#and after how far he went and how his life was going

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: Spin-off

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. Update: Sylus went ahead and got himself mortalized (That's it, that's the plot). Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, suggestive language, slight crack (literally. lmao, you’ll see), FLUFF! A/N: Finally starting the spin-off! Hello again 🙂‍↕️🫶🏼 I’ve got a rough outline for the flow and a few key chapters mapped out, but I’m keeping it flexible for the most part. This isn’t gonna be a full structured story, so think more like vignettes of their life, w/ some world-building here and there (laying some groundwork for future chapters hehe). Come thru if you wanna see what error!Sylus and our lil player are up to post-reality jump 🙂‍↕️🙏🏼 Also: no posting schedule! I’m treating this like a chill side project I can pick up whenever, so not every part’s gonna be lengthy/that polished hehe. Mostly short snippets, unless the chapter calls for a longer one. (P.S. Just send a DM if you want to be taken off the taglist lol. I just assumed you guys would still want to follow along, but no pressure at all if you don’t! 💕)

Pt 1

You keep waiting to wake up.

For the sound of your phone alarm to blare somewhere beneath the covers, forcing you to fish it out at seven-thirty-something in the morning. For this absolutely wonderful, absolute mindfuck of a dream, to end—and for the real world to set in. 

For another uneventful day to begin, the way it usually does after a short reprieve from the hustle and the bustle of life.

From behind the bathroom door, the sound of the shower cuts off.

You scramble to open the cupboard overhead, grabbing the pepper shaker from the first shelf. You do four rotations over the half-cooked omelette before flipping it over with a rubber spatula, trying not to lose your cool. Or what’s left of it.

Three days. It’s been three days since Sylus crossed the threshold, through a tiny, impossible fissure in the fabric of reality, just to get to this dimension. Your dimension.

Three days since you locked eyes with the other half of your soul across a room, no screen separating the two of you for once. No physical barrier to stop him from catching you as you ran toward him past the counter, just as twilight kissed the sky goodnight, sobbing at the first touch of his skin—electric against yours. The taste of his lips, the bittersweet notes of extant longing and pure bliss blooming on your tongue as he captured your mouth in his; the two of you lost in each other, uncaring of anything beyond that precious, shared moment. 

And three days for your mind to finally catch up to the sheer impossibility of it all.

As far as your Sundays go, you’d say this one takes the cake.

He’s been staying in a modest little rental just a couple of blocks away from you. Nothing extravagant – just a transient house he’s leased for the week. Not that you’ve technically been inside to know; he only pointed it out once, the single-storey residential from across the main street, as the two of you were heading back home—your home. To your little studio apartment.

Him. Sylus. In your condo. You can’t even begin to wrap your head around it.

You know that he’d just arrived in town two days before that fateful encounter at the bistro. That he’d already done his research to know exactly where you were going to be during that hour, and that he’s been here, on Earth, for quite some time now. Even before meeting you.

But past this knowledge, you haven’t actually covered much of anything, really. Just this little awkward dancing around you’ve been doing since you’ve been together.

And you know you should ask, probe, have him break down the hows of his existence to you, a clearer timeline of exactly when he popped into this world, what he’s been up to in all the time he’s been here… and why he’s even waited so long to come to you directly.

You’re painfully aware that it’s just you who’s keeping yourself from getting the answers you want. You’re the one making this harder than it needs to be. You can’t help it.

There’s no manual to tell you how to deal with your emotions when your virtual lover appears in front of you, in the flesh, miraculously defying all laws of physics in the process. No handbook telling you what to do next when something you’ve been wishing for every night before going to bed – for the past two years – actually manifests into being. 

Someone you’ve always longed for, staked deep within the confines of your heart, but never truly imagined the consequences of until your wishful thinking bled into reality.

And now he’s here.

All things considered, you think you’ve done an okay job at acting like everything’s normal. Mostly. Probably.

(You haven’t.)

The day after he showed up at your proverbial doorstep, you almost couldn’t believe everything that had transpired a mere twenty hours ago was even real. That maybe your brain had just gotten creative enough to invent a Hallmark-worthy scene to win you a one-way trip to your therapist—and that, maybe, you’d conjured him up simply because you missed him and you’re so down bad, your mind decided to start playing tricks on you.

...which nearly had your soul catapulting out of your body at the sight of the—extremely corporeal, extremely attractive—raven-haired (!) man moving through your kitchen the first morning he stayed over, wearing a black V-neck and a pair of grey sweatpants, ambling barefoot like he already knew the place by heart.

You suppose he does, you allow cautiously, an odd sort of warmth blooming in your chest at the thought. Of course he would. 

Still. It didn’t erase the surrealness of seeing Sylus, the Sylus—mortal, perfect, wonderfully alive—brewing you a cup of coffee at nine in the morning, your brain failing to fully comprehend the image of his towering figure working your faulty, secondhand De’Longhi like a pro.

"Are you," he started, eyes zooming in on the spot between your thumb and forefinger, mouth twitching like he's trying not to laugh, "pinching yourself?"

You had quickly withdrawn your hand, schooling your face into a poor attempt at nonchalance as you reached for the steaming blue mug he was holding out to you. "...No."

You can't help but hover around him, like some weird satellite desperate for orbit. You find yourself sneaking glances every five seconds—and more often than not, he meets your gaze with a wayward look of his own.

He never calls you out on it; he just gives you an infuriatingly impish smirk that sends your heart into overdrive, making you feel younger than you are. 

You’re still stewing over the events of the past few days, absentmindedly worrying whether the eggs needed more salt, when you hear the bathroom door open.

You whip your head around, and all systems crash to a stop.

Oh god. Oh fuck. 

He’s standing there—all six-foot-five of pure, lean muscle, like sin sculpted out of marble and left to walk your unvacuumed parquet wood floor without so much as a care for the cluttered little living space he’s in, looking completely at ease. Fresh from the shower, steam rising lazily from every inch of bare skin laid out in front of you, and it’s like The Neuron™ in your brain activates. The towel slung low across his hips leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, reducing your thoughts monosyllabic, like some half-evolved primate ready for mating season or whatever. Hot man. Hot man shirtless. Involuntarily, your eyes track a stray rivulet sliding down; right where the faintest suggestion of a happy trail (!!!) begins and ends… and you’re gone. Lost in some kind of trance. 

Utterly hypnotised, you watch as it soaks into the edge of the borrowed sage green terry cotton, faintly wondering if what’s beneath it could soak you the same way, shit—

A strangled noise slips past your lips. 

It’s terrible. You sound like a dying cow. Hot man’s fault. Bad.  

A snort breaks you out of your shameless ogling. 

Your head jerks up like you’ve been caught red-handed doing something you're not supposed to, guiltily meeting his eyes. You see Sylus already watching you wryly, the heavy drag of his half-lidded stare rooting you in place. 

Your face starts to flush red with embarrassment, heat climbing all the way up to your ears. 

He’s leaning a shoulder against the doorframe; arms crossed loosely over his chest, completely relaxed, and clearly getting a kick out of whatever expression you’ve got at the moment. His gaze doesn't waver, stuck on you like glue, drinking in every flustered reaction with quiet amusement. 

You swallow nervously. His eyes flicker down, tracing the movement of your throat, and his lips tug up into a semblance of a smile.

Fuuuuck.

"You already started on breakfast without me, sweetie?" He tuts in mock-disapproval. "I told you it’d take me less than twenty minutes to shower."

You don’t manage much in response, just a dumb, garbled, "mhm, s’okay."

You're completely blanked out at this point—bluescreen dead if you will—except for one panicked thought flashing through your brain: Holy shit, he's practically naked. Sylus Qin from Love and Deepspace is practically naked in my house. 

Then, not long after, a chorus of, “oh my god oh my god oh my god” starts looping in your head, overriding what little composure you had left like some raunchy PSA warning you about the dangerous rise of moisture down south.  

Sylus cocks his head slightly, sending you a sly, knowing look—one that says he knows exactly what's going on in that overstimulated little brain of yours.

Slowly, he pushes himself off and saunters closer to where you are, taking his time crossing the distance with easy, measured steps. As if he’s in no rush at all to get to you. As if he’s merely curious whether you’ll combust just from him shortening the proximity between your bodies. 

(You think you just might.)

And when he’s standing barely a few inches away – close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him – Sylus leans down, effectively trapping you between the counter and the solid wall of his chest. Between granite and sinew. 

You lose all capacity to speak.

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches out a hand to shut off the burner stove behind you with an easy flick of his wrist, the brief brush of his arm sending a shiver down your spine. Then, with maddening tenderness, he pinches your cheek between two fingers—his thumb caressing the spot right after.

In a voice filled with faux sympathy, he coos, “What’s got you all distracted, poppet?”

He’s teasing. You know he’s teasing. 

He’s done nothing but tease you with his devastatingly good looks, his overwhelming presence, and syrupy words spoken so sinfully in that low cadence of his voice, ever since he arrived. And, oh, you’re not sure whether to scream or kiss the smug look off his face silly.

You’re so bad at being subtle. You always have been, especially when it comes to him. And you know you can’t hide anything from Sylus – from the smallest flicker of microexpression on your face, down to the shortness of your breath. Both of you know this. Both of you painfully aware of the effect he has on you.

And just as much, you know he’s been holding himself back—that no matter how flirtatious he gets, he’s still keeping enough control to pull away whenever you start to get too overwhelmed.

Despite his provocations, Sylus never pushes. He waits, patiently. Giving you the space to volley back if you want to. And if you don’t, he backs off in a second, with the same effortless ease he uses to tease you. Leaving you room to breathe again. 

Rinse, repeat. 

It’s almost as if you two are playing a game with poorly drawn rules. You don’t know who’s winning.

The little spell breaks when you feel a disgruntled meow against your shin; it's immediately followed by a cat headbutting you, twice in succession, with a surprising amount of aggression.

"Not used to sharing your mother, are you?" Sylus sighs, pulling back from where he’d been caging you in—his movements slow, reluctant. 

A warning hiss rises from below. He raises his hands in mock surrender, stepping back to a safer distance, just out of swiping range. 

"Yes, yes. You win,” he grumbles in acquiescence at the testy feline, a comically put-upon look on his face. “For now.”  

You pull your eyes away from his bicep—look, you're just a girl, okay—to blink down at the temperamental little creature who’s now self-appointed himself as your personal foot guard. 

He’s making some vague, cryptic noises, something between a purr and a growl, while keeping his eyes locked firmly on Sylus’ leg. 

"He–um, he might just be hungry," you manage to mutter. A quick glance at the food bowl says otherwise. "...or not."

Sylus huffs under his breath, a low sound, equal parts understanding and mildly affronted. He tilts his head – eyes narrowing at the untouched kibble, then to the small furry menace claiming your feet like a jilted lover.

Unfortunately, Maru’s reception to the new person has been... less than cordial.

From the moment Sylus walked in the apartment, Maru had hissed at him as if to say: There is no reason for a Man to be here, before darting beneath the coffee table – tail lashing with all the theatrics of a petulant child. The churlish product of a mother who's been single for far too long, that he’s decided he’s the only boy she’ll ever need. 

It strikes you as a little odd. He never usually gets antsy around guests, and you'd even thought he and Sylus got along—or at least, back when the man in question was confined to mere pixels on screen. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have counted on that.

Sylus, to his credit, hasn't once tried to close the distance or force a peace treaty. Amused, definitely; the way his eyes glint whenever Maru glares at him could almost qualify as charmed. But since stepping into your home, he’s been mindful about giving the creature a wide berth, moving with the quiet understanding that respect here is sacrosanct, something to be earned. That he’s the one imposing, and the truce between him and the (true) man of the house is a fragile, delicate thing. 

You honestly haven’t decided if Maru’s behaviour is because he’s protective... or just pissed that someone else is hogging your attention.

"It’s alright, sweetie," Sylus—your son’s chosen rival—soothed you reassuringly; his hand rubbing a slow, comforting circle over the small of your back when he caught the slightly crestfallen look on your face. "He’s just feeling territorial about his space right now. Give it some time."

“I’ll get dressed,” Sylus murmurs. “Don’t start on the coffee without me.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, then another between your brows; the casual, freely-given affection leaves you warm and gooey inside. He turns toward your vanity, where his black duffel bag rests on the small plastic saddle chair.

You watch his retreating figure for a few seconds—long enough for him to glance back over his shoulder, one brow lifted in lazy inquiry. And the look is so familiar; so painfully reminiscent of the one he gives you in-game, right after you’d deliver a ‘slap’ to his ass, that it knocks you a little off-kilter. 

… Which might explain why you don’t react fast enough when his eyes flash with mischief, and he casually undoes the knot of his towel.

The fabric drops.

You catch a glimpse—more than a glimpse, hello—of the perkiest butt you’ve ever seen in your life, and you spin around so fast you slam your elbow into something undoubtedly solid in the process.

A half-pained, half-mortified wheeze escapes your throat.

"Careful," he calls out to you—and though amusement colors his voice, there's a real thread of worry beneath it, enough to make you want to slam your head against the counter for some inexplicable reason. "Don’t feel the need to grant me modesty on my behalf, kitten."

"Kitten’s about to kill herself," you lament with a whine. 

It earns you an unimpressed scoff.

“I just got here, my love,” he deadpans without missing a beat. “Daddy’s gonna have to ask you to hold on a little longer.”

You choke on nothing but air. Critical system failure. 

Buffering… buffering… buffering…

You inhale sharply.

"Okay, pause," you beg, a slightly hysterical edge to your tone as you claw your way back from a full-blown breakdown. In an attempt to divert the topic, “D’you–uh, do you want anything on your eggs? I’ve got ketchup, hot sauce... barbecue sauce..."

"A proper chef now, are you?" And oh, the next thing you know, he’s right behind you again. Close enough that you can feel the warmth of him through the thin fabric of your shirt. 

He smells faintly like your body wash, like Dove nourishing coconut and your calendula shampoo, a heady mix of something sweet and herbal.

The thought of him—of the both of you—smelling the same, actually makes you feel giddy. 

What a stupidly trivial, novel thing to find joy in. 

Snap the fuck out of it, it’s just soap, you chide to yourself. 

You don’t even notice you’re trembling until Sylus curls a large hand around yours; steadying the shaky fingers reaching for the bottle of Cholula on the condiment tray, while his other hand gently cradles your hurt elbow. 

Your breath hitches when he presses a kiss to your temple.

"Oh, sweetie," he murmurs, and it’s the way he says it—low and unbearably fond—that loosens some of the tension on your shoulders. "You’ve wound yourself up."

"I'm good," you mumble, though your voice betrays you, thinner than you mean it to sound.

"It's just me," he says, his tone as gentle as the breeze slipping through the open window, ruffling the choppy bangs that frame your face. "Nothing so different from how it’s always been, hmm?"

And you know he’s right. It's just him. Just Sylus. Your Sylus. No different from the one from two years ago.

"I know," you sigh, finally turning to face him, having to crane your neck slightly to meet his eyes. 

His expression is softer now, the type of softness reserved solely for you, something that never fails to make you ache. The teasing is gone, tucked away for the time being. 

"I just need a little time to wrap my head around this," you admit, voice quieter now. "Is that... is that okay?"

The greys of his eyes melt into something silvery, moonlit—impossibly tender. 

In one smooth motion, he lifts you onto the kitchen counter and steps between your legs, closing what little space remains between you. You yelp in surprise, but before you can react, he’s already leaning in, stealing a kiss from your lips. Just a quick one, like he couldn’t help himself, like he needed a taste to hold him over. He chuckles when he sees your wide-eyed look.

"Of course, my love," he says, voice wrought with promise—in love with the way your lips part, bitten pink and unsure, as he lifts your hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of it. "We’ll go as slow as you want. Forever, if that’s what you need." Forever, as what you two have. 

… 

For over a year, you’ve learned how to enjoy the small things alone. And you did—enjoy it, you mean. Once, almost a lifetime ago, you took for granted the quiet joys of a slower life. But you learned to take it day by day. One hour at a time, minute after minute. 

It made room for reflection, and it moulded you into something stronger, and softer, all at once.  

But this—with him—brings you back to another time. A sweeter time; the dog-day summer of your life. 

The morning hums with a kind of quiet normalcy you’ve grown accustomed to. You’re used to the sunlight spilling through the linen curtains, lining the floor with streaks of honey-gold, soft as a happy memory. Used to the noise of the outside world bleeding through the walls, a constant presence you’ve long since accepted as a permanent fixture in this tiny apartment, like a second heartbeat.

He’s right, in a way. 

This isn’t so different from the mornings you once shared with the same man—back when he wore a different face and led an extraordinarily polarized life, completely at odds with yours. The ones spent laughing into a screen, your fingers ghosting across glass, desperate to grasp something you never could. 

That life feels like it belonged to someone else now. Someone lonelier. 

So, no. Maybe not quite the same – maybe not even close.

–

You finally allow yourself to give in; to sink into the warmth of him, folding yourself smaller in his embrace like a tired bird nestling into a safer sky, your heart fluttering wild and restless against your ribs. Too big for your body, too full to contain. Here – tangled together in this sliver of morning light – everything that has hurt you feels small in comparison. You were never alone to begin with. But with Sylus in your arms, the world feels brighter than you ever remembered it could be.

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim @goldenbirdiee @amerti @angstylittleb1tch @reiofsuns2001 @j4mergy @touya-apologist @gladiolus-mamacitia @btszn @wrimaira @writingmyladsdelusions @borkunlimited @magnoliaswriteatsunset

[gay-dorito-dust]

i love your hc’s about dante and reader being Nero’s parents!! can we get a backstory on how they became his found parents or more hc’s about dante and reader being Nero’s parents?

you and dante had found Nero at an orphanage in the town of Fortuna after a mission, the boy with the glowing demonic arm and white hair that made his blue eyes pop obviously had sparda heratige. There was no doudt about that, especially not to Dante, who was hellbent on giving him the upbringing he deserved.

You pretty much punched someone for calling Nero a ‘child of the devil’ nobody insults your baby and gets away with it.

Dante did the exact same thing when another person called him devil spawn for having such an unsightly arm, an arm only belonging to that of the devil itself. He didn’t take too kindly to religious folk spouting their bigoted rhetoric, especially towards a small child like Nero who was giving you flowers he had plucked from the ground.

Neither of you mess about when it came to Nero and you both were sure as shit to make it known to all that if they spoke ill of your son, they’d have you and Dante to answer to or walk away with a busted nose.

‘Are you my new family?’ Baby Nero asked, his big blue eyes peering up at you and Dante’s he tried to hide his glowing arm behind his back, but was stoped when you grabbed both of his tiny hands within his own and smiled.

‘Yes we are my sweet boy, and you’ll never have to fight for your spot at the table nor second guess yourself or your worth. Not anymore.’ You tell him as you pressed a kiss to his head. ‘Your family Nero and family never give up on each other, never.’

‘Yeah kiddo, you’re stuck with us.’ Dante says as he ruffles Nero’s hair, causing the boy to pout and swat away his hand but it was clear to you and Dante that he was happy to finally having gotten out of the orphanage when he did.

You spoil baby Nero rotten by getting him whether you he wanted while cuddling and smothering your baby boy in kisses until he was laughing, trying to push you away as Dante watched from the doorway, happy to see his little family he was blessed to get back home to after each mission.

It was something that Dante didn’t think he’d ever get with how fucked his life had been thus far, but he was grateful that you had given him a chance and stay long enough to the point where you now have a son that you two would absolutely go to war for just to see smile.

He had to pinch himself most days, hoping that this wasn’t a dream he’d wake up from, alone and without a loving partner and a sweet little boy who’d he knew would one day grow up into a man who’d teach him a few things later on in life. Either way he didn’t want to wake up alone, so he joins you and little Nero by bringing you both into his arms as it was his turn to shower you both in kisses, his stubble tickling you both as you and baby Nero were left laughing and melting into his strong protective arms.

‘I’m thankful for you both’ was a phrase that came out of Dante’s mouth more often then not as he tucks you both into bed, kissing you both on your foreheads before joining you and Nero and holding you to his chest while you held Nero close to yours, a small family sharing a crappy bed but none of that mattered when you were together.

Baby Nero did get a little cheeky sometimes and had eaten some of Dante’s strawberry sundae once, he was immediately proven guilty by Dante as he wiped the melted ice cream from Nero’s cheek, gave it a sniff and knew that his son had taken a little bite out of his strawberry sundae that he had been saving for a while.

Yet he could never bring himself to be mad when Nero was most likely suffering from a brain freeze, and decided to hold his son close to his chest, kiss his forehead and hum a small tune his mother use to use for him and Vergil just before they went to sleep as the brain freeze subsided and Nero fell asleep within the warm embrace of his newfound father.

From then on Dante would split his sundae with Nero, but making sure the boy didn’t have too much for another brain freeze.

You had come across the scene one too many times where Dante and Nero’s face were smeared in the sweet sundae, looking at you with wide eyes as you laughed at the pair, ruffling their hair as you stole some sundae for yourself before reprimanded Dante for indulging Nero into becoming a sweet tooth like him.

‘Guilty as charged sweetheart.’ He’d show off those little fangs of his that he knew made you go a little nuts.

‘Then you’ll be responsible for when he gets a sugar rush then?’ You asked playfully as you picked up Nero after hearing him yawn, nuzzling his nose with your own as he practically clings onto you, babbling his baby nonsense as you rubbed his back.

‘Do I have you?’ Dante asks, pouting.

You peck his lips. ‘If you’re going to indulge our son, then you’re responsible for what happens when he has one too many strawberry sundaes.’ You tell him sweetly as you pecked his lips once more before walking up the stairs to put Nero to bed.

Dante would tell Nero of the tale of how you and him got together, the half demon and the angel as he’s called it becuase what else would he call it? You were borderline perfect -if not- the definition of perfection in his eyes. He told Nero how you’d fell in love, how you were always there for him and how he recalled fighting Hell itself in order to get you back, all the way to the softer moments where you and Dante would cuddle closely and kiss each other before missions and after missions.

‘Our relationship might not be a normal one in any sense but it’s ours and we love it regardless because we couldn’t ask for anything more then each other.’ He tells the quarter demon, who had only baby babbled at him.

‘Exactly son, exactly.’ Dante replies, acting as though he could understand Nero as the baby squealed and laughed, making the red coated half demon smile himself.

Your family maybe small but you and Dante loved your little family more then anything as you had a family album dedicated to all the moments you got with little baby Nero, mainly to embarrass him in front of his future girlfriend, but that was neither here nor there just yet.

[motthe]

there's no death here | robert "bob" reynolds [part ii]

warnings: childhood trauma, bit of blood, secondhand embarrassment maybe???

《masterlist》

Bob didn't know what to expect when Bucky mentioned a friend of his being able to help with his “weird mind power stuff.”

Said friend being a woman, Bob wasn’t sure if that made things easier or not. Opening up to anyone felt forbidden these days. That and the team knew how to deal with his bad days. He would have to see someone react to him for the first time all over again.

One thing Bob was sure about was that he would feel a hell of a lot worse hurting a woman if this training didn't go well.

Then you walked off the elevator, and he quickly realized he couldn't save face around you. For one, you held yourself like every other hero in his life. If there was a weakness, he couldn’t pinpoint it, and you held more confidence in one finger than he’d ever had in his entire life.

And second, you were beautiful. It had been a fact even from a distance, but then you held his hand without fear, and you’d smiled bright enough it blinded him for a good second.

Training the psychic side meant you were going to see every molecule of shit that ever existed in his head. There was nothing he was going to be able to hide from you. But if you weren’t running for the hills after everything you’d heard in his head the first day, then maybe there was a chance.

Bucky also mentioned all the lowlives you’d had to needle your way through to get evidence for detectives. When you said you’d seen the worst of the worst, you had meant it, and while Bob never once thought of himself as a good or even useful person, he could at least feel a bit better about himself when compared to a serial killer.

He had done bad things, but he'd never wanted to do them intentionally.

‘“So, h-how is all of this going to work?”

It was his second day meeting with you and after the storm of introductions with the rest of the team, one too many comments from Walker, and a strange look of respect passing between you and Yelena, this was the first time he’d ever been alone with you. There was no Bucky to look to for second opinions, no one to step in if something went wrong—

“Nothing is going to go wrong.”

His attention zipped to you as you sipped from a to-go coffee cup. “Um, can you warn me when you’re going to…you know?”

“I’m not reading your mind,” you said, tongue catching a stray drop on the corner of your lips.

Thank God, he thought and you winced like someone had blasted music in your ears. You made some vague hand gesture before the line in your brow relaxed.

“You’re projecting,” you said. “I told you, you're loud. But I can block you out. It just takes some fine tuning I don’t usually have to do with others.”

“So I’m just shouting everything?” he whispered, horrified.

You shook your head. “Not always. It’s bits and pieces. When you’re worried or excited the volume builds. It's like if you were ranting about something, y’know?”

“Can we work on that first?” he begged.

“First,” you said, clearly amused, “we have to get comfortable with one another. When I skirt around your head, you’re guarded in some places and open in others. You have to get used to being completely open with me before I can teach you to close yourself off.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “You’re going to have to see a lot of messed up stuff. I know you already have but still.”

“I’ll apologize as well,” you laughed, “because it’s going to go both ways. You’re going to see as much of me as I will of you, but that’s part of the process of building mental shields.”

“But if I’m able to get in—”

“You've done a great job keeping it under control so far,” you told him. “From what I read, you only see glimpses before you or your target breaks away.”

“I don’t want to even do that, though.”

“Well, in order to learn how to not do that, I have to see how you even do it in the first place.” You lifted your hand, palm facing up as you twiddled your fingers at him. “Let’s see what you bring out.”

He shook his head, sinking further into his chair. What happened to building up to his despicable magic trick? This was only day two. “I don’t think that's a good idea. Aren't we supposed to meditate or build the whole mind barrier thing by imagining bricks?”

“We’ll get there,” you promised, sipping your drink again. “For now, let’s level the playing field. You’re embarrassed and scared of all the things I know already. This will let you learn about me a bit.”

“What I make you see—” he tried again.

“I know. Trust me, I can handle it,” you swore, eyes hardened with certitude. “Now, come on in, Bob. The door’s open.”

He wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t curious about what shames you had floating around in your past, but baring yourself open as easily as you were… How were you okay with that? Would he learn where that came from while you were teaching him?

He closed his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to put you through the worst times of your life.

“Please, Bob. You trusted me to try yesterday. I need that again.”

“I know,” he whispered, straightening his shoulders as he looked you in the eye. “I just don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

There was that smile again. Radiant, he thought and you huffed on a laugh. Shit.

“I’m not afraid,” you promised.

He swallowed and reached out a hand. “You will be.”

A wall of darkness crashed over your mind. The ground fell out from under you, sending your heart off rhythm. Your first reaction was to ground yourself, but you fought it, allowing Bob’s presence to wash over you and drag you into whatever memory his power clung to.

Opening your eyes, you sucked your teeth at the sight of that old, wooden dining room table. You were four, doing your best to get around the food on your plate as your mother sat opposite of you. The dining room had that powdery smell of youth.

“Fuck,” you whispered, eyes watering as the grief claimed you. She was alive and breathing again and you were about to see the beginning of her spiral. But you had prepared for that.

“You don’t have to hide, Bob,” you called, sensing him nearby. “Come here.”

He stepped up on your right, eyes glued to the scene before looking at you. “You’re so young.”

“I was,” you agreed, frowning at the expressions flickering over your mother’s face. She looked a mess, clothes ragged on her frame and eyes darting around the room before settling on you, scowling at your plate.

“Baby, eat your food, please,” she called quietly.

“Don’t want to.”

You drowned the conversation out as you turned to Bob. “Your powers seem to pick shame from the beginning.”

“Never this young,” he whispered, eyes round as he looked at your toddler self.

“I was born with my powers. I couldn't control them back then,” you explained, wincing as your mother began to yell. You held a hand up, silencing the scene.

“How did you…?” He looked between your hand and the environment in awe.

“You can’t block my powers even when I’m in the midst of yours. That's interesting,” you hummed. Your heart squeezed in your chest as your mother threw herself to the floor, clawing at her head as your child self ran to her, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“What happened?” he asked, voice shaking.

“I projected a lot. Like you do now,” you explained, grabbing your upper arm as your mother’s hand found the butter knife on the floor and slashed. “She thought she was going insane and then she did.”

Bob turned away as your toddler self began to bleed, crawling away and screaming into silence. “I don’t want to see this.”

“Then don’t,” you told him. “Pull out of it.”

“I can’t just do things like you can!” he said, panic rising.

“Focus. Take a breath.” You eyed the scene as it started over from the top. Another thing to note. “You latched on to this memory. Let it go.”

“How?” His breath was picking up.

“Can I touch you?” you asked. The question seemed to confuse him for a second before he nodded. You grabbed his arms and turned him away from the dining room, getting his full attention on you. “Feel my hands?”

“Uh, yeah,” he murmured, bobbing his head.

“You’re feeling that with your mind. This isn’t real.”

“It was real," he breathed, watery.

“And now it’s done,” you stated gently. “Can’t be changed. I'll always regret what I did to my mother, but I was a kid. There was nothing I could do.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, hands folding back over yours as he took a slow breath. “Okay.”

“Feel the floor under your feet. You’ve grounded yourself to this memory. Now you just have unground.”

He looked down, expression pinching as he fought to focus. You couldn’t help but laugh as he jumped.

“With your mind,” you repeated.

“This is my mind!” he said, voice shrill and eyes wide as he met yours. “God, what if we’re stuck?”

“We’re not stuck,” you promised, squeezing his hands. “Here, I’ll do it. Maybe you’ll be able to feel it.”

Honing in on the sensations around you, you followed them back to your core, centering your focus on yourself and Bob. With a slow breath, you let that shield snap over the two of you, forcing the darkness back.

There was a split second as you trailed out of Bob's mental snare. You couldn't be sure, but somewhere on the horizon of your consciousness melding with his there was a…mass. A dark blotch.

And when you noticed it, there was no way to hide when it noticed you back.

A gasp of air split your lips. Back to reality, you two were still at the table in the Watchtower. Bob blinked opposite of you, his fingers skimming your palm. The shield you'd propped over both of you was still intact—that mental bond pulsing.

“How did she do that?”

Lots and lots of practice, you answered him, making yourself known in his head. Feel this? That’s how you’ll know I’m in your head.

He made a distressed expression that had you snorting. His head turned from side to side, reminiscent of a cat with a medical cone on for the first time. He wasn't sure what to do with a second presence melded to his. “Oh, weird. Okay. That feels so weird. I don't know if I like this.”

Yeah, not very comfortable. You want me to leave?

“Yeah, just, well, lemme try to get used to it for a second. So weird, what the fuck?”

You covered your face with your hand to try to find a semblance of professionalism, but it was impossible with the faces he made and the stream of thoughts filtering through.

I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing.

“I'd rather you be laughing than running, screaming out of the room. It's embarrassing, but it's not the worst.”

If it makes you feel any better, I'm not a professional in any shape or form. Bob's head tilted as he stared through the table. There was a brush against your mind. I'll make mistakes trying to figure out the best way to teach you what I know—oh, hi. That's me.

“You’re warm,” he replied aloud, squinting as he zeroed in. You made a point to retreat back a bit in case you ended up back in a shame room. His eyes flickered up to yours. “I feel you moving around. Is this how you see stuff?”

You nodded, a bit flustered at the feeling of his consciousness circling yours. He learned fast. “I’m not actively looking right now, just making my presence known. Careful, you press any further and you'll get my subconscious thoughts again.”

He shuddered as you pulled away from his mind completely. Your mind barrier went up for both his privacy and yours.

"Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

“No, its fine, just...so weird.” His nose wrinkled as he said it.

“Yeah, I've heard that before,” you scoffed, smiling into your drink. The way he grinned back, it weighed in one corner—the same side he turned into to avoid eye contact. “You have any questions for me after all that?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, that sweet smile dropping as he bit at his lip. “You…felt something when we left the shame room. How did I feel that? And what was it?”

“My shield connected us. I wanted to bring you out with me instead of pushing you out. Would've been a bit rude since I asked you to show me.” You fiddled with the cup sleeve, leaning back into your chair. “As for what I felt, I don't want to assume anything but seeing as I sensed it as much as it sensed me…”

“Did it scare you?” he asked.

“No, but I didn't expect to run into Void this soon. Does it always sit on the outer edges like that?”

Bob shrugged. “On good days, yeah. But he's always around. A voice in the back of my head.”

“Tell me about him,” you murmured. “I've read what others think of him, but I want your input.”

“He's just…bad.” Bob shook his head, hands rubbing over his jeans. “Everything messed up or wrong in me, he feeds on it. He spits it back out on the bad days and tries to overwhelm me? I guess?”

“Does he try to get out often?”

His hair swayed as his head shook again. “More like when I'm weakest.”

“Weakest mentally? What about physically?” Bob shrugged, looking put off by the questions. “I'm not trying to overstep, I just need to understand as much as possible. They say he's your alter ego, that he's separate from you.”

“I mean, that's not wrong but I don't know if that's right either.”

You made a mental note. “Would you call him a parasite?”

“No.”

You raised a brow, amazed at the certainty. “Why? You said he feeds on you.”

There was a twist in his face, a flash of molten something in his eyes as he shook his head. “Sorry. Um, I don't know. I, uh…”

You slowly reached back out to his mind, gentle as you weighed against him. It's okay. We can stop here for today.

“Sorry,” he breathed, shoulders sinking. “He's louder now. I think we pissed him off.”

“Yeah, that'll probably be happening a lot from now on,” you chuckled, standing to throw your empty cup away. There was no trash can in your immediate view. “If you ever need help, I'm good at blocking things out for a time. I don't know if that would make things worse, but it's worth a shot, right?”

He surprised you with a weak laugh, clearing his throat as you turned. “Sorry. I know you said you weren't a professional, I just didn't expect this to be casual.”

You weren't sure how else you could have been. The stuff you both would be dealing with, well, you'd be getting personal with a whole lot in a very short amount of time. That's why you and Wanda were so close as well as Nat. One wanted you to learn your powers on a spiritual level, and the other wanted you to be able to steel your mind when chaos came knocking.

Hopefully, with Bob you could be that anchor they had become for you.

“I'm definitely not the strict and unemotional type,” you agreed with him. “As dangerous as all this could be, it's a breath of fresh air compared to what I was doing, so. Thanks for wanting me to help.”

There was that shy little grin of his again. You hoped, maybe after a few weeks or less, it wouldn't be as rare to see.

[leonalovesalot]

Freaky on camera IV

Brother’sBestFriend!ArtDonaldson x Camgirl!Reader

18+ MinorsDNI

wc: 2.9k

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The next few weeks were spent in your room, alone, or out with your friends. You were doing everything and anything you could to avoid Art. That night replayed in your mind every time you closed your eyes, and that same nauseating feeling continued to overwhelm you.

After the subtle threat that Art spat at you, you stood there frozen. Your eyes were blurry because they were brimming with tears. You thought he’d panic and apologize profusely because he was your big brother’s friend and you trusted him to do good. But from what you recall, he just turned around and walked out of your room without uttering a word.

You were petrified, to say the least. This cam-girl side hustle was never supposed to creep its way into your real life. It was your own world where you could indulge in your darkest desires and feel secure about yourself in doing so. And somehow, in an instant, that world crumbled.

It was all Art's fault.

So, since then, whenever you hear Patrick mentioning plans with Art, you just grab your car keys and leave the house. When he stays the night, you crash on a friend's couch.

You couldn't talk to anyone about this because that would mean exposing your confidential persona. Left to your own devices, you thought a lot about your next moves.

Interestingly enough, as the days went by, your fear began morphing into anger. Mainly because it was so unlike you to just cower and stutter like a bitch in the face of some guy. Giving Art that kind of power over you made you tremble with rage. It was so humiliating. The way he felt like he could control and take advantage of you. You would never, ever let that happen. You would never give him that satisfaction, even if you had to risk being found out.

You had taken a hiatus from your camming. Some of your viewers were upset and left angry comments on your profile as if you owed this to them. The parasocial attachment some people had formed with you was quite appalling. Like they'd just die if you weren't squeezing your tits for them twice a week. Absolute losers.

In just a small amount of time, you became bitter and revengeful.

You weren't going to stand idly by as the pathetic, second-rate men of the world tried to tear you down.

You'd start with Art Donaldson.

Art, Art, Art.

Oh, how he surprised you by revealing himself to be such a complete and utter scumbag. It was saddening too, because you always thought he was a sweetheart. He and Patrick were always giggling and running around together as kids. Even as they got older, that playfulness and love for one another never died down. It was so endearing and you always admired the strong bond between the two.

But now?

You didn't know how to feel.

Did Patrick know about this side of Art? They told each other everything so it wasn't totally out of the question. But there's no way Art told Patrick about your camming because Patrick had been acting the same around you. Phew.

When the summer semester began, you were actually glad. It meant that Art would drive his awful self back to Stanford, and you could finally walk freely through your house without being on high alert all the time.

It was time to put your plan into motion.

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Art had a confusing summer break. He was expecting some more friction between you and him, but you going MIA after that night was unexpected. He wondered if he'd gone too far when the following Tuesday, YourRoxy had announced a hiatus. He was sitting in his childhood bedroom, lotion in hand, only to be blueballed.

This wasn't what he wanted. He wanted you to continue, he wanted to be next to you while you did. He couldn't get enough of you. Yeah, he did kind of blackmail you but he didn't think you'd just give up and turn into a recluse.

That wasn't you.

He had heard stories, through Patrick, of how you had no problem standing up to the mean kids in elementary school. You once told off this one older kid, Eddy, who would bully Patrick, during recess, on the playground. He'd tease Patrick about being on the shorter side as an eleven year old. Now that Patrick was a lot taller and muscular, he often mentioned how he wishes he'd run into Eddy again just to show him how much he's changed. But even back then, as a tiny eight year old, you saw your brother in distress, marched right up to Eddy, and made him cry.

Art loved that story.

After getting back to school for the summer semester, Art lost himself in his lectures, practices, and games. It was only syllabus week and there was already so much to do, he couldn't believe it. He was taking two classes this term and it still seemed just as hectic as when he'd take four.

He went right back to just, surviving. Nothing out of the ordinary, no excitement in his life. He didn't even feel like relieving stress by jerking off anymore. Without you, it wasn't as fun.

On the Friday of his first week back, he trudged to his dorm tiredly after practice. He was exhausted all week because the time off school had ruined his sleep schedule. So much so that he almost fell asleep in his lecture today, and then again while showering after practice (standing up). He was glad to be done around four p.m. and decided to just sleep the whole day.

He reaches his door, and takes the Yonex tennis bag off his shoulder. He opens the small zipper at the front and takes out his key and sticks it into the entrance of his dorm. Art unlocks the door and yawns as he walks in.

His eyes widen at the sight before him, and his yawn becomes a gasp as he recoils, back hitting the doorframe.

There you were. Sitting on his unmade twin bed, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger. You wore the tiniest denim shorts—they were basically panties—along with a tight black top. You looked unbelievably sexy.

"Finally," you sigh, "I aged like ten years waiting for you." You didn't look the least bit surprised when he walked in. This is the Y/N he was used to. The one that exuded confidence and poise.

Art just stood there, hand wrapped around the doorknob while the other held his bag.

"You gonna come in or...?" You stand up and stretch your neck, tilting it side to side.

He slowly takes a step inside the dorm room and closes the door behind him. He drops his tennis bag on the floor by his foot and gulps, suddenly hyperaware of how small the room is. It definitely wasn’t meant for two people—especially not two with this much sexual tension between them.

"So how was practice-" You begin to ask casually, but Art impatiently cuts you off.

"How did you get in?" He looked tense—angry, even. Like he couldn’t believe that you had the nerve to show up unannounced after avoiding him, and letting him believe he had destroyed you.

You scoff, annoyed that he cut you off. It was your biggest pet peeve.

"You made your boyfriend a copy of your key, remember?" You say, reaching into your back pocket and holding up the key—with the tennis ball keychain—that Art had given to Patrick in case of an emergency. Earlier today, you had simply walked into Patrick's bedroom and taken it from his bedside drawer. It was too easy.

Art rolls his eyes and your sarcastic remark.

"What're you doing here?" Art asks slightly irritated. To be honest, he was just so tired and you were literally standing in the way of him and his bed.

The corner of your lip curled up, "you don't seem happy to see me."

Art inhales sharply, "I'm- I just- why're you here?"

You put your hands in your pockets and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. Your cool demeanour was a stark contrast from Art’s cautious one.

“Well, our last encounter left us with a lot to discuss. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Art swallows. He didn’t understand how the tables had turned. You were in his dorm, on his college campus, and yet it felt like you had all the power. Whereas, when he was in your house, he seemed to be the one running the show. That confused him, but he took a deep breath and tried to get some of his mojo back. He had nothing to be afraid of, he reminded himself. You were the one playing the dangerous game of how-do-I-not-get-caught-today? Art was in the clear.

His eyes meet yours, suddenly a little more confident. But you didn’t back down, you just smirked. You felt excitement, like you both stepped into a ring and were ready to see who would come out on top.

“Sure, yeah.” He nods.

"Good, so we're on the same page," you walk over to his desk and push his laptop aside. You hop up and sit on it. Legs swinging.

Art's eyes follow your every movement. He couldn't predict what you'd do next which made him all the more nervous.

"I was shocked when you came into my room that night.” You kiss your teeth. “The way you talked to me—just thinking about it makes me wanna—” You pause and shake your head.

You didn’t finish the sentence, but Art knew it was probably something along the lines of 'bash your head in'.

"But, I'm here to speak about what you said to me. I wanted to know whether you were all talk." You cross your arms.

Art mulled it over. Was he serious? Did he want your money? Did he really want to blackmail you—to make you hate him? Well, yes and no. The last thing he wanted was for you to despise him—but he knew it was already too late. Fuck, he just wanted you around. He liked you. Even now, when you were pissed at him, he didn't want to be anywhere else. He had gotten a taste of you and didn't want to go back to the way things were. And if he came clean—told you he didn’t actually give a fuck about the money—he knew he’d lose whatever this was.

"Well, I'm not." Art takes a step further into his room, "I meant it."

Your brows raise like you were impressed, "did you now? You seriously want me to split my earnings with you?" You scoff.

“Yeah. And if you don’t—well, I’m sure you know what’ll happen.” He was starting to feel at ease.

You listen and nod slowly, a smile creeping onto your face. Not from joy, but from the sheer absurdity of it all.

"Right, you'll run off and tell Patrick." You tilt your head and stare at the carpeted floor. It’s surprisingly clean—no stains, no socks, not even a little lint. You hadn’t pegged him as the tidy type. Cleanliness was actually a quality you found very attractive in a man. But seeing as that man was Art Donaldson, you knew the spotlessness on the outside didn’t translate to the inside.

"It's a pretty straightforward situation, Y/N. I mean, I'm letting you buy my silence." Art looks smug as he sees your jaw clenching, knowing he was getting to you.

"Letting me?" You chuckle in disbelief. "Art there is no fucking way I'm going to just let you walk all over me like this." You were being stern.

"Oh okay," he shrugs, "then I guess I'll just call Patrick and let him know his little sister is an exhibitionistic freak."

Your lips part at his comment. It was far from the truth and you hated that he reduced your secret profession down to some sick fetish.

"Like you're any better," you slide off his desk and stand up straight, "Blackmailing me because you're just some privileged asshole with affluenza."

“You can say whatever you want,” Art says with a shrug, his expression cocky. “But the fact remains—you’re fucked.”

You let out an artificial laugh. “You do realize that if you tell Patrick, I’ll be more than happy to fill him in on your little diabolical scheme, right?”

You were acting a little unhinged—but he was getting used to it. In fact, he was starting to enjoy it. It gave him a glimpse of all the colours of you. You could be so intimidating when you wanted to be. And, to his surprise, he found that… attractive.

"And you do realize that I'll just deny it, right?" Art smirks as he mocks you.

You roll your eyes, "he wouldn't take your word over mine, Art. I'm his blood."

"Maybe, but I have tangible evidence," he nods toward his laptop on the desk, "just one click."

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” Your anger was starting to surface again.

“Careful,” Art warns, fire in his eyes. “You wouldn’t want to make this worse for yourself by running your mouth.” That fire wasn’t going out anytime soon.

You gasp, then bite back, “You’re just as deep in shit as I am, Art.”

Intrigue flashes across his eyes, "really? How so?"

"I mean, the fact that you were lurking on my profile for God knows how long! Did you feel no shame, Art?" You take a step closer to him. "I'm willing to bet that, even though you were shocked to see me, you definitely couldn't stop yourself from getting hard. I bet you even jerked off." you whisper, "while moaning my fucking name."

Art's expression hardens and he takes in shaky breath. "Even so, you have no way to prove that," he chokes out.

Your tongue clicks, annoyed that he was right. "So if I give you thirty percent of what I make after each session," you think out loud, "you'll leave me alone?"

Art was surprised that you were beginning to give in. He was slightly let down that you weren't as full of spunk anymore.

"That's what I said, yeah." Art walks over to his bed and sits on the edge of it, looking up at you.

Now it was your turn to mull it over. You wanted nothing more than to scream at him and storm out of his stuffy dorm room. But you couldn’t risk being found out. What if he wasn’t bluffing? You couldn’t take that chance. Still, this deal wasn’t good enough. You needed more—a guarantee. Maybe even something on Art.

"Fine." You exhale heavily, "but, I'm also going to need a little something of yours."

Art furrows his brows, "what do you mean?"

You take a step closer and it forces him to tilt his head further to meet your gaze.

“I’ll give you the money—but I need some assurance you won’t fuck me over. You know, like take the cash and snitch to Patrick anyway.” Your uncompromising demeanour was back and even though you had to give him what he asked, you were still only going to do it on your own terms.

"I wouldn't do that to you, Y/N," he says, starting to sound almost genuine.

You snort and cut him off. “Well, you can’t blame me for not trusting you. Before that night, I thought you were a decent guy. And now? Well... I think the opposite.”

A frown crosses his face, but you didn't care.

You continue, "I need to know that if I promise to follow through on my end, there is absolutely no chance of you ever slipping up." You emphasized every word in the sentence. You weren't messing around.

Art agrees with you and nods, "okay, that's fair."

"Good." You were glad that the two of you were finally in agreement.

"How do we go about this then?" Art swallows, his neck beginning to ache from staring up at you.

You stare down at the floor as you thought about what would be enough to reassure you. You didn’t have to hold back in front of him; after all, this whole dilemma was insane to begin with.

You finally speak up.

"You have to film with me."

Art's eyes widens in shock and he gulps, "what?"

"I didn't stutter," you walk closer and were basically standing between his legs now, staring right into his blue eyes. "that way I know you won't even think to utter a word about me."

Art couldn't comprehend the words coming out of your mouth, filling his ears. He couldn't fathom how out of hand this had gotten. Film with you? Were you two really going to fuck in front of your viewers? Oh God, he would get to see you naked in person. He'd get to touch you, run his hands over your beautiful body, and have you all to himself. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, feeling a familiar tug in his shorts.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea, Y/N,” Art stammers, nearly choking when you grab his jaw between your index and thumb, shutting him right up.

"We're doing it," you smirk at the accidental double entendre.

"If I go down, I'm taking you down with me."

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Thank you for being patient with me!!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter!!

Next part will probably be the last :))

Tags <3: @won-every-lottery @improbablynotpoppy @challenger-fan-club @x0teric @theynothem @bigsattirn @coolgirlsyndrome @jamespotteraliveversion @idyllicdaydreams @tamprongsobsessor

(Let me know if the tags aren’t working)

[thewertsearch]

@jupitersrosebud asked: Thought I'd go through my homestuck playlist and send some videos your way that were made around the time you've reached in the comic Homestuck - Blue Lips (one of the all time greats, sorry if you've gotten this a lot) (uploaded two days after we saw the sufferer's death) Homestuck Triple Baka (uploaded in the short break after karkat shoosh paping gamzee) Homestuck [S] Everyone: This is WAR (uploaded a week later) Brave New World [Homestuck - SPOILERS] (uploaded two days after [s] cascade.) Homestuck - How Far We've Come (uploaded on the day jake started exploring the outside) [Homestuck] The Sufferer's Final Sermon (this guy went on to become a popular voice actor, like so many other homestucks of the time) (uploaded on the day jake shot at crab dad) You're gonna go far, Kid [Homestuck] (uploaded two days after the curtain fell on act 6 act 1)

Hot damn, these are great.

Of particular note is this AMV of How Far We've Come. The video's author did a fantastic job, effectively utilizing the medium to convey the broad strokes of everyone's character arcs. I'm a sucker for a good AMV, and I've been reading Homestuck for long enough now that it really tugs at the heartstrings.

Jesus, I'm already starting to feel nostalgia! For fucking Homestuck!

I also really like Blue Lips.

Poor Equius, man. His cultural conditioning was perhaps the strongest out of all the trolls - and in the end, he couldn't move a single muscle against his superiors, even to preserve his own life.

Could Equius ever have broken free of his planet's chains? Was there any hope for him, at all? Personally, I think there was - but now, we'll never know. Great video, great song choice, and an interesting exploration of a character that doesn't get much love in-comic.

Fuck yeah, it's a Scourge Sisters AMV!

...well, the first half is, anyway. The whole thing's more of a general Hivebent/Murderstuck AMV, celebrating the trolls and their many misadventures. You're Gonna Go Far, Kid was the first song I ever learned on the guitar, so I'll always have a bit of a soft spot for it - and it definitely fits our Alternian heroes. After all, these kids were created to go far.

And this is nothing less than the pure, distilled essence of 2011. ♥

[johnnysuhbmarine]

Out of Time

Pairing: Chenle x reader Description: You'd be lying if you said feelings weren't caught within the thirteen years of friendship you had with Chenle, but even when you both wanted to be more, you agreed to shut any idea of it down - his future marriage was already arranged as part of a business deal, there was no point setting your hearts up for breaking. So, why is he on your doorstep begging for a chance just three months before he has to go back to China?  Content warnings: Arranged marriage au but not with each other; rich kid Chenle; swearing; they have sex, and while no actual smut is written, it’s not exactly glossed over, either; fluff; angst; there is no happy ending to this part but I promise another part is coming Word count: 16,362 A/n: If you knew how long I’ve been working on this idea, you wouldn’t believe me…but now that this first part is out I’m actually really happy with how it’s come together. The second part should be out in no more than a few weeks (hopefully). Let me know if you want to be on a taglist for it. Posting this today to celebrate @fullsunstrawberry's last day of class for the semester!!…though this ends in angst so it’s not the best gift I’ve ever come up with 🫠 Anyways, please enjoy, though who am I to tell you what to do…as always, feedback would be greatly appreciated. Take care of yourselves, I love you

Your childhood went by too fast. Though, you assume that’s the only way it could feel when it’s the sole marker of the time you were able to have with Chenle. The two of you grew up together, but through conversations you felt you were too young to be involved in, you both knew that you wouldn’t be able to continue with said friendship in adulthood. The thing about Chenle was, he’s lived with his aunt, right across the street from your parents, in a small Korean suburb since he was five years old. However, where he spent the first four years of his life, and where he would eventually be summoned back to, was with his parents in Shanghai. 

There was nothing wrong about his parents. In fact, for most of childhood, Chenle only had positive things to say about them, a wide smile adorning his face whenever he thought of seeing them again. The entire reason he was living with his aunt was because his parents wanted him to experience a normal childhood, so really, they had his best interest at heart. That being said, they did not care about whether or not Chenle would have a normal adulthood. Instead, they were waiting for him to fall in line, learn how to eventually take over their multimillion dollar company, and with that, play his part…and accept the fact that his future marriage, to the daughter of one of their business partners, has been arranged for him since the moment he was born. Finding this out, Chenle no longer had loads of nice things to say about his parents. He lived with a constant resentment towards them since the start of high school, but you were always his one beacon of comfort, where the weight of his future could fall off his shoulders and he could just be a kid again for a little while longer. 

It was the summer before freshman year of high school when your parents and his aunt sat the two of you down at the dinner table and explained how Chenle’s future was going to pan out. You were just fourteen years old, having Chenle suddenly upset and arguing about who he’d be marrying felt so wrong, the problem seemingly so far away. You were kids, but because of that moment, you both grew up too quickly - Chenle by force, and you because you refused to let him go through it alone. The real world, outside of school and pickup basketball games in someone’s driveway, now weighed heavily on the two of you, and the only thing you could promise was that you’d navigate as much of it as you could together. 

The one thing his parents agreed to compromise on was that, rather than having Chenle fly back immediately after high school graduation, he could stick through that last summer with you, and eventually head back to China when you left for university. That’s the exact period of time that the two of you were in now - almost a full three months where the plans that have been talked about for years were now facing you head on. Stupidly, you try to forget about it, pretend it was just some normal summer, like your best friend wasn’t being ripped away from you at the end of it. You were setting yourself up to be blindsided by the inevitable passage of time, but it was all you could think to do if you wanted to hold onto any chance at smiling this summer.

It was the day right after graduation when Chenle hopped across the street and rang your doorbell. It was the middle of the day, your parents still at work, so you had to be the one to slide off the couch and check who was at the door. Normally, Chenle would text you before he came over, and you would have the door already unlocked for his arrival so that he could just barge in and join you on the couch…or immediately grab your wrist, drag you through the kitchen for two glasses of lemonade, and then out the back door for another basketball match. The last thing you expected him to do was ring the doorbell out of nowhere, but more confusingly, when you open the front door to face him, he’s pacing back and forth. His mind seemed to be going a hundred miles a minute, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look this distraught before. 

“Chenle?” You prompt, tilting your head at him still making circles in your front walkway. He snaps his head up and stops moving, seeming not to have heard you actually open the door yet and instead leaving him to get surprised by your voice. As he takes in your bewildered state, he does his best to calm himself, correctly assuming he was the reason for it. 

Now, his body faces you full-on, but he still can’t meet your eyes, instead looking towards the ground and sucking on his bottom lip as he figures out what he wants to say. Eventually, he gives up, shaking his head and bringing his gaze up to you with an agitated sigh. “Any way I put this, I come off as an asshole, so please forgive me,” he finally says all at once.

You furrow your brows at him in confusion, your return question bearing a much lighter tone than his own. “What’s up, Chenle?”

He darts his gaze off to the side, biting on his bottom lip again. Though, this contemplation period hardly lasted a second before he’s dropping his head and spitting out his words through one rushed exhale. “Can I be selfish for one summer? Before you go to college? Before I move back to my parents' house? I know we both agreed to be smart enough not to get involved…but before I have to be someone else’s, I want to be yours - even if it’s just for one summer.” 

To say you were thrown off was an understatement, but not necessarily because of his confession. It was no secret the two of you developed feelings for each other. Your parents knew it, his aunt knew it, you knew it, he knew it - there was no use in pretending said feelings didn’t exist. However, being sixteen with those feelings and knowing what you had since you were fourteen made the situation less than average. 

You and Chenle decided the best thing you could do was flesh everything out. So, one random day of sophomore year, you did. An entire evening kicking yourselves for catching feelings, laughing at the fact that it seemed inevitable, and then deciding that the best course of action now was to try and forget about it. You were not the daughter of his wealthy parents’ wealthy business partner, and the two of you quickly learned that there was no changing his parents’ minds on the arranged marriage. There was no reason to try and pretend an outcome could exist where the two of you could work, where you wouldn’t get hurt. It was both, a pro and a con of being forced to grow up - dumb decisions that your childhood was waiting for you to make were never made, and it was so hard to tell which dumb decisions you actually missed out on. 

Chenle was right, the two of you agreed to be smart enough to not get involved, but a part of you was mad that you never took the chance to be a stupid high school kid. It seemed entirely out of left field for Chenle to address the situation again just three months before the beginning of the rest of your lives kicked in, but you’re glad he did.

“One summer for us to make some stupid decisions and break our own hearts?” You echo back, and any trace of hope on Chenle’s face fades away. That is, until you look back at him with a smirk, leaning against your doorframe casually. “Yeah, what the hell. Let’s do it,” you say, and when Chenle whips his head back up to face you in surprise, you can’t stop your smirk from turning into a full smile.

Chenle shakes his head quickly, as though to get rid of all the thoughts on how to respond to a refusal that never came, and instead an easy smile reaches his own face as he looks back at you. “Great! So, can I take you on a date?” 

He’s completely serious as he replies and this is where you’re most taken aback. “Oh, starting off with a date?” You only had three months to be together, and to be quite honest, you thought Chenle was going to skip past all the initial dates and dive right in, knowing that you wouldn’t have given it a second thought if he immediately had you pinned against a wall. You seemed to have greatly underestimated the character of your best friend though, because he shoots back with a sure nod, genuinity filling his next words.

“Well, yeah. I don’t want this to just be a physical thing. I want to be able to say that you were my first love. You were always meant to have that title. I want to remember you that way, not as some no-strings-attached summer fling.” 

You immediately drop your head to face the floor. Chenle must have grown up some more when you weren’t looking. All at once, you don’t know what happened to the loser you grew up with, who learned to shut off his feelings and fill all that space with basketball instead; but now, here he stood, making his intentions very clear in that he planned to spend the summer falling in love with you, and outside of the shock you’ve felt throughout this entire conversation, a new feeling erupts in your stomach - butterflies. 

You look back up at him, regardless of how embarrassingly red you could tell your cheeks were, and a smile reaches your face as soon as the two of you lock eyes. “A date it is,” you say with a nod before stepping back into your house some more and actually letting him inside for a bit. “I’ll have to actually get out of my pajamas,” you say with a laugh. “Any idea of where you want to go?”

Chenle bites on the inside of his cheek before shaking his head. “Well, you know I can take you out on a really fancy date, and if that’s what you want, we can do that. I mean, that’s sure as hell what you deserve…but I was thinking maybe we could just go out to our favorite ice cream shop and then play some basketball.”

Your cheeks puff out in a smile. “So, you wanna hang out?” You tease, and Chenle is quick to shake his head.

“No! I wanna go on a date with you! I know we get ice cream and play basketball a lot, but now I want to do so while also knowing I can go up and kiss you whenever I want.”

You raise an eyebrow playfully. “Oh, now we’re kissing on the first date?” 

Chenle just stares at you in disinterest. “Three months, y/n. That’s all I get. I’m not exactly looking to take things super slow. Besides,” he continues, throwing a sly smirk your way as his own brows raise. “You’re the one who’s been wanting to kiss me for the past two years.”

Your mouth drops into a gape as you swat at him, only succeeding in making him laugh like a dolphin, and while you made fun of his laugh whenever you could, it was also your favorite thing in the world. A certain warmth fills your chest at the sound of it as you simply shake your head. “Whatever. You’ve been wanting to kiss me for the past two years as well. Don’t even pretend otherwise.” He’s still getting over his laughing fit as you finish your sentence, leaving you to just roll your eyes at him as you turn and walk upstairs to your room to change, the front door still hanging open for him to eventually follow you through.

When you come back downstairs after getting ready, Chenle looks you up and down with a smile. “I’ve always liked that skirt on you,” he says casually. You let out a light laugh.

“I know. You weren’t very secretive about it,” you reply playfully, causing a light dusting of pink to cover Chenle’s cheeks.

“Is dating you just going to be a nonstop period of you teasing me?” He finally asks in return. His words make you freeze, though. You only had three months but he was serious about it, serious about you, and you couldn’t help thinking about how great the hurt would be for both of you once it was over.

You shake out of it, you had to, and instead send a wink his way as you rush out the door without him. “I guess you’ll have to just wait and see,” you banter back, and Chenle rolls his eyes before following you out and doing your part in locking up behind him. 

While you were exchanging greetings with the worker on the other side of the ice cream parlor’s bar, Chenle was just continuously poking at your arm. “What?” You finally snap as you turn to him, though no one would ever be able to pick up even the slightest bit of irritation with his antics based off the smile on your face as you looked at him.

Chenle draws in a deep breath as a confidence booster before spitting out his words all at once. “I know we normally get our own milkshakes and finish them, but if you wanted to do that thing where we get one milkshake and put two straws in it, we could.” He was completely serious as he spoke, and you bite your lip to stop the wide smile from coming onto your face at his attempt to truly make this feel like a date. 

Instead of letting him know how cute he was, you resort back to messing with him. “Hmm…less ice cream for me, though,” you say, pretending to contemplate his offer.

“I can buy us another one after that!” He quickly responds, and you can see the typical energy begin to flow back through his body as he relaxes some more. “We can just keep ordering milkshakes to share! I mean, what’s a couple of $5 transactions on a black card?” He continues rambling but you break out into a laugh, immediately getting him to stop and stare at you in bewilderment because nothing he just said was a joke.

“Breaking out the black card for our first date?” You ask, looking over at Chenle as though you were something like impressed. He does not see what the big deal is.

“Of course, anything for you-” That’s where he breaks himself off, his head falling into his hands on the counter as he finally cracks. “God, I feel like a loser,” he groans, but a fond smile paints its way across your face in response.

“You’re not a loser,” you reply calmly, but Chenle shakes his head in his hands, his next words coming out covered in defeat.

“But my face is red and I’m saying stupid stuff.”

“It’s cute,” you reassure him gently, but he is quick to quip back.

“You’re cute.” The statement rolls off his tongue effortlessly and you jump back a little in your seat, eyes wide.

“Woah, lele. I didn’t know you could actually be sweet to me,” you say back, feigning astonishment. 

Chenle finally lifts his head up out of his hands to drag his troubled gaze over to you. “Do you see what I’m talking about? I’m a loser! I didn’t mean to say that,” he groans.

You just furrow your brows. “So, you don’t think I’m cute?” You ask playfully. Chenle squeezes his eyes shut, taking an extra long breath before peeking one eye open to look at you and practically whisper his response.

“Yes, I do.” 

An easy smile spreads across your face as you take in the fact that Chenle genuinely complimented you, though you were glad to see it pained him to admit it because that meant this was still your Chenle after all. You immediately turn your gaze back over to the worker, who pretended to be super invested in cleaning the counter as your conversation with Chenle drew out, and then you order just one milkshake with two straws. After, you move your gaze back over to your best friend.

“You can just be yourself, you know? I’ve liked you for years already, you don’t have to try and win me over now.”

Chenle sucks on his bottom lip, sighing. “I know but…you deserve to feel romanced and loved, and I want to do that, I just- it’s not my strong suit. My parents just bought me things and then shipped me overseas. A pretty weird love language if you ask me.” He ends with a small laugh, and you’re relieved to see the tension in his shoulders fall as he does. 

You shoot a fond smile his way in response. “I know, and that’s okay. Look, these three months for us to be together is just a change in the title of our relationship. There’s not much else that has to change. I won't hate you for struggling with how to express love. I know you like me, that’s enough.”

“Stop being so good at making me feel better,” he says with a weak grin. “I already feel like I’m not good enough for you.” 

You roll your eyes, placing one hand on top of his at the counter, getting him to meet your serious gaze. “Lele, you make me happy - that’s more than enough. Plus, you’re rich,” you add, and Chenle lets out his own laugh as he rips his hand away from under yours.

“Oh, whatever,” he replies with a scoff, but the atmosphere is instantly lighter as your laughter is only broken up by the milkshake being slid in between the two of you, immediately redirecting your attention to the shared directive of sucking that down as fast as you could. 

As Chenle got his card back after paying for all your rounds of milkshakes, he turned to you with a hopeful grin. “Do you wanna go back and play basketball in our street?” He asks, causing a similar smirk to spread across your own features.

“You know I do, but can you take it easy on me now that we’re dating?” You suggest playfully, though surprise was the last feeling that came to mind when Chenle’s eyebrows furrow in response.

“Absolutely not,” he replies quickly, causing you to sigh. “If anything, I gotta go harder on you now that we’re dating. I don’t date amateurs. You gotta keep up with me.” Your face falls into shock as you lightly hit the back of your hand against his forearm and the two of you break out into laughter again.

“Hey! Thirteen years of pickup basketball does not equate to me being an amateur. I’m a seasoned pro,” you try to say seriously. Chenle raises his eyebrows at you in a taunt.

“Yeah? We’ll see about that. What do you say, loser has to buy-” He cuts himself off from going over the terms of the bet as he turns his attention towards the countertop in disbelief. “I guess I just bought all our ice cream. What are we supposed to use as a bet now?” He speaks as though his hopes and dreams were ruined. You just shake your head fondly at him, sucking on your bottom lip to try and hold back a smile.

“Come on,” you say, moving to grab his hand in yours and pull him away from the counter. “We’ll figure something out. Let’s go before it gets dark.” 

Chenle shoots you a look as though you were crazy. “Y/n, it’s summer. We have like- at least five more hours before it gets dark.” 

You stop in your tracks, turning back to him with a smirk. “Well, my bad. I just wanted to spend as much time with my boyfriend as possible,” you reply, and Chenle ducks his head as blush covers his face. Though, with one gentle squeeze of your hand, he’s the one now pulling you out of the ice cream parlor and towards the car to go back home. 

As always, the two of you started off with a game of horse. It’s typically how you would decide who gets first possession, though you’ve stopped seeing a point to it because Chenle wins every time. At least, that’s how it normally goes. Today, standing in Chenle’s driveway, it was you who was crushing Chenle in horse. With you still at ‘h’ and Chenle just tacking on an ‘s,’ you let out a laugh. “I thought you weren’t taking it easy on me,” you taunt, and Chenle whips his head in your direction seriously. 

“I’m not!”

You raise your eyebrows at him as you move to take the ball from his hands and shoot your next shot. “Okay well then, whoever you are, can you go get Chenle back for me?” You ask, turning back to him after successfully making it. “I miss him. He’s your height, looks kinda like you, is good at basketball-” You tease, and Chenle cuts you off as he turns fire red, grabbing the basketball and readying himself to shoot from where you just did.

“I’m good at basketball!” He argues before taking his next shot…and missing. He turns around to meet your raised eyebrows and groans. “A game of horse doesn’t even matter! All it means is that you start off our actual game.” 

You shake your head at his antics as he picks up the basketball and passes it to you because somehow, you had first possession today. These ‘actual’ games were where you tended to perform better, but it was the same for Chenle of course, so you still typically only took one out of every twenty games from him. 

Though, it seemed Chenle’s poor performance in horse did nothing to actually warm him up, because his game performance was no better - possibly worse. You watched as the famed Lele Curry missed every shot he took, acting as though nothing happened every time he retrieved the ball for you. You wait until he misses an easy layup before finally shaking your head at him from the other side of the driveway. 

“Lele, come kiss me,” you say plainly, and Chenle immediately stops in his tracks as he turns towards you. 

“WHAT? Wh- wha- why?” He fumbles out through something of a shocked yell, getting you to just roll your eyes at him playfully. 

“Cause I have a feeling it’s gonna get you your basketball skills back,” you reply with raised eyebrows, greatly contrasting Chenle’s furrowed ones as he looks back at you in question.

“Huh?” He gets out, causing your shoulders to bounce up and down lightly with a small chuckle. 

You look up to face him fondly, the teasing lilt out of your tone. “Look, we’re dating now, we just talked about affection, it’s on your mind and messing with your game, so you should come kiss me and get it over with,” you state as though it were no big thing. It was a big thing to Chenle though, because he just learned you could read his mind. Of course he was thinking about kissing you, it was all he could think about - you were you, after all, and Chenle really really liked you. 

You watch as his adam’s apple bobs up and down with a hesitant swallow, but as he looks back up at you, the tension in his shoulders falls. He crosses the driveway to end up directly in front of you. Slowly, his right hand comes up to cup the side of your face, an action that you easily smile into, and Chenle takes a moment to run his thumb over your puffed out cheek as his nervous gaze runs over every inch of your face. “I don’t know how to kiss but- but I promise I’ll do it just right if you let me.”

“Chenle…”

“May I?” He asks quietly once his eyes finally fall to your lips.

You nod your head, caught off guard for a breathless moment at the recognition of this softer, shyer side of Chenle. You had kissed a few guys throughout high school, but you knew he hadn’t kissed anyone before. Once the two of you found out his marriage was arranged, he gave up completely on high school relationships or flings, and meanwhile you tried to kiss as many guys as possible in an attempt to get your mind off of it. None of them ever meant anything, but this one did, and Chenle knew it, too. He wanted to do everything right, but he didn’t even know what ‘right’ was, and any time he didn’t know what he was doing, he fell shyer, more hesitant, always so uncomfortable with unknowns that he tried to just slip away instead. He hardly let you see this side of him because he always wanted to present his best self; but he was soft with you now, because he cared enough about you to admit he was clueless - that the thought of kissing you made his head spin but it wasn’t even something he could truly picture. 

“You may,” you answer softly, and Chenle slowly leans into you. 

It started out as the lightest kiss in the world, a kind of gentleness almost uncharacteristic of your best friend if you didn’t know all his layers already. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips, but you refuse to break so quickly; so instead, you pin your focus on deepening the kiss - pressing back into him, establishing a healthy rhythm sucking on his bottom lip. Chenle’s hand that wasn’t cupping your face soon flies to your waist as he begins to match your pace. As he got more comfortable with the feeling of his lips against yours, he got more desperate for it. You figure standing in the driveway of his house is not where you should teach him how to use his tongue, so with one last soft kiss, you break away.

Your gaze instantly falls to the ground beneath your feet, a cheesy grin across your face that you try to cover up. “See, now you’ve kissed me. Nothing else is going to be as scary as that,” you say playfully. “Now you’re good. You can kiss me whenever you want. Alternatively, you never have to kiss me again if that’s what you want-” You immediately cut off your words as you finally bring your gaze up to make eye contact with Chenle, only to realize he’s staring at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging slightly open. “What’s that look for?” You ask, suddenly worried you did something wrong.

Chenle shakes his head in an attempt to gather his thoughts, mouth opening and closing in hesitation as he looks you up and down. “Um, I like you…a lot. Like, a lot,” he says as though he were out of breath. The wide grin comes back to your face as you let out a fond laugh.

“Ha! That’s for another time,” you promise, instead bending down to pick the basketball up from the ground and place it in his hands. “Now turn around and shoot,” you continue, nodding your head towards the basket behind him. He does as asked, turning around and not even taking a moment to regain his footing before shooting and immediately making a nothing-but-net basket. You drop your face back to the pavement with a knowing nod. Then, you walk the one step back to meet him again and place a soft kiss on his cheek. “There’s my Chenle,” you claim softly, and watch as his ears turn a deep shade of red. 

Biting on his bottom lip, he shakes his head, unable to say anything in response. Instead, he moves to grab the basketball again, passing it to you since he just scored, and you know you’re about to get your ass kicked in pickup basketball. 

That was, in fact, exactly what happened. The only difference between this and the games that occurred before you started dating, is that now throughout the game, Chenle would sometimes turn around after making a basket and tell you a play that good deserved a kiss. You would roll your eyes every time but you always obliged - each soft, casual, ‘proud of you’ peck leaving Chenle with the biggest grin on his face.

Your pickup game finally ended when his aunt got back from work, forcing you both out of the driveway but more importantly, breaking the two of you apart from your quick kiss as you scramble into the grass. As she pulls into the garage and turns off the car, she steps out to meet you two still on the side of the driveway. “Well, something’s certainly changed in the time I’ve been at work, hasn’t it?” She says with a playful smirk. You and Chenle drop your heads in unison, but his aunt just lets out a warm laugh, nodding her head towards the door. “Come on, kids. I’ll make us dinner.” 

Matching smiles spread across your faces as you rush to follow her inside. As she started cooking, you and Chenle did whatever you could to help around the house where needed, but eventually you were told to just sit and rest a while as opposed to crowding the kitchen and making things more difficult. So, TV remote now in hand, you leaned into Chenle on the couch and he hooked both arms over you instantaneously.

Chenle’s arms around you, the smell of home-cooked dinner, and a basketball game on the TV, there was something so natural about it - as though Chenle’s arms have been around you your entire life, as though you’d have them around you, to come home to, for the rest of time. You knew the idea of it would never be true in the long run, but right now it was as real as it could get - and the second you could convince yourself to simply exist in the present, that fact was enough to make everything okay. You’re sure Chenle could feel it, because at the very same time that peace crashed over your body, Chenle squeezed you slightly tighter to him, placing a small kiss to the top of your head before resuming his task of acting super nonchalant about having you in his arms. 

The two of you explained everything to his aunt over dinner, and any disheartening thought she may have had about the situation, she kept to herself. You all had collectively gone through that song and dance all those years prior when the news of Chenle’s arranged marriage first broke. She knew you didn’t need to hear that speech again. Instead, she smiled warmly, claiming that if any two people deserved to be happy together, even for just a little while, it was you guys. 

You excused yourself after dinner, figuring it was probably time for you to head home since you haven’t seen your parents all day. Chenle immediately stood from the table with you, gently lacing his fingers with yours and leading you to the door. “I’ll walk you home,” he says casually, but you just shake your head at him.

“Lele, I live right across the street. It doesn’t even take twenty seconds for me to get home,” you reply playfully. Chenle just squeezes your hand in his slightly tighter, and when he speaks again, it’s much more somber in tone.

“Three months, y/n. I’ll take a few more seconds anywhere I can get them,” he states quietly, and his words seem to have hollowed you out so that all you can do is nod your head. Chenle smiles at your acceptance before getting hit with another thought and immediately pausing. “Oh, wait!” He exclaims as you take the first step out his front door.

You turn back around to face him in question, watching as he runs through the house before coming back into view with a hoodie in his arms. “For you,” he says with a bright smile as he holds out the hoodie for you to take. You just raise your brows at him with a smirk.

“Chenle, it’s summer. What am I gonna need a hoodie for?” You ask playfully in return, though your traces of banter didn’t reach Chenle, and instead every feature on his face falls into a pout. You let out a fond laugh at the sight of it, moving towards him to take the hoodie from his arms with a light kiss on his cheek. You immediately slip it over your head, and the sheer comfort of it answered your question of what you were gonna do with a hoodie in the summer - wear it any chance you got. You look back at Chenle, who was stuck staring at you in his hoodie as though you were a goddess. You just pray your face doesn’t show too flustered in the moonlight and grab his hand to actually start on the walk across the street.

As you get to your front door, Chenle tightens his grip on your hand to pull you back some more, now just standing idly on your front porch. You study his figure curiously, watching as he tosses around thoughts in his head so loud you could almost hear them. His gaze eventually falls to the ground but he finally finds his voice.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be great at ever telling you how I feel. It’s hard for me to articulate anything even closely related to feelings. There’s so much in my head but I don’t know how to tell you everything…how much you mean to me. But if today taught me anything, I’m much more comfortable with showing you how I feel. That doesn’t seem as foreign to me for some reason. I can show you how I feel - I want to. I hope it gets across, though. I hope you know every time we kiss…” He drags off, and his eyebrows immediately furrow in irritation that this was just another example of him struggling to put his feelings into words.

You give a fond shake of your head as you stare back at him. “Chenle,” you let out softly, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand, still intertwined with yours. 

He finally looks back up at you with resolve. “What I’m trying to say is that if one day, you get fed up with all my emotions being expressed physically rather than verbally, I can stop. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I don’t have to kiss you all the time. I can try- I can try to…I can-” This time, he’s cut off by your lips on his, and he melts right into the kiss.

When you finally pull back, you place a hand on his cheek, nodding your head lightly. “It gets across, lele. Everything you’re feeling, it gets across. It’s never gonna be too much; we have a lot of time to make up for, I know. So, whenever you want to kiss me, I want to kiss you.”

In return, Chenle gives the most bashful smile you’ve ever seen. He moves a hand up to guide your own back down from his cheek before studying the way your two hands fit with each other so naturally. All hands were meant to be interlaced with another, he thought, but his were specifically made for yours. You look at his soft features with a grin, squeezing his hand gently in yours and getting him to train his eyes back on you in a rush. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says surely, causing you to laugh some before nodding your head. 

“See you tomorrow,” you softly return as he takes the first few steps back towards his house. You stand and watch until he finally reaches his own front door; turning back around to see you still outside, he gives an exaggerated wave in your direction, and you didn’t need to see the huge smile on his face to know it was there. You move your hand up slightly to wave back to him, hoping the yellow street light wasn’t enough to illuminate the clarity that had immediately washed over you as you clocked that you only had three months left of his exaggerated waves and huge smiles - the butterflies that had occupied your stomach all day were no match for the void that made its presence known now. A heavy breath escapes you as he finally turns the knob and enters his house, leaving you with nothing left to do but the same.

As soon as you opened the door, the change in atmosphere was striking. The warmth of your parents’ laughter filled the kitchen as they were cleaning up from their own dinner, your dog entirely too wound up as he jumped around waiting for teased scraps from your father’s plate. The pit in your stomach didn’t go away, but instead became more pronounced as another strange feeling added to it. Your parents had much longer than three months to be together; you wondered if they could fathom it - if they could ever wrap their heads around the amount of love shared between the two of them throughout all these years. You wondered if you would ever be able to wrap your head around the idea of loving someone that many years, knowing it wouldn’t be Chenle on the receiving end of it. You hated remembering why the two of you originally promised not to get involved with each other - you hated that those reasons made more sense than ever.

You didn’t realize the door practically slammed shut behind you until the rest of the house fell quiet in response. Your mom makes eye contact with you in the front entryway before smiling brightly and returning to the dishes. “Hey, sweetie! Were you over at Chenle’s?”

Her question is coated with a smile and all you can do is start rambling to try and fight off the nauseous feeling that arose in response. “Guys, I made a really stupid decision and I know it’s stupid so I don’t need you to tell me again and I really don’t need you to be pessimistic about it because it won’t help.” You speed through your words in an instant and the look on your parents’ faces completely flip as they drop what they’re doing to go meet you still by the front door.

“Y/n, what happened?” Your dad asks in a panic, and you figure the vagueness of your statement meant they were currently assuming a lot worse than it was. You shake your head, but it doesn’t do much to dismiss their worry until you follow it up with words.

“Chenle asked me to be his girlfriend,” you spit out, and the tension in their shoulders drops at once.

“And you said ‘yes,’” your mom softly finishes in your place. You shoot your gaze up to her, bringing their notice to the tears in your eyes as you respond weakly.

“I couldn’t say ‘no.’”

Your mom lets out a fond sigh, nodding her head as she throws an understanding smile in your direction. “I know,” she replies, coming up to wrap you in a hug where you finally let yourself bawl your eyes out.

“We only have three months to be together but- but we wanted to be together,” you explain as firmly as you could through tears. “And we should’ve just pressed on these three months like we have our whole lives, I know it’s stupid-”

“Y/n, it’s not stupid,” your mom cuts in seriously. You lean slightly out of the hug to make shaky eye contact with her, then darting your gaze off to meet the encouraging look your dad bore and only getting more confused. You pull back from the hug entirely, now doing your best to collect yourself again so you could have a real conversation.  

“I’m gonna be really hurt three months from now, and it’s not Chenle’s fault, it’s mine-” You could only be mad at yourself for so long before your mom cuts you off again. 

“It’s not your fault. Sometimes, what makes a decision seem stupid is that there’s no one to blame for its consequences. It’s not gonna be your fault, nor Chenle’s…and it’s weird when you don’t have someone to blame.” Your mom was always the voice of reason, but you figure this time she was taking the same approach that Chenle’s aunt did. The inevitability of you and Chenle was the least of her worries. Her main goal was to keep you from jumping off the ledge before you could even enjoy it. 

“I think Chenle blames his parents,” you rebuttal thoughtfully, and your dad just lets out a laugh before he responds more sincerely.

“Yes, but I think he hates his parents enough for the all of us, so we shouldn’t add to it.” Chenle’s disdain for his parents was more than evident, and your own parents never had the nicest things to say about them either - even though they kept their thoughts to themselves, you knew it. There wasn’t a single person in the suburb who understood where Chenle’s parents were coming from; with the quality of life being so starkly different, you figure no one ever would. The sucky thing was, you knew Chenle’s parents were thinking the same thing about you all, and it’s why everyone but Chenle has kept their opinion to themselves - it wasn’t worth it to do otherwise, an understanding could never be made between two different worlds. 

You take in his words with a flash of your eyebrows but eventually let out a heavy sigh. “...he shouldn’t hate his parents,” you admit solemnly, thinking of your own family and wondering how heartbreaking it would be for both sides if you viewed them the way Chenle views his.

Your father ducks his head, his thoughts running parallel to yours. “No, but that’s not for us to worry about. I’m just glad you don’t hate yours,” he says with a smile, and you finally move your gaze back up towards your parents, three pairs of uncertain eyes exchanging thousands of emotions between them.

“Is everything gonna be okay?” You finally ask, your voice much weaker than you would have liked. Your mom shakes her head in mystery, a thin-lipped smile giving its best attempt at comfort.

“I don’t know, but was today okay?” She asks in return.

“Yes,” you answer immediately, but then your face turns more contemplative and you shake your head. “No- it was so much better than ‘okay’ you wouldn’t even understand.” Your words come out coated in fondness. You figured it was the first step towards realizing how bittersweet these next three months with Chenle were going to be, how nostalgic you would soon feel for memories you were in the middle of making. 

Your mom’s smile widens at your words as she moves to brush over your cheek with her hand, ensuring the two of you make eye contact as she gives the only advice she thinks she can at this point. “Then let’s try not to worry about if everything’s gonna be okay in the future, and focus on the fact that everything is so much better than okay right now,” she says softly, leaving you nodding your head against her hold. It eventually falls into a tight hug before you get embarrassed and excuse yourself to make your way to your room for the night. 

It was a few hours later when your parents walked in to say goodnight. Your dad went first and then waited at the doorway as your mom took her moment to kiss the top of your head and bid you goodnight. Before she could take a full step away, though, you caught her hand in yours. Her face whipped back around to meet your soft, wavering gaze. “He kissed me today.” Your tone made it sound as though you had a million thoughts in your mind, but it was clear not even one would manifest itself into more words right away. Your parents both give a warm grin, and as your dad leaves from your doorframe to let the two of you have a moment, your mom joins you sitting on top of your bed.

“Yeah?” She encourages softly. All you can do is nod before frustration reaches the surface and you end up shaking your head decidedly.

“Mom, I don’t want to kiss another guy ever again,” you say, looking up to make sincere eye contact with her. “I want it to always be Chenle,” you continue firmly, and your mom just lets out a defeated sigh.

“For three months, it will be,” she says with a weak smile, trying her best to bring any sense of hope to the situation. 

You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth, both coming to terms with the situation and not being able to believe it all at once. “And that has to be enough. How do I make that be enough?” You ask helplessly, the sight of you torn up like this chipping away at your mom’s heart.

“I don’t know, but you’ll figure it out,” she replies, and you figure that’s all anyone would be able to say to that. These are your circumstances, and regardless of if it feels unfair, all you can do is the best you can do; spending these three months trying to resolve a grief that hasn’t even hit you yet was definitely not your best course of action. With the smallest of laughs that still comes across as jarring in the fragile moment, your mom speaks up again. “I would say you could kiss him like every time will be the last, but I can’t have you sucking his face off…his parents would not be thrilled about that,” she teases, and you’re finally able to crack a smile as well.

With one last kiss to the top of your head, your mom gets up and heads towards your door again. “Remember,” she says, turning back over her shoulder to look at you. “Today was really really good. Tomorrow will be, too; and the day after that…and the day after that. So, no stress for at least the next three days, okay?” 

Your smile widens on your lips at the silly promise, but it did its job in removing what felt like the entire weight of the world from your shoulders. “Okay.” Then, with one last smile, your mom was out the door.

The next week was spent with you and Chenle not seeing more than an hour of separation from each other unless you were sleeping. Though you couldn’t say this for anyone else you hang out with, you never got tired of Chenle, never oversaturated from his energy; so, spending all this time together was hardly a task - it was just how you were meant to be. You think Chenle held the secret to it all along, the reason you never got tired of each other - though you doubted he was even aware of it, every time he looked your way, it seemed to be with a fresh set of eyes, like it was the first time he’d ever laid eyes on you. You could see it in the glaze of softness that took over his stare for a millisecond. How could you ever tire of each other when every glance gave the illusion of no time having passed at all. The only problem you could anticipate is how shocking it would be when these three months were up, if each passing day still consisted of the butterflies from the first.

It was at the end of this first week when your mom lingered in your room while saying goodnight to you again. You eyed her curiously as she sat down on your bed rather than the typical lean-over to kiss the top of your head. She gives a small laugh as she meets your gaze, then starts her words with a light sigh.

“Y/n, your dad and I have been talking,” she begins, and the color drains from your face.

“Uh oh,” you reply, unsure of whatever it is they came up with but knowing it typically never boded well for you.

At this, she laughs again, shaking her head with a grin. “No, it’s nothing bad. It’s just-” she breaks off, looking as though she couldn’t believe what she was about to say, and once you heard her words, you understood the look on her face completely. “We know how this is gonna go. You guys are eighteen year olds who like each other a lot, the situation only made more dire because there’s a strict end date. We figure you’re gonna want each other as your first time, right? So, just please be safe about it, okay?” She moves to make eye contact with you again, seemingly proud with how she articulated everything, meaning she’s completely surprised to see your jaw dropped.

“Wait, what?!” The volume of your voice jars even you, but you could not believe her words. “Are you telling me you and dad came to the decision that Chenle and I could have sex?! Me?” You question, pointing up at yourself as though your mom didn’t know who she was addressing. “Your daughter? Permission to have sex with Chenle?” At your crazed tone, your mom just lets out another small laugh and a shrug, morphing the atmosphere into something much more chill than you could imagine.

“I mean, you’re eighteen,” she replies nonchalantly, only getting you to gawk at her some more.

“I’m like- still a kid to you guys!” You shoot back, remembering how many times the idea of that played into their many rules for you - curfew during high school is 10:00 but hey, that first summer once you’ve graduated, go crazy, it seems!

Your mom tosses the concept of you being a kid around in her head before returning her gaze to you with a slight smirk teasing at her features. “Eh, I lost mine at, uh- well...younger than you, so eighteen’s honestly looking pretty good.”

“What?!” You exclaim again, this piece of lore about your mom baffling you more than anything else you’ve heard tonight.

You watch as she winces, reliving the truth of what she just said, but her eyebrows eventually raise as she turns to you with a cheeky grin to contrast her serious gaze. “Yeah, don’t tell your father about that one. I’m pretty sure he thinks I lost it at nineteen…” She drags off, and you let out your first laugh of the night.

“I can’t believe this,” you say, and your mom’s smile meets your own as she shakes her head and continues with her actual point.

“Look, some people see being eighteen and an ‘adult’ as a reason to never need their parents’ permission for anything ever again. So, I’m glad that you still want our approval for certain things but, here it is. Just be safe and we’re good,” she says casually, and you just drop your head with a laugh of disbelief.

“Okay-” you begin with a nod, but your words are cut off as your mom seems to light up with another thought.

“Oh! Just please do all that when we aren’t home. Your father and I do not need to-” She cuts herself off abruptly but continues to open and close her mouth as if searching for words to describe exactly what her and your dad don’t need to be around to hear, but you just nod your head with another laugh.

“Okay, okay, I got it. Don’t worry,” you conclude, finally motioning for her to let it go and actually bid you goodnight. With a laugh, she relents, walking out of your room and leaving you completely bewildered…and with news to tell Chenle when you see him tomorrow.

However, when you did see Chenle the next day, the conversation with your mom was the last thing on your mind because your little romantic surprised you with a date to the zoo, saying that you had to go right away before it gets too hot and all the animals hide in the shade of their habitats.

The first hour of the zoo experience was completely normal - snow cones that turned your hands into a sticky mess, which Chenle refused to let you wash off right away because he kept sticking your hands together and pulling them apart again with the biggest smile on his face; and then walking around the entire place actually holding hands, splitting your conversation between genuine facts about the animals and trying to see who could get the other to believe the craziest lie they could come up with at the time.

It was when you were at the prairie dog habitat that things took a turn. You and Chenle were reading the fact sheet when you heard the little girl next to you ask her mom what was happening with the animals. You whip your head back up to see the prairie dogs in a compromising position and immediately hit Chenle on the shoulder to get him to whip his head up as well. The two of you try your best to hold in laughter as the parents with younger children rushed to find another animal habitat to keep their child entertained with. That was when memories of last night came flooding back to you and you turn to face Chenle in an instant.

“Oh, hey! You know my parents said they’re chill with us having sex,” you say quietly enough so that just Chenle could pick up on your words. Expecting a reaction similar to yours when first hearing the news, you were stunned to see that when Chenle turned his head over towards you, his face was completely flat aside from his raised brows.

“So, what are ya thinking? You wanna drop down right here and do it?” He asks neutrally, beginning to eye the floor before scrunching his nose and looking around for a better spot.

“Chenle!” You gawk, and all it takes is one look at your exasperated face before he finally falls into a bout of laughter.

“I’m kidding, princess. God, who do you take me for?” He jokes with a disappointed shake of his head. Though, as you calm down with your own dramatic eye roll, he slips his hand into yours again, bringing them up to kiss the back of yours before dragging you off towards another habitat. 

Hand-in-hand, the two of you walked around the rest of the zoo before heading out for a casual dinner. It wasn’t until Chenle was dropping you off at your front door that, in an effort to keep you in front of him a little longer, he remembered the topic he probably shouldn’t have just dismissed earlier in the day. “Oh, hey, before you go,” he starts, and you instantly remove your hand from the door knob to turn back around towards him. He makes serious eye contact with you as he continues. “About what you said at the zoo-” 

You raise your brows with a grin but he shakes his head as soon as he spots your smile. “Not the part about all elephants being recognized as ordained ministers,” he clarifies, and you can’t help the small laugh as you remember your attempts at animal facts today. “But about us,” he continues seriously. “If I want anyone to be my first, it’s you, but I don’t wanna rush into it just because we’ve been told we can. I mean- I just got used to being able to kiss you and hold your hand-”

“And call me princess,” you add with a smirk, not letting him get away with the new pet name that easily. Chenle drops his head bashfully.

“Yeah, and call you princess…” he echos, falling more thoughtful with each word. “And I wanna be able to relish that a bit more before- well.” He shakes his head, getting frustrated at how poorly he was able to articulate everything on his mind. “I wanna be able to be there,” he finally says with resolve, looking back up to make eye contact with you again before continuing. “Be present…and if I still can’t fathom the fact that I get to kiss you right now, I don’t want to try and wrap my head around even more,” he finally concludes with something of an embarrassed laugh to try and lighten the atmosphere that only he thought needed lightening. You just smile sweetly back at him. 

“I get it, lele. Hey, I wasn’t the one suggesting we drop to the floor and do it in front of the prairie dog habitat,” you remind him, causing him to face the ground again as he lets out an actual laugh at his own past actions. When you pick your words back up, it’s with sincerity. “If one of us isn’t ready, then nothing’s happening. I’m good to take it slow. We wanted to do this right, yeah?”

Chenle nods his head as he lets out a sigh of relief, as though he expected the two of you to not be on the same page for the first time in thirteen years. Though, when he looks back up at you, it’s with a firm smile. “Yeah.”

You shake your head at it all, your smile alone revealing how endearing you found him despite your best efforts to keep it hidden. You press up on your tip-toes and lightly kiss the top of his nose before moving down to catch his lips easily with yours. “Goodnight, Chenle,” you say once you finally pull back. Chenle’s face is as red as ever, and you knew he wasn’t kidding when he said he still can’t fathom the fact that he gets to kiss you.

“Goodnight, princess,” he replies in kind, getting your own face to flush as he turns to walk the few steps across the street to his house.

A few more dates and countless pickup basketball games later, and it was already the one month anniversary of the day Chenle paced around your front porch and begged you to forget about what’s happening in just two months now. Knowing Chenle, and how much he loved spending his parents’ money while he wasn’t under their rule, you were half expecting him to greet you today in a suit and take you out to the fanciest restaurant he could find. Instead, Chenle barged in through your front door that afternoon with something much less proper on his mind. “Y/n, it’s been a month,” he points out, and you turn your head to face him from where you sat on the couch.

“Yeah?” You acknowledged, waiting to see where he was going with this.

“I think we should have sex,” he states plainly, and you throw your head back with a laugh before you can even think about it.

“Just like that, huh?” You tease, looking over at him once again with a huge grin, not at all as serious about this proposal as he was.

He puts his hands out awkwardly, as if making sure you stayed put and would hear him out. “Look, I’ve been doing a lot of reading on the subject-” he begins, and you cut him off with another laugh of disbelief.

“Oh, I’m sure you have,” you joke, finally up on your feet and rounding the couch so you could stand face-to-face with him.

He shakes his head in the meantime, a look of annoyance on his face, all overwritten by a huge grin because it was you he was annoyed at. “Shut up,” he quipped with his own small laugh before continuing with as much seriousness as he could. “What I’m saying is, I think I could make it the best day of your life.”

Your eyebrows shoot up immediately, and it’s hard to keep the tease in your voice when the rest of your face betrays you with a huge smile. “Oh, yeah? Well, I’m sure with all your nerdy research, you’re practically a pro by now.” Chenle opens his mouth to bark out some confirmative response, or more likely beg you to stop with the teasing. Though, before he can do any of that, you just shake your head, grabbing his hand in yours and, with the knowledge that both of your parents were still at work for the next few hours, easily guiding him to your bedroom without a second thought. “Come on, big head.”

Chenle smiled brightly at the back of your head as he followed you up the stairs. “I’m so lucky,” he responds, the sarcasm not doing any good at covering up how much he genuinely meant that statement…if only Chenle knew how lucky he made you feel. 

Ever since then, it became clear that sex with you was going to consistently stay at the forefront of Chenle’s mind. He was absolutely obsessed with the opportunity to know you more than he already did after the first thirteen years of memorizing you as his best friend. Each curve of your body was something sacred for him, and he took every chance he could get to indulge in it some more. Two weeks after your first time, Chenle met you at your front door with the same gleam in his eyes as ever. 

“Hey, baby,” you say, leaning in to quickly kiss him before moving back so he could actually step inside your house. “What do you wanna do today?”

“Sex!” He immediately answers, his tone as though he were a kid asking for candy. You drop your head with a small laugh.

“Not today, lele,” you reply, and Chenle’s brows shoot up in question, though the playfulness is still coating his every move.

“Was my approach wrong? Let’s go from the top, I’ll make my words more sophisticated,” he jokes with a smirk.

You finally give a solemn shake of your head. “No, Chenle.”

His demeanor immediately shifts as he falls into concern. “Okay, what’s wrong?” He asks, placing his hand softly on your cheek so he can guide your eyes back to his own. You meet his worried eyes and immediately dart your gaze away again, laughing softly in embarrassment. 

“Nothing. I just started my period today,” you explain, and Chenle immediately lets out a sigh of relief as you watch understanding wash over his figure. You pick up at the end of his sigh and continue with your answer. “My cramps are always the worst on day one.”

Once sure you weren’t breaking up with him nor banning him from ever fucking you again, he easily slips back into his usual manner with you; in this case, instantly getting on your ass. “Why didn’t you tell me?! I would’ve brought over your favorite snacks and your microwavable stuffed animal you always keep at my place and-”

You cut him off, shaking your head with a small smile. “I don’t need all that, though. I just wanna be with you.”

Chenle renders completely still for a moment. For a man who seemed to struggle with words, yours always ended up hitting him right on. He moves to instead wrap you in a tight hug, a contrasting gentle kiss placed on the top of your head as he just held you there for a moment. He finally moves to instead kiss your cheek and pull back a bit. “Movie night, then?” He suggests lightly.

You flash a soft grin in his direction, eyebrows raising as you stare back at him. “Will you hold me the whole time?” You ask seriously in return. Chenle rolls his lips inwards to hide his smile, though he can’t hide the light dusting of pink now covering his cheeks and tips of his ears. 

“Is that even a question?” His banter back is ruined by the sheer softness of it. Your grin widens as you grab his hand and lead him towards the couch in the living room. You lean into him easily and he doesn’t think twice before pulling you even closer, holding you even tighter, as your favorite movie begins playing in front of you. “We’re watching the Steph Curry documentary after this, just so you know,” Chenle suddenly speaks up, a faint laugh in his tone - a strange vocalic considering he was completely serious, but you realize it’s his attempt to be softer with you right now, figuring you had it bad enough with your cramps that you didn’t need his bluntness on top of it. 

“I’m pretty sure we can both quote the entire documentary by now,” you banter back with a disinterested groan. Chenle looks over at you by his side with a playful gleam in his eyes.

“Exactly! Which means we have to watch it one more time to really make sure.”

You roll your eyes at him but relent without another word; you still had an hour and a half of the first movie anyways. 

It was a little over two hours later when your parents got home from work to find the two of you seemingly in conversation, only to realize the movie in front of you had no sound and it was just you and Chenle switching back and forth quoting each line - neither of you cutting the other a break should there be a moment of hesitation…so half of the script was recounted in between laughs and over the other’s teasing. Needless to say, once the Curry documentary started, there had been significantly less cuddles than before, but your cramps, however painful they may have been, were the last thing on your mind. It was only when you sat down for dinner that reality came flooding back over you, suddenly making it hard to sit down again. Trying not to focus on the pain, you instead thought about how pain-free the past few hours have been. You hated that Chenle knew what would work so well…you hated that he wouldn’t always be here to make it work again. 

After dinner, your parents made their way out back to enjoy the firepit and calm night. You and Chenle found yourselves back on the couch, this time old cartoons you used to watch during childhood taking up space on the TV rather than movies. You cuddled into him easily, and he did his best to love on you enough to make the pain go away again.

When your parents finally came back inside, the TV was still running but you and Chenle were asleep against each other, his arms wrapped around you protectively as the two of you shifted so that you were laying down on top of his figure rather than just leaning against his shoulder. Your parents just let out light sighs, sad smiles covering their faces as your dad turned off the TV and your mom laid a blanket over the two of you before texting Chenle’s aunt and letting her know that Chenle wouldn’t be making his way back across the street tonight. They weren’t sure if they were feeding the beast by letting the two of you spend the night together, but it was too hard on their hearts to impose a future reality when you guys were so at home living in the present. 

The morning sun eventually made its way through the windows to disrupt the darkness of your unconscious state. Still refusing to open your eyes, you just turn your head so that you're facing away from the window. Though, that’s when a hand lightly trails through your hair to move it away from your face, and you realize you’re still against Chenle’s chest. At once, you blink awake, and when you move your gaze to look at Chenle, you can hear the snap of silence as his breath gets caught in his throat. He shakes out of it with a smile, once again running his fingers through your hair as he begins to speak softly. “God, I wanna wake up next to you for the rest of my life.”

Your face goes fire red and you immediately rush to bury it back in his chest. “Shut up,” you chide. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Because I need you to know that,” he responds in sincerity, kissing the top of your head since your face was still hidden. “I’ll always want it to be you.” His soft confession served to be one of the most reassuring and sweetest things you’ve ever heard, and you knew he meant it wholeheartedly. However, while warmth took over 98% of your body, there was the other 2% overcome with a certain uneasiness. With Chenle claiming that he would always want it to be you he wakes up next to, it was the first time you felt a sense of pity for the girl on the other end of this arranged marriage with Chenle, because while you could never be her, she would never be you.

You push the thought to the back of your mind, sure anyone around you would call you crazy for feeling pity for his future wife. Instead, you pick your head back up and press a light kiss to his lips, and just like that, 75% of the rest of summer nights and early mornings saw you and Chenle asleep against each other. 

All too soon, Chenle was accompanying your family as you moved into your college dorm. There was a week left before the first day of classes, and in between now and then, Chenle would have his fateful flight back to Shanghai. You had spent the past few nights crying yourself to sleep - well, if it wasn’t a night you and Chenle were spending together. All you wanted to do was be strong for him, your mind a constant loop of how sorry he looked as he asked to be selfish for the summer and indulge in his feelings. The last thing you wanted was for him to actually feel bad about it, to know how painful it truly was for you, when you knew he was going through the same thing himself. You didn’t need to add to the heavy weight on his shoulders imposed by almost every other figure in his life. So, you kept your tears to yourself. It wasn’t that hard anyways, being in Chenle’s presence meant a constant smile was on your face without ever having to think about it. 

Once all your things were put away and you could pass as ‘moved in,’ you stood opposite your parents in the doorway to your dorm as Chenle used the bathroom. With a few words and quite a bit more unspoken ones, your parents made themselves conscious of the time on their watch and then bid you goodbye for a bit. 

When Chenle came back out from the bathroom, he looked around for your parents, but his shoulders instantly fell once he failed to lay eyes on them. Instead, he turned to you in complete seriousness, pointing a thumb out to the side towards where your bed was as he looked at you with raised brows. “Can I be the first to fuck you on your dorm bed?” He asks plainly, and despite yourself, a loud laugh erupts from your chest.

“Chenle!” You chide, and the familiar big grin makes its way back across his lips.

“What? Isn’t that a thing?” He laughs off in question as though nothing were amiss. He quickly shakes his head, regaining his serious composure as he begins in his attempts at convincing you. “Regardless, I won’t get to experience it for myself so you should take pity on me. And I want this bed to be able to know me before any other college boy toy,” he states plainly, making you drop your head to hide the smile conjured up by his words.

“So glad you think that after you go back to China, I’ll resort to boy toys,” you shoot back monotonously. Chenle finally fumbles as he rushes to steer your mindset in a different direction.

“Okay, it came out wrong. That’s not what I meant,” he assures, but you stare back at him with raised, uninterested brows.

“Yes it was,” you reply immediately, but with the smallest peek of a smile from you, Chenle loses his tension again, ducking his head into his shoulders with a dumb laugh.

“I know.”

You shake your head at him to accompany the eye roll. “I hate you,” you say through a laugh, much to your dismay because you could not sell the bit to save your life. Chenle knew it, too, as he pops back up to look in your eyes with nothing but a tease behind his own. 

“So, that’s a no to fucking on your dorm bed?” He questions, making it seem as though that were your least desired possibility rather than his own. His mind games didn’t need to work, though, as you shake your head with a fond smile this time, taking a step towards him to kiss his lips softly.

“I already told my parents to explore the campus,” you admit, and Chenle’s kissed lips turn into a childish grin that he had to calm down from before he could even think about kissing you again. 

“Hmm…I think I like my bed better,” Chenle finally says, tossing your shirt back over to you as you both now sit up in your bed. You can’t help the laugh that escapes you at his words.

“Well, I would hope so,” you tease. “Yours is a King as opposed to this Twin.”

Chenle shakes his head, dismissing your banter as he responds with more contemplation than the situation called for. “No, I mean, the bigger bed is nice but I don’t think that’s it. I think this one is just a little too squeaky,” he concludes with resolve. All you can do is laugh, leaning over to place a fond kiss on his cheek.

“You had high standards for plastic-covered springs,” you joke as you pull back. Chenle looks over at you with raised brows.

“I have high standards in general. That’s why I like you,” he responds, and instead of letting yourself get embarrassed by how flustered that statement was about to make you, you nudge him in the side with a roll of your eyes. 

“Whatever. We both know I was too low maintenance for you to originally fathom,” you reply, and Chenle finally lets a huge smile break across his face.

“We were kids in a suburb and I came from money…there was a lot I couldn’t fathom,” he recounts seriously. You move your head to look over at him by your side, a soft smile on your lips as the playfulness behind your eyes begins fading to match it. 

“I’m glad you finally came around,” you start with sincerity. “The suburb will be sad to see you go.” 

Chenle lets out a heavy breath at your words, the weight of reality seeming to hit you both at the same time. He finally nods his head a little, not in agreement but something like contemplation. “Speaking of, I guess we should get back to it. Now that we moved you in, we have to move me out.” The words are bitter on his tongue. The two of you did an immensely good job at sticking to the present throughout this past summer, but now that the present involved the first steps of the dreaded future, it was hard to stay lighthearted. You did your best, though, responding with a faint laugh.

“Yeah, I’m sure my parents have just about exhausted every way they can keep themselves busy anyways,” you point out playfully, and Chenle finally seems to remember he’s still sitting shirtless in your bed. He looks over at you, realizing he’s the only one to have fallen behind on getting dressed again, and with a matching laugh, he begins to remedy that.

“I can’t believe how chill your parents are,” he replies with a bit of awe as he pulls his t-shirt over his body. 

You shake your head at him, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. “They’re not, they just like you.” Your reply is more serious again and Chenle swings his gaze your way with raised brows. You pull up your own to match, and a small smile plays on your lips as you continue. “If it was anyone else, they would’ve had me by the throat.”

Chenle takes in your cautious figure and furrows his brows, not at all seeing the consequences in the same light you were. “You like that, though,” he replies, nudging you in the side and getting the both of you to laugh. You shake your head, dropping it to cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. 

“Sometimes, I wish you had a filter,” you banter back, but when you uncover your face again to look over at Chenle, his demeanor had completely shifted, as though your laugh had reminded him that he didn’t know how many more times he would be able to hear it. 

“I’m sorry for having to leave,” he says miserably. “Your family has been so nice to me, all throughout childhood and now trusting me with you…” He drags off, his gaze moving across the bed beneath him and over to you, hair messy and lips slightly swollen from his kisses. He shakes his head. “Like this, and I’m just up and leaving.” You can tell he’s getting pissed at himself with every new word, but he doesn’t give you time to jump in right away. “I put you in a position where I knew you’d get hurt. I feel like an asshole.”

Gently, you bring both of your hands to cover over his own against his lap, and he turns his gaze your way at the contact, allowing you to see him physically break from his reverie and instead soften in your presence. “Chenle, you aren’t an asshole,” you reassure. “I knew what I was signing up for at the beginning of summer, and I told my parents exactly how this was going to go, too. No one blames you for having familial obligations. Not me and not my parents. They aren’t mad that you’re the reason my heart is gonna break in a few days, they’re just really really grateful you’ve been the reason behind the happiest three months of my life.” Your words carry enough weight, it was obvious that that’s truly how you viewed the situation. If possible, Chenle felt worse. He was the bad guy here, and you were reframing it for his benefit. He never felt like he deserved you, and had no clue how you managed to think otherwise for the past three months. 

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. You whip your head towards his face once you hear his shattered tone, and your lips part in disbelief. You always figured Chenle would be the strong one, but today’s proved to you that’s not the case. 

“Hey,” you start, rubbing a thumb beneath his eyes before his tears could fully roll down his cheeks, an accompanying fond laugh to cover over your own heartache. “Don’t get all sad on me now, we still have four days until you leave.” 

Chenle gives a weak smile, catching your hand with his own and bringing it from his eyes down to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to the back of your hand before shifting grips and giving it a tight squeeze. “Let’s go find your parents.” His voice cracks again as he speaks, and he’s finally able to let out an embarrassed laugh in response. You just nod your head, leaning over to grab your phone and find a well-timed text informing you they were waiting at a café on University Boulevard. So, with a onceover in the mirror to make sure the general public wouldn’t be able to tell you and Chenle just fucked, you led him out the door.

Once you got back home, you and Chenle hardly ever left each other’s sides…even less than normal. There was a shift ever since you moved most of your things to university, and everything started to feel a little more real as opposed to the way the rest of this summer felt like an escape from that reality. You both were running out of time, and you couldn’t do anything but be conscious of the fact. It affected Chenle the most, and you could tell from his first touch once the two of you got back. 

Up to now, sex with Chenle was a full-on activity. It was rough, hot, and passionate to say the least - he would fuck you. However, the last four days, the air had completely changed. Now all his movements were softer, slower. He was trying to memorize you. 

His eyes would become distant sometimes, and only he knew that it meant he was replaying the first day he met you - five-year-old him staring judgementally on the sidewalk out front of his aunt’s house as he watched you play with the water hose, getting messy for no reason and having the audacity to laugh with joy because of it. When you met his gaze, you motioned for him to come join you, to which he adamantly shook his head and decided he was never making friends with the kids on the block. However, as he turned around to go back inside, figuring some basketball could wait until all the messy kids were gone, cold water hit his back in a sensation that had him whipping around again. His first thought was to start spouting Chinese words that he heard his parents say sometimes after they got off business calls with ‘imbeciles of clients,’ but instead as he laid eyes on you, just a few feet away now, with a water gun in your hands and the brightest of joys in your eyes, he forgot all his words. All he knew was that he wanted to be friends with the kids on the block. Though, not even that, he just wanted to be friends with you. He swore in that moment you outshone the sun, and he wanted in on your warmth.

If Chenle knew then what he did at fourteen, he’s not sure he would’ve ever allowed himself to get close to you. However, if he knew then what he did now at eighteen, closer to you than he’s ever been, he’s positive he’d go through this heartbreak a thousand times if it meant he got to love you even once, and he wouldn’t have waited so damn long to love you in the first place. 

The last day - the last time, the distant look in Chenle’s eyes wasn’t there at all. Instead, it was filled with non-stop whispered words of how much you meant to him, how much he adored you; his voice occasionally catching in his throat when he got too sentimental, and you’d be reminded of how hard it was for him to articulate his thoughts at all; so all you could think to do was pull him down for a kiss and swallow his words instead. 

Then you blinked and it was already the day of Chenle’s departure. Your parents had been outside most of the morning helping Chenle and his aunt load the car up with his things. You took no part in it. Instead, you sat in your room, hugging your knees and staring blankly. The only tell that you weren’t frozen was the fact that you were chewing on your bottom lip, truthfully destroying it, but it was the only thing you could think to do to ground yourself at the time. 

With a light knock on the door, your mom enters your bedroom and you move your head up to meet her gaze. “Chenle’s sitting outside. We got him all packed up and everything.”

You swallow harshly and your eyes immediately find your knees again. “I know,” you reply shortly, your voice hardly above a whisper.

A sad smile crossed your mom’s face, but when she saw you making no effort to move in response to her words, she let out a sigh. “Sitting in your room doesn’t stop time.” Her words come out flat, like a lecture, and you knew she was trying to juggle how to be both, a ray of comfort and an authority figure. “You still have to say goodbye.”

You shake your head to dismiss the bit of worry held in her tone as she gave you orders. She didn’t have to walk on eggshells around you, it was that you were the one mentally walking on eggshells around your heart. “I’m just trying to keep my emotions from running high,” you say monotonously, finally looking up at her. You watch her eyes widen as she notices the glaze of tears over your own, and shake your head again in frustration before dropping it back down to your lap. “The last thing he needs is to have to leave while I’m in tears. He’ll never want to go.”

Your mom rolls her lips inward, and suddenly she understands why you’ve taken solace in tearing up your own bottom lip before she walked in. Though, with a sigh, she speaks again with her best attempt at unbiased advice. “He already doesn’t want to go - but the fact of the matter is that when you look back on this moment days, months, years later, you’ll want to have said ‘goodbye.’” You shake your head immediately, she was wrong.

“No. I don’t ever want to say ‘goodbye’ to Chenle,” you claim with more force than you thought yourself capable of in such a fragile moment. You glance up to watch the outsider persona she tried to create instead fall away, and she just went back to being your mom.

She fumbled with her thoughts for a few moments, mouth opening and closing again as she shook away everything she didn’t want to say. Finally, she presses her lips to form a thin line, and then is immediately turning around to walk back out of your door. “You can wish him luck, then, but you need to go see him.” As her words come out, straightforward and not open for debate, you realize why she started walking away as she delivered them, because she wouldn’t have been able to face you and give such orders. Her words were still not what you needed to hear, and you both knew that, but she had to exert some authority and get you to at least do what seemed best in the long run; you figure that’s why it was hard for you to take in…you and Chenle didn’t have a long run. The concept of it hurt enough to pull you up from bed and out the front door. 

Without a word, you sit down next to Chenle on the sidewalk, making a chair out of the step in the pathway leading up to his aunt’s house. He moves his head to look over at you, registering that you were next to him. With a breath, you turn to face him as well, a smile on your lips that didn’t quite reach your eyes, though the tears once occupying them were successfully blinked back. 

He ignores your smile of reassurance, instead just looking over you once and nodding his head minimally before facing the front again and leaning his head on your shoulder. That’s how the two of you stayed for a good five minutes. No words exchanged, just your light breaths and his heavy exhales as you run through every thought in your mind. You weren’t sure which ones to say, which ones would make things worse, or if any of them would make things better. 

“Oh!” You startle as the first practical, rather than emotional, thought crosses your mind. “I still have your hoodie, oh my god let me go get-” Your move to get up and run back into your house is ruined by Chenle’s calm words.

“Keep it,” he says immediately, and you whip your head towards him in shock.

“What? Chenle, if I keep it, it’s almost guaranteed you’re never getting it back. We won’t have contact after this.” That was always the deal, he was getting a new phone and his parents were taking any trace of you out of it, blocking your number, the whole nine yards. However, admitting that you weren’t going to have contact after this present moment was incredibly bitter on your tongue. The words make Chenle tense up, too, but he just as quickly continues with a head nod.

“I know. So, keep it. It can be your hoodie, just please don’t forget that it’s mine.” He stops talking once he notices the sorrow in his tone, and you watch as he swallows it back before speaking again, this time with a touch of playfulness. “And even after you stop wearing it, you can give it to your first-born, Chenle, and then it’s Chenle’s hoodie again.” He concludes as though the entire thing made perfect sense, and you didn’t know how to feel with the fact that his banter made this conversation seem so normal. On the one hand, you were grateful when the familiarity fought off any last question of tears, but on the other hand, you hated knowing this was the last time you would get to have a normal conversation with him. 

You settle with rolling your eyes rather than figuring out how to feel. “I’m not naming my first-born ‘Chenle,’” you reply, looking at him with raised eyebrows. You watch as a small smile overtakes his face, but it quickly settles into a grimace and then it’s gone.

“It was worth a shot.” He pauses for a beat before turning to face you, his new tone coming off as desperate, helpless. “Don’t ever forget me, okay?”

You shake your head rapidly as you reassure him. “I couldn’t.”

The two of you stare at each other again in silence for a moment. The time to say goodbye was upon you, which is why the conversation died, which is why you remember what your mom had said in your room, and thus you start with your wishes of luck. “You’re gonna do great, you know? Learning how to run a company and everything. No one’s more capable than you. I’m already incredibly proud of you, not because you’re gonna be a crazy successful business man, but because you’re you. So, when you set foot in your dad’s company, don’t lose that, okay? Everything that makes you Chenle. I’d be sad to see that go just for some bottom line.”

Chenle’s shoulders sink as he turns to face the pavement. “I’ll do my best for you,” he assures with a nod. You want to fill the silence again but hardly have a clue what to say. However, that’s when you see Chenle’s lips twitching and you know he’s in the midst of trying to articulate more of his own thoughts. When he does speak up again, his voice is surprisingly steady. “You know, I’ve been thinking lately. That’s all I could ever seem to do these past few weeks. You know I always struggled finding the right words to say, to let you know how much you mean to me. But lately I’ve found my words. And it’s stupid because it’s so easy,” he says with a scoff, and a wave of uneasiness washes over you as you see the smile he’s able to conjure up. “I’ve been saying it over and over again in my head and it’s so natural. I could’ve been telling you this entire time.”

That’s when clarity hits you and you jump to stop him from saying his next words - you couldn’t handle them. “Chenle, don’t-” You speak up in a rush, but he does, too.

“I love you,” he says firmly, finally bringing his head back up to look at you. His eyes are wide in sincerity, making sure you could see every emotion behind them, how much he meant it. “I love you, y/n l/n. I really do.”

Every last bit of strength you had vanished in milliseconds, and instead you bawled your eyes out sitting on that pavement. “You stupid kid,” you cry out, ramming your head into his shoulder. Underneath you, Chenle froze, and you realize he has no clue if you’re sad or genuinely mad at him. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” you add weakly, a hand coming up to clutch at his shirt. Chenle immediately softens, placing both of his arms around you as best he can. All this time, you had been mentally preparing to comfort him, to be so incredibly strong for him so that he could take his next steps and not feel incredibly guilty for doing so…but now he was the one comforting you as you sobbed in his arms. Chenle could figure out how to articulate his feelings but you couldn’t even get this right - he was stronger than you.

No more words were exchanged between the two of you. He held you in his arms as you tried to rid yourself of tears, but you couldn’t even accomplish that before his aunt gave the first gentle warning that they had to get on the road. Chenle felt you freeze in his arms, and he hated knowing that, regardless of how you wanted to frame it, he was the reason you were crying and torn up like this. If it was up to him, he would’ve never left you; but it wasn’t up to him, so all he could do was leave you with something - his hoodie, and the softest of kisses on the top of your head, getting you to finally pick your head up again so he could place more kisses across the span of your face, slowly but surely kissing your tears away until he made his way down to your lips…and there he finally faltered, letting out a heavy breath against your skin. A last kiss sounded horrible, did he even want one so clearly defined, or was it better for your last kiss to have been yesterday, being able to remember it as basked in love rather than tears. His inner debate was more like a war as his eyes roamed over every inch of your face - what to do? What’s best? Tears were still running down your face but he can't shake how beautiful you look right now…he loves you. How does he kiss you goodbye? How could he ever say goodbye? Does he not do anything at all? He loves you. Is a final goodbye best left unspoken? Unkissed? 

His state of drowning in his thoughts gets cut off as you make the decision for him, leaning in to kiss him softly, and instead he’s drowning in you…and your last kiss. It was delicate and innocent, with the audience you had, it probably would have been weird for it to be any other way. Regardless, he still chases your lips after you pull back - that couldn’t have been it; but then the car starts and his eyes shoot open as they dart over to where his aunt was getting situated in the driver’s seat. Chenle whipped back around to face you and looked terrified, but the roar of the engine was a constant reminder of where he needed to be - he couldn’t put it off any longer. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out, instead it was just quick, heavy breaths and a scared shake of his head. None of that meant that he wasn’t in the act of standing up from the pavement, making his way to the car…leaving you.

Every step you watched him take as he left was another drop of poison in your bloodstream, a poison you should’ve built up tolerance for already given how many small doses it seemed like you were taking throughout the last three months. Though, you must be kidding yourself - goodnight kisses under the porch light before watching him walk the few steps to the other side of the road were nothing even close to poison; an antidote, maybe, to last you throughout the night and fight off the poison of when you were apart, but there were no more goodnight kisses to keep you going now. It was a different sting, your muscles tightened, you couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. Though, you refused to watch him go, leaving it up to your tears to blur the sight of it. The scene in front of you was nothing other than a tragedy, an ending no one was satisfied with, not because it could’ve ended differently, but because it was always going to end this way. There was no crazy plot twist or invocation of Deus Ex Machina to change the narrative. No, just the same, sad, memorized ending of a story you forgot was your own. You played yourselves for fools, believing you could outrun a truth that only ever gained on you with each stride - that, together, the only thing the two of you needed was what you would never be able to have…more time.

[ldydeath]

I Need Somebody 2 | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

Summary: Everything has changed now that you’ve appeared in Jiyong’s song. Do you have what it takes to make it out of the industry? Word count: 1.8k Warnings: slight angst (?), mentions of body weight and body image issues. Author’s Note: decided to then one of my April fics into a series. You can check out the master list here! 

You hadn’t known when you’d slipped into Jiyong’s car that night how much your life was going to change. You’d thought you’d just be a simple cameo on a song, maybe dip your toes into a new relationship. You never imagined you’d be standing around a group of people who were picking apart every last thing about you. 

Like everything Jiyong touched, the song had been a hit. You’d gotten more traction that you’d expected. Though, you figured that had to do with your last minute addition to the song being so heavily highlighted in Good Day more so than your actual vocals. Either way, you’d somehow managed to get signed to Jiyong’s label. 

He was helping produce your solo single, something you’d been very vocal about. You had never wanted fame, singing karaoke as a release had been enough for you. So if you were going to do this you were going to do it with someone you trusted. 

The two of you had been inseparable since the night you met. If you weren’t at his place he was at yours. You’d stood by his side for his first solo concert, gone with him to support Daesung's solo journey as well. You’d found a home with Jiyong in the few short months you’d known him.  That home was something you desperately wanted to get to right now. You didn’t know if you could handle one more person critiquing your body today.

Your phone buzzed, cutting through the noise and you let out a sigh as you excused yourself to see who it was. You weren’t at all surprised to see Jiyong’s name flash across the screen. You were supposed to have been done with this outfit fitting hours ago. He had a show at a golf event that you were supposed to be at. He’d be taking the stage any minute. 

Did you forget about me?

You snorted at the text, as if you could forget him even if you tried. 

Not even a little bit. Fitting went over. Should be out of here soon.

I’ll make sure to send you a video. I’m wearing the suit you picked out. Miss you.

Don’t change, I’ll be over after. 

You smiled at your phone, before you heard it. The soft murmurs of the team. Someone was asking what Jiyong possibly saw in you, another commenting on your body weight….again. You tried to silence the noise, because that’s all it was. You were a pretty girl, someone Jiyong had been attracted to and it didn’t matter what they thought. At least that’s what you told yourself. 

The fitting went on for a few more hours and you finally made your way to your house, defeated. You were supposed to be celebrating at Jiyong’s. A successful show for him, a successful fitting for you. Future power couple in the making and all that. But after this day, you just needed to curl up in a ball and shut the rest of the world out. 

You’d sent Jiyong a text telling him you weren’t feeling up to going to his place and headed straight home. You’d been too far in your own head, you'd missed Jiyong’s car parked out front. Didn’t even realize the door was unlocked when you stuck your key in. You slid out of your shoes and dropped your bag down, a sniffle following suit as you leaned against the door. Your eyes cloudy with tears.

“What happened?” Jiyong’s voice had an edge to it you hadn’t heard before and you turned to face him. 

“I didn’t know you were here, I’m sorry.” You wiped the tears away quickly as more seeped out. You hadn’t meant to let them get to you like this. 

Jiyong had known something was up when you didn’t make it to the show. His suspicions had been right when you’d canceled on him all together. If anyone knew how cruel the industry could be, it was him. He’d watched it destroy his best friend, almost destroyed him too. He wasn’t going to let that happen to you. 

He moved quickly, his hands finding their way to your face as his thumb wiped away the tears spilling down your cheeks. It broke his heart seeing you this way and he pulled you to him. Your face buried into his chest as you took a minute to collect yourself. He rested his chin on your head, holding you close as his hands ran soothing circles on your back. He didn’t know what they’d done to you, but he’d make sure they wouldn’t do it again. 

“What did they do?” His voice was more calm, but there was still an edge to it. 

“ApparentlyI’m hideous and extremely wrong for you.” You sighed, moving out from the safety of his arms. 

“That’s completely inaccurate.” He crossed the room, keeping in pace with you. “You’re gorgeous for starters. And you could do a lot better than me.” You snorted. 

You moved to sit on the couch, pulling a blanket up over you and wrapped your arms around your legs, attempting to make yourself as small as possible. You took a second to take in Jiyong, his messy hair, the suit, under different circumstances you’d be ripping those clothes off him. You wanted the confidence you’d had that morning back. 

“You look nice, by the way.” Jiyong smirked at your words before moving to sit next to you. 

He pulled you into his arms and you practically melted into his touch. This was what you’d wanted all day - to be with him. You just hated that you felt so broken in his arms. As if reading your thoughts, Jiyong placed a kiss to the top of your head, your cheek, and then finally your lips. 

There it was, that magnetic pull you’d felt in the club again. It was always there, pulling you to him. The struggles of the day disappearing for a minute while you’re tongues danced for dominance. If you could spend the rest of time kissing this man you’d be happy forever. Unfortunately, you couldn’t. 

“I ordered us food. Figured you hadn’t eaten today.” His forehead resting against yours as he spoke. 

“I haven’t. I should eat salads until I fit into this ridiculous outfit.” You pulled away, as if repulsed with yourself. 

“Hey. No. You’re perfect. Everyone in that club the night we met thought so, I still think so. We’ll get you a new stylist if this continues. They need to alter the clothes to fit you, not the other way around.” He pulled you back to him. “You’re going to eat and we’re going to forget this day ever happened.” 

Your head found its way to his shoulder, and you curled into him. His arm stayed planted around you, as if he was solely responsible for keeping you upright. You don’t know how long you sat there in the silence but it was nice to have him to come back to after a day like this. 

The two of you are in silence, Jiyong watching to make sure you actually ate. He knew how easy it was to get lost in the noise of the negative comments, but he would reassure you every day that they were wrong if they had to. 

“Come on, up.” Jiyong was on his feet his hand reaching out for you. 

“What, why?”

“Just trust me.” You sighed, taking his hand.

He pulled you to your feet before taking out his phone and flipping through his Spotify before landing on the perfect song. Hitting play, his hand rested on your hip, his other gripping your hand. You let out a small laugh as you swayed to the music. 

“This is cheesy.” You teased, your eyes glancing up to look at him. 

“It’s romantic.” He corrected, a lopsided grin crossing his face as his eyes locked with yours. 

You let him twirl you around your living room, his voice humming along to the lyrics of the song. It wasn’t one you recognized but he had a way of making everything so beautiful. This song was sure to be your new favorite. 

You could feel yourself relaxing, the weight of the day finally fading away as you melted into Jiyong. A real smile on your face as you leaned up to kiss him. He held you close, his lips moving with yours as he tried his best to kiss all your pain away. 

“You should be my Too Bad dancer on tour.” He said it so casually, like he had the power to just change everything that easily. 

“What? Why?” You shook your head. “I couldn’t.”

“You should see yourself when you get lost in the music like that. You’re breathtaking.” He moved your head so that you were looking at him. “And you can. Unless you’re scared.” 

“I’m not.” You glared at him, knowing exactly what he was doing. He’d figured you out so quickly in the short time you’d been together. “Are you sure?”

“About you? Always.” He smirked and you grinned. 

“Alright. I’ll do it.” 

Jiyong’s gummy grin matched the one on your face and he leaned down to kiss you again. This was the only way he could think to keep you safe. You’d be on the road with him, you could work together on songs while you traveled around Asia. He could fire your stylist and you could use his. You’d be surrounded by support and if it ever got too heavy he’d be right there fo carry the weight of the world for you. Or with you. Whatever you wanted. 

He’d known it the second he’d laid eyes on you that he’d do anything for you. Now he just needed to show you how serious he was about it. This journey wasn’t going to be easy, but it would lead you to some beautiful places and a chance at a different life than the one you’d grown accustomed to. You were a star in his eyes and soon enough the rest of the world would see that too. 

“Come on, let’s go to bed. It’s been a long day.” His hand slid down your body effortlessly as he reached for yours.

Lacing your fingers together, he led you to your room. It amazed you how comfortable he was walking through your house like he owned the place. You hadn’t been together that long but you couldn’t imagine a time before him now. 

He helped you undress, leaving tinder kisses across your skin as he slid your robe on your body. You helped him out of his suit jacket, undid his tie carefully before flinging it across the room. You’d imagined this going so differently when you’d seen this suit earlier. He stripped down to his boxers before climbing into bed and pulling you to him. 

He covered you both up, his arms wrapping around you as you drifted off to sleep. He watched you for a while before reaching for his phone. He fired off a few text messages to make sure you wouldn’t have to worry about ever seeing that team of people ever again. When you woke up in the morning you’d have a whole new team, he’d make sure of that. 

tag list: @wcnderlnds @infinetlyforgotten @berfgrimm @aizshallnotbefound @loveesiren @gdinthehouseee @tulentiy @petersasteria @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @mirahyun @breakmeoff @1950schick @flymetothexmoon @sherrayyyyy

[c4tluver02]

golden line

wc: 2.4k

warnings: none! hurt comfort happy ending lets go!!

summary: Finally getting a moment to talk to you, Steve is determined to get things fixed between the two of you.

a/n: i hope u guys enjoyed this little series!! <33 thank u for all the love on it !!!!!!!

part 1, part 2, part 3

How can I repay the due? The way you know me, love me, pull me through. ♫

After everything with Venca Steve accepted that things just wouldn't be the same. He would no longer be mad at the new normal. His new life would consist of sleepless nights all alone, no time for hobbies, stitched into a routine that wouldn't fail him. Nothing changing meant nothing could go wrong. 

This was all set in stone until you came along, and now Steve can't help but rethink his whole system. Maybe, somehow, Steve wouldn't have to feel so exhausted by all the weight he has to carry. That someone would actually want to do that for him. But now Steve is stuck in a constant state of stress for how he was gonna tell you all of this, without messing it all up. 

All of this has kinda forced Steve to open up more, ask his friends what to do instead of always having all of the answers. Robin was able to get through to him that you needed time. And maybe if the date you went on did go horrible, like he'd hoped, he’d be ready to pick you back up. 

Which it did by the way. It was just the worst and if Steve wasn't so pretty you’d swear off men for a lifetime. To get yourself all done up and have some guy waste your time felt like a slap in the face. The whole date all you could think about was how Steve wouldn't say that, or Steve would have done this. Being plagued by him was starting to drive you mad, like the way he so easily wrote you off and humiliated you wasnt enough for you to get over him completely. 

In hopes to at least start ‘mission get over Steve’ you decide to go to the store, ready to divulge in a whole carton of ice cream and cry out how sad you are of the way things ended. Whatever stage of grief involved you feeling sorry for yourself was what you were experiencing. Your red eyes in the grocery store matching a baggy outfit to show the world how broken you were feeling. Rejected, bad date, rock bottom. Next week you’ll bounce back but for right now you walk towards the ice scream section. That is until you hear a loud ‘ouch!’ come from an aisle that you were walking towards. 

Now you were really starting to feel crazy because if your delusions have truly melted your brain you would almost guess that it was Steve's voice. And when you hear Robin lecture him you feel your heart drop. 

“Do you always have zero class?” Robin scolds.

“I just tripped! I'm heartbroken, deal with me would you?” He pleads. And if a gun were to Rob's head, she would reply with a ‘oh I know’. Because to be quite frank, it's all she's heard about. 

He had asked her about the idea to go see you but Robin reminded him that maybe that wouldn't fix all his problems. That he could actually make things worse. 

Quick to get as far away from them you decide to go through the next aisle but it is humorous how bad of an idea that was. You try to turn as you see their cart come through before they do but you don’t make it in time. 

“I know but it-” The sentence stops before it really even starts. Both of you freeze, caught. 

Robin’s heart breaks, despite Steve saying he's sad, you actually look it. Eyes slightly swollen, your hair in a braid that's slightly falling apart, and an outfit that shows that you haven't left the house in a few days. 

“Are you okay?” Steve is quick to ask, walking towards you as you stand still in your spot. 

“Yeah, I just-I needed some reinforcements.” You say with a dry laugh, trying to not come off as embarrassed as you feel. 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I was gonna actually stop by your house but I dunno- I mean I know how weird that sounds, but I couldn't get a hold of you and I wanted to make sure you were ok.” Somehow Steve got it all out with one breath. His hands are matching his words telling a story themselves. 

“You know where I live?” You are trying to ignore how he wanted to check up on you. 

“Well no but I was gonna look in the system.” He says scratching the nape of his neck, this isn't really coming out as romantic as it would have felt had he done it. 

“Oh.” You nod but you really don't know what to say, too embarrassed for the second time around Steve no wonder he doesn't want you. 

Robin walks up to meet you two in the middle. “We were gonna have a movie night if you wanted to join?” 

You let out a small smile at her invite, always okay with being the third wheel. And if we’re being real you could really use a win right now. It may not be a date night with Steve but hanging around two people who you know will make you feel good sounded nice. 

“Okay sure, yeah. If that's okay with you?” You ask looking back at Steve.

His round eyes go wide, not expecting you to say yes. “Sure, yes. Yeah that would be nice.” He doesn't even care that he's giving away his nonchalant facade with the big grin on his face. Simply happy with how this is going so far. 

As you scan all the snacks you three got for the movie night Steve toys around with asking how your date went but Robin beats him to it. 

“So how was your date with pool guy?” She pulls out her wallet and Steve hands you his card, already a step ahead of her with this at least. 

“It was ok, we weren’t a match but I got a free dinner.” You say with a shrug putting the last item in the bag. Admitting that it was a fail isn't an option right now, already letting them see you in this state was punishment enough. 

Steve takes the bags and you start walking out to the car. 

“I can meet you guys there?” You ask. A second to decompress how awkward this all is would be nice. 

“Okay see you there!” Robin says as she closes the door to Steve's car. You know they are talking about everything that just happened but you are sitting comfortably in silence. 

–

It only takes you about 5 minutes to get to Steve’s, his house being pretty close to the grocery store. 5 minutes to gather your thoughts about how this night might play out. Trying to think about every outcome possible to prepare but the short ride doesn't give you much time to think. 

“Rob open the door?” You hear Steve ask as you get out of your own car. 

“You ever heard of a please? Maybe a thank you?” Robin responds, even though she does open the door for him. 

You walk in only a few steps behind him and let out a soft thank you to her. 

“See at least she has manners, why am I not best friends with her?” You smile at her as she closes the door, you’ve missed this.

“So what movies did you guys get?” You ask sitting on the couch. 

“We got ‘The Exorcist’, ‘Jaws’, and E.T.”. Steve answers as he's placing all the treats you got on the table. 

“Pass, pass, and okay I could do E.T.” You smile digging into the snacks you got. 

Steve laughs and rolls his eyes at your opinionated response. “You aren't up for Jaws?” He asks while sitting next to you.

His couch isn't small but it isn't huge. The warmth of his thigh could be felt by your own, if he leans over at all he's in your personal space. 

“I think I should be asking you why you want to watch a movie about a shark that kills people.” You joke back. You're both acting like nothings wrong. It’s really not the time to get into a whole deep argument and for now that's okay with you both. 

“It’s a good movie, you should watch it.” He gives your knee a nudge and asks Robin to turn off the lights. It’s later in the evening and the sun is almost completely done setting which you thank in hopes that he can't see how flustered his small touch made you.

As the movie plays the three of you sit there making small comments in between scenes and eat your food. When the last 30 minutes comes you only hear the loud snores coming from Robin. Deciding to call it a night, Steve turns the TV off. It’s now completely dark and suddenly the fact that this has been the first time you both have been, basically, alone since the fight hits you all at once. 

“I should-”

“Can we talk?”

You both say at the same time. Steve is the one asking to talk and you nod thinking he's right. The smart adult thing to do is to talk. 

He puts his hand on the small of your back and leads you out to his backyard. The weather at night is perfect and the silence plus the small wave of the wind is relaxing. You sit on one of his long white chairs and he does the same with the other. 

“I’ve really missed you, y’know?” Steve starts. You almost wanna let out a sigh at how annoyingly mature he’s being about all of this. So open to say what's on his mind. 

“Me too.” You decide to copy. 

“I want you to know I didn't mean what I said.” 

Your eyes immediately shoot towards him. Trying to find out what game he's playing, what his angle is. 

“I am not, not, looking for something right now.” He wishes he could explain his feelings in a better way. “I know I said I wasn't and I thought I wasn't but then you came around and you changed everything for me.” 

This small silent treatment you’re giving is sorta killing him. The need to explain as much as he can to get on your good side again is all that's on his mind. 

“But then you left and you weren't coming around and the one time you do you're going on a date.” Steve lets out a huff, the anger coming back all too easily. 

“What did you think I was coming around for Steve? I liked you. I really thought we were on the same page. I mean the inside jokes and spending the whole day together.” Your usage of “liked” makes Steve wince. It hits him hard and every word after it is like salt on the wound. 

“I just, I didn't think I had anything to give anyone. All I know how to do is keep everything in all of the time so no one else falters.” Steve lets out a sigh, his vision blurring. “What would anyone want anything to do with someone like that?” 

You wish you were sitting next to him to give him a hug. To lend him a hand to squeeze, or maybe a shoulder to lay his head. 

“Steve, you know any of these people in your life would stop everything if they knew you were feeling like this.” 

“But then who's taking care of them? Someone has to.”  Poor Steve you think. A kid who was never cared for, only focuses on caring for others. 

This time you actually get up and move toward him. He scootches over and the weight of you both at the end of the plastic chair makes it lift at the top. Almost falling off Steve puts his weight to the top and you stay on. A laugh escapes out of you and soon enough he's coping. 

Silence falls between you for a few seconds. “I'm sorry you've been feeling this way.” It’s simple but it’s true. Steve is the last person who deserves to feel like this. 

“I’m sorry I made you feel this way.” He’s talking about a whole different feeling but nonetheless an awful one. 

You reach your arms to go around his shoulders and he lets his chin fall on your shoulder. His arms wrap around you in return and for the first time in weeks you feel at peace. 

“Would you stay the night? I have a spare room– Normally Rob sleeps in it but I'm sure she wouldn't mind the couch.” He asks lifting himself from the warmth of your shoulder. 

You and Steve still have a long way to go, more to get through but you’re ready to do it with him. Ready to share whatever baggage he might bring. 

“Yeah I can stay.” Giving him a warm smile, it really does numbers for his heart. 

His shoulders fall as he breathes out a breath of relief. Your forehead falls gently against his own and he closes his eyes. It allows you to really look at him, like how long his lashes are, and how pretty his lips purse out. 

“Cmon, let's go to bed.” You stand and lay your hand out for him to take. 

All of these emotions are hitting him all at once, exhaustion taking over as he does as you say intertwining his fingers with yours. 

You lay a blanket on Robin who is now fully stretched out on the couch and Steve locks the sliding glass door. You both walk up the stairs in silence but once you reach the top you both pause. 

“Can I sleep with you?” You ask. He offered you the spare room but right now you really don't want to be away from him. 

Steve is secretly thankful you did. He nods and you both climb into his bed. You guess the pros of being a rich kid is having a big bed, you both fit nicely. 

He wraps an arm around your waist and you snuggle your face into the crook of his neck. He smells like pine and chlorine from being outside this whole time. But it’s his heartbeat that easily puts you to sleep. The consistent rhythm being a perfect reminder of how thankful you are to have Steve. And the feeling of his hand going up and down due to your soft breathing is what puts him to sleep. Unsure of what tomorrow will bring but you'll deal with it together.

[r0manceplanet]

My first mashup thing!!! Hhehejhhh!!!!!!

—-

Anyways ,,

Fandom : forsaken

Pronouns : she/her but i also go by it/its ^_^

Gander & sexuality : im a female!! And im pansexual :33

Personality : I’m a shy person but I’m very sweet and nice to others people!! I really don’t get angry tbh …. I’m really funny when u get to know me hhejjhhe.. i also might be VERY clingy to people i love the most since of some issues that happened.. hhhj 1# day dreamer bttww, alsooo im emotional… , overthinking too…

Hobbies : honesty, only drawing and day dreaming…(i know THATS not a hobby but still!!!) and maybe writing too.. and listening to music..!!! Hhehko

other stuff..

Love language : CUDDLING!!! Kisses and maybe gifting ^_^ i love showing physical affection very much!! And non-physical affection too!!! I heart cuddling 😭😭

Like & dislikes : i like drawing and talking to people most of the time but also watching movies or just cuddling.. i dislike VERY creepy things since does make me VERY uncomfortable. Scary movies out of the way… i would be straight up be crying since I’m emotional about does things

That’s all!!!!! Runs away

FORSAKEN MATCHUP #2

Holy cow I got so many requests which was unexpected— I am super grateful for these requests!! Enjoy your matchup, Anon! I think who I matched you with was perfect so far, and I hopefully wrote a lot too.

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Press “Keep Reading” to see who you’ve been matched with!

You have been matched with… 007n7!

• When I read your information my thoughts immediately went to 007n7 — I have an amazing feeling that he would be in love with you so much, and for so many reasons too! You would’ve met him before the game happened and before c00lkidd turned insane.

• You were so sweet towards him when he met you… he’s never really experienced many interactions with other people like you since many people disliked him due to c00lkidd’s actions— but you didn’t care, why would that stop you from being kind to him? That’s how you got him wrapped around your finger.

• He felt comfortable by your calming presence and you both always got along together, and always held respect towards each other, including when you are both dating each other, and when you guys are in the games you both have each others back, you can tell he’s easily scared from the killers, especially when one of them is his son and your there to comfort him and protect him, as he is as well, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

• Before the games every happened, you guys used to be co-workers at one of the jobs he had so he can raise c00lkidd, and you both usually talked everytime, saying “good morning” everyday, and then that turned into hanging out together, and leading to you babysitting c00lkidd for a short period of time to get money, and c00lkidd loved you so much, you would always play games with him and you were there to comfort him and bring him to the park and do so many fun things. 007n7 dates you because one of the main reasons would be because of how much c00lkidd likes you and is able to listen to you.

• When you guys start dating you would have to wait before you tell c00lkidd— but before you did you guys would hang out at your house and watch movies while 007n7 is hugging you and whispering sweet words into your ear, and he always watches what you wanna watch, you’ll never have to worry about watching “scary” movies, he’s the type to like more action movies in my opinion.

• Once you guys date after a while, I feel like he would ask you to move in with him and c00lkidd as the next big step into your dating life, and once you do, it’ll be the best decision ever as the trio of you three are always having fun, like dancing with 007n7 and c00lkidd, or taking him to the park while you both watch him, and sometimes you both join him (one time you had to get 007n7 unstuck out of one the slides— I won’t be going into that though…).

• 007n7 is always bringing tiny trinkets home for you, and they have a lot of thought put into them, and don’t get me started on the kisses… he’s gonna kiss you every second of the day if he possibly can… c00lkidd always whines whenever he sees his dad kissing you in front of him, causing you and 007n7 to laugh and then give him kisses on the cheek (he stops complaining if you do that).

• 007n7 always catches you daydreaming, and teasingly asks you if you were daydreaming about him— which results in you lightly slapping him on the arm, and you both always have such entertaining conversations, anything that has drama in it is the most top tier, he’ll tell you all the tea.

• He loves seeing your drawings, he’ll compliment on them everytime, and it’s even better if you draw something with him in it, and I feel like you would also get him into drawing as a healthy habit to do together— also you guys have a playlist you share together with your favorite songs, and you never fail to get him into more new bands and singers.

• If you were to ever overthink he’ll be there to help you out any way he can, whatever it is you’re worrying about you will be reassured by him, and will try to get your mind off whatever you’re worrying about, and will try to solve it for you if you wanted.

• You guys would be the best couple ever — no matter how bad things turn out you guys will always have each other through thick and thin, you will always have each other.

Round-Ups: Dusekkar, Azure, Guest 1337

[chenlezip]

.⊹˖ᯓ★. ݁₊ love at first like | a mark lee smau

009: the truth hurts.

annas note: next chapter is the last D: i know this seems so rushed and im so sorry for all who were excited for this… i hope you enjoy though. and i hope the next chapter will be even better for you as the last.

it is official. the end of the ‘relationship’ you had with mark has finally come to an end but did you really want it to? you didn’t expect to enjoy these past 3 months but you really did. he was like no other. he treat you so kindly and with care, never once made you feel bad or like you didn’t understand anything like that time he showed you new tricks to use for making music. the silent actions too, the small looks you both gave each other to check if either one was okay, the whispered nothings that you both talked about.

you both were truly emotionally invested into this, soon forgetting that it was fake and just a contract but even then, with the harsh reality hitting you both like this.. would anything really pull you apart? even marks members haven’t seen him so happy and comfortable with someone so fast before but you’re different to him. someone who can keep him grounded and not let him lose himself in his work and in general.

speaking of, mark was absolutely crushed at the news. he knew it was coming, that’s why he tried to talk to you about it the other day in the car but his words wouldn’t come out the way he wanted them to and he didn’t get to explain. it was too late. the next couple of days, mark keeps himself busy and whenever he sees a text from you, he tries his best to ignore it, just swiping it off his screen. he didn’t mean to ignore you but he didn’t know what else to do, he can’t try and act like everything is normal because it’s not. not to him it isn’t.

you, on the other hand, were sick of mark ignoring you. he even went as far as to ignore your calls when he promised you (and pinky promised by the way) that he would answer always. one night, you both ended up staying late at the company and you notice him coming out of a recording studio. your chance.

you make your way up to him, dragging him somewhere quiet so you both could chat in peace and as soon as you found a small room, you push you and him inside and close the door, crossing your arms. “mark, i’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while about this but you’ve been non stop avoiding me ever since our contract ended. you don’t have to avoid me, you don’t have to just push me out of your life.. it’s hurting me, you should know that but i guess you don’t because we stopped keeping in touch. you said you wouldn’t, you said you would always answer my calls when i ring.. pinky promised and everything but you lied.”

“i told you it was supposed to be fake yn, didn’t i? we got told specifically that we can’t get our feelings involved in this, it said so on that contract and i know it’s ended but i.. i let my feelings come between us countless times like when i wanted to kiss you as it rained the day we got to the cafe, when i said you were more important than i thought while we got drunk in my studio, the small whispers we shared hiding away from our managers. i thought that if i ignored you, my feelings would die down and we could go back to normal for the sake of everything. for our careers. obviously it didn’t work because all i could think of was you and how everything was so real.”

you felt your stomach churn with so many unknown feelings. “what do we do?” you ask softly. “i’ll sort it, okay? i’ll make it up to you but i don’t think we can just be colleagues or friends after this. not with the way i feel about you, yn.”

@polarisjisung @luvmrk @finewinesixtynine @bbyjjunie @multifandomania @jenocity23 @iluv7tn @sungbites @haluenx @222brainrot @iluvkyo @ayukas @mmjhh1998 @skibidihan @f6llsun @florihaei @kiszjuli @cloudmrk @cigsaftersuh @i06hae @neozon3nha @urlocalbeaner5 @sunghoonsgfreal @nasasungs @mbella607 @desssss-0 @prettymoles @haechsworld @mejaemin @yizhrt @fullmoon0606 @n0hyuck @dilflover44 @nctdreamchaser @stuckonmark @bananinhazz @luvs4haechan @tynlvr @remgeolli @jae-n0 @blondemrk @lukeys-giggle @mimi894 @haechyuckan @jakiki94 @sacdepixie @bluedbliss @yoyomul @nctrawberries @hoeingthefuckup @joneborder

[ediblechainsaw]

Soap x Reader!!

Cw. Smut, enemies to lovers-ish. Fem reader.

A/N: enjoy, and, as always, asks are open for just about whatever. (Please give me an ask, I'm running out of ideas and inspiration lol)

You, who never really thought of having an actual relationship. Honestly, you didn't really think you wanted one. It's not that you thought you were unlovable or undeserving, it just seemed like so much effort. You could barely remember to text your friends back, let alone maintain a romantic relationship.

Maybe that's why you became a soldier, you mean, it's not like you had a partner to miss you if anything went wrong. you take the most dangerous missions, let the people with actual families do the easy work while you risk your life.

No, relationships aren't for you. and anyways, it's not like anyone here makes you want one. Not Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish. Especially not him.

He is infuriating. His whole 'good guy' attitude, his stupid charming smile and that stupid accent. His stupid eyes.

You hate him.

Except in times like this, where he's doing the one thing that doesn't piss you off. His fingers digging into your waist as he thrusts up into you while you straddle his lap, him gasping against your neck as you ride him teasingly slowly.

"fuck- Bonnie. Please," he begs, knowing that, if he wanted, he could force you to go faster, but he also knows that you would make it hell for him if he tried.

You hum, continuing your slow pace until even you get tired of it. You pull him on top of you, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

Johnny wastes no time pounding his thick dick into you, biting and sucking at your neck, jaw, collarbone, any skin he can reach. He's too pussy drunk to give a fuck about leaving marks in places people can see, too far gone with your cunt squeezing him as you near your orgasm.

You moan and pull at his mohawk, cursing into his ear, calling him dirty names only you can get away with saying. If any other soldier had the nerve to use such language to him, they would surely be scrubbing the bathrooms for weeks.

But you, you are the exception. The special one. With the way you move under him, the way you clench him, your nails in his back and teeth biting at his neck as you come, hard and body wreckingly, he is fucking amazed that you're still single.

Later, after he's cleaned you up, he asks you why. After you explain it to him, he, like the stubborn mutt he is, decided to make it his mission to have your heart.

And, after months of flirting and getting on your good side, he finally gets you to agree on a date.

And, after a few years of proving just how much of a great, stand up guy he is, Johnny finally gets a ring on your finger and your lips on his under an alter.

He couldn't be happier, and you have been proven wrong. You weren't unfit for relationships, you just needed a guy that knew what he was doing.

[its-to-the-death]

Fourth Wall Fight Round 3

Flowey (Undertale) vs Niko (Oneshot)

Propaganda for each character below the cut! May include spoilers

Flowey

He can overwite your save file, refers to everything as being a game and either calls you out for watching someone else play the bad route or not actually killing people irl.

While Undertale is a game riddled with cracks in the fourth wall, Flowey is one of the only characters to directly address you, the player. If you open the game again after completing the true ending, Flowey pops up and talks to you, asking you not to reset the game in the following scene:

(Spoilers for all of Undertale) Even if for most of the game Flowey is content to watch you from offscreen, when he does talk to you he makes sure to be as threatening as possible. He reveals his knowledge of your ability to save and reset the game early on, taunting you about your mistakes and threatening to take your power back for himself. He does so at the end of the Neutral Route by hijacking six human souls and creating a pocket dimension where he can kill you forever, and when that fails he guides you towards completing the True Pacifist route, which gives him the opportunity to use the souls of all the monsters in the Underground to substitute for a seventh human soul to try and lock you in a better death loop. Over the course of several runs trying to get the golden ending, it is assumed that the player will grow to fear and then hate the little flower, which makes the No Mercy route's reversal of this dynamic more impactful. Before you, the player, entered the Underground, Flowey had control of the save file and messed around a lot with his reset powers. At first he tried to figure out how to make everyone happy, but he grew bored with that and eventually started using his powers to kill without consequences -- he started by hiding behind the excuse of being curious but then admitted he enjoyed it. He only reveals this backstory to you at the end of the No Mercy route (while also calling out playthrough watchers for "want[ing] to see it, but [being] too weak to do it themselves"), when, presumably, you have already finished the True Pacifist route and are curious about what would happen if you went in the opposite direction, making your journey the same as Flowey's. Previously, he had taken joy in goading you towards murder, even against him, but he doesn't get to appreciate that now as he realizes that you're about to kill him for real this time, and you do, as the world is destroyed about a minute later. This meta-commentary on what it means to be a player is only made possible by Flowey's ability to talk directly to you, which is impressive enough on its own, but even more impressive is that it doesn't stop at condemnation. See, after Flowey had been killing for a while, he realized that that was getting boring too, and got to the point where he ended up waiting around without resetting long enough for you to show up and usurp his power -- at first he was scared of not being in control, but then he realized that you could provide him with a fresh source of entertainment and set to work plotting how to come out on top. At the end of the True Pacifist route, you end up defeating Flowey by causing him to feel the emotions of all the souls he's absorbed, forcing him to reflect and realize that his endless fight with you -- which supposedly would cure his boredom by allowing to experience the high of killing someone who will never react the same way -- isn't actually fulfilling him, and that all he really wanted was a chance to let out the grief and fear that had consumed him for so long, for example, by yelling his issues at the only other person with first-hand experience resetting. Afterwards, he decides to give life another shot without powers and uses up his soul energy to break the barrier and let everyone go to the Surface, proving that no matter how far you let yourself go, you can still come back. (And postcanon dialogue released later suggests that he does end up finding ways to be happy.) But should you boot up the game again after the credits roll, Flowey will pop up and beg you not to reset or load your file for the sake of everyone's happy ending , and thus Undertale asks one final question -- can you too, let go of the safety of the game and move on?

Niko

Niko directly talks to the player for all of the game by their system name. The fourth wall basically doesn't exist in Oneshot 😭

[nyenyel]

Puppy/Good boy compilation

Ch 21

“You’re forgetting something.” “What do you mean?” “The person you hate sends you to dreamland every night. So, do you hate my lullaby service too? Ha-ha. You don't have to think so hard. Look at you, just sweating over it. It's so obvious. You stare into space like that, right after what I said. Open your eyes, man. I won't tease you anymore. Relieved now, huh. So cute.” “I…” “Leave it. I'll continue singing my lullabies to you every night, so don't fret like a puppy. “ I'm not a puppy!!! Javier almost shouted back at his young master.

Ch 51

Javier's expression became darkened. Lloyd tapped his shoulder. "Don't droop your shoulders like a sad puppy." "Excuse me? I am not a puppy..." "Let's go. We have a lot to do." "Yes."

Ch 156

"Are you grabbing me because I might fall?" asked Lloyd. "You got it all wrong," denied Javier again. "How so?" "I wished to grab your collar because of what you did, but my hands just don't reach that far." "Aha. So, that's why you're clutching my sleeve?" Javier was silent again. "Makes sense though," Lloyd agreed, "after all, I am an important and respectable man." “...” "My goodness. What a good boy you are, Javier," teased Lloyd. "Do you want me to shove you down the cliff?" "Really? Do you mean it?" "I think this height is enough to cleanly send you off in one try. Just enough to end your tenacious life." "I think you're being sincere now," pointed out Lloyd. "Obviously." “...” Even when Javier went on uttering viciously, he never let go of Lloyd's sleeve as though he was worried that Lloyd might fall off.

Ch 175

"I know. I know that too," Lloyd smiled awkwardly "Then apologize." "For what?" huffed Lloyd. "For calling me Lady Ella just a while ago." "Okay. I'm sorry. I'm apologizing. You're a good boy, Javier, aren't you?" “...”

Ch 264

"One boy in the miserable fiefdom was forced to starve all day. His puppy starved together with him. The two tightly embraced each other, only relying on each other's body heat to get through the cold night. But not a single person came to their aid. And just like that, the boy and the dog slowly but surely drew in their final breaths of air. And right before he died, a drop of tear welled up under his eyes. He whispered to himself, his last whisper sad. Oh, oh... Only if Sir Asrahan had put on the gigantic crab shell..." “...” "Hearing those last words, the dog whimpered and licked the boy's cheeks. But the boy didn't move. That is when the dog realized that the time had come for him to follow the boy. So, the dog-" "I will wear it," Javier huffed, shaking his head. "All right, good thinking. My little puppy." Javier's face darkened.

Ch 315

"Pay attention to your inner self," replied Javier patiently, "And you will naturally feel what it is." "I am already paying attention right now," Lloyd stressed every word to drive his point home. However, Javier was unimpressed. "It does not look like it, Master Lloyd." Lloyd sighed. "I'm trying." "It's still not enough." "Ack! Ack! Dammit!" yelled Lloyd as he suddenly tapped the arms of the sofa with his palms. To this, Javier could only say, "Calm the rage inside you and find peace. Now, breathe." Lloyd obeyed. "Whew..." "There you go," cooed Javier. "Good boy." "Hey." Lloyd opened his eyes. "Focus, Young Master."

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

I don't know what would be funnier -- if you actually do write the battle of yokohoma and ambush all the non Tumblr readers with thousands upon thousands of k of dramatic epic shounen battle prequel fic, or if you don't do it, and they continue to be entirely oblivious to the readers and author who are losing their minds obsessing over a massive in universe event that has (so far at least) barely been mentioned in the fic.

Like, "who is the final five. Why are people blubbering over izuku getting poisoned. When did the sidekicks go on strike. I thought??? I read the fic???"

Writing is truly a terrifying power.

Every single day I fight the fucking temptation to say fuck it and write the battle of Yokohama. I am so so obsessed with that backstory.

I have to legitimately limit myself sprinkling in little battle of Yokohama references with each chapter. I’m like an addict. It’s a hard balance to strike, because as I said in previous asks, it’s impossible to cram Yokohama into the story as one of the completely pointless flashbacks I have glutted myself on this entire fic. It’s just too fucking long and convoluted and takes too much information to ever fit as a flashback.

I also have to refrain from relying too heavily on the emotional moments from Yokohama because I feel like it cheapens them to bring them up in pez for the first time. When referencing canon events, I’m relying on a preexisting knowledge base and emotional connection. With Yokohama, it’s just my own silly little backstory. There’s no preexisting emotional base to draw on, so it takes the wind out of what would otherwise be a very emotional moment to reference major points of Yokohama.

Like, in my head, Aizawa is pouring over every single thing Izuku did after he got poisoned by Toxic Chainsaw and sort of freaking out about them. Like. Izuku 100% went into that fight knowing he had no business in winning it. And granted—he did it out of lack of other options. He wouldn’t have gone to that fight if they weren’t on a skeleton crew with almost no actual pros.

But he did it. He didn’t let Tamaki or Nejire do it, who were at least licensed heroes with more experience. He decided to make the sacrifice play with Mirio and risk his life to stop the Fatal Five. And then when he lost the gamble? He went “I guess I’ll die” and proceeded to fight through excruciating pain and then try to pull an actual suicide mission. And then he said some super fucking concerning things to Aizawa when Aizawa showed up and he started losing it.

So Aizawa’s freaking out about what decisions Izuku made in Yokohama, and in Kamino, and when the summer camp got attacked, and in pretty much every fight he’s been in since coming to UA. But it’s hard to land the plan on “hey let’s talk about that shit you said while you were poisoned in dying” if it’s the first time the audience finds out he was poisoned. So I’m limiting myself on how much of Yokohama is directly referenced for that reason.

I also just really like the idea that at a certain point, Izuku just sort of gave up on the dream of becoming the next Symbol of Peace? And that his own relevance and position in society is something he’s actively hostile to?

It happened when he and Mirio decided to open an agency together.

He knew going into it that people would dump on Mirio for being Quirkless. He knew no one would be excited about their agency. But it was his new dream. He’d start an agency with Mirio, and it would be the worlds first Quirkless hero teamed up with that kid who broke all his fucking fingers in the sports festival. Their tagline would be “Oh god it’s them.” No one would be their fan, and they would make no money, and they’d be so goddamn happy. Because they would still be goddamn amazing heroes. And they’d be doing it together.

He didn’t think he’d ever blip on society’s radar. He’d go straight from school to starting an agency with the hero no one liked, and that stigma would probably kill his chances in the ranks. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to be famous. He was excited.

Then Yokohama happened, and suddenly he was the world’s new hope.

I think he just got really, really adverse to his own sudden escalation to stardom and fucking. Avoided it all hard. He barely went on social media in the aftermath. He didn’t realize how much people were talking about his performance in Yokohama rather than the second Sports festival.

So in his mind, Yokohama was a super shitty night for him that he doesn’t like to think about. So it would come up less in his internal monologue.

And there’s also the times when its events are referenced but it’s not specified to be about Yokohama.

It just feels unnatural to me to be like “hey remember this Which Happened During The Battle Of Yokohama Which Was The Battle We Entered During Our Second Year.” They don’t necessarily think of the context around everything, especially if it’s not getting a full flashback. So Shinsou thinks of that time Izuku bit a fucking man’s ear off like a feral lunatic, which was at Yokohama. But he doesn’t specify it was Yokohama. Or Izuku thinks about how he woke up from a multi day coma and his phone number got leaked and he had a fuck ton of notifications. But he doesn’t specify he was in the coma following his poisoning at Yokohama.

So you end up with this backstory that I am absolutely frothing at the mouth over that has the scant little references in the actual fic. I am mentally ill.

There’s definitely gonna keep being references to Yokohama throughout, but unless I write the backstory, it’s gonna stay these itty bitty tips of icebergs. Which you’re right, is kind of funny that probably most of my readers have absolutely no idea about any of this shit.

[remuswriting]

AN INVISIBLE LINE; OIKAWA TOORU

“What do you mean by that?” Tooru asks, and Y/N finally looks at him. There’s amusement in his eyes, as if he’s been in on it the entire time. “You lied to me!”

Or, Tooru goes to Y/N after a failed interview.

WORD COUNT: 818 words

TAGS: Alternate Universe; Journalist! Oikawa; Journalist! Reader; Coworkers; Pre-Relationship; Male! Reader

NOTES: Welcome to where I start writing articles where they're journalists because I work at a newspaper. If I keep writing them, then I'll probably write a series, but this won't be included. (Also, I went through Oikawa's struggle with my second article at the paper.)

Tooru has never been nonchalant a day in his life. His personality is big and everywhere. It’s off putting, and people find him annoying after talking to him several times. It’s why he doesn’t talk often with new people. It’s better when his personality slowly makes an appearance than abruptly, because just a couple of conversations can destroy the persona he’s created for himself.

However, here he sits in front of Y/N, wondering why he immediately went to him instead of to his own desk. It’s the kind of behavior he’s used to having with Hajime, but Y/N isn’t Hajime. For one, Y/N is taller, and then second is that Y/N actually has his entire life together. Hajime fell asleep mid-phone call last week while making dinner.

“The interview went terribly,” Tooru whines, and Y/N nods as he stares at his computer. “I asked about the renovation and they told me the entire history of the town instead.”

“Yeah, Kusaka-senpai is famous for that,” Y/N says, and Tooru sits up in his seat.

“What do you mean by that?” Tooru asks, and Y/N finally looks at him. There’s amusement in his eyes, as if he’s been in on it the entire time. “You lied to me!”

Y/N sighs. “Well, I didn’t lie. I just said he gives thorough answers.”

“But not to the questions you ask!”

“I still didn’t lie,” Y/N says, and Tooru can’t help but feel betrayed. He’s still new to this newspaper, and he trusted Y/N for guidance. (Not that Y/N ever promised to give him guidance. Tooru decided that on his own.) “There’s a reason Ukai-sensei hates whenever he’s involved in an article.”

“No one told me that.”

Y/N snorts as he shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure he did. I remember hearing him say to only interview Hisakawa-san.”

Tooru slouches back in his chair as he remembers the conversation. He just thought Ukai had something personal against Kusaka, not that he was a terrible person to interview. Ukai has always been weird, and only Y/N ever seems to understand him. Tooru heard Y/N did his internship while in university here five years ago, making him the third longest person to work there.

“How am I supposed to know what he means?” Tooru whines slightly, and Y/N gives him an unimpressed look.

“Common sense.”

Tooru clutches his chest, grabbing the fabric harder than necessary. “L/N-san! You wound me!”

Y/N rolls his eyes before looking at his laptop again. “Go patch yourself up at your desk.”

He’s not annoyed—Tooru is good at identifying that—but he seems busy. Yachi told him that Y/N isn’t always the best with words, even though he’s an award-winning journalist. Written words are easier than spoken, though. Tooru knows that far too well. People like his writing—they like the idea of him they see in the newspaper, but talking to him is another thing entirely.

“Will you supply the bandages?” Tooru asks, and the corner of Y/N’s lips twitch upwards. Tooru’s heart pounds against his ribs, and he wants to see Y/N really smile. He’s seen it before, but never from anything Tooru has said. It’s always from Tsukishima’s side comments or Yachi’s jokes.

Tooru hasn’t had the chance to spend enough time with Y/N in the last two months to share a moment, but maybe this is the beginning. He really hopes so.

“You should go write that article,” Y/N says as he pulls his drawer out, getting a sticky note. “Ukai-sensei will want it by 4, and it’s currently 2.” He looks at Tooru. “So, get to it.”

The mention of Ukai has Tooru getting up. It’s abrupt and there’s some fear in it. Y/N finally smiles, but he immediately tries to bite it down. All Tooru can think of is how handsome Y/N is when he smiles.

Tooru salutes. “Yes, sir.”

Y/N doesn’t bite back his smile this time as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Go away.”

There’s no heaviness in Tooru’s chest as he walks across the room to sit at his desk. He can see Y/N clearly from here, but it’s different from a distance. It’s not as personal as when he sits at his desk. When he looks over, he catches Y/N already looking. Instead of immediately shying away, Y/N stares for a moment longer before looking back at his laptop.

Tooru’s heart pounds away in his chest again. Hajime would say this is probably the start of another one of Tooru’s pathetic crushes. That can’t happen, though, because Tooru likes this place. He likes how nice everyone has been, and that Ukai doesn’t scream at him until he’s red in the face. It’s a nice place. He can’t let anything ruin that.

However, Y/N tucks some hair behind his ear before taking a drink of his water, and Tooru wonders if having a crush will actually ruin anything.

[goose-duck]

Ronin with reader who's struggling with an eating disorder? Like, they aren't eating enough? Pls :3

Soft Support

Ronin Beaufort x Reader

1.2k words

Sorry if it's kind of a mess, I'm a bit sick 😔

○●○●○●○●

For you, it'd become routine. Check the calories, do the math, jot it down. Every time you consume anything. Even a single raspberry has to be counted.

By the time you'd moved in with Ronin this behaviour had become normal to you. Something you no longer acknowledged as a disorder, but just your normal functions. It's to help you, right? Just lose a little weight so you can be healthy. As if you weren't healthy before… right?

Ronin didn't quite notice at first. There were a few things he found odd however. He noticed you always pull your phone out before or after eating something. If it's something you went for on your own, you pulled out your phone before. If it was something someone had given you, you'd pull it out after. You'd type something quickly then move on. It's just something small, but he kept an eye on it.

The reality of what you were doing was simple. Just tracking. To you it needed to be done. If you wanted food, you'd have to make sure it was within your limit for the day. If someone else gave you food? An irritation, really.

You usually had everything planned out in the morning. What you can have for the day, how much of it. All the specifics. When people throw a wrench in that? It's god awfully annoying. Now you don't know what's going on and have to adjust everything.

Ronin had also picked up on this. Whenever he or anyone else dared to try to give you food or a drink you'd get annoyed. You'd always thank them and consume the item, but he could feel the underlying irritation with every bite or sip.

Eventually he caught you doing something he couldn't just chalk up to odd behaviour. He caught you standing on the scale in the washroom and crying. He didn't know for sure what was going on, but he rushed in to check on you regardless.

“Darlin'? What's going on?” He'd hesitantly walk up behind you. He won't touch you, just slowly move into your field of vision, shifting to stand beside you.

You look away quickly, spitting out a hesitant response, “Nothing! Its–totally fine. I promise.”

Worst lie ever.

He reaches out for your hand gently but you flinch away. Not because you're scared of him, but because you're scared if he touches you, he'll somehow know all your thoughts. He doesn't push, just pulls his hand back and moves so he can try to get a better look at your face.

You continue to avoid direct eye contact, looking anywhere else you possibly can. He sighs.

“I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on, baby.” He steps back a bit, crossing his arms loosely, and leaning against the doorframe.

You continue to insist it's nothing. He only raises a slightly judging eyebrow in response. No person caught like that is ever as fine as they claim they are. It hurts him slightly to have you assume he'd just let this go. He cares far too much for that.

He doesn't want to upset you further though so he backs off for now. Uncrossing his arms he weakly holds your hand from behind you.

He kisses the back of your neck, “Alright, Darlin’. I won't push. Talk to me whenever you want to though, yeah?” He whispers against your skin softly.

You sniffle and nod, “A-Alright.”

He pulls away and leaves you to sort yourself out. He shuts the door behind him to give you privacy.

You're alone in the washroom now, door closed, and your thoughts loud. You let him see it. See you struggling. It hurts. You don't want him to see you as weak because of this. Maybe that's why you tried to rationalize it for so long? So you didn't have to believe it's… weakness?

You lean against the sink, your hands supporting your tired frame. You look at yourself in the mirror, making eye contact with your soulless eyes. They were once so full of life, but everything you've put yourself through has sucked it all away.

You drop your head down and groan. This is a problem. You know it is. You just wish it wasn't.

You feel like you're losing control of the one thing you've been able to control for so long. Now it's not only yours to control, Ronin knows of it to. You know he'd never force you to do anything, it's just knowing that you're hurting him too now that's really getting you.

You feel like everything you've worked so hard for is crumbling around you, and all you can do is watch.

Meanwhile Ronin has gone to their shared bedroom. He's on his phone; looking into eating disorders, and how to help someone struggling with one.

Despite the many issues he's faced in life, this was not one of them. When he went on testosterone he had to eat a lot more for his own health, and to speed everything up a little. Your body can't grow and change without proper nutrition, and Ronin knows it well.

While searching the website he only finds advice from outsider perspectives. Other people looking in on the person in pain. That's not quite what he was looking for. He wants to understand what's going on on a deeper level so he can help the one he loves personally.

He decides adventuring the internet is a fruitless endeavor, and shuts his phone off to think. He lays there for a while on the plush bed, just staring up at the ceiling littered with star stickers. He knows he can't get you to talk. You really don't wanna. So, maybe he can just try things? Small things?

Well, whatever happens, he'll be with them all the way.

Over the next few weeks Ronin has made a point of complimenting you more. Not on your looks, but on other things you can control. How you drive, the way you speak, your enthusiasm over dating sim games, everything and anything you're good with, or enjoy. He's trying to help you find other things you have control over, so you don't feel like you need to focus on just this one thing.

He buys more of your favourite foods. It's not a largely noticeable amount more he's buying them, but you'll find them around the house just a slight bit more often. A smart one that man is, it's much harder to resist things you love.

He doesn't comment on your eating at all. He doesn't get upset when you don't finish things and doesn't praise you when you do. He simply gives you the same affections for everything, a soft forehead kiss, and a gentle ruffle of your hair before taking the plate away. If you want more or something different, he knows you know to just ask.

Whether you gain weight or stay as you are he'll still touch you with all the same softness, and care. Loving, reverent, and gentle. You loves you to death, even if you hate yourself to hell.

When you stare at yourself in the mirror with disdain, he comes over and peppers you in kisses. He won't explain himself other than telling you he loves you and tickling you a bit.

“I love you, Darlin’. I love all your odd interests, and your enthusiasm about things I don't quite understand. I love everything about you. The way you move, and look at me. How you dance when your favourite song comes on. I love you, Darlin’, every last piece of ya.”