we were here for…I don’t know, whatever, why would you butt in instead of letting us continue?”
You grab your wine glass and finish off what’s left in it.
“We’re just curious.” Your mom pouts and crosses her arms over her chest. “I think you’d be good for each other—”
“For the love of God, you were saying you wanted me with Jay for years just last week. Can I have friends ever? I really think you should go.” You don’t know what part of that sinks under your skin and picks at your soul, but you’re already on a tightrope with your mother.
“Oh, don’t be like that.” She waves you off.
“All due respect, but we’re trying to be normal after our best friend died, okay?” Chenle scoffs and taps his fingers on the table. “The three of us used to go out like this all the time. We’re learning to live without Jay, and it sucks, so if you could not assume things this fast, that’d be great.”
Guilt sinks into your heart, and you drop your head into your hands. You wish you knew what Jay would think of all of this. If he’d call you both crazy for trying to be together when you’ve lost him, a pivotal piece of this friendship circle.
“Chenle, that’s a bit much, don’t you think?” his mom asks.
“It’s not. It’s really not. And not only was he our best friend, but he was the first…passing we’ve experienced. So, we need space if you guys are going to keep assuming things that don’t even matter to you. Even if we were dating, we’re grown adults and we’d tell you when we’re ready.”
You gape at Chenle. He slumps back against the booth and sighs. Your mother shifts next to you, and Chenle’s mom’s smile fades quickly. You’ve done well thus far in distracting yourself from Jay. The days don’t get easier, but they seem shorter, at least. Having Chenle by your side helps. He was right when he said it would never get better, only that you’d learn to adjust to it. Instead of a sharp, stabbing pain every time you think of him, the knife gets a little duller every day. That, or your heart steels in resolve a little bit more.
“He’s right.” You nod. “We’re not teenagers anymore, guys. You don’t need to know everything about us, or gang up on us at dinner. We’re adults trying to navigate life, and you need to give us the room to do that.”
“I never thought of it that way. This was all lighthearted fun, dear. We thought it might help to keep you guys distracted from everything, but we’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want us to do.” Chenle’s mom puts her hand on his shoulder.
Your mom murmurs an agreement, and then after a confirmation from you and Chenle, they get up and leave the two of you to your dinner. You empty the wine bottle between the two glasses and raise your eyebrow at him.
“I like when you stand up for us like that,” you say, leaning back against your seat.
A smile forms on his face as he rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe they just date crashed us. Maybe we’ll be able to go out without the town out to get us one day.”
“Doubtful. But hopefully, we’ll eventually know what this is.” You sip your wine. “Then, it won’t matter what everyone knows.”
His gaze softens and trails over you. “And we’ll be fine either way.”
“That we will.” You raise your glass and smile as he clinks his against yours.
When you get back to Chenle’s house, he guides you inside with a hand on the small of your back. He helps you take your jacket off, and the warm of his touch down your arms sends goosebumps along your skin.
At this point, you’re pretty sure it’s real for you. That your feelings aren’t a product of losing a friend and clinging onto normalcy, but the start of something beautiful you could have with Chenle.
You take a step toward your room, and he grabs your wrist to pull you back to him. He asks, “Where are you going?”
“To change, you loser.” You chuckle. “I’ll be there in a sec.”
“Can’t you just wear something of mine?” He wraps his arms around you. “I like when you wear my stuff.”
“Just say you wanna watch me take my clothes off, you freak,” you tease him.
His eyes widen, and he takes a step back while his cheeks redden. “I wouldn’t just ask you to do that, but if you wanted to—”
“Oh, my God.” You laugh abruptly. “You wanna see me naked.”
“Well, I mean, not if you don’t want me to.” He clears his throat, glancing up at the ceiling.
“You’ve seen most of me already,” you remind him.
“Context matters, you know,” he interjects. “Like, yeah, I’ve seen you in bikinis and stuff, but it’s not like we were gonna do anything about it back then. Am I even making sense? Sure, I’ve seen you pretty close to naked, but it wasn’t because of me? Please don’t let me say anything else.”
“Your awkwardness is slightly endearing.” You snort.
He pouts. “Ass.”
You take a step closer to him, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and press your lips against his. He reciprocates immediately, the gentle movement making your brain malfunction. When you pull away, he’s smiling at you.
“You kissed me.”
“Yes, I did,” you confirm. “We’ve kissed quite a bit the last few days.”
“We have, haven’t we?”
You chuckle and grab his wrist to pull him to his room. He follows you without hesitation and closes the door behind you both before he heads to his dresser. He pulls out a shirt for you and one for himself. You turn away from him and switch the top you’re wearing with his T-shirt. The fabric stops right below your ass, and you reach beneath it to unbutton your pants and push them down your legs. Once they’re off, you turn to get into his bed.
You find him in the exact same spot. His lips are slightly parted as his gaze travels down your body. Your entire life you’d been able to admit to yourself that you found Chenle attractive, because you had eyes. Of course, he was. But for him to not only be attracted to you, too, and also be vocal about it has your mind in shambles.
He watches you closely as you climb into his bed and pull the covers over yourself. You avoid looking at him as he changes, and within moments, he’s shuffling closer to you. He leans over you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, to your temple, to your jawline. Nerves spring in your stomach, but you turn your head to see him.
“Is there something you want?” you ask him.
“This is probably the worst time to say this,” he whispers. “But this is real for me. I know it. These feelings keep getting stronger and I—I wasn’t going to even say anything yet, but I had to tell you in case…”
You suddenly feel embarrassment rise to your cheeks. Chenle’s your best friend, but you did just get into his bed wearing his shirt and an admittedly skimpy pair of panties. You turn to face him.
“Before anything serious happened, I wanted to be sure.” He gulps. “Because that’s obviously…a big deal for us both, you know? And regardless of what we said, I think it’d be hard to go back to the way we were if we had sex and weren’t good for each other.”
“You ramble when you’re nervous,” you say.
“I do.” He chuckles.
“It’s real for me, too,” you whisper. Despite it being the complete truth, a lump forms in your throat. You’re not sure where it came from, but you fight it the best you can.
Relief relaxes his facial features, and then he leans forward slowly until his lips brush yours. His eyes threaten to close, but he waits for you to make a decision. You’re not entirely sure what comes over you, but all you know is that you’ve never needed someone on the level you need Chenle.
You complete the kiss, weaving your fingers through his hair as you shift closer to him. Immediately, it’s like everything around you catches on fire, and it’s much too hot to stay as you are. You gasp into his mouth when his hand trails beneath your shirt, his touch leaving those same flames all over your skin. He grabs your ass and squeezes, a shiver rolling down his spine when he swallows your moan.
“You had to know what you were doing with these,” he murmurs as he slides his fingers just beneath the hem of your panties.
His words sink in, but nothing about this feels awkward to you. You’d be embarrassed if he knew how wet you were from his simple touches. All of that is background noise—all you care about is getting closer to him.
“Why isn’t this weird?” you whisper as you slide your hands beneath his shirt to get him to take it off. “We used to cringe at the thought of—”
“Would you kiss me, damn it?” He pulls you back to him, but instead of the urgency you expect, he kisses you gently, his lips slowly moving on yours. You roll, tugging him to take him with you.
Then he’s on top of you, slotted perfectly between your legs with your shirt riding up to expose more and more of your skin. His eyes scan over you, and he moves his hand up your side until you’re lifting yourself up to remove the fabric. A slight pause befalls both of you.
“What is it?” you ask him.
“I just…can’t believe I’ve never realized this before,” he whispers, eyebrows pinching. “How well we work together.”
You smile. “We’re pretty fucking great.”
“This probably sounds cheesy as hell,” he begins and scoffs at himself. “But you’re the most beautiful person I know.”
“Oh, come on.” Your cheeks heat up.
“No, I’m serious. I’ve always known that. You’re fucking radiant on the outside and warm and kind and loving on the inside. Nothing has ever or will ever be able to take that away from you, and I…” he trails off, swollen lips parting as he searches for what he wants to say next. “Don’t ever leave me. Please.”
You reach up to cup his cheeks. “Lele, I’m not going anywhere. It’s you and me now, okay?”
“I’ll be here as long as you want me,” he murmurs as he lowers himself down. “No matter what.”
Chenle kisses you again, softer this time as if this energy between the two of you is fragile. You slide your hand into his hair and allow yourself to melt. Spreading your legs a little further to accommodate him, you pull at the hem of his shirt. He moves away from you only to take it off, and then he presses kisses on your jaw, down your neck. You’re gasping for air by the time he makes it to the swells of your breasts. He leaves open-mouthed kisses along the edge of your bra, allowing his teeth to graze you.
You let your head rest back against his pillows and sigh as he travels further, stopping once he reaches your navel. Your fingers clench the sheets as you prepare yourself for whatever he’s going to do next.
“This is okay?” he hums against your skin.
“Yeah,” you say breathlessly. “Perfect.”
Being in the dark with only the shine of the stars to illuminate the room has this feeling much more intimate than you thought possible. You’d never imagined yourself in this position—literally—with Chenle, but now that you’re here, you wouldn’t change it for the world.
He tongues along the hem of your panties, and you have to stifle your gasp. The chill of the air contrasts with the wetness left on your skin, and goosebumps travel up your body. His fingers loop through the waistband, and without any words from him, you lift your hips up to help him remove them.
Chenle’s lips find your inner thigh, and you can’t hold back the noise that leaves you. It’s been a while since you’ve craved someone’s touch, and you never want his to leave your body. He already feels so different than everyone else. He’s still your best friend, but now he’s so much more, too. You trust him inexplicably, and this moment will change the trajectory of your lives forever.
You feel his breath against your core, and you drop your head back. He shifts and brings his hand up to hold your body down to the mattress, his thumb sliding between your legs to gently nudge your clit.
“Relax,” he tells you. “I’ve got you.”
He seems nervous himself, but after another shuffle, his fingers slide along your entrance. Your back arches as he pushes them inside. His breath shudders as he feels your walls fluttering around him.
“You’re…perfect, (Y/N),” he says, entranced as he slowly thrusts his hand. “So perfect.”
You whine, squeezing your eyes shut as you adjust to the feeling. When he kisses your clit, you grasp harder onto the sheets. Knowing the man pleasuring you is the one person in the world that knows you the most, that knows who you are within your very soul, has you immersed in every movement he makes. Nobody has ever made you feel this way before.
Sounds of your arousal follow his fingers, and he finally wraps his lips around your clit. You let out a loud moan, your back arching at the overwhelming sensations. He sucks on your sensitive bud, flicking his tongue back and forth in a matching pace with his hand. You squirm below him, and your legs begin to shake at the sensation.
He moves just a little faster, his other hand flat on your stomach to keep you from moving too much. You fear any sounds louder than whispered pleasure might shatter this moment between you and Chenle, but as he brings you closer to the edge, you struggle to hold back.
He curls his fingers to find your spot, and your body jerks. When he repeats the action, he moans, the vibrations against your clit sending you to euphoria. You gasp and your eyes roll back. He aids you through your high, carefully bringing you down before pulling away from your core. You practically slump on the mattress, but you lift yourself up to look at him. He sits up on his knees to get a better look at you, and you watch his every move as he lifts his fingers up to his mouth and sucks your arousal from them.
You gulp at the sight of him like this, his length straining against his boxers as his darkened eyes travel over your body. His tongue swipes along his lips one last time, and then he’s climbing over you again. You welcome his kiss despite the taste of yourself.
“I need you,” you tell him, pushing at the band of his boxers. “Can’t wait anymore.”
“Are you sure?” he whispers. “You can tell me if you change your mind.”
You shake your head. “Please, Lele.”
He inhales sharply, and then he’s assisting you in pushing the last barrier of clothing off. “Do we need a condom? I have some.”
“I—” Your face heats up. “I’m on birth control, and I haven’t slept with anyone in…um, a long time, so I’m clean.”
“I got tested recently,” he replies. “I’m clean, too. But this is up to you. Whatever you want is cool with me.”
“Waste of time. I want you now.” You pull him in to kiss him, and he sighs against your mouth.
He reaches down and strokes himself a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. His eyes travel along your body, almost as if he’s verifying you’re real. Slowly, he pushes inside, watching your expression carefully to ensure you’re alright.
Your heart thuds in your chest as he continues to move forward, burying himself deep inside you until he’s flush against you. He gives you a bit to adjust, leaning in to kiss down your neck. His hand snakes beneath your body to unclasp your bra, and you arch to assist him in taking it off.
“‘M good,” you reassure him. “You can move.”
“Just need a second like this,” he returns, dropping his head on your shoulder. “God, you feel so fucking good.”
His words send shivers up your spine, and you put your arms around his shoulders. He kisses you again, and pulls out slowly to push back in. The sensation of him rubbing against your inner walls has you gasping. His pace is slow but you’ve never felt so heavenly in your life. As his tongue parts your lips, you wrap your legs around his waist.
When you call out his name, he curses under his breath. Every time he thrusts in, you lift your hips to meet him, despite how you begin to shake from the intensity of all of it. His chest brushes yours with each movement, and his teeth sink into your bottom lip to pull at it.
Never in your life has anything ever felt like this. As if Chenle was the last piece of the 1,000 piece puzzle you deemed life, and you finally found it after all these years. His soft moans have your toes curling, and despite the knot tying in your stomach, you don’t want this to end.
As if he knows every last thought in your mind, he reaches between you and rubs circles on your clit. You shudder in his grasp and dig your nails into his shoulders. He moves faster, and once his tip slides into your spot, you crumble around him. You throw your head back, a moan tumbling from your lips as you fall apart.
Moments after you, his hips falter as he approaches his high. You kiss him hard, and he groans into your mouth, pushing as far into you as he can to finish. The sensation has you gasping all over again, but you hold onto him for dear life.
He thrusts a couple more times to bring you both back to reality, and as he slows to a stop, he peppers kisses on your face. Neither of you move yet. You bask in the feeling of him inside you, and his hand rubs up and down your thigh.
He carefully removes your legs from around his waist, and then he sighs as he pulls out of you slowly. “Let me grab a towel. Hold on.” With a quick kiss to your forehead, he stands up and slips his boxers back on before walking out of the room.
An inherent sense of peace overwhelms you, and once he comes back, he cleans up the mess between your legs before climbing in bed next to you. He cradles the back of your head to his chest, and he hums quietly.
“Try to get some sleep,” he whispers.
With him close and his heart beating beneath your ear, you don’t even have to try.
The birds chirping outside the window wake you up. You’re still tangled up with Chenle, blanket snug around both of you with you curled into his chest. Shifting closer, you think about going back to sleep until he’s ready to get up, too.
“Morning,” he mutters, voice hoarse from sleep.
You shake your head. “More sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He squeezes you and lets out a sigh of content.
Peaceful silence takes the two of you over, and you can’t help but smile at the thought of how far you both have come. You’re on top of the world—your feelings for Chenle are real, and you’ve discovered something you never thought would be possible.
His fingers trace up and down your spine, a deep hum escaping him. “This is real.”
“Mhm,” you reply. “We’re naked right now.”
“And you’re so fucking soft.” He sighs. “Is there any reason we need to get up today?”
“Wouldn’t matter if there was. Not moving.” You kiss the base of his neck.
“Sounds good to me.”
Despite the prospect of being wrapped up in each other all day, eventually, both of you get hungry. He takes you to one of the local diners for breakfast, and you study him closely while he sips his coffee and looks through the menu.
You expected some aspect of your relationship with him to be awkward at this point, but nothing has changed between you. Well, with the exception that every time you see his fingers, heat rises to your cheeks. Besides that, you’re perfectly normal.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks without removing his eyes from the menu.
“Who, me?”
He finally glances up, a smile playing on his lips. “Yes, (Y/N), you.”
“Well.” You clear your throat. “I’m just…thinking.”
“I put that together.” He tips his cup to his lips again.
“What do we do from here?” you blurt out, immediately dropping your head into your palm.
He chuckles and clasps his hands together over the table. “I was waiting for you to bring it up. But if we both know it’s real, and we’ve…gone as far as we have, um, I was hoping we’d be together.”
“That doesn’t scare you?” you ask.
“Does it scare you?” he counters.
You shake your head. “Not at all.”
“Full transparency, then. That’s what I want. I want us to be together and, as insufferable as they are, I want our families to know, too. And I want it to be us against the world, (Y/N). We can do whatever we want.”
“I guess that also brings us to what happens next month.” You look down at your lap. “When I’m supposed to go back to work.”
He gulps but waits for you to continue.
“What if…What if I didn’t go back?” you start. “Think about it. We could stay here.”
“You want to come live here?”
“I…I guess I just—” You pause in an attempt to gather your thoughts. “After everything with Jay, it made me realize how long I’ve really been gone. And being back here…I missed it a little. You and my family and the town itself. I don’t want to miss any part of anyone else’s life. I really did Jay a disservice by not coming around as often as I should’ve.”
“You’d give up all of that work you did for me?” He frowns.
“It’s not just for you, but yes. I don’t fully enjoy what I do. It’s all work and it takes up all my time. Why do that when I could do something around here and get to spend actual free time with you?”
He reaches across the table and grasps your hand. “There’s always room for you with me, but I want you to be sure about something like that. You’ve worked so hard, and if you’re changing your mind because of us, I don’t want to come between you and your dreams.”
“I’ve been thinking about it before we started this,” you tell him. “From the second I heard about Jay. I certainly don’t want you out here by yourself.”
“Don’t think we could swing long distance?” He cracks a smile.
“Ridiculous.” You scoff and take a drink of your coffee. “We have some time. Let’s think about it later, alright?”
“Agreed.”
After breakfast, Chenle leads you out of the restaurant with your fingers intertwined. You try not to blush at the simple gesture, but you can’t help it. He leads you to the passenger side of his car, and you lean back against the metal. The distance between you two is almost non-existent, and his hand rests on your waist.
“You’re sure you don’t care if people know?” he asks.
“Positive.” You grin.
He cups your cheek, smiling back at you as he strokes your skin with his thumb. After, he leans in and kisses you. Oxygen is stolen from your lungs, but you relish in the feeling of him. The sun feels warmer, the day a little brighter, and your heart a little fuller.
You never expected this to be the answer—for you to find a different kind of solace in your best friend, but you’re here anyway.
He winks at you once he pulls away, earning him a slap on the chest. After you roll your eyes, he opens the door for you and guides you into the car.
By the time you make it back to his house, he leads you inside. You’re barely a few feet within the door when both of your phones start buzzing. He takes his out of his pocket, shows you it’s his mother calling, laughs, and tosses it on the couch. You follow his lead, and then he grabs your hand and pulls you towards his room.
“If you thought you were going to make it out of here for long, you were mistaken.” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him. “I have plans for us today. Our schedule’s booked actually, and it mostly involves us in my bed.”
“Luckily for you, that’s exactly what I was hoping for.”
“Oh, good. Hopefully, they don’t decide to come here. Probably not the show they thought they’d be signing up for.” He ponders the thought for a moment.
“Shame on them for not respecting our privacy,” you mutter, grasping onto the back of his neck. “Maybe it’ll teach them to back off a little.”
“You’re so right,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you.
Tugging you closer, he whirls you around to walk you back toward his bed, where you’re more than ready to spend the next few hours.
Later that night, you and Chenle are ready for bed, with you curled into his chest. He runs his fingers through your hair, humming quietly. You don’t recognize the melody, but he relaxes you all the same.
“Do you think this ever would’ve happened if Jay were still here?” you ask him as you trace shapes on his shoulder.
He purses his lips in thought. “I’d like to think so.”
“Me, too,” you admit. “This feels…like things were always supposed to be this way.”
“I can’t imagine it any other way now.” He takes a deep breath. “I needed this. You. And I can’t believe there was a time where we weren’t like this.”
You move so you’re resting on top of him, chests pressed together. He clasps his hands together over the small of your back.
“He’d be happy for us, right?” You scan over his face, tracing over his cheekbones with your finger.
“Of course,” Chenle says without hesitation. “I think he’d be asking a bunch of questions right now. Like how we knew, what we were gonna do about all of this, if he’s going to be the man of honor or the best man.”
“God, he so would.” You laugh.
“And he’d be insufferable about it, too.”
“He’d be the man of honor, by the way. I was his favorite.”
Chenle’s smile grows. “I love you.”
Your heart stops in your chest, and your lips part as you stare at him in shock. Although, you should’ve expected it. You fell for him, too, but hearing it verbalized is a whole new story you’ve never considered before.
Hell, the two of you frequently told each other those three words, but you know now they hold much more importance than they ever have.
“You…”
“Yeah, I do.” He nods.
“Like…romantically?”
“You’re such a loser,” he teases you. “Yes, romantically. Don’t make me take it back now.”
“I’ll be sad if you take it back, ass.” You narrow your eyes at him. “And I love you, too, if that wasn’t clear.”
He squeezes you tightly, chuckling when the air rushes from your lungs. While you never quite expected things to work out this way, you wouldn’t change what’s become of your relationship with Chenle. He was—and is—your best friend, and for some reason, all you can do is look forward to the future, where he’ll be more. Best friend always, but also the one you love.
The last couple weeks before you’re supposed to return to work are hectic to say the least. It feels as if you and Chenle are rushing to figure things out—where the two of you will stand when you leave and what you’ll do in the meantime.
So, in an attempt to get your minds distracted, you opt to go have a couple drinks with Jay. Of course, you had to stop and get his favorite beer—the same one you’d always hated and that Chenle’s not too fond of, but for Jay, you would endure it.
He brings a blanket. When you find Jay’s headstone, he spreads out the fabric and waits for you to sit before he joins you. You grasp onto his hand, and his knee bumps yours, but that’s the only physical contact you have with him.
Chenle opens up three cans—one for him, one for you, and one for Jay.
This isn’t the first time you’ve done this together, but it very well be the last. You don’t want to leave him. Not really. But he refused to let you give up what you’d worked hard for. You escaped the town, and he didn’t want you to even think about coming back when you’ve got so much left to do in your new city.
Chenle sips the drink, cringing at the taste. “Can’t believe he liked this shit.”
“He had peculiar tastes, that’s for sure.” You chuckle and refrain from touching your own. “You think he can really hear us when we’re talking to him like this?”
“Stranger things have happened,” he replies.
“That’s the truth,” you tease him and nudge his shoulder. “Maybe we should break the news to Jay.”
He takes the third can and dumps some over the grass. You both watch as it absorbs, and once Chenle’s satisfied, he purses his lips.
“You’ve missed a lot, dude.” He lets out a long sigh. “Almost three months without you feels unreal.”
You squeeze his hand and send a soft smile his way.
He continues, “But I seriously think you’d be pissed at us if we admitted we were still sad, so…(Y/N) and I are…together. Like, we’re dating. And to be honest, we’re both not too sure where it came from, but we keep each other sane after all this stuff.”
You loop your arm through his and rest your head on his shoulder. Fighting back tears, you realize how much you’d missed as well. There were stories you had yet to hear. Some you’d never get the chance to.
“I’d like to think you’d be happy for us.” You chuckle and take another drink. “You and this God awful beer.”
“I can almost hear him defending it right now.” Chenle sends a dazzling grin your way, and you watch him fondly. You never imagined coming back home would lead to all of this.
You and Chenle talk to Jay for a while. The sun shines pleasantly against your skin, warmth seeping into your bones. Chenle tells the story of you two falling for each other, how it was gradual and unexpected. Things had simply shifted, and everything became much more than you’d ever imagined.
When the sun begins to set, you wrap up your time with Jay. All three cans are empty. You grab them while Chenle folds the blanket, and then you head back to his car. His arm is firmly around your waist, and you fight the urge to melt into him.
As soon as you’re inside his house, he drops the blanket and takes the objects from your hands. Next thing you know, you’re wrapped up in one of the tightest hugs Chenle’s ever given you. You reciprocate the best you can, threading your fingers through his hair to soothe him.
“You okay?” you ask him.
“Yeah. Just wanna hold you for a sec.”
You hum in agreement, allowing yourself to melt into his grip. He kisses the top of your head, and when he pulls away to look at you, a fond gleam appears in his eyes.
“I’ve been thinking,” he says.
“Uh oh,” you interject, fighting your grin as he purses his lips in faux annoyance.
“What if I went with you?”
You recoil. “What?”
“I’ve wanted to get away from this place. You made it out. Let’s go together.” He looks at you earnestly as he awaits your response. “I love you, (Y/N). Being apart from you isn’t exactly what I want at this point.”
“You want…to move with me?”
“If you’re okay with it.” Chenle nods. “Think of the life we could build together. A real one that’s not influenced by the crazy ass people in this town.”
You flounder for words to say. This is the last thing you expected from him, but maybe you should’ve thought of this yourself. Chenle had run into a hard time because he’d wanted out for so long. You could help him.
“I don’t want you to give up everything you’ve worked for. Living here isn’t in the cards for you right now, and I understand that. But we both have an opportunity here. You keep doing what you set out to do, but this time, we don’t have to be apart.” He fiddles with the seam of your shirt, almost nervously avoiding your gaze.
“Okay.” You take a deep breath. “If you’re sure that’s what you want, come with me.”
He grins so widely, you’re almost worried it hurts. Cupping your cheeks, he kisses you hard, and you almost stumble backwards.
This was the beginning of a new journey for both of you. Neither of you were sure what to do without Jay around, and you wouldn’t feel right leaving Chenle all by himself. If he wanted to come with you, you’d be more than happy to have him.
You’ll get him out of this town he’s come to resent, and he’ll be by your side for every success and failure.
There’s something special about falling for your best friend—about loving someone who you’d already loved and known so thoroughly, it’s mostly as if nothing changed at all. Maybe this part of your relationship with him was always there, and you’d both been too blind to see it.
All you know is, after a clear shift in energy, things between you and Chenle became real.
You wonder about Jay. If he sees the two of you, if he’s proud of you. At the end of the day, you could spiral until your brain gives out, but if there’s one thing you could expect from Jay, it’s that he’ll never stop checking in on you and Chenle. Your group is incomplete without him, but you’ll learn to live in a different manner.
With Chenle by your side, there’s not a damn thing in the world that could bring you down.
#nct dream#chenle#nct#nct dream smut#nct imagines#nct smut#chenle smut#nct scenarios#chenle angst#chenle fluff#nct dream fluff#nct fluff#nct dream angst#nct angst#nct imagine#nct scenario#chenle scenarios#chenle imagines#chenle imagine
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Thanks For The Sub (ksj) | Chapter One
Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)
Rating: 18+
Chapter One length: 11-14k 18,371 (OOPS LOL)
Release date: Fri. January 19, 2024.
Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn (?), coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s
Summary: After a clip of you sucking at video games goes viral, you've become somewhat famous, with thousands of subscribers now tuning in each week to see you play. Overnight, you've gone from a sexually frustrated grad student who reads smut in her room to a gamer girl (or rather, a not-gamer girl). This would have been the perfect job, except it was never the job you wanted. Desperate for money to pay for grad school, you bounce between your new gig and working at a local restaurant to pay the bills, where your hot coworker-now-boss Seokjin plays many of the lead roles in your sexual fantasies.
Seokjin, two years post losing his fiancé and job within the same day, is tired of the rut he's dug himself into and wants to start over. Now 30 years old, he's stuck managing his family's restaurant where he harbors an insanely inappropriate crush on you on top of carrying one hell of a secret: Seokjin is also known as Jin, a successful gay-for-pay camboy on the streaming site Worldwide Handsome.
When the stress of the upcoming semester and the pressure to stream becomes more than you can handle, you seek out some much-needed stress relief online, only to discover a man who looks a little too much like your boss is staring right back at you.
Warnings for Chapter One: Swearing, cheating (not between main characters), big age gap between lesser characters that can be uncomfy, sex work, gay sex work when the worker is actually not gay (but everyone is chill about it), <- allusions to queer fetishization bc of this, feelings of shame and guilt, feelings of failure/depression, improper restaurant safety procedures, the existential crisis of your late-20s/30s that we all seem to go through, off-handed references to kpop culture including fanfics because I'm a clown and need to call us out sometimes, silly literary tropes, references to pregnancy (NOT reeader), boss-employee power dynamics, allusions to queer BTS members or relationships, cameos of au Seventeen Members (Wonwoo and y/n are besties). NSFW sex stuff: big dick Seokjin (of course), Seokjin with rolled shirt sleeves and cutting things in a kitchen, Daddy Dom Seokjin makes himself known, blindfolds, camming (obviously), f/m masturbation, lots of dirty talk, sex toys, degradation kink, praise kink, sexual fantasies at the worst moment, kink exploration, a lot cum (sorry), I mention the omegaverse as a joke, a sparkly pink dildo, seokjin has a massive collection of toys and he intends to use them, seokjin and reader are constantly horny, reader is kind of inexperienced, implied exhibitionism kink, implied voyeurism, implied public sex.
a/n: it's here (and longer than I intended but oh well!) this fic is inspired by a combination of fics from the lovely writing community on here, the copious amounts of smut I read, a dabble of my friends or my own experience, & the high drama of kdramas. I felt really compelled to write this fic after rereading "tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love)" by minilouvre on ao3. I feel like the camboy/person trope is so fun to explore and I wanted to try my own take on it with our Seokjin, who doesn't seem to get as many fics written about him but absolutely deserves it. I also wanted to create space for a fic that explores the weird transition of late 20s-30s that both BTS and I (and maybe many of you) have experienced in the last few years. I hope you enjoy! I keep my inbox open, so lmk your thoughts!
xo - h
That’s it baby cum for me.
Such a good little slut for Daddy.
Wish that dildo was my cock.
Fuck this is so hot.
The tip jar was going wild. The mute button tapped long ago, tonight was by far the most successful night camming Seokjin had ever had. He would definitely be able to afford that new gaming PC after this.
Thank god. After three hours streaming, he was getting tired of riding the glittery pink dildo. It was cute–a Christmas gift from one of his loyal subscribers– but admittedly, he hadn’t prepped well enough before putting it in an hour ago, and when he let out a pained groan as he sank down on it, he immediately knew he would be feeling it tomorrow, and maybe the next day.
His only consolation was the five new top-tier subscriptions he’d received while experiencing searing hot pain. He’d clearly appealed to someone’s kink. Well, there was always something for everyone.
Seokjin knew this well. Today was his two-year anniversary since his first livestream on Worldwide Handsome, an international gay live cam site. During those two years he had seen just about every kink requested, from wax play to autoerotic asphyxiation to something called the omegaverse; he’d sifted through the internet and researched enough on each request to decide which ones he’d be willing to perform, and which kinks were too much outside of his comfort zone.
Now, with an apartment full of gifted costumes and drawers full of just about every type of sex toy known to the human population (and perhaps even some aliens if those toys held any accuracy), it was obvious that Seokjin was a knowledgeable and successful camboy who could fulfill so many men’s fantasies.
Except for the fact that Seokjin wasn’t actually gay.
Which is, as it turns out, also something people are into.
Two Years Ago
It wasn’t that Seokjin ever intended to be a gay sex cam worker, much less a camboy at all, but two years, four months, three weeks, and twelve hours ago, Seokjin hopped on a plane after finishing a week-long conference in Los Angeles. He’d booked the first flight out, eager to come home to his fiancé.
During the week, he hadn’t heard much from her. He understood, of course. She’d mentioned before he left that during that week she would be busy catching up on work and finalizing a really important project with a looming deadline. She’d been stressed about it the morning he left, practically shoving him out the door with his suitcase.
But he missed her desperately, especially with the distance between them, and he was hoping he could regain some of that intimacy by trying phone sex. They’d been having less sex recently, probably from the stress of work, but he still craved her every single day, just like he did when they were in college.
For most of his and Soon Yi’s relationship, they were insatiable. In college, they were known for being embarrassingly public in their displays of affection, with Yoongi once catching them in the kitchen at a party with Soon Yi’s hand down Seokjin’s pants and Seokjin’s hands up Soon Yi’s shirt. At first, Seokjin wondered if he always felt so horny because of his raging hormones and the fact that Soon Yi was the first person he’d had sex with. But even three years later, on the night he’d proposed, they had to leave the restaurant he rented out so they could have sex in the car.
Soon Yi was charming. She matched Seokjin’s wit, always ready to keep up with a joke and take it to the next level. She fit in effortlessly with his group of friends, remembering their birthdays and always showing up with a tiny treat for them, even if they hated celebrating. His parents adored her the moment they met her. She was frequently fawned over when she visited his work to bring him lunch or to just stop by and say hello.
When his boss, Mr. Choi met her during the company’s annual gala, he told Seokjin she was enchanting, she was the moon that lit up the evening sky. Mr. Choi was also incredibly drunk when he said this, but he wasn’t wrong.
Soon Yi glowed through Seokjin’s darkest nights like the moon.
That’s why when she denied every video call request he made during his trip, Seokjin knew something was wrong. He felt desperate and needy, something he’d never experienced during their relationship.
As he laid in his hotel bed, touching himself to their memories, a strange need overtook him: he wanted to remind her that despite all the work stress, they always got through everything together and ultimately, being intimate might help with reconnection.
So at the end of his boring conference, he flew back, planning on surprising her when she got home with a delicious meal and sexy massage. Maybe he’d even use those silly novelty heart-shaped handcuffs Jungkook got him as a gag gift.
He was ready to rekindle his love for the moon.
What Seokjin wasn’t ready for was the fact that when he walked through the door of his house, the only moon he saw was that of Mr. Choi’s naked ass as he thrust into Soon Yi on the dining room table.
As it became immediately apparent, Soon Yi’s “work project” was clearly what was playing out before him as he watched the only woman he’d ever been in love with writhe in ecstasy underneath his much older work superior.
It would have been one thing to lose his fiancé, but in witnessing this entanglement, Seokjin also knew he’d lost his job. Due to the blur of his memory, his brain trying to erase what he’d seen, he wasn’t entirely sure when they realized he was home. However, by the time he had grabbed another duffel with some fresh, non work-related clothes from his dresser–after he breezed past his unmade bed that probably didn’t smell like him anymore–Soon Yi and Mr. Choi were half dressed and sheepishly waiting for him near the entry.
Seokjin couldn’t bring himself to look either of them in the eyes as he stated his resignation letter would be on Mr. Choi’s desk the following morning.
When he arrived at Jimin and Jungkook’s apartment to crash, that’s when reality set in. What would he do now? He had no house to live in, no job to make money from, and he just lost the love of his life.
His head was splitting from the idea of car payments, a mortgage under his name for a place he wouldn’t be living in, having to tell his parents, calling the wedding venue and paying that awful cancellation fee on top of not getting his deposit back. The extra zeros in his bank account were depleting fast and it wasn’t like he would be able to sleep on Jimin and Jungkook’s couch forever.
After two weeks of dodging family phone calls, desperately applying to every job that didn’t sound like a scam, waking up in the middle of the night from the lumpiness of the couch or Jungkook’s horrible snoring, Seokjin felt like he was out of options.
“I’m going to call my parents and tell them. Maybe I can work at the restaurant for the time being while I wait for callbacks. I have some money in my savings for my own apartment. I just can’t keep doing this,” he said.
“Hyung, are you sure? You know that we don’t mind you being here as long as you need. Really, it’s not an issue.” Jimin was gentle as always, the concern on his face knitting his eyebrows together.
But Seokjin knew he was avoiding the inevitable, so when he nodded and then called his parents, their warm voices on the other end felt like a sign he’d made the right decision after all.
The next week, Seokjin began working at his family’s restaurant, filling in for shifts that were short, typically in the kitchen. Chopping and prepping the food for the chefs, dish washing, and anything that kept his hands busy were welcome distractions from the painful reminder of what awaited him outside of the restaurant.
Soon Yi was pregnant. Seokjin found out one day when he stopped by to grab a load of his things to bring to his new apartment. While both he and Soon Yi agreed to sell the house, it appeared she was taking longer than him to pack. He figured this was because she would be moving in with Mr. Choi, who lived in the penthouse of a luxury apartment complex downtown.
During their meeting with the real estate agent, Soon Yi had scribbled her new contact information and mailing address onto some forms with Mr. Choi’s details. Wealthy people always operated on their own timeline, one where they could hire a moving company to have everything neatly packed and stored within hours.
Seokjin, however, was limited to an ongoing loop of back and forth where he crammed his car full of silverware, lamps, and his MapleStory figure collection Soon Yi once mocked him for collecting. As Seokjin continued to pack away his belongings, he saw it. In the guest bathroom outside of the kitchen, there were two positive pregnancy tests in the garbage can.
Soon Yi was pregnant and the father wasn’t him. The last time they’d had sex was three months ago. She would have known by now if that were the case.
A wave of nausea rushed over him, and somewhere between bouts of gagging and wiping tears from his eyes, Seokjin realized that things were truly over.
Two months passed, and still he couldn’t find a job. While the restaurant gig was taking care of some of his bills, it was only a matter of time before Seokjin would be unable to take care of himself. At 28 years old, he’d have to move back in with his parents, which was next to impossible in terms of space, not to mention the fact that his brother and wife were living with them while their apartment was being renovated to better accommodate a life transition of their own: they were expecting their first child.
Given his semi-recent discovery, being around a pregnant woman was something Seokjin didn’t particularly want a reminder of.
“I don’t know what to do. Something has to give,” he said one day as he sat in Yoongi’s living room. A thick coat of snow was covering the earth outside, though from the sweat running down the back of Seokjin’s neck, you would never be able to tell. Yoongi always kept his home at the exact opposite of the climate outside, trying to quell the possibility he would have to experience any physical discomfort if he dared to ever leave his house, which he rarely did.
His friends all sat around him, quietly sipping their whisky or beer while the flashing light from the TV casted a kaleidoscope of colors across the coffee table. Hoseok nudged Taehyung, who’d fallen asleep at some point between the long pauses in conversation. Seokjin couldn’t blame him.
It was late, much later than the invitation Yoongi extended typically lasted, but this meetup was different. Everyone had always known Seokjin to be optimistic. From a goofy dad-joke-making 18 year old until now, he’d consistently been a source of light. When Taehyung’s grandmother died a few years back, it was Seokjin who made him first smile again with a spot-on impression of his own halmoni as they slurped bowls of naengmyeon.
His hair was shaggy and unkempt, his smile fading quickly from his face after cracking a joke. His jokes were also darker, less silly and eye-rolling and more self-deprecating and sarcastic. It was like his life was draining from him before their eyes, and it was becoming nearly impossible to stomach.
But concern doesn’t always lead to action, which is why they were sitting around in Yoongi’s living room hoping the whisky would give them some inspiration to find a solution to Seokjin’s problem that he wouldn’t immediately turn down. They’d scoured job sites together earlier, and anything in Seokjin’s former profession only led to him suggesting his next boss better be a woman or else he might have to keep his future girlfriend away from corporate events or dining tables. Other careers in his field were met with similar disdain.
Seokjin wasn’t always this way. In college, he didn’t know what kind of job he wanted or where he wanted to end up, so he majored in acting, hoping that it would lead him where he would eventually develop some sense of passion.
In a sense it did. During an internship with an entertainment company shortly after he graduated, his attention to detail, natural charisma, and flexibility showcased a skillset he didn’t even know he had, which resulted in him being offered a position in their corporate headquarters the following fall. He’d been there ever since.
But Seokjin didn’t want to return to the same life he’d had. So much of his life up to this point had been the same, and it clearly didn’t work out for him, so why continue on? The only issue was that he once again felt like he was 18, trying to decide on a path to follow when he didn’t even know who he was anymore. Nothing was appealing to him.
“What about video game streaming?” Namjoon suggested. “You love games, and you have all the equipment. You used to talk about doing that all the time.”
“Yeah, hyung. You’re also really good at talking and stuff, so it would be fun to watch you do it!” Taehyung perked up at this suggestion, shaking off his sleepiness to contribute to the conversation. “I’ve seen how much streamers make with all their sponsorships and stuff, they don’t even have to work another job!”
The energy in the room picked up slightly as they waited expectantly for an answer.
Seokjin grunted. “Okay, look. I would love to do that. That’s my dream job. But you’re forgetting something important. Those streamers didn’t just jump on the internet one day and then got thousands of subscribers and sponsorships to pay their bills overnight. Some of them took years to build up their following before they even started making money off of it. A lot of people actually lose money from game streaming. And I need money now. I don’t have that kind of time!”
Taehyung deflated, settling himself back into the couch next to Hoseok, who gave him a tender pat on his thigh.
“But what if…what if you did a kind of streaming that made you money pretty much right away?” Jungkook offered quietly.
Seokjin glanced over at his youngest friend, who was holding his empty whisky glass in his hands instead of looking at him.
“What do you mean? Is there some kind of gaming livestream service that does that?” Now Seojkin was curious.
“Um, well, not for gaming, exactly. I was just thinking. Um, you could always do like an OnlyFans or something? I have a friend who does it and she sometimes makes $1000 a night. And that would take care of–”
“You mean being a camboy? Jungkook, seriously? Listen I know we’ve all had a bit to drink, but that’s a ridiculous idea.” Seokjin snorted. “Besides, the market is flooded with people doing their own sex work. Maybe your friend is just really pretty or something to make that much from it, but I highly doubt I would make any money off OnlyFans because no one would even see me!”
Jungkook nursed his bottom lip between his teeth as he was dismissed, his body mirroring Taehyung as he fell back into the couch cushions.
“Hyung is right,” Jimin added finally, having spent most of the night settled quietly next to an even quieter Yoongi. “He wouldn’t make much money on OnlyFans. All the men on there are either ugly or buff, and Seokjin-hyung looks way too gay to appeal to that market.”
Yoongi, who was sipping his whisky as Jimin spoke, spluttered into the glass as he lost his composure, falling into a fit of laughter. From the other side of the room, Hoseok joined in, clapping and gasping for air between laughs.
“Excuse me? What the hell does that even mean? Yah, stop laughing! It’s not funny!” Seokjin fought the smile that was trying to form on his lips. Okay, it was a little funny.
“Well, hyung, isn’t it obvious? Remember that one time we went to a gay bar and all those guys I tried to pick up tried to pick you up instead?” Jimin sighed as he glanced at Seokjin before reaching across the coffee table to grab a handful of cheese balls.
“We’ve been over this. They weren’t trying to pick me up. They just told me I was really handsome and had fuckable lips. And they’re not wrong!”
“Wait when did you guys go to a gay bar? Where was I?” Yoongi cleared his throat, finally recovering from his laughing fit.
“You didn’t want to come, remember? I don’t know why you’re asking this, you never want to go anywhere. Anyway that’s besides the point. Seokjin-hyung and I went to the gay bar and he stole all of the guys I was hitting on because they wanted to make him their baby girl!”
Hoseok wiped a tear from his eye and chuckled. “Yeah, no, hyung I’m sorry but if Jimin is being passed up at a gay bar for you, you clearly give off that vibe. I can see it. You look all soft and plushy and like you would be the perfect bottom.”
Seokjin tried to fight off the heat that was creeping up his neck into his ears, but after a few glasses of whisky, and the ungodly temperature of the room, it was a failed mission to avoid being flushed.
Jimin shot a glare at Hoseok, who shrugged. “What? I meant it as a compliment!”
“Well, thanks I guess. Now I know I look like I’m gay. That doesn’t seem to solve my problem here!” Seokjin looked over at Namjoon for backup, but all Namjoon seemed to be able to do was give him an apologetic smile.
“No, I know, I know. We got off topic.” Jimin said, “Sort of. Listen, like I said before you wouldn’t be successful on OnlyFans, just because of what they market. But you could always market yourself differently. And I’m thinking, if you really need to make money fast, you could always work with what you’ve got going for you.”
The entire room went silent.
“Wait,” Namjoon said, “you don’t mean…” His eyes flitted to Seokjin and widened in alarm.
Slowly, everyone shifted as they realized what Jimin was suggesting, Seokjin evidently being the last one.
How was he supposed to work with what he had when what he had was apparently drawing a different crowd of people from the one he was interested in? What did Jimin mean by marketing himself differently? Was he supposed to just stream on websites that were exclusively for gay men?
Oh. That’s exactly what Jimin was saying.
“Wh-Jimin what the fuck? You mean I should be a gay camboy? I know we just talked about me being attractive to men, but I’m not interested in them that way!”
Jimin huffed. “Well obviously I know you’re not gay. Otherwise we might not be in this situation.”
Seokjin winced.
“Sorry, that was unfair. It’s just…hyung, you’ve been so not like yourself lately. And you’re right, something needs to change. I know you’re not gay, but this still could help. Haven’t you heard of gay for pay? Like in porn and stuff a bunch of straight actors will fuck each other or some gay guy because it pays more than straight porn. It’s the same thing.”
“Only you don’t have to actually fuck anyone. Maybe you should remind him of that,” Yoongi added.
“Right, exactly! Look, you don’t have to do it. But it could help you get by and pay bills in the meantime until you find something else that you want to do. And there’s a lot of sites where you can stream even once and get a direct payout the next day. It might be worth a shot.”
Seokjin thought about it for a moment. It didn’t sound completely awful. From what he’d seen from the times he saw cam sites out of curiosity, most of what happened was masturbating and talking to people. And he didn’t hate people. But something about it made him nervous.
“I don’t know if I’d be okay with being watched. That seems embarrassing.”
“Oh please, the number of times you and Soon Yi fucked basically in public is astronomical. You’re practically an exhibitionist,” Hoseok teased.
“That was different! I was with her! Now it would be everyone watching just me up close and personal. Namjoon-ah, talk some sense into them. This is crazy, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know if it actually is, hyung,” Namjoon said lightly. “Jimin-ah and Hobi have made some good points. And I think…I think if you weren’t even just a little bit curious you would have immediately said no instead of going back and forth with them over it like how you flat out said no to the other stuff. Maybe you’re feeling a bit shy because it’s been a little while and you are trying to heal through the breakup and stuff, but you also don’t have to do it or you can do it once and change your mind after if you want.
“It just doesn’t seem to me like this is the worst option for you. You get to talk to people, you can maybe have fun. You don’t see the people on the other side anyway, so if you wanted to pretend they were girls instead of guys you could, or turn off the comments probably? It’s not real sex though. And even if it was, is that so wrong? It’s not like you would be cheating on Soon Yi for doing this. I mean-”
“Thanks Hyung! I think we get it!” Jimin interjected, raising his eyebrows at Namjoon as if to say shut the fuck up.
Seokjin felt his stomach sink. Is this why he was panicked at the thought? It wasn’t real sex, but it almost felt like he would be doing something wrong by doing this. Not morally against himself, but someone else. Maybe he was still hanging on to Soon Yi in ways he didn’t fully realize.
He felt almost like a heavy weight was pressing on his chest and forbidding him from moving on. What would happen then if he tried doing this for himself? Would the weight still feel the same? He wanted to know.
“Ah, fine, I’ll think about it.” He looked over at Yoongi, who looked relieved that the conversation was nearing its end. “You have anything to add to this? A final voice of reason?”
Yoongi snorted as he jumped up to stretch. “Nah. Except, as your former roommate, ‘Seok’s got a point about the exhibitionism thing. You were way too into showing me your dick all the time and walking around naked when we roomed together.”
The room erupted into laughter, Seokjin himself joining. This time his smile didn’t immediately fall from his face.
Slowly, everyone else stood, bodies unwinding from furniture and each other. While Jimin ordered Jungkook and himself a taxi, Seokjin waited with him.
“My only issue is, how do I pretend to be gay? Won’t they know I’m not?”
Jimin scoffed as he nudged a sleepy and tipsy Jungkook into his shoes. “I don’t know hyung. You have an acting degree. Use it.”
A few weeks later, Seokjin held his first stream, nervously engaging with the handful of viewers trickling in and tried to deflect the discomfort he felt in his new spotlight.
“Um, hi everyone. My name’s Jin. Thanks for coming. You can probably tell, but this is my first time and I’m really nervous. I hope you enjoy the show.”
Seokjin decided to shorten his name for his streams to help him feel like he was embodying a different persona, someone named Jin who may actually be gay. It wasn’t a big change, but it was nice to give himself some separation from Seokjin, the guy who was doing gay for pay to afford a new life.
Unfortunately, Jimin’s suggestion for Seokjin to act wasn’t as easy to implement as he’d hoped. Within the first half hour, viewers of his stream had noticed he was still nervous, and started asking him questions to get him to unwind, and hopefully undress.
“Ah, yeah, uh, anal. I’ve done it once or twice, it’s nice.” It wasn’t a lie, he’d tried anal a few times with Soon Yi and did find it nice, but he also knew that this wasn’t what the question was asking.
“Do I have a boyfriend? No, I’m single.”
Slowly he began undressing, the heat of his half-truths causing him to feel like he was burning up.
“Are you really gay? Well, what kind of question is that? I’m here aren’t I?”
That question seemed to satisfy his audience for another half hour, until a new thread of people trickled in, asking him the same questions. He was running out of ways to answer.
I don’t care if you’re straight. You’re still hot.
When he read this comment, he exhaled deeply. And from that one reaction, a flurry of others joined in.
Yeah, idc either. You’re still so pretty.
So hot if u were straight. Maybe I’d convert u. ;)
I’d let you put it into my ass and let you pretend it was a pussy.
For some reason, these comments began to fuel him. The attention was kind of nice. It reminded him of how he used to feel.
Maybe he didn’t need to act gay to get what he wanted. Maybe he could just enjoy the pleasure of the compliments and company and see what happened from there? The weight he had been carrying around in his chest was feeling a bit lighter, and the comments were helping distract him from the pinches of guilt that he was doing something wrong. Because he wasn’t.
Here, he was Jin, a sexy, flirty guy who could shine in the sky of his own making.
Jin, the moon.
That’s it. He was the moon.
Present
“That’s it, give it to me. Please, I’m gonna cum.” Seokjin hoped the words he moaned at his camera were true. He was so tired, and he wanted to be free from the stupid dildo.
Lately, Seojkin has been having a hard time cumming on stream. He wasn’t sure why. For so long it had never been an issue, but streaming had begun feeling less like a fun way to relieve stress and more like an actual job.
Never before was he so popular with his stream, and while it’s nice to see a larger deposit being made into his bank account each week, every time he came home from the restaurant and knew he was scheduled to do a cam show, his stomach knotted up with dread.
The last time he felt this feeling was a little over two years ago, when hopping on planes to fly to mundane conferences or sitting in board rooms for morning meetings consumed all his time. Even during the period he was jobless, there was a tiny part of him relishing the fact that the work-related dread was over.
And it returned with a vengeance. Seokjin tried everything, ventured into new kinks and even the game features of the website with the hope that he would feel the rush he used to love from streaming. But nothing really worked. It was now just his job.
He didn’t even want to stream for so long tonight, but because it was his anniversary, he wanted to make sure he ended on a good note to thank his viewers.
One thing Seokjin’s viewers loved was seeing him cum. It was the part of his stream when he always earned the most tips. Jimin had been right.
If Seokjin knew anything now, it’s that he had many assets worth using to finance his life, and his pretty face coupled with his big dick seemed to work for him.
But even as he stroked himself, precum dripping down the head of his cock, and even though he was riding the dildo in a way that would hit his prostate and finally give him an easy out, he could feel the edge pulling away.
“Fuck,” he grunted. He was losing it. He doubled down, rocking his hips to see if hitting a different sweet spot would do the trick. But it was to no avail; his cock was softening.
On his nightstand, his phone pinged, which only could mean one thing. Seokjin always turned his do not disturb mode on during his work hours, only allowing phone calls from his family or one alert from an app to pierce through the silence. This one was the alert.
It meant Y/N was online and you had just started a live stream of your own.
You were one of this month’s top gaming streamers, bringing in more viewers than Seokjin had ever received during his top months of streaming. You were popular not because you were good, but because you were the exact opposite.
You were awful at most games you played, jolting at jumpscares over and over, losing in first rounds of Fall Guys or Dead by Daylight. One time you jumped into a game of Fortnite and were eliminated by a potty-mouthed child the second you landed. Your jaw hung open as the tiny, high pitched voice called you a bitchass before falling into a fit of laughter that had Seokjin himself in tears.
You were inspiring. Sexy. You received dozens of comments every stream about how pretty you were or how great your laugh was, which you often didn’t read out loud but always offered a humble nod and show of thanks when you did. There was something about you that hit up the world around you, and though he wouldn’t so much as utter it out loud, Seokjin had a massive crush on you.
But Seokjin was also sort-of-not-really your manager. Unlike all the people pining over you in your comment section wishing they knew you in real life, Seokjin actually did. He saw you three times a week at his family’s restaurant that he was strong-armed into managing while his parents took the opportunity to finally travel and see other parts of the world.
Seokjin stayed, not because he needed the money. Not that his pay was all that much anyway.
Camming was incredibly lucrative for him, cementing his income in a way that allowed him to pay rent in a very nice apartment downtown. Seokjin was also someone who had always been smart with his finances and knew how to invest in the best trends.
When his house with Yoon Si finally sold (after four months of her taking her sweet time to gather her last belongings and sign off on him putting it on the market), Seokjin took his cut and applied it toward a better streaming setup and some lower level stocks…and a special edition MapleStory figurine to celebrate the new chapter in his life.
Seokjin’s family never seemed to question how he was able to afford his fancy apartment given how much money he made at their business. Well, they did ask once, but Seokjin orchestrated some simple lie saying he worked in cryptocurrency, and that seemed to be enough of an explanation for his family. No one wants to know how crypto works, which in the end worked in his favor.
He’d planned to leave the restaurant about 8 months ago, but then you showed up one day asking about a job. The restaurant was within walking distance to your university, where you were getting your master’s degree in early childhood education. While the program you were enrolled in had some funding, you’d told Seokjin’s mother you were a student and in need of work. The following Monday, Seokjin walked in and found you with an apron tied around your waist, your bright eyes and smile shining back at him. He couldn’t bring himself to leave after that.
A few months after you’d started working there, Seokjin and you had become somewhat friends, sharing stories about past jobs (minus some key details on Seokjin’s part), student observations you had to do for school, and your interests. You mentioned casually you were a livestreamer for gaming, never alluding to how popular you actually were.
Eventually, Seokjin convinced you to give him your username, batting his eyelashes dramatically and promising he would be your cheerleader. For some reason, that seemed to work, and later that night, Seokjin tuned in to your stream, one man among the thousands. From that moment on he let his crush become a safe thing where, like his own viewers, he could fantasize from behind a screen. Maybe soon he would actually ask you out on a date, taking your coworker relationship and transforming it into something more.
And then a month ago his parents left, leaving him with the roles and responsibility of manager. Which meant he was an authority figure who could arguably do whatever he wanted. Similar to how his boss in a way was an authority figure who could get whatever he wanted. That idea turned Seokjin’s stomach sour. He could never do anything about this crush now, not while you worked underneath him. It was too familiar and distorted, and he never wanted you to be in the position he was once in. It was completely inappropriate.
But try telling his dick that.
Two days ago, Seokjin witnessed you in the kitchen bending over to pick up onion peels that had fallen to the ground. You definitely weren’t aware, but your skirt had ridden up a bit while you were working, and that meant he could see a tiniest delicate trim of lace on your blush colored panties.
And despite the fact that Seokjin was 30 years old and had believed he’d gotten past his boner-in-public-just-from-seeing-underwear era during his teen years, he was evidently wrong. Because those panties and soft looking curve of ass didn’t just belong to anyone; they belonged to you.
This wasn’t the only time he got hard for you at work. Sometimes on days when there were no customers, he would watch you study at one of the tables, where you were prone to stretching your body after long periods of staring down, trying to unknot the tense muscles caused by sitting almost completely still as you tried to comprehend what you were reading.
During those stretches, you would often let out the most sexual moans and sighs as you felt relief and it was enough to have Seokjin tucking himself under his belt like a horny school boy. God, what he would do to hear you moan underneath him, because of him.
He thought about recording you stretching. He was addicted to your voice, your soft sighs. It would be so easy to just “leave” his phone in the booth behind you. Then he could hear it forever while he imagined what else made you moan. Did you like your nipples sucked? Did you sigh when you were being stretched open and felt full? How did you taste?
And then Seokjin pulled himself together and realized how sickeningly perverted he was to be thinking about you like this as he stood hard and aching in the middle of his parents’ fucking restaurant.
He wanted you. So much so that now as he worked his cock in his fist, he let himself fall more into fantasy, one where you were watching, curious about the many toys and gifts around his apartment, wondering how you could reach the limits of what you wanted and needed to make you scream. He imagined that across town, you weren’t firing up your computer for a night of cozy games, but rubbing your pussy at the same speed he was stroking himself, wet and begging for him to cum all over those gorgeous tits, that wet tongue–
Seokjin groaned as he came, his entire body trembling as a thick load erupted all over his hands, chin, and chest. Normally he could control the direction to minimize the mess but this orgasm caught him a bit off guard, almost completely lost until it crept up with a burning need and coated him. He hadn’t felt that good in a while.
As he panted and focused his eyes back onto the screen, his comments were flooded with praise and tips, viewers exclaiming how this might have been his best orgasm they’ve ever seen, which was saying a lot considering some of his subscribers had been with him from the very beginning, and there had been some pretty fantastic orgasms.
He wouldn’t deny it, though. He felt looser in his joints, calm washing over him and breaking apart the bitterness that was in his gut from how lackluster streaming had been recently. He wiped his chin with a grin and reached for the towel next to him, ready to wrap up his show. As he delivered his thank yous, one comment drifting through the chat stopped him dead in his tracks. His post-orgasmic high was crashing as panic flittered into his stomach.
Did you guys hear him moaning a name as he came? Who the fuck is Y/N?
She had to leave. If the king couldn’t overcome his malice, she knew she couldn’t stay. No amount of love she had for his son was going to make him see that. She’d told him she loved him despite the scar that ran over his left eye and down his soft cheek. She vowed to be good enough to marry him, do whatever it took. Yet the king and queen had laughed at her, had their guard hold his foot on her back so she couldn't stand up from her deep bow.
Laughed as they stood from their thrones to welcome the guest’s arrival: the consort for their son. The prince stood with them, silent as he followed them through the open doors. Quiet like how he used to be back in the first days of when she met him last summer. In memory, she couldn’t even fathom how he was anything like the man she’d grown to love. Yet, looking up from the pulp of the floor, she’d seen him return to that man.
Hadn’t the days she’d spent walking those palace gardens with him been enough? They’d stood together under the plum blossom tree in the middle of winter and he’d promised that he would love her even while the buds were hibernating.
“We can watch them become flowers together in the spring,” he’d said.
He had taken her to his bed that night. Used his sensuous tongue to lap at her sweet nectar. He devoured her heart and soul. Climaxed with her and held her through the heavy snow.
Where was that man now? She didn’t know.
She waited until well after nightfall, when even the latest bird twitterings were silenced by the call of sleep. She knew she couldn’t bring much, but she managed to slip into the kitchen after dinner to pull together a few scraps for the road. Where would she even go? The nearest village was at least a two-day walk and if he sent his men for her, she knew word would spread before she’d even arrived.
Unless he didn’t send anyone for her, she realized, her stomach dropping with nausea. He wouldn’t send anyone for her. She knew this. It’s why Prince August stood in the throne room, lethal as ever, even with no sword in his belt. August. Sugar. Whichever person he decided he was in the moment. Her nickname for him didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t sweet. His desire for power showed the bitterness in his heart. He had given in to his parents’ wishes, despite the times he swore he would never give them the satisfaction.
He was cruel. But even worse, she believed he wouldn’t be. She was a fool.
It was the darkest part of the night when she left the servant’s quarters. She’d miss the ladies and all their kindness, but she knew she couldn’t serve August his breakfast in his bedchamber after this. After knowing that the sheets she once laid in with him were now being laid in by someone else.
She took the back route, near the interior of the garden, ducking behind the ornamental shrubs and skirting past the watchpost the guards usually abandoned at this hour with ease. All that was left was to make it through the courtyard and she would be free.
She padded her way along the path. A light breeze of the pre-dawn was catching, fluttering the branches of the newly blossoming trees around her and blowing petals in their wake. She caught one in her fingertips and fought a sob. Plum blossoms.
Should she take one with her? For the memory? So that she could always have a part of him with her?
No, she decided. It would be too much to remember this. Once she passed through those gates, she would not be the same woman she was. Holding her breath, she let the petal go, hoping wherever the wind carried it, it would find the peace she too was looking for. It swept to the end of the courtyard, over the gate that was now her future.
This was a sign, she mourned. Not all promises were meant to be kept.
With a final look at the place she’d learned to call home, the man she’d learned to call home, she opened the gate, ready to forge into the unknown.
“Petal,” she thought she heard his call, his nickname for her. Though when she turned around, he was nowhere to be found.
She must’ve imagined it, wished for the impossible. As she took steps through the gate, she looked out at the world around her, the plum petal a few feet in front of her. Maybe she would take a piece of him with her, after all. It was too tempting not to.
She moved, trying to ignore the tug she felt back toward the palace, the invisible string of fate she thought that tied her to August trying to tangle her back in. She wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t go back.
She bent down, clutching the petal tenderly in her palms and letting the first tears fall.
“So that’s it, hm? After all that, you weren’t even going to wish me goodbye.”
She rose swiftly, whipping around to the voice’s owner.
There, leaning against the outer palace wall, was August.
The alarm on your phone chimes, pulling you from the book in your lap. You’ve been reading all afternoon, the sun now taking its final bow before plunging the world into darkness. Soon you’ll have to turn the lights on, then it will be time for work. On your only day off.
You groan, stretching your neck as you allow yourself to come back to reality.
To some, it would be hard to call your job “work”. Many people dreamed of being professional game streamers. Who wouldn’t want to be paid to sit online, play games, and talk to people?
You don’t. That’s the problem.
Your ascent into gaming stardom was a fluke. About 9 months ago, you were in between semesters for your grad program and looking for ways to unwind. Your oldest friend, Wonwoo, was a pretty successful streamer who often hosted game nights to play with his viewers and friends.
You frequently watched his streams, letting his soft voice be the perfect background noise as you studied and formulated the next lesson plan or behavioral assessment. You’d known Wonwoo for what felt like forever at this point, being his first subscriber, first moderator, and first kiss (not in that order). But your middle school kiss outside of the convenience store never led to anything more than that, as desperately as you’d wanted it to.
Once he moved across the country, you let your crush die with the distance. The years turned faster and your twenties were spinning by with the revolving door of lovers you’d watch him pine over, cry over, and in one case, almost marry. Streaming then became one of your main forms of connection, and your role as his moderator tied some part of you to him out of loyalty. To imagine him as anything other than a friend now feels ridiculous.
But that loyalty you have is also to a fault. When Wonwoo’s usual streaming friends bailed one night during a tournament, you subbed in…for a game you didn’t even know how to play.
And to make matters worse, this was a game that required talking to each other on-stream, which meant you not only sucked major ass at this game, but Wonwoo’s 700 viewers that day were also subjected to your constant frustrated squeaks, swears, and embarrassed maws as you tried to key-smash your way to victory but ended up throwing the entire team’s game with your incompetence.
Wonwoo wasn’t mad, though many others were. He knew what he was getting into when he agreed, and his streams operated with very few rules: no hate, no spam, and we are in this to have fun. And he did have fun. By the time the first round was over, he and most of the chat were losing it over your commentary.
As he wiped tears from eyes and took in a breath, he read his comments. “‘Damn, I never heard a chick threaten someone with a plunger like that before’. Yeah, I’ll give it to you, Y/N, you got really creative with your insults in that. Hey, PartyShitty thanks for the sub! ‘I can’t BREATHE’, yeah I’m still trying to get it together. W00000000000000000ziiiiii–damn that’s a lot of zeros in that username–thanks for the 5000 points! ‘Is she hot’ uh, I mean, I don’t—
“Oh shit, LetsGetIt15, thank you for gifting twenty subs! ‘Please, Y/N, start your own channel. I’ll be the first subscriber.’ Actually, no, I’ll be. But really, that's not a bad idea.”
Wonwoo navigated the rest of his stream with ease that night, but after it was over, he called you to try to convince you to start your own channel.
“It could help with school at least! Or you could get that special edition of that one book you like with the dragons or the blue alien porn stars or whatever it is.”
“They’re neither of those things, they’re actually–”
“Whatever they are! The book that has people fucking nonstop and some plot. You know, the special edition cover that you keep talking about in your close friend story that you won’t buy?” Wonwoo said. “The point is, if you start streaming you could finally buy it and then stop talking about it and I won’t need to see sections about how hot you think their alien or fairytale or demon whatever cocks are.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his exasperation. “That won’t stop with me getting that book, just so you know. And if it bothers you so much, I can take you out of the close friend story. I didn’t even know you looked at my stories that much.” You didn’t know he still used Instagram at all actually. He very rarely posted. He mostly lived on his Discord channel talking about games with his subscribers or other friends.
Regardless, it was nice to know that he was trying to be aware of your interests, even if it was incredibly embarrassing. Although the copious amount of smut you read wasn’t something you always wanted to broadcast to the public, you’d still made some friends from online book communities over the last few years and enjoyed keeping them in the loop of your reading list.
Also, Wonwoo had a point. Streaming could help paying some of your school expenses…or get you more books. You told him you’d think about it, and while you weren’t completely in love with the idea of streaming, it did provide you with some steady income until you landed your job at the restaurant.
After that conversation, you haven’t discussed smut or cocks since, and you’re honestly relieved, not because Wonwoo is hard to talk to about things, but because you are. Which is why streaming always feels a little uncomfortable and your position ironic, because you can barely have conversations successfully unless you really know the person to ramble about your interests to, or you can occasionally eke by with small talk.
But streaming requires the spotlight being on you in some way at all times. It’s your face that is fixed to the corner of the screen, monitoring your every reaction. It’s your voice that echoes into the mic and responds to your chat. Sure, you have mods and some streamers don’t interact with their chat at all, but you don’t want to be like that. You’ve been on the other side before, and know that most people are just lonely and looking for connection. .
From the moment you decided to do this, you were aware that because you were now a “gamer girl” you would be subjected to the three extremes of the comment section: chronic oversharers who tell strangers all their personal baggage perhaps in the hope that you will assume some role of therapist to them, people coming to insult your gaming (which is the point so that can’t impact you) or physical appearance, or sexually explicit comments.
Over the months, you’ve seen many things flitting by on the screen, deleted in haste by your trusty mod squad, but it doesn’t stop the fact that you still see them.
Those things you can handle. They are impersonal and a direct copy-paste of the same thing.
But when people compliment you? That makes you want to bury yourself under your covers and never come out. Because the compliments are always personal and touching a part of you that is authentic.
The people in your chat want to know you. They want to know what kind of music you like, your favorite foods and books. They ask if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend or partner, compliment your hair or the shirt you’re wearing or your gaming setup. It feels intimate. Almost like you could find these people and touch them and let them know you.
But they can’t. Because the only thing that drew them to you, the part where you’re this funny, positive gamer chick who sucks at video games but is down for whatever, isn’t real.
Spring Day Streams Y/N is a persona. You don’t stream because you’re her. You stream because you have to be her in order to survive.
And now she’s taking up more time. Last month’s streams landed you Streamer of the Month, which thanks to the exposure, brought dozens of new subscribers and thousands of points, and that helped take care of some of your expenses for the new semester. Some. You’re still behind on your credit card bill.
Also, more people means more expectations for streaming. So you’ve kicked up your streaming schedule from twice weekly to three times a week, with you occasionally hopping onto Wonwoo’s channel even if you aren’t streaming to mod.
When you aren’t glued to your computer, you’re usually at the restaurant, in a cramped kitchen where you do the prep work, often alongside him, your sexy coworker-but-now-boss, Seokjin.
The man you are quietly obsessed with. You can’t think about Kim Seokjin without thinking about all the positions you want him to fuck you in.
Which is also why you’ve been devouring books lately. When you’re home, you throw all your energy into the escapism they provide, especially ones where you can get yourself off to whatever fantasy Seokjin effortlessly slips into.
For every hot mob boss, corrupt CEO, longterm best friend, dragon-rider, fairy, demon, alien, ghost, or hockey playing love interest you can find, Seokjin is sure to fill the role. A hot merman looking for someone to help him grow legs and something else? Seokjin. A Grinch who inherits his family’s Christmas tree farm and discovers how much he loves to ho ho ho? Seokjin. A god who tears apart the underworld to find his lost lover, and then during the reunion fucks her on the throne of Satan while she wears the crown? All Seokjin.
Unfortunately, his transition from co worker to boss has made your fantasies all the more dirty.
It’s been incredibly difficult for you to handle the fact that any flirtation you two previously shared in the months before he was your boss can no longer continue. But it’s also incredibly hot.
Fantasies of him eating you out on the counter have been replaced with the fantasy of him shoving you in the back office and fucking you on the desk while wearing one of those perfect-fitting dress shirts he often parades around in.
And when he rolls up the sleeves to help in the kitchen? Fuck, it’s humiliating how wet you get.
The entire thing is pathetic really. He’s just standing there half the time, lecturing everyone on proper kitchen hygiene and ensuring one of the cooks doesn’t use expired seasonings for his eomma’s secret sauce.
And you’re standing next to him clenching your thighs together because when you’re this close, you can just make out the freshness of his cologne and feel the heat of his body close to yours.
When someone fucks up, he has a tendency to take over, chopping with unmatched precision and self assurance, trying to keep his voice even and usually failing as everything builds in intensity until he’s accidentally speaking at a million miles an hour and lecturing until his face turns red.
If someone were to pass by the shop, they’d probably mistake his shouting for anger, but you’ve come to understand Seokjin is just passionate about things. Usually when he comes down from his tangent, he’s embarrassed and apologizes, and not long after the entire staff is laughing along with him as he cracks a joke at himself for his inability to tone it down.
Which to you makes him even hotter. Seokjin is able to see his faults and work with them, not against them. He holds himself accountable. He’s nothing like the haughty men you’ve gone on brief dinners with after downloading dating apps for the hundredth time while you’re drunk. He’s actually funny, knowing the right way to use humor and tell jokes, never at someone else’s expense, and definitely without being disgustingly crude.
All those clowns you suffered through drinks with always made comments and digs at other women or referenced their cock like they were setting up some goofy scene from porn and you would find it hilarious and endearing.
Seokjin isn’t like that at all. He probably refers to his dick as a penis and would blush to high heavens if he knew how horny you are for him. He’s unwound you, and he has no clue. Maybe if it hadn’t been literal years since you’ve last had sex you could tone it down.
With working all the time and going to school, it’s already been hard to even go on singular dates here and there. And since the prospects were frankly awful, sex is just something that has had to go onto the back burner for a bit, but you seemed to scorch the fucking pan by forgetting to turn the heat off and now you are burning and hungry.
With a final sigh, you put the book down, annoyed that you didn’t have time to finish it today or at least get to a good part where you could insert yourself into the role of the palace servant and Seokjin as the Prince. Based on the reviews, there’s sure to be a hot sex scene coming up involving using a sword in a particular way that has piqued your curiosity.
In a moment of depravity earlier, you’d snaked one hand down the front of your panties to rub a few damp fingers around your clit to take the edge off.
You check the time on your phone, already aware that you don’t have time to cum before streaming. You already hit the snooze button twice. The spicy stuff will have to wait.
Defeated, you stand up, turning on the lights in your apartment as the sun finally fades away and the dark creeps in. You eat a bowl of cereal while doing your makeup, what little of it you want to put on. Finally, you fire up your PC, trying to ignore the irritation you’re already experiencing from being so high strung and unsatisfied.
The second this stream is over, you’re going to make sure you cum until you pass out. Until then, it’s time for work.
“At what point am I supposed to become good at this again?” You ask Seokjin as you attempt (and fail) to julienne carrots.
When you arrived at work at an ungodly hour this morning to prep for the weekend rush, Seokjin had already started the coffee.
Your empty cup now idles next to your scrap pile of too-wide carrot blocks that’ll have to be pulverized by the blender and repurposed in another recipe.
Seokjin chuckles as he buzzes about the kitchen, reaching tenderly around you to grab your mug for a refill.
“That all depends on how much you practice.”
“So should I expect a large carton of carrots to be delivered to my home this evening with the instructions to have them julienned by Monday?” You tease, as you split another carrot down the center, half of it flinging off the prep counter and onto the floor.
Seokjin smirks and bends down. He picks up the carrot and deposits it into the garbage bin. “Two cartons, actually. Given how many carrots we’ve lost already today, I need to make sure at least some of our inventory lands on the customer’s plate and not just into the trash.”
“How considerate of you,” you chide, and put down the knife, reaching out to accept your newly filled coffee mug. Seokjin’s hands are red from the constant washing and chopping of potatoes, which you recently learned he’s allergic to.
As well as garlic, and you’ve already voluntarily peeled and minced that for the day. That much you can do without guidance, but anything besides your imprecise chopping is on the list of knife skills Seokjin wants you to improve upon.
This is fair, given how dangerous your previous cutting methods have been. Once Seokjin saw the way you tried to stab at a watermelon, it was over. Now you often come in an hour and a half early before each shift to practice.
And to also be alone with Seokjin before he is forced from the kitchen to deal with other duties.
“Thank you,” you say, as you take the first warm sip and shiver. It’s freezing outside, and it’s only supposed to get worse.
There’s snow forecasted for the weekend, which could mean one of two things: everyone stays home and avoids driving, or they all leave the house in one show of silent agreement and fill every nook and cranny of the restaurant to order bowls of sundubu jjigae or crisp and hot pajeon.
Seokjin predicts that because a warm front is moving in afterward, people will utilize one of the only days of snow you’ll likely get this winter to gather together.
Valentine’s Day is soon, and the city has started to prepare. Storefronts have begun switching out new year sale signs for pink and red heart motifs, with spas and restaurants offering couple specials. The perfumeries have moved from campaigns advertising the perfect Christmas gift to ones of sexy, decadent colognes sure to transform a man into his inner beast.
And then there’s the chocolate. It’s like the air in the neighborhood the restaurant resides in smells different, less greasy and grimy and more sweet. Everywhere you turn there’s pastries, cakes, bonbons, crepes, chocolate dipped nuts and other confections that just looking at makes your teeth sore.
With the district washing itself in a pink glow, more and more couples have been braving the cold, landing in the restaurant after weighing themselves down with shopping bags.
You’ve seen what’s in them, often tripping over or kicking at least one bag each shift while you attempt to bring an order to the table and spilling the contents. This year seems to be popular for matching couple outfits. You’ve seen a lot of pairs in their early twenties wearing or recently acquiring sweaters that have the same characters or color combinations. With the temperatures dipping into a bitter chill this week, some have elected to wear cute but inconvenient sets of mittens that allow them to hold hands as they stroll.
When it snows in the city, the world gets quieter, cleaner. Even if people shuffle around in the bustle of novelty experiences, how they show their love, from brushing the snow off each other’s coats or taking kissing selfies in front of snow fallen trees, it always makes you feel a little softer, a little more at peace.
Snow is really romantic.
“What?” Seokjin asks, which alerts you to the fact that you’ve been staring at him as you let your thoughts run, a dopey grin splattered across your face.
“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about how much I love the snow.” You break eye contact, feeling the heat of embarrassment flood your cheeks.
“Ah, yeah. It’s supposed to start soon,” he looks at you thoughtfully before looking back down at the tofu blocks he’s draining.
A silence falls on you, the once normal pause now becoming a bit awkward.
“What do–”
“I just–”
You both stumble over each other, trying to fill the unnatural pause you’ve reached, which has you laughing and Seokjin cracking a wide grin.
“What were you going to say?” he asks, and then motions for you to get back to your carrot desecrating.
“Ah nothing. You were going to ask something?”
You slice a carrot, this time less match stick and more shaved. Damn.
“Oh, um. I was going to ask you what you like about the snow. That thought kind of came from nowhere and I was trying to follow.” His voice is careful, as if he’s trying not to offend you. Is he nervous?
Your mouth draws into a thin line. Can you risk saying what you were just thinking? Is it inappropriate to talk about romance in front of your boss, who you’ve thought about kissing in the snow at least three times a day? You don’t want to make him uncomfortable. You’re aware of the ways in which Seokjin’s new position of authority weighs on him.
While he’s always had more authority due to being the owners’ son, it isn’t like Seokjin walked around the place with a power complex before his promotion. You two had become something akin to friends in the months you’ve worked together, falling into occasional flirty banter as you shuffled around each other to mop floors or wash dishes.
You know he used to work for a large company a few years ago but quit to help his family with their restaurant. You also know he loves MapleStory and is always showing you his newest splurge from their online shop or the latest piece to his collection.
He doesn’t have any pets, but sometimes debates getting a dog and then when shown support, he dismisses it with boisterous laughter, talking about how he doesn’t have the time and if he ever wants to get a dog, he will have to buy a house. Usually once he lands on discussions of a house, he gets a little more quiet, perhaps a bit sad.
He has an older brother who has one child and another on the way, a major reason for his parents’ decision to travel now, before the new baby arrives. His brother and brother’s wife have visited a few times while you were working, but Seokjin’s mother had mentioned that her son and his wife recently moved into a new house outside of the city, and with the new addition joining sometime in the spring, it can be a bit exhausting to pack up the car for a few hours of visiting time.
While you haven’t experienced Seokjin as an uncle, you know how much he loves being one, excusing himself from the front of the shop to Facetime with his nephew from the back office, where you can hear his voice carry with high pitched impressions and jokes or random songs he babbles to the youngest Kim.
Knowing him in this way feels a bit awkward now that he’s the one signing your paychecks. Since his transition, he’s been a bit more formal with you, you assume trying to be respectful and professional.
You understand where he’s coming from, but you miss the past connection you two had formed. And that seems to dictate your response.
“I like how romantic snow is. How it not only makes the lights twinkle more, but how people do cute things in it. Snowball fights, drinking hot chocolate, building snowmen. They change their behaviors for the snow. To celebrate love in it. Last time it snowed here, I saw one girl push her boyfriend into a snowbank.”
Seokjin laughs as he begins popping the tofu blocks into containers. “That sounds awful,” he says.
Your heart plummets. “Oh,” you squeak.
His head darts up to catch your expression and his eyes flash. “Oh, no no! Not like that. I mean, being pushed into the snowbank. That poor guy was probably soaking wet and freezing after that!” He waves his knife in his hand wildly with his gesture and then quickly deposits it into a sheath before stepping over to your workstation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”
You recover. “Oh he was. He also got his revenge by pulling her in with him. And she wasn’t even wearing a coat.”
You watch Seokjin’s tense shoulders relax. His broad frame is so close now, towering over you. He smells a little like the earthy starch of potatoes, but you like it.
“I, uh,” he says, his voice becoming more raw. “I like the snow too. You’re right, it is romantic in a way. The snowflakes getting caught in your hair, you huddle closer to someone to share body heat, it’s nice.”
As if on cue, your bodies inch a little closer to each other. Seokjin reaches his arm forward, brushing along yours as he grasps one edge of the workstation to lean in.
“Yeah,” you reply lamely.
You blink up at him and he smiles back. You both sit there for a moment, neither of you moving, just studying the other’s expression.
Then, he leans in.
Your breath catches, and his other arm lifts up above you on the other side, caging you to the workstation.
Your eyes close from the intensity. He’s so close that you feel the fabric of his rolled shirt sleeve graze against your cheek.
All it would take is him leaning in and searing his lips onto yours and you would fold for him. You know this.
This is what you often fantasize about, the two of you in this position. That’s the power he has over you, his smooth seduction, your willingness.
If he asked you right now, you would strip down and bend over this workstation, let him fuck you with your nipples brushing against the cold steel of the counter, carrot shavings squishing against your face as he impales you with his cock.
It would be so easy, he just needs to ask you.
“Y/N,” he says, a bit more distant now, but you shudder at how roughly he says your name.
“Mm?” you hum, forcing your eyes to reopen. Seokjin has pulled away from you. How long has he been just looking at you standing here with your eyes closed?
“Turn around,” he says.
Wait, what?
You stare back at him blankly. Is he reading your mind?
Seokjin rolls his eyes and laughs, holding up the package of dried seaweed that was above you on the shelf. He tosses it on the counter behind him.
“Are you still here or did I lose you? I said turn around.” You freeze, confused.
He did all that to reach above you for some seaweed? Is he fucking with you? And what does he want you to turn around for?
“Wha–”
You open your mouth to ask but Seokjin moves in, his hands on your wrists as he takes you and spins you around so you’re up against your workstation, his stomach resting on your back as you stand sandwiched against him and the cold counter. You clench your thighs, suddenly aware that you are wet.
Fuck.
“You need to focus,” he says low in your ear. You take a shaky breath.
Focus. How are you supposed to focus when you imagined this exact scenario exactly one minute ago?
“I, what?” Your words fail you as you stand there, stunned and aroused but also completely confused about what he wants from you. This entire situation is a mindfuck.
Seokjin’s hands leave your wrists and make their way to your hands as he moves you like a puppet.
“Y/N, were you even paying attention? We just went over this. God, I swear, I’ve told you. You need to be present in the kitchen space. You’re lucky I resheathed the knife for you while you were on another planet. You could have easily gotten hurt.” Seokjin scolds you overhead.
Oh. You look to the right and see the kitchen knife you were using back in its protective shell and not where you left it, which, come to think of it, was incredibly close to where your hands were now on the counter under Seokjin’s. Yikes.
“Sorry,” you mutter, feeling a prick of shame seeping through the fog. Seokjin isn’t trying to fuck you against the counter; he’s trying to make sure you don’t cut your finger off.
He tuts above you, his grip still firm as he directs you to the uncut carrots and chopping board.
“Tsk, honestly. You’re ridiculous. What am I going to do if my best girl is hospitalized after losing her hand because she’s too busy daydreaming about snow storms instead of having basic kitchen awareness? You know, I could send you home over this. Make you unable to come back until you rewatch those kitchen safety videos with the fake blood and awful actors. Seriously.”
You shiver at his words. He’s so busy setting up for a rant, you almost miss it.
“Your best girl?” You ask lightly.
Seokjin stills, your joined hands hovering over the cutting board. “Oh, uh. You know what I mean. You’re the best….girl we have on staff. You know.”
You don’t. You’re far from the best girl on staff. Seha has a degree in culinary arts. She’s usually the one who has everything prepped days ahead with perfectly formed cuts. She manages the kitchen cleanliness with rigidness. She even barks orders at Seokjin when he’s in the kitchen because he isn’t as clean as her.
If she wasn’t out with the flu, none of this work would even need to be done. Maybe Seokjin is getting sick too. He’s been feverish looking and a little uneasy around you all morning, and clearly he’s now being delusional.
“Ah,” you concede, and give your hands a shake to urge him to continue.
“Right, anyway. You’re getting better at your cuts, but I’m losing money quickly with all your sacrifices to the floor goblins. And we don’t have much time left before the others start coming in, so let’s finish this up.”
You let Seokjin guide you, literally hand-over-hand, as he restructures your positioning on the knife and angle of the blade to slice through the carrots a lot more cleanly and easily.
“That’s it, good. You’re doing such a good job,” he breathes.
You feel his exhale along your spine. God, you’re a pervert. He’s just trying to help you better yourself, and all you’re thinking about is how dominating he seems right now and how much you want to please him.
God, if he calls you a good girl you know you’re going to moan audibly. That’s how bad he’s got you.
You keep working, and once you get the hang of it, Seokjin’s grip loosens, allowing you to finish the bag by yourself. But his hands are still on yours, even if you’re the one in control.
After a while though, it’s becoming too much to handle. Him bent over you like this is limiting your range of motion, making it hard to wipe the sweat on your hands or move your scrap pile further down the counter.
He’s also a human furnace, the space between you still so limited that you’ve begun sweating under him.
In one particular cut of carrot, the sweat caused by the joint heat of your hands causes you to lose your grip, shooting it down onto the floor.
Reflexively, you reach down to grab it, but with Seokjin still attached to you, it proves to be an immediate disaster.
You throw your body into a bend, which forces you back, your ass grinding directly into Seokjin and being met with something very large.
You gasp and Seokjin grunts, swiftly releasing your hands, which are actually balancing you in your bend.
You fall forward, smacking your head into the edge of the counter as you go down.
The kitchen echoes with an embarrassing clang as your forehead ricochets off the metal.
“Fuck,” you groan, a sharp pain shooting through you..
You scramble to recover, one hand going to your head as you steady yourself, rubbing the soreness. Seokjin flails above you, panicked.
“Oh shit! Y/N I’m so sorry! Oh my god. Are you okay? I shouldn’t have let go, I just was–” Seokjin rambles as you stare up at him, trying to get him to steel himself.
“No, fuck, ouch, it’s okay! I’m okay. Seokjin, can you please just get me some ice and help me up?” You aren’t sure you can get yourself up as your vision swirls from the heat of the pain. You really went down hard.
Seokjin ceases his flailing and shouting, leaning down and picking your body up off the floor with impressive strength and carrying you to a clean workstation in the center of the room. He sits you on top of it, making you now almost his height.
Holy shit.
Once sure you’re not at risk of flopping over, he walks over to the ice maker with a clean kitchen cloth and folds some ice cubes inside.
You reach for the cloth, but he refuses to hand it over.
“Yah! No. Please let me do this, I can see the bump forming already. I’m the one who caused your injury.” He gingerly lays the cold cloth against your head. You wince.
“‘Snot your fault,” you pout, trying to ignore the pain. “It was an accident. No one caused it.”
Seokjin sighs and places his free hand behind your head, discouraging you from angling away like you’ve subconsciously been doing.
“It is my fault. I let go of you. After just lecturing you about kitchen safety. God, what kind of example am I setting? I’m really sucking at this boss thing.”
You reach up, placing your hand on Seokjin’s wrist to remove it from the ice. But he doesn’t relent. You keep your hold.
“Seokjin, you’re not a bad boss. God you’re literally the opposite. Everyone here loves you. You’ve only been the manager for a little while. Give yourself some time. And keep in mind both of your parents ran this place, and now it’s down to just you.”
You feel the tendons under his wrist adjust, his grip a little looser. Seokjin’s wrists are soft and tan, a thin coating of hair trailing up his forearms and under his sleeve. Your grip loosens too, and you let your thumb brush back and forth through the hair.
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t supposed to be the manager. My brother was supposed to manage the restaurant when my parents were ready to retire. That was always the plan, anyway. But things change. When they were getting their apartment ready for my nephew to arrive, I think they realized how tight space can be living in the city. We grew up in an apartment complex not too far from here and it always felt like we were on top of each other.
“Which, we kind of were. My brother and I shared this tiny room that had bunk beds, and we lived that way until he went away to college. I used to always smack my head against the ceiling when I was a teenager and woke up in the middle of the night. My forehead would get huge bruises on it, probably a lot like the one you’re going to have on your head.” He frowns.
“I guess my brother didn’t want to see his kids living like that either. I never minded it so much, but maybe that’s because I was the younger one. Not having any privacy during puberty or dealing with me during puberty was probably a nightmare for him.”
You shoot him a sympathetic smile. “It was nice of you to take over on his behalf then. I know you used to work for major companies in the business district downtown. This must have felt like a sacrifice.”
Seokjin’s arm falls away from your head, your soft caress pulling away with it. He sets the cloth down next to you. He worries his bottom lip into his mouth and then shakes his head.
“No, it was never like that. I’m sure eomma filled everyone and their brother’s ears with stuff about me. ‘Seokjin is our business minded son! He’ll make a great leader!’ ‘Seokjin is talented in the kitchen and spent his whole life working for us. We trained him well!’ ‘Don’t worry about him abusing his power. He knows exactly how it is for everyone!’” Seokjin’s says, his voice inotating the same pattern of his mother.
“Well, she wasn’t wrong. You are all those things,” you argue, lacing your fingers in his. You know it’s not necessarily appropriate behavior between a boss and his employee, but at this moment, you’d argue Seokjin needs a friend more than anything.
“I’m not, though, Y/N. I didn’t sacrifice anything to do this. It wasn’t some great act of loyalty where the son with a promising future gives up his dream for his family business. In fact I had to beg my parents to let me work here! Because I, their failure of a son, lost everything and had nowhere else to go! And the shit I ended up doing to even keep myself afloat…I’m not a great leader. I’m nothing more than a fraud.”
Seokjin rakes his free hand through his hair.
“I had a good life before this Y/N. A good job, a nice house, a fi-...just..I was living a dream that I no longer have for myself is all. But at the time I was on top of the world and now I feel like such a fucking failure.”
Seokjin looks like he’s falling apart, eyes darting madly as he shifts around, suddenly transforming into nothing like his usual cool, goofy self.
You need to stop this from getting worse. To distract him and stop him from talking himself into a pit of despair. If Seokjin’s mouth is occupied somehow, he can’t continue with all the negative self-talk.
A stupid idea flashes in your head. You don’t even think before you roll with it.
“Jesus, I can’t even manage properly. I messed up Mino’s paycheck a few weeks ago and I’m still not sure how it happened. I’m just not–”
Your lips connect with Seokjin’s, your legs wrapping around his waist to tug him closer as you move your body against his. Seokjin returns the kiss in earnest, parting his mouth to welcome your tongue as you lap the words out of his mouth.
His plush lips feel so soft against yours, his taste a bit bitter from the coffee you both drank earlier, but you find yourself craving more of it, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth with the hope that maybe you can absorb it.
Seokjin groans in response, gripping your hand tighter, his other settling on your lower back as he pulls you closer. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear every atom in your body is vibrating at a higher frequency from his touch. You want to feel him everywhere.
You break the kiss, and see Seokjin’s eyelids are heavy, almost like he’s drunk. You’re about to move back in, to tongue along his sweaty, long neck, suck on his protruding Adam’s apple.
That’s when you hear it. The slam of the back door as your coworkers arrive.
Seokjin jolts back, breaking the hold you have around his waist with your legs.
His mouth looks a little red and swollen. And his eyes are wide, panic flashing across his face.
“I–I’m sorry!”
Before you can reassure him, tell him that you’re the one who should be sorry, you started this, who crossed this line between boss and employee by kissing him, Seokjin bolts from the kitchen.
You sit for a minute, stunned, and then look around, taking in the scene around you. The carrot shavings all over the counter, the discarded one still on the floor. Your knife is unsheathed again. There’s containers of tofu and seaweed just abandoned in a pile next to a large pot.
And you can feel the puddle forming under you from where the ice has begun to melt. What the fuck just happened? What mess did you just get yourself into?
The rest of your shift, you’re anxious. Especially because you’re short-staffed due to the weather forecast, which has led to three call-outs from people who commute from across town. That means you’re performing multiple roles: taking orders, bussing tables, seating customers, and getting appetizers, drinks, and side dishes ready for each group of people coming through the door.
Seokjin was right in his prediction; you guys are slammed. And because there’s less staff, that means Seokjin is orbiting around you, following behind with cleaning rags as you finish bussing or running into you in the narrow doorway as you both attempt to fetch an order from the kitchen. You’re both flushed and sweating, the hairs on the back of your neck now matted down.
Your mind is swirling around that kiss and its consequences, but you don’t have time to lose focus; the minute you finish one thing, you’re pulled into another task for a temporary distraction.
Only to be thrust back into the reminder of this morning when Seokjin lightly caresses the small of your back as he squeezes behind you to grab more plates.
If either of you ever need a break, you don’t say so, only pausing in between rushes to pee, take a bite of something, and chug water before you’re thrown back out into the mess.
Finally, after you elect to work a double, it’s closing time.
“Y/N!” Seokjin calls you from the front as you scrub the grime off a stack of dirty dishes.
Your pulse quickens. You’re the last one here. The storm kicked up an hour ago, and since you live the closest, you shoved your coworkers out the door so they could get home before the roads were a mess.
You dry your hands on your messy apron, pulling out your phone and wincing at the slew of missed calls, texts and notifications. You were supposed to stream again tonight with a bunch of other girl gamers as a part of a “Galentine's Day” collab, playing dating simulation games as a warm up before jumping into some first person shooters.
You’d reached out to cancel once you saw the stress tugging at Seokjin’s face, his jaw set, his brow constantly furrowed. While the other streamers were completely understanding, you still have a ton of notifications from your social channels asking if you are okay and some texts from Wonwoo and a few other friends asking the same.
You’ll fill them in later. But now, you have to face Seokjin.
He’s sitting at a freshly wiped-down table, counting the drawers and preparing the deposit slip.
He ushers you over and gestures at the stack of cash, silently asking you to verify his numbers. You comply, the room silent less the shuffling of bills or coins under your fingertips and your habitual mouthing of the numbers to ensure you don’t lose count.
He nods at your final calculation, jotting the number down on the sheet and placing the bills together. You turn and begin to head back to the kitchen.
“Wait,” he says, and you freeze.
Your stomach is quickly turning into a bundle of knots. You suck your lips into your mouth as you spin back around, Seokjin’s eyes meeting yours.
“I…” Seokjin takes a deep breath before continuing. “Listen. I’m really sorry about this morning. Today’s just been a whole mess and I really shouldn’t have been airing my frustrations to an employee like that. It was inappropriate and immature. I know better than to behave this way.”
Did you say your stomach was in knots? You mean it’s filled with heavy, sickening lead. “Oh, right. Uh, don’t. I mean, I started it. I just…you were panicking and I didn’t know what to do and I thought maybe this would help.”
Seokjin’s brow furrows, a frown on his face. “Why are you apologizing when I’m clearly the one in the wrong here? Ah, no let me finish! I’ve always prided myself on my professionalism and ability to keep personal matters out of my work. And I failed in doing so, which takes advantage of you since I’m your superior. You not only felt a need to comfort me but also stop me from spinning out. I’m truly sorry Y/N, about the oversharing and the um, kiss. I definitely gave into my emotions in a moment of weakness. Please forgive me, I promise I will never touch you again. This won’t happen again.”
His head droops and he looks down, clearly ashamed.
Oh. So he doesn’t want this. Which, why would he? He’s right in that he’s your boss, and clearly Seokjin values his reputation and his job because they’re a reflection of not just him, but his family. Why risk that with someone like you?
You swallow the lump in your throat along with any response. There is the boundary, you know better than to cross it.
As you move again, Seokjin rises from the table. “Y/N…you know what? You go home. The storm is really coming down.”
“But, there’s still mopping and all those dishes left,” you croak. Your voice is so hoarse from being dehydrated and talking all day that you barely recognize it as your own.
“Don’t worry about those. You look and sound exhausted. It’s not your job to take care of everything. Go home, enjoy your romantic snowy trek,” he smirks, “and get some much needed rest. You’ve more than earned it.”
When you arrive home, your body slugs onto your bed, finally giving into the fatigue you’ve ignored all day. Your feet ache, your stomach now settled enough from your walk that you are starving. And you smell awful.
As much as you want to fall asleep, you know that you at the very least need to eat something.
With a groan, you rise, hobbling to your kitchen to make some instant ramyeon. The collab stream is now over, you learned this while finally checking your phone on your way home and seeing a thank you message blasted out by one of the streamers. Oh well.
You suppose you could get back to your book, see what Prince August and his lover are getting up to in their reunion, but that seems like more brain power than you’re willing to give.
You elect to eat, then take a shower, rinsing the grime of the day off you. When you step out of the shower, you see an ugly looking bump and purple bruise on your forehead.
That’s right, you’d already forgotten about your injury from earlier. You touch it lightly and recoil from the sharp pain. Damn, maybe you should’ve checked to see if you were concussed earlier. You didn’t realize you hit your head that hard.
You decide to ice it before bed, crawling under your covers and trying to rest while you play back your day.
How you started is so significantly different from where you are now. When you woke up, you were eager and excited to be around Seokjin, to learn new skills and feel light and warm in his presence. Now, the idea of going back to work in a few days, to have to muddle through the rejection you got tonight and try to get back to a baseline makes you feel nauseous.
Seokjin wants to make this all water under the bridge, and you want to do that for him. But it’s nearly impossible when he’s, well, him. He doesn’t understand how much more difficult it’s going to be to look at him because you’re not walking around with a face like that: perfectly balanced and delicate features and a full, delicious set of lips.
God, he really did taste fantastic. You wonder what would’ve happened if you two weren’t interrupted. Would giving into his emotional need for comfort have given you more? You know it’s wrong to think about, because you're the one who took advantage of him, not the other way around.
He can say he took advantage of you with his power imbalance or whatever, but you’re the one who was seconds away from licking down that thick neck or grinding back onto that massive cock.
Fuck, that’s right, Seokjin is huge under all those clothes and your ass got to experience rubbing against it today. And maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but he seemed like he was a little hard.
If Mino and the others had been just a little later, you might have seen it. They might have walked in on you on your knees as you choked on it, Seokjin’s moans and whines echoing in the kitchen.
Because now from kissing him, you got a taste of those little noises he makes. And the memory has you becoming slick and needy.
It’s late. Too late to read your smutty book, especially since you’re not at the next smutty scene yet. August and his beloved are just reuniting. You’re sure it’s bound to be good, but you don’t have that kind of patience right now. You need to cum, to get your ideas about Seokjin and what he firmly set as a boundary out of your head once and for all.
Which means you need to give your fantasy of him out of your head too. You shove the ice pack you’ve been holding to your head aside, ready to relieve some tension.
You reach under your shirt and gasp when the chill of your icy hand plucks at one of your nipples. Yes, you need more of this.
You touch the other one with your other hand, disappointed that it’s warm. And then you get a fantastic idea. You grope around for a moment until you feel the cold cloth housing the ice cubes from your freezer and pluck one out. It melts quickly in your hand, but the cold water is stimulating as you feel it run down your forearms, a droplet or two rushing down and reaching the heat of your armpit. You pull the large shirt you use as pajamas up further with your other hand, fully exposing your chest and stomach to the chilly air of your apartment.
The ice cube drips over your navel. You hiss as the new sensation floods your core with warmth. Some of the water pools in your belly button, a satisfying dampness taking over your body. Then, you drip the melting ice cube onto each nipple and relish how erect and sensitive they’ve become from your arousal.
Your breasts are plush, something you love to grab and tug as you play with yourself. They’re heavy, the weight of gravity tugging them down instead of staying up as porn once made you believe was possible.
You can understand why people sometimes get caught up playing with tits all the time. They’re arguably fun to play with.
As the ice cube warms and shrinks, you become more curious, taking it between your fingers and swirling it directly over each nipple, a shock of cold hitting them and your hips bucking in pleasure. More. Whatever you’re feeling right now, you need more of it.
You rip your sleep shorts and panties off in desperation, splaying your legs open and aiming yourself up so the last drips of the ice cube can fall directly onto the folds of your pussy, a few dribbles landing right on your aching clit.
Heat, that’s what you actually feel. Fire and ice swirling together in a decadent and hot pleasure. You reach over and grab another cube, this time skipping the teasing and touching the ice right to your clit. It’s a lot. Too much. Not enough. The pain shooting through your clit is also full of so much pleasure and you don’t want to stop.
You rock against your hand, rubbing your clit with your fingers as the ice melts, mixing the wetness of the water with your own, getting you messier, hotter, hungrier.
The memory of Seokjin holding the ice pack flits through your head, how cold his one hand was as it held yours, similar to the chill of your own hand as you grind it against your pussy. You need something inside of you. Now.
And unfortunately for you, all your toys are currently dirty. When you finished streaming last night, you made good on your promise to fuck yourself until you passed out, which means your collection of dildos and vibrators are now discarded in a pile next to your bed that you’d intended to wash after work today.
You insert a finger and sigh. It’s not enough. The angle is too awkward and you can’t get far enough in. Seokjin’s hands are much larger than yours, capable of pumping his long fingers deep within you, to get to the part of your core that is aching. If he were here right now, he could be itching that scratch, a smug look on his face as he comments on how soaking wet you are for him and commands you to cum.
Ugh. You said you wouldn’t think of him, yet here he is again, stirring up inside your fantasies. You can’t give in, you need to distract yourself, look at another face so you can feel motivation.
You remove your fingers, wipe them on the damp washcloth next to you, and reach over on your side table for your laptop.
You don’t watch a lot of porn, finding the videos often too fake, but you’re desperate. You scroll through the website, quickly losing some of your arousal as you click through pages of straight porn, the ones you know that will have some awful plot, or the woman has some nasal and fake moan that kills your buzz. Or the guys are so ugly, proving that porn always has the male gaze in mind.
You just need to cum. Today has been awful enough, and knowing you have to stream tomorrow again is already causing you to wind up. No, this is necessary stress relief. An unwinding. Make it dirty and to the point.
You click over into the other categories. You need just a man, someone else who isn’t Seokjin. You hover over the male masturbation tag, still disappointed. Then you see a banner ad for a camming site: Worldwide Handsome, Hunks From Around the Globe. That, you think, seems more promising.
Live cams are interactive, more with immediacy. Usually the guys on them are hot or gay or both and just ready to jack off for money and give in to some dirty talk. Even the gay camboys don’t always care if women are viewing. Money is money.
You click the banner, praying this doesn’t immediately give your computer a hundred viruses that will delete all your coursework you’ve saved to the harddrive.
Luckily, it’s a legitimate website, much like OnlyFans, just with the emphasis on queer men from every country. You might just be saved.
There are so many categories to choose from: couples, kinks, trans, bisexual, furries, just chatting, BDSM, interactive games, private rooms. It’s a little overwhelming. You select the “solo” tab, which, of course, has the most videos under it, and begin exploring.
You click on one that seems promising, but quickly exit out because the user has fallen asleep and it feels too intimate.
In another, the streamer is yelling at his chat for outting him to his parents, and you exit out of that as well.
You’re about to give up when you refresh the page, but then a recently started stream catches your eye. It’s quickly gaining views, and has a little “1” next to it, probably to indicate that this streamer is the most popular one in his category.
The title for the stream is Unwind with me. Late night play with Daddy which makes your core throb a little with promise. The thumbnail is black, which is a little odd, but you’re curious who this “Daddy” is and how he plans on helping his viewers unwind. Because that is exactly what you need. In his associated tags, there’s a tiny banner at the bottom that urges you forward “all genders welcome”.
You click the link, and the video itself is black, but there’s still hundreds of comments fluttering through the chat. Is your stream broken? This sometimes happens when you stream too, but after a quick refresh you realize that the screen isn’t black. There’s a little bit of light pouring through whatever is covering the camera, detecting some movement through the veil.
“You don’t know how stressed I am today,” a low voice groans.
Whoa. You lean closer, tapping the volume button on your laptop to the max and leaning back. God, whoever this guy is, he sounds hot. This might actually work to get you off and get over Seokjin.
You balance your laptop on your knees and roll your hand down your stomach and between your legs, finding your aching clit and sighing as you delight in your touch.
“I know we don’t always play games like this baby. I know you usually like it when I beg. But I can’t play like that today. It’s been so long since I got to fall back into what I desperately, absolutely need.”
His voice is so seductive yet also comforting in a way that’s familiar. You feel more of your arousal dripping out of you, and you scoop it up to swirl it around your clit, feeling a little twinge of that white hot pleasure return to you.
“And what I need is to take the edge off, to remind all of you who is in charge. Some of you have been very, very bad lately. Haven’t I given you enough? A two-year anniversary stream? I gave you all my cum didn’t I? All of it.”
The chat is going nuts, comments replying with “yes Daddy” accompanying tips that vary from twenty bucks to one thousand dollars spilling in. You check his timestamp. He’s only been live for five minutes and he’s already getting this much? Even your most successful streams take hours to reach a little over a thousand after royalty cuts.
To his credit, though, if you had a grand to drop on him, you just might, and that’s going by his sexy voice alone.
“I let you watch me spill from my cock, let you see me touch myself. And you were greedy. Don’t think I don’t know what you did. I saw your questioning comments, trying to shame me for muttering someone’s name in pleasure. But I’m not ashamed. I’m proud.”
Fuck, what you would do to have this guy moan your name. You feel your orgasm approaching and rub yourself harder, a soft squelch echoing through your room.
“You took what I gave you for granted, you fucking whores. And now, you need to be punished.”
You’re so close, the little peaks of pleasure starting to build up higher in intensity.
The mystery man stops talking, and you along with the chat, begging for more.
“Please,” you moan at your screen.
Suddenly, you hear it, a wet, slick sound. Fuck, is he touching himself?
“It’s been a long day. All day, I was working and I was so horny because some people in this world can’t stop fucking teasing me, tempting me to punish them, just like you.”
You feel the tremor of your first orgasm, but it’s not as sharp, more like a hint of what is to come. You pinch your clit between your fingers, sighing a little bit at the relief of pressure.
“You’ve all been very bad. And until you show me you can be good, I’m going to pump my cock and not let any of you see. You think you can do that? You think you can be my good little subs and prove to me you’ll behave?”
Oh god. Fuck. He’s insane, he’s so hot and insane, and you’re also insane, nodding along. The condescension is so hot, and it reminds you of earlier in the kitchen, when Seokjin scolded you for not being safe with the knife. His voice got rough just like this guy. And it makes you feel so needy and desperate.
Please, you beg silently, just like how you did this morning. I’ll do anything.
Almost as if he knows this, you hear a moan carry through your speakers. You assume he’s reading the comments and tips with promises to behave. You clench around nothing, really wishing at least one of your toys was clean for you to use to feel less empty. You’re never falling asleep without washing them again.
“Good, that’s what I like to see. Now remember, you don’t get to cum until I get to cum. Go ahead and play with yourself for me, get yourself all worked up. And then be good and listen. I’ll tell you what to do next.”
Whoops. Well, the first one didn’t count. You aren’t satisfied.
He groans, signaling that he’s stroking himself again, rough jerks you can hear from the way his hands are sliding over his (you assume) lubed cock.
“You want to see me cum? You want to earn it all over you? You know what you have to do, my pretty little subs. Work for it. And not a penny less.”
In a frenzy, the tip jar continues to buzz in the bottom corner, the graphic of coins depositing into it glitching out a bit as it fails to keep up with the volume of tips. While he’s the most popular streamer on this site, it’s not as though the website is the only one of its kind, and that means that his couple hundred viewers are putting in the work and the cash.
You watch the numbers rise next to the tip jar as his subs showcase their double entendre: both his subscriber count soars and his comments flood with loyal submissives.
Please, Daddy. Please let me cum.
I’m sorry Daddy. I’ll be good, I swear.
Remove the blindfold please! I need to see your big cock!
Ah, it’s a blindfold. Of course.
The graphic of the jar changes, exploding and sending animated dollars and coins across the screen. This is wild. His viewers have already met the milestone. They’ve just raised ten grand in less than 15 minutes. That has to be some kind of record.
He tuts and the sound of it punches your gut. Why does he sound so familiar? “Tsk, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I knew you could do it. You want my forgiveness that badly, huh? Okay, I’ll give you what you need. I’ll forgive you.”
Your pussy is throbbing. You’ve had to scale back the touching, feeling a weird sense of obedience to this camboy that you can’t describe.
There’s a ruffling sound and the camera jolts before light pours into view, a blur of shapes and colors you can’t make out greeting you until it comes into focus and you’re met with a massive, leaking cock.
“Holy shit,” you moan, finding your footing on your bed and moving your resting hand from your inner thigh back to your clit.
The camera is framed from the user’s toned abs down to just the top of his thighs, showing off his heavy, tight balls and red, angry tip.
“Is this what you’re begging for?”
Yes, you shudder a breath. Yes.
Large hands with long knobby fingers run along his thighs, one sweeping under to cup his balls while the other works his shaft, thumb sliding over his slit to rub precum around the tip.
“Alright, then.” He begins pumping, smooth, tight jerks that have him squeezing his length and encouraging more strands of precum to leak out. He falls into a steady rhythm and you mirror the pace on your clit, gasping for breaths as you become all the more sensitive now that you have a visual to follow.
“My face? Oh, no. You didn’t earn the right to see that. Don’t start with me. If you want to see my face when I cum, you have to reach the next milestone. You know the rules.”
You don’t know the rules, but you hope someone else will be desperate enough to reach it for you. You’re dying to know what he looks like.
Almost instantly, the money animation explodes on the screen again. A $5000 tip. Jesus Christ.
“Ah, of course mapl3stor33, I should’ve known it was you. Always so good to me. Because of you I got to get that new collector figurine. Thank you. Well everyone, because of mapl3’s generosity and mmm…loyalty…fuck. I guess I’ll let you get your full fantasy. Let you see my face as you imagine you get to make a mess of me, milk my fucking cock all over you and let me make a mess of you.” He’s moaning as he speaks, pausing between sentences to pump himself harder as he gives “Maple” a proper shout out.
Your cheeks heat in embarrassment. It’s one thing for you to create the fantasy, but him acknowledging it with some judgment, as though you’re not good enough to even fantasize about him, it’s leading you quicker to your undoing.
His pace builds to a heavy, slick rut. His hands are slightly red, almost like how yours looked after washing the dishes before Seokjin kicked you out.
Wait. Red hands. His look similar to Seokjin’s, with the same knobby long fingers. And the figurine and Maple…like, MapleStory?
There’s no way. No, you’re clearly just losing it with your fantasies. This one is taking it too far.
“Fuck, yeah that’s it baby. Touch yourself. Be good for me. Where do you want my cum? Oh, you dirty slut, fuck, yes. Okay, I’ll cum all over myself. Just for you. Shit. Almost, come on.”
Your fingers are still following his lead, unable to stop, so close to finishing, to the release.
He moans, his hands blurring as he strokes fast and hard, jerking into himself. And that’s when you know. You heard that moan. You caused that moan.
With a final solid, slightly whiny grunt, he backs up. His face coming into frame, and the first strands of thick white release cascades across Seokjin’s chest as you focus in on the pure bliss washing over him, his head thrown back and mouth shaped into a delicious “o”.
“Oh, fuck. Take it, take my cum. Yes, that’s it. That’s my best girl, so good for me. Such a good girl.”
The second you hear the praising fall from Seokjin’s mouth, he takes you over the edge with him. Your body rockets into your orgasm with a heavy clench of your core, feet losing their solid hold below you as you begin to shake and succumb to the feeling.
You’ve unwound, the tension of your body unfurling as you’re cast out to sea, your body bobbing along each wave with a newfound euphoria. Out here on the water, the world is silent except the ring in your ears. You bask in the peaceful ebb until you feel a tingling in your fingertips and toes calling you back, forcing breath back into your lungs with a heavy pant.
Once you recenter, you gaze back at the stream, confirming that this is the smiling and grateful Seokjin you just saw three hours ago.
He called you a good girl. He came all over his sweaty chest. And he’s the top streamer on a gay sex cam site.
©2024 by jooniperbonsai
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what if i wanted to make another insane promo post?
yeah, ik, its promo time again. BUT this time around i do wanna add in the post both my cousin and niece
one thing i did get wrong, heartz is my niece, starz is my cousin! this will basically be going over what each of these 2 do (...and im also adding in a bonus competitor/promoed person, well actually 2 because I GOT A CHANNEL YIPPEE)
each channel will be seperated up so yeah lets go!
first channel:
Starzzz.andgalaxy (my actual cousin, lol) is a great yter who absolutely deserves to be celebrating more then just 170 subs! since shes actually here with me, i can let her say a lil something on the matter:
"hello! I would love to reach 200 subscribers at least, I think my hard work should not be for nothing!" <- her typing
shes very very fun (and also with this i hope all the god damn hate comments shut lol) and does very cool things such as:
Roblox videos
(comment is from me lol, we'll get there soon) For right now these are just rating videos of her avatar, but I find them very fun (plus since I play roblox if needed I can help with filming lol)! Not much to say on it cause it's not a common kind of post, so onto the next form, which is:
2. Art
As you can see, she does very cool art, this one in particular is a tutorial on how to draw bodies. Is it the best? No, but the fact she's trying makes it great! (this is also where I've seen a couple hate comments come up, so yeah, I'm trying to be mature enough to not commit violence for her upon them) She does admit this video isn't her best work, but she does A LOT of very very cool drawings! Go check them out and her channel of course! There is one thing she also posts about which I love most of all...
3. Paper Dragons!!
(the first image is her first dragon, second is her most recent i think) I don't get how these things are "paper furries", but I do know THEY ARE SICK AS FUCK. I got to see one in person and they're very cool, all with different stories! I honestly wanna ask for one but right now, I'm gonna stick with watching them.
Channel link can be found here:
(this section was finished on january first of 2024, so at the point of this being posted she wont be over here, but i had her here so yeah :D i love my cousin)
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Second channel:
Heartzzz.❤️ is my niece, and she does similar content, but still does good content! A couple of videos of Starz and Heartz are them promoting each other, so yeah. While she is on vacation and can't be here to give her reasons to subscribe to you, I certainly can!
Memes
One thing I forgot to mention my cousin doing (well, actually my cousin's section is just kinda old because it's from when she last came over, but she's back to help me again, yay!) is making memes like this. Sometimes they do involve a paper dragon, but I think they're pretty funny and/or relatable (also dragons very cool)!
2. Edits (and Undertale related things)
I'm putting these 2 in the same category just because of the example image above. While my cousin has recently started doing edits, Heartz is the only 1 of the 2 to make anything Undertale related. While the Undertale stuff comes once every blue moon it seems, that doesn't make it any less enjoyable.
I actually found in her description a run down on what she does post, so here:
Link to her channel can be found right here:
(okay ik this section was really short, again, she posts similar things to my cousin, and i didnt wanna repeat, so yeah, if you want more reason, here's what the cousin herself says: "[Heartz] is really nice, she's a good artist, and she's creative"; time i finished this section was 1/15/2024 lol)
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third channel:
Boli and gang (or as their original user is + the profile picture says, Boli the bear) is the channel belonging to 2 kids I babysit! They're pretty new to making content, but they have a promising start already! Currently, their content consists of...
Animations
One of them has really been getting into animation, posting things like ball loops and such on their account. They're very interesting to watch personally!
2. Cool places
I'm not sure if this is going to be a common theme, but there is around 3-4 videos of places like this one. I have to admit, this has to be the prettiest of them all.
3. Art (+FNAF/Five Nights at Freddy's Content)
This is another one grouped together, but because this is the first drawing related one I've seen. They're very big FNAF fans, of course leading to things like this. Is it the best? No, but they tried very hard of course, and maybe you could leave some tips for them to improve with!
(they also post memes and funny videos, but I'd rather not do repetition; FINISHED THIS ALSO ON THE 15TH LETS GOOOOOOO)
Link to their channel can be found here:
Oh, one final reason, their profile picture is super cool! Can you guess who made it? This actually provides me with the perfect transition into...
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fourth/final channel:
ITS ME!!! FINALLY I CAN STOP DOING PROPER ASS TYPING
yeah, i have a youtube now, and there's like nothing on it minus a couple videos. all of them are made back in like 2021-2022? cant really remember, but i posted them for younger me's sake. i have like a couple more to get through, but afterwards im probs gonna do a bigger variety of content! art videos, jrwi edits, animations, rambles, essays, you name it! (might even stream again on twitch if that seems what the people like lol)
you may want actual reasons to subscribe, but i currently dont have any. i can only make promises of better future content, but right now i can admit theyre shit. i dont post often, its only oc related rn, all very vague, nothing that interests most people on my blog (cause i know a lot of you are here for jrwi content, huh?). this channel, the choice to subscribe is fully up to you, im not gonna sell myself to it, im simply just saying its real.
Link to the channel is found here:
if you at all took the time to read through my part, i appreciate it, but please do actually check out the other 3. after all, you can always find me here, but you cant find the others anywhere else!
(FINISHED THE REST OF THE POST ON 1/15/24 LETS GOOOOOOOOO)
#chilling in solar lights#cheri's art findings#not my usual content#silli promo#dragon puppet#animator#support the artist#digital art#digital artist#digital artwork#digital drawing#puppeteer#just like a cool rock#idk how to tag this#just go check them out please#epic artist#silly billy goose#this will be spam reblogged someday soon#and that will be in this week#be ready guys lol#seperators may look weird#ignore it please
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fellow kayn appreciator hi!!!! love how you write him :D could i please request platonic headcanons or like. general thoughts on how kayn would be as a friend to a gn!reader? whether they're also a performer or not is up to you but specifically they'd have met before kayn joined heartsteel. thank you and i hope life treats you kindly!! 💕
Platonic Kayn HCs
Reader is a performer, Pre-Heartsteel
(( I don’t think you guys actually know what you do to me whenever you compliment the way I write Kayn it has me doing the Markiplier “yippee! wahoo!! yeeee!!” )) ~ OBBY 💗
Being friends with Kayn includes lots of text messages from him. Sometimes you two text each other for hours, other times he has to run cause he’s busy. If you text him before he does after he says he has to do something, you’ll probably be speaking to Rhaast. There’s a 50/50 chance that he’ll stay and chat for a while or he’ll say he can’t chat cause he’s still working.
Sometimes he doesn’t get back to you for a few days. If you’re lucky, he’ll message you within hours. If it is taking him a few days, there’s a good chance you may need to check up on him. Sometimes he loses himself when he’s too focused on working.
On some nights, you two video call on Discord while you’re both working. You may or may not end up getting sidetracked by playing a video game together. FPS, horror, or survival horror. So games like Left 4 Dead, Dying Light, Lethal Company, and even Halo are up there. As long as there’s co-op, you’ll be playing. Sometimes, one of you will share your screen so the other can watch. Games like The Mortuary Assistant, Resident Evil, Alien: Isolation, and Outlast are pretty good.
Going to each other’s concerts isn’t always a guarantee, but both of you try. Not to mention, the paparazzi will be annoying to deal with once people start to realize one of you is at the other’s concert.
Kayn’s not against introducing you to Akali. There’s a good chance she’s heard of you and probably listens to some of your works, so it’s a win. And so, you, Kayn, and Akali are all in a group chat where you just kinda laugh at some hate comments each of you get. It’s especially funny when the thread just keeps going with people arguing. It’s very tempting to go and leave a comment in the argument just to see how it’d go, especially since Kayn would actually try to get you and Akali to say something. Luckily neither of you actually did it. Imagine the articles and posts on social media that would be made about it…
Since this is before Kayn joined Heartsteel, Kayn does sometimes send you some of his works. You know, the ones that were never made public. He knows you accept both him and Rhaast, so think of it as his appreciation for it. Sometimes Rhaast sends ones that Kayn didn’t send yet, but in return, he wants a sneak peek at one of your own.
On that topic, you’ve kept up to date with what his old band has been up to, both before and after he was no longer a part of it. It wasn’t on purpose, it just shows up on your recommended time to time. There was some discourse, and then after Kayn was no longer there, things seemed to take a bit of a turn for the worst for both him and the band. The band was struggling and Kayn’s reputation crashed. Him not releasing his songs to the public didn’t help, but he had his reasons for that. You were in no position to pry, so all you can really do is continue supporting him.
The idea for a collab was always up there even if you’re running solo or not, but it never actually happens because Kayn and Rhaast always have drafts piled up. Rhaast just thinks it’d be pretty fun to do. But seriously, they do need to finish up their own works. A collab is the last thing he needs to add to his list right now.
Sometimes invites you to liven up an alley he found, or a wall in an abandoned building. If you have an idea for his idea, say it. He knows if you’ve got something in mind anyway, so it’d be better to just say it because he’d pester you about it. You’ll probably even notice he brings a little sketchbook sometimes. Also, those spray paints were totally not Akali’s. If you have paint as well, he’ll be taking those too. If you find some missing, you know who to interrogate. Don’t expect him to admit it though.
If you’re the one inviting him, he doesn’t mind if he just watches or pitches in an idea or two. Knowing him, he won’t always just sit and watch. He also doesn’t want you holding back on your artistic ability, so please, go all out and experiment if you have to. Not giving it your all, especially in front of him, is almost insulting to him.
Do you guys get caught? Maybe sometimes. The chase is always fun though. Well, maybe not all the time, but you can still look back at the memory and laugh a bit.
Kayn has one or two of your songs in his little private playlist. Will he ever tell you? Nope.
Sometimes the media goes overboard with your relationship with him. It’d be nice to debunk all of their theories and speculations, but Kayn insisted you let them go at it cause it’s funny. Admittedly, it was. Every small thing was “a hint.” There are some that take some “signs” differently and start wars between both of your fans. Still rather entertaining, but it did feel more concerning. Some fans can be pretty crazy. Usually, those little wars fix themselves within a few weeks if you’re lucky. Maybe months.
If it does come to it, Kayn won’t stop you from posting something in response to hopefully calm things down. Hell, he might even make a post himself. His wording might be a bit aggressive though.
#heartsteel#obby’s scripts!#i feel like some of this is suggesting they like each other 🧍#also sorry if it’s kinda shorter than how much i usually type#league of legends#league of legends heartsteel#heartsteel kayn#lol kayn#shieda kayn#kayn x reader#kayn#league of legends x reader#league of legends rhaast#rhaast
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I'm really torn on Brandon's video because that's his style of humor. To be offensive and off the wall without actually meaning to be hurtful. It's what I like him and most of his content.
But no matter how you slice it, calling a 17 year old girl who legitimately wants her father's love a "slut" because "she hates me" and "cockblocks me from Stolas", as well as "her name should be cockblocktavia" is uhhh... very telling and inappropriate. Those words shouldn't go anywhere near a minor. Even for Brandon. Not to mention thinking of children like that is a very real thing and it's gross.
He even said he "kins Blitz" and that "I think Blitz would hate her, but that's up to Viv." It's kinda troubling that he said a fictional character hates *him*. I know he led into the Brennan Ragers thing, but that was an accident in the context of the show and meant to he a funny jab at Brandon? I have author friends who have been killed horrificly in books, and it's never a jab, it's all in good fun. Which is how I interpreted that scene.
In other interviews where he's being completely serious, he mentions multiple times relating heavily to Blitz... so that's why part of me thinks he's being serious here.
I know Via is fictional, but if this fanbase starts hating a CHILD because of these reasons....... yeah, no. I don't want to start seeing people calling her a "slut" or something because she "gets in the way of their love" or some dumb bullshit.
I uhm... like Brandon a bit less now. Seems that SH really corrupts or enables the worst in people who stay there long.
Also, fuck it. I'm stealing Via and Stella and they'll have a loving relationship and Stolas can be alone to fuck Blitz since that's what Viv and her fanbase clearly want.
They really hate women, huh?
Yeah, I feel like in the best scenario, the absolute most generous scenario, he didn't mean a word of it and it wasn't that deep. I'm not sure that's what's going on, honestly, but assume it is. In that case, this is absolutely going to throw gasoline on a problem that's been creeping up for a while, which is this fandom's misogyny turning around and villainizing a troubled teenage girl.
A lot of these people want an excuse to be misogynistic, to trash female characters just for existing, and Viv and Brandon hand it to them on a silver platter.
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[ID: on the left is Skips the Yeti man, on the right is rigby the talking raccoon. /end ID]
Original poll with info for skips
Original poll with info for rigby
Master post link
A few things I forgot to mention plus scenarios below:
Skips:
-very wise, very powerful
-very level headed, takes a great deal to provoke him as a friend
--notable exception to this is cheating at arm wrestling. He straight up killed Rigby once over this
--had to beat Death in an arm wrestling contest to get him back
-often shipped with benson, which is really cute and I get it, but I also think he and Gary would make great exes back to lovers type deal
Here's what I think would have happened last week if you want to read that:
You and Skips got high together last week; it took a bit of convincing him to at least stop working for a little bit and take a break from working all the time. It took no convincing him to try a bit of weed because he read in Wizards Monthly, a magazine he recently subscribed to since the likelihood of being attacked by something magical in the park is actually pretty likely, that it could help him get in better touch with nature.
And it really did.
Because you both went exploring an ancient lost civilization while stoned out of your minds.
Rigby:
-used to shirk work, doesn't eo much anymore. To the point he once covered for mordecai for like a long ass time.
-very very good at Bank Shot, a trickshot basketball arcade game that scores your point based on throw performance.
--threw the ball so well it left to find a romantic partner, succeeded, and came back a changed basketball.
-very prone to munchies
-very disorganized, sleeps on a pile of clothes on top a trampoline for 90% of the show until the last season where suddenly the forgot how important that trampoline is to him. Seriously why? I guess you could call it part of his character growth in some way but like this is such like an autism special spot thing that it feels weird. Yes I hc him as autistic.
-anyways, also in an alternate timeline he helped fight in the resistance against an evil mordecai who was working with their old gym teacher to destroy the fabric of time itself. And eventually dies in front of current rigby. Rigby is so used to weird shit happening this has no serious long term affect on him.
Here's what I think would have happened last week if you want to read that:
Mordecai went out of town for the weekend with his new girlfriend, the mysterious bat lady, Stef, he just started seeing last week. Eileen is on a brief trip across country for her new job. Rigby is bored as shit at The House, and literally calls you up and invites you over for a smoke sesh.
You arrive, bringing your own snacks, and a bit of hash knowing the last time you hung out he had neither at the time and thats why he invited you but it was a fun enough time that going back wouldn't be such a bad thing.
Following Rigby up the stairs, he gets to his room first (go figure, he was running on all fours) and are suddenly greeted by an intense cloud of thc. Assuming you aren't allergic to weed, and you don't die immediately, you go inside the cloud into what you think is Rigby's room where you find unopened tiny bags of chips all over the room and so much hash.
One of the perks of having a super successful wife, probably.
Apparently Rigbys been smoking a lot more weed lately. You both smoke and play video games together the rest of the night.
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Proship culture is being annoyed at how antis always try to dictate what someone is allowed to do or not in fiction..
"Uhmmmmm, you're not allowed to enjoy that in fiction because [insert any reason]."
I find something very concerning here, and it's antis using the words "you CAN/CANNOT."
And I ask them: who are you to police what others do with their imagination and freedom of speech? Now that’s something antis actually can’t do because, the very moment they attempt to dictate what someone can or can’t create in fiction, they’re contradicting the very concept of freedom.
You know where there are actual laws policing what people think, say, or do as art? Totalitarian dictatorships, like communist countries such as North Korea. Having freedom of speech means people are free to think and say whatever they want, as long as they don’t break any law.
I’ve been an OC creator since I was 6 or 7 years old. And I’ve been a WWII OC creator since I was 13. I currently have a bunch of WWII OCs. These OCs include Nazis, Soviets, and even more controversial characters. Of course, I don’t support Nazis or communists. And of course, I don’t condone WWII. The reason I have these WWII OCs is because I like history. And it’s genuinely funny to me when antis come up to me and say I’m not allowed to make WWII OCs. Antis always say, “Making Nazi OCs makes you a Nazi!” They also talk about how fiction genuinely harms people.
Any type of fiction such as books, games, shows, ect, do not harm people. You know who used to think books harmed people? The people of Nazi Germany. Those who worshipped Hitler. Yes, that’s correct. The people that antis are comparing me to are the ones who believed what antis believe and try to force others to follow: the idea that fiction harms people. The Nazis genuinely thought fiction (books, in their context) harmed people, so they decided to burn them because they didn’t agree with them.
As a person born and living in Austria, it’s incredibly insensitive and disturbing to be called a Nazi, especially considering Hitler was Austrian too. Not to mention how incredibly dangerous it is to water down the meanings of words. I don’t condone Hitler’s actions or support his ideology; therefore, I am not a Nazi. I’m just an OC creator who finds WWII history interesting.
I’ve had people telling me that my OCs are illegal because Nazi topics are taboo in Austria. And as someone who actually lives in Austria and meets Austrians every day: They’re not. My OCs would be considered illegal if they portrayed Hitler or Nazis in a positive light, which they do not. My Nazi OCs are portrayed as villains. They are portrayed as the bad people. Therefore, my OCs are not illegal. I’ve talked to Austrian adults who are educated about this topic. They all agreed my OCs are fine as long as they don’t romanticize or glorify Nazis - which, again, they do not. If non-glorified Nazi-themed fiction were really illegal in Austria, I wouldn’t be able to watch shows with Nazi characters on TV. All books containing Nazi characters would be banned. All the video games with Nazi tanks and planes would be illegal to play. Guess what? They’re not. Because it’s fiction.
To the antis seeing this: be not so quick to dispense judgment about who can or can’t do things. You may not want to find yourself, in the near future, with fingers pointed at you simply because you told people to stop enjoying something just because you don’t like it. Also, stop harassing people. Their fiction didn’t do anything to you. You just can’t handle people having harmless fun.
I’m sorry for the long text. It’s just that, as an autistic OC creator with a special interest in WWII, it’s sickening to me that I get called a Nazi for simply having fun with my fictional characters. I’m just so tired of antis dictating what others can and cannot do. I genuinely appreciate everyone who took the time to read this.
☆
#don't worry abt sending in long anons this is a place for ppl to talk <3#proship culture is...#op is a proshipper#proshipper safe#proshippers are valid#proshippers please interact#proship
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Anthony Po's video is worse than you thought
youtube
This video actually looks at and breaks down Anthony Po's infamous video in deep detail and wow is it worse than JUST recording sexual activities without consent.
Starts with revealing that Anthony made a fake "furry identity" where his idea of what a furry is was a raging classist, sexist, ableist fatophobe who was very much a "annoying autistic" caricature from 2000s "humor".
He also decided it was a funny joke to make said fake furry influencer a registered sex offender and zoophile ("joking" about how he wasn't allowed near schools and making a whole TikTok where the "joke" was him stalking a man because he wanted to assault his dog)
Probably Used AI generated images for the "art" he had of his fake character
Bought an incredibly affordable for what it was pre-made fursuit and just spent the whole video talking trash on it and the maker and artist of it
Talked zero about any art or artists he "used". In fact, he didn't speak about the art side of furry Fandom AT ALL
The whole video is filled with 2000s Homophobia and not once does he mention the amount of LGBT+ furries or even says the word gay at all, despite the fact the entire goal of the video is violating the privacy of LGBT people and recording their sex acts for sensationalism.
He mentions once how a large part of the Fandom is neurodivergent, but in a way that sounds like "haha, the reason they're all cringe weirdos is because they're mental". Also dips into Homophobia and infantilizing neurodivergent LGBT people
He pretends to join a famous furry news site to get a con press pass, ghosts the news team after one email, uses their badge to get people to let him interview them, takes credit for a feelgood article he didn't write, generally disrespects the new site he took advantage of for their reputation
Speaking of, he interviewed people (again posing as a trusted journalist) but cut out nearly all the interviews about the Fandom because people weren't giving him what he wanted (he wanted to play a scare cord when someone said something sexual but no one did because obviously) so he skips by all of it except the parts he makes fun of for being neurodivergent people
He tries out for the dance competition, solely because he needs a B plot for his video and he thinks it will get him invited to "sex parties", doesn't practice at all, is shocked he doesn't make it, then crashes the competition anyway to utter silence of the crowd and doesn't even watch other dancers and just leaves the con after
Another thing is him constantly conflating "room parties" the sexual thing he treats like a big secret and is looking to film, and any kind of furry event or party whatsoever. So he treats all furry events like they're sex events in editing. Trying to make it seem like there's no divide between sfw and NSFW events
He flat out LIES about Con dealers den policy to make it seem like Kids are gonna see porn because THINK OF THE CHILDREN (LITERALLY AN UNIRONICALLY). Literally lies and says "8 year Olds can just go to the dealers den and buy porn" when in reality you need ID and a badge (which also requires ID) to get into, the dealer who's product they show off having obvious +18 markers on everything
Homophobia looking at obviously gay porn magazines
Passes out tacky "invite me to sex party" business cards, at the end of the video announces he's selling them (at ridiculous prices). Said sales of leftover cards would more than surpass the amount of money he donated to the Trevor project as an "apology". He also made the video a charity video to deflect blame, even though it has generated zero donations other than what he donated and not addressing the actual issues with the video
Asks to be part of Gay group chats planning the parties he is after and is Homophobic and surprised they are gay and talk about sex. Mock people's bodies and nudes and is disgusted by gay sexuality as a joke.
Jokes about how he's gonna be molested/forced by "older predators" when he actually goes to the parties for consensual sex. "Gays are predators/groomers and rapists" Homophobia abound
recording a room party without consent, using the footage to have an animated verison created for his video
Recording a room party with consent for personal private viewing, BUT NOT CONSENT TO BE USED IN A PUBLIC YOUTUBE VIDEO. This is the video he shows in the original video
Pretending to wrap the video up with a feel good message, despite literally everything he did being shit
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Happy Pokémon Day! February 27th is the anniversary of the first two Pokémon games’ release in Japan, and it’s a minor holiday in my house, as a fun excuse to make Pokémon inspired food, watch some Pokémon shows or movies (we’re going to watch Netflix’s new Pokémon Concierge this year!), and get excited about upcoming games and releases. This year, we’re making a Pokémon Sword and Shield inspired burger-steak curry and I’m making a dessert from the Pokémon Cookbook by Victoria Rosenthal. It’s one of my favorite fandom cookbooks – all the recipes are vegetarian or vegan, to get around the awkward question of where does the meat in the Pokémon universe come from?
But that’s not all we’re making! Ever since Nicki and Isabel were released, I’ve been dying to do a post about them and Pokémon’s infamous “Jelly Filled Doughnuts”, better – and more accurately! – known as onigiri.
Pokémon was released in the United States in 1998 via two Gameboy games: Pokémon Red and Pokémon Blue. The games quickly caught on to be one of the biggest pop culture phenomenon of the late 90’s and early 00’s, and as a kid at the heart of this explosion, I can’t overstate how much of a big deal it was. One of the great things about Pokémon – and probably why it has such lasting, widespread appeal – is that there are so many ways to interact with the franchise, and the marketing doesn’t skew hugely towards one gender or the other. Cool, tough Pokémon like Charizard got pretty similar billing to cute, pink Pokémon like Jigglypuff, and there were so many options for potential favorites that it was easy for any kid to find some creature to attach themselves to.
One of my petty complaints with Nicki and Isabel’s collection and books is the almost complete lack of mention of Pokémon and other anime that was really popular among kids in 1999. I know AG probably didn’t want to shell out for licensing deals with Nintendo or The Pokémon Company, but their stories just don’t feel accurate without discussing their prized binder of Pokémon cards or begging their parents to take them to see the Pokémon movie in theaters. Maybe the authors were just a little too old to get caught up in Pokémania?
I’ve also always thought its close overlap with the Beanie Babies crazy helped get millennial children like me very into the “gotta catch ‘em all” aspect of the franchise. Is this why I’m such a crazy toy collector as an adult? Who knows.
The Pokémon anime was one of the main ways kids like me got hooked on the franchise, because not everyone was allowed to have a Gameboy of their own (me), and not everyone liked video games, but even if you didn’t like video games, the cartoon might appeal to you. Although it was far from the first Japanese cartoon to air on US television, Pokémon was one of if not the first truly mainstream favorites of the 1990’s. 4Kids, the company in charge of dubbing the show into English, decided that American kids wouldn’t understand or be open to certain aspects of the show that reflected its Japanese roots, and so made a lot of strange choices in rewriting the script. One of the most notorious was deciding Brock’s rice balls were actually jelly filled doughnuts:
Onigiri – also known as omusubi or nigirimeshi – are balls of rice with a variety of fillings inside. They’re often compared to sandwiches, as an easy, quick, cheap meal or snack that combines carbs and other ingredients. While the concept of taking a rice ball and stuffing it full of other tasty treats goes way back to ancient Japan, the triangle shape became popular in the 1980’s thanks to a new machine that automated the filling process. Further developments over the last 40 years have created unique ways to prepackage onigiri without making the nori wrapping sticky. The ones we made were an attempt at recreating the “Hawaiian” (spam and pineapple) rice balls from our favorite food hall back in DC. One of my favorite pandemic indulgences was getting take out from the food hall, which often included a sampler of some of my favorite onigiri, and I haven’t been able to find anything close to similar where we are now. One of the many reasons I’m excited to move!
Even as a kid, I wasn’t convinced the food in the anime was fried dough with fruit jelly inside, because they sure look like rice. I also think 4Kids didn’t anticipate that Pokémon’s widespread popularity would inspire many of its fans – including me – to become absolutely obsessed with Japanese food and culture. I would’ve been more excited if they’d just been straight with me and shown more Japanese food on the show, and then probably begged my parents to make it or take me to a restaurant that made it. While I can’t confidently cite numbers of how many other people were first exposed to Japanese culture and food through Pokémon and franchises like it, I do think it’s a bit of a missed opportunity to highlight how things like this exposed kids like Nicki and Isabel to parts of a culture outside their own!
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The Papas vs Technology Headcanons
Ask and you shall receive! @ivyanddaisies
Prompt here
Primo
Ok Peepaw has no use for social media or technology. He’s still marvelling at his vintage tube tv, because he’s old and he was around before the tv <3 And he’d literally rather send a raven with a message rather than text. You pushed him to give it a shot, and being the sweet elder goth that he is, he gave it the good old college try just for you. Alas, he grew frustrated easily. He kept having to whip out the reading glasses to read what was on the screen, and he couldn’t tell if that vibrating in his pocket was the iPhone or if he was having a seizure. Not to mention, he accidentally activated Siri on several occasions and he thought the spirit of a demon was speaking to him and apparently telling him the weather forecast. The only thing he really found a use for was the gardening stuff on Pinterest, but he has plenty of books in the library for that anyway. And as for nudes? He has a Polaroid camera for that. Our sweet old man much prefers the feeling of answering calls on his candlestick phone, and he’ll gladly leave the selfie-taking to you ♥︎
Secondo
Alright, Mr. Worldwide tries to be hip and cool, so he definitely owns the latest iPhone. However, he’s had to replace it several times because when he gets frustrated, that thing goes flying across the room. He tried to use the voice dictation one time and his entire text came out hilariously wrong so he threw his phone out of one of the ministry windows. He texts with one finger like an old man, never uses emojis (he calls them hieroglyphics), and he keeps telling you that he wants to “duck your brains out”. He genuinely tries to take selfies, and that can be hit or miss. Sometimes it’s a typical old man selfie where you can see all the way up his nose, but he did execute this fantastic shirtless selfie one time,,, Bone Daddy starts an Instagram where he makes a few adorably lame posts trying to be edgy and dark. But he mainly uses that to post selfies (ones you’ve taken of the both of you) to show you off. He loves when you send him dirty pictures and he’s also found that FaceTime is perfect for some,,, fun activities 👀
Terzo
Oh my god, the biggest social media whore. He’s only two months younger than Secondo, but he’s somehow overcome his oldness and mastered the art of the iPhone. He has an Instagram, where he posts pictures of the two of you on dates or in bed together covered in rose petals and lip prints. Dude even has Snapchat, where he updates his story with some chaotic videos every now and then. He can text with his thumbs, but he does make some really hilarious typos which are exceptionally frustrating when he’s trying to sext with you (this man demands nudes from you constantly). He actually knows what most emojis mean- he will literally text you the eggplant emoji next to everything ����- and only has to ask for your help to decipher some of them. He rubs it in his brothers’ faces as much as he can, calling them old men because they don’t know how to use tech as well as he does. And Secondo finds his use of emojis really irritating because he has no idea what the fuck ‘🤪😝🙃🫠🥴🙄🥸💀’ means
Copia
Oh, Copia. Sweet pitiful Copia. He tries, he really does, but this man has no idea how to use emojis. He types with one finger, makes plenty of typos, and always uses the rat emoji for no apparent reason. Also, he disperses emojis into sentences so his texts always read like this:
Ciao 👋🏻🐀 bella 😚 I am going 🔜 to feed 🧀 my rats 🐀 want to come 😀 with me?🤝🏻
He’s such a dork and you never ever correct him because it’s just too charming. His selfies are often painfully awkward, because he thinks that just staring dead-eyed into the camera and snapping the picture constitutes as a selfie. And he’ll post those on Insta too, sometimes with captions that he got off Pinterest. Or sometimes the captions will be about rats for literally no reason. However, he does make awfully sweet posts about you that have your heart melting when you read them. This sweet man LOVES when you send him naughty pictures and rile him up via text. It gives him a thrill and makes him feel so special. Copia also surprisingly uses Pinterest occasionally, because he finds it relaxing. He’s such a gentle soul, and he enjoys saving things about pet rats, aesthetic things that he’d like to show you later, or even some recipes that the two of you could cook together. However, he doesn’t use Pinterest correctly. He doesn’t pin things, he just screenshots them (because you taught him how to take a screenshot). So even though he isn’t the most religious social media user or the best at working technology, he tries and has a good time ♥︎
#my headcanons#thoughts about copia <3#thoughts about papa <3#copia my beloved#copia is my husband#ghost headcanon#the band ghost headcanons#ghost band headcanons#copia#secondo#papa secondo#terzo#papa terzo#primo#papa primo#popia#copia headcanons#ghost bc headcanons#secondo x reader#primo x reader#terzo x reader#copia x reader#papa i#papa ii#papa iii#papa iv#papa emeritus#popia copia#Cardinal copia#cardinal copia headcanons
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