#i think this is another reason i like twelve too. twelve’s just got shit in there. chairs and blackboards and his guitar. it still feels

[quietwingsinthesky]

now that my friend pointed it out i cant stop thinking about the design of the tardis in the tv movie because 1) it was gorgeous but 2) that was a home. that was his home. he had a chair to lounge in and a record player. seeing the tardis in the tv show, that one huge console room, bigger on the inside and yeah, it’s impressive but it’s functional. (i’m assuming this is a budget thing, because it would probably be extremely impractical to have the kind of set they put together for the tv movie for every episode of an actual show lmao.)

there’s just something so. i think it’s the first time i’ve really looked at the doctor in the tardis and thought, right, he lives in there. rather than it just being his car. it is very funny to think of the doctor as a guy living out of his shitty van, but no, the tardis can be a home. it can be warm and comfy and full of knick-knacks.

[elliesglock]

okay so i'm gonna preface this by saying, i haven't wrote an analysis for a bit so im sorry if im a little rusty but im trying to rebuild my masterlist. hope you guys enjoy, happy reading 💕 always remember to lmk anything i forgot as well!

the lives starts off with aubrey and crackhead kk just doing shit. just being bad. they're giving a dorm tour and decide to go to another dorm where everybody's kinda hanging out.

when they walk in, immediately ines comes firing saying kk and aubrey are assholes. which says to me that none of the people in the dorm they're walking into know they're on live. therefore, azzi clarifies with kk and aubrey if they "are still on live" because for reasons i will get in soon she wants to make sure she ain't going to say nothing incriminating. as soon as kk sets her phone down she goes in the back kinda whispering to azzi which brings me to my theory (it's kinda not a theory cause it gets confirmed later) that this entire live azzi is on ft with paige. azzi kinda calls kk over and kk realizes she's on the phone w her girl. this is able to spearhead mission annoy tf out of azzi with aubrey and rope in paige while they do it. will explain in a sec as well. they whisper and act super completely normal (spoiler they don't but they think they do). azzi has her laptop opened and is shopping? with ines for something but ig ines is being indecisive cause this whole live she keeps giving options for things and ines can't figure out what she wants. i just find it funny in general that pazzi are literally 8 inches from each other and STILL facetiming. like personally im not doing that with my friends id just text them. now this might be delusional but theres a moment where the comments see azzi and they're like ohhh she's so pretty! and kk points this out and tells azzi they said you're so pretty...and yall why i lowkey hear paige flying off the seat of her pants on facetime jealous as hell. now this alone really wouldn't convince me she was talking but everyone's reactions are lowkey so not nonchalant cause why kk hooting and hollering saying "ohhhh!!" and giggling as soon as i hear paige's voice? girl what was she saying? she was cussing some little twelve year olds out huh? what also convinces theyre on facetime is the fact that azzi is talking and holding up a conversation while everyone around her is not talking. so obv if no one is talking back to her that we can hear she's having a conversation on her phone. most likely with paige. i lowkey think paige is helping azzi out with whatever ines wants or is doing, because there's moments you can hear paige talking while everyone has their mouths closed. like look at them helping their first born pick out her outfits aweeee.

now when they turn this game on it starts getting chaotic as hell so just bear with me. i'm trying to listen to background convos while these mfs got their tv on 85 burning the paint off the walls so. during about 17:55, it's silent enough to hear FOR SURE paige is on the phone. she says something about glasses and we know how her minnesota ass says glasses. which tells me that that whole time azzi was helping out ines paige was in the conversation too. now what they were doing i have no idea. now, i think the shopping or studying or whatever was happening near azzi is done, everybody disperses and moves or leaves.

now rhis next part blows the fuck outta me 😒 a comment asks, "where's paige?" to which kk answers "minding her business!" immediately you hear azzi in the back go paige! and it almost sounds like she's saying it to her phone and she lowkey sound irritated like why is anybody bringing up my girl. kk and aubrey catch this tone and decide yeahhhh it's time to troll tf outta her rn. aubrey kinda makes a teasing remark to azzi like, "yeah where is she?" hinting at the fact azzi is on the phone with her and knows EXACTLY what's she's doing and where she is. aubrey is doing that annoying friend thing where she's maybe teasing azzi for being on the phone with her girlfriend and trying to be sneaky about it. now i think azzi over the teasing cause aubrey asks to say hi to paige on the phone (basically confirming that paige was on the phone the whole time) and azzi says, "i'll twist your knee into the thing!" before handing the phone over to her. aubrey gets the phone from kk and blows an air kiss to paige. she watches the phone and you can hear paige whispering. i personally think she's asking what azzi is doing or how she's acting. cause aubrey immediately looks up at azzi and smiles like she knows paige is trying to see if azzi's mad at her. and then aubrey, not giving up on the teasing, says "i told you i miss you man!" really loud into h the phone, immediately looking up to watch az's reaction. i think they tryna tease azzi but acting like azzi and paige do on the phone. but personally that's just how i read the situation and in my head i feel like that's what their behavior is showing me. now aubrey hand the phone off talking about "im being a menace" which girl we know but you better be careful around big az like im scared for you and even more scared for paige....

so kk and aubrey are talking about being menaces and paige sounds like she says, "what's she doing?" and they most likely flip the camera around. aubrey wiggles her eyebrows almost like paige is watching azzi and she knows she being extraaaaaa heart eyes central today. and in my humble petty opinion i bet azzi flips off the camera or says something and they all start laughing and gasping. but this parts iffy, paige could also be saying "ofc you do". now this next part is CRAZY ASF i think this is probably something you could use to convince deniers paige and azzi are together. so there's a comment that pops up that says "aww her girl otp" obviously implying azzi's on the phone with her girl. aubrey reads the comment and goes beserk and starts laughing and pointing it out to kk. kk giggles showing paige. we know she shows paige because her no survival instincts head ass goes, "yeah kk's girl on the phone." this is around the time azzi comes running up to the phone asking what the comment said. now this live we get some juicy juicy jealous/pouty azzi and she lowkey sounds like she's mad as hell. so paige and azzi are bickering back and forth cause u know she just gonna dogpile on azzi when she's pouty cause she, for one, has no self preservation skills and 2 she likes when her girl gets mad at her (kinky ass). paige being a lil sassy masc on the phone huffing and puffing mocking azzi and she says "take a break." to which paige replies, "take a big break!" in that sassy little tone of hers. i think she can recognize azzi's pouty and moody and doesn't like being made fun of so she's having fun watching her get all upset when she teases her. poor azzi girl i know when my girl teases me when im already about to jump and fly off the handle it makes me soooooo irritated but at the end of the day thats the good stuff. im sure they would rather be annoying each other all day than be apart and that's just the truth. kk makes fun of everybody asking for paige by saying its "pilates bueckers" and that's azzi's "cousin"

and it's so funny to me because if they were GENUINELY JUST FRIENDS they would not react the way they do. they'd be laughing adding onto the joke like they do with everything else but they don't. azzi most likely makes a fun and is like ewwww and paige goes "you sick." mostly because who tf wants to be called your gf's cousin? yuckkkk. now paige spends a minute just flaming the audience for no good reason other than she getting a ki off of annoying everyone on planet earth atm ig. so paige got some guac on ft and these hungry hungry girls see it and say oooo we wanna go downstairs and get some. azzi immediately stops what she's doing and is like im gonna come down there too in this threatening ass voice. now here's my theory. paige and azzi were talking about having a movie night on the phone you can hear them. so obviously azzi is gonna get annoyed when her friends go down to paige's room (where she was just about to go) to go eat. it's almost like she says "i'm gonna come down there too" to warn paige when she need to quit acting cute and get everybody out so they can have their cuddle sesh. basically hinting at paige, when i get my ass down there that means everybody need to clear out. i also think her voice just sounds so urgenttrrr, she's like waittttt not without me i wanna go downstairs and see my girl too just not with all yall in there. i think that's why she sounds so impatient/irritated. missing p-itis got her good.

so girl. after they go downstairs. all a mess. poor amari they was clowning on her guac so bad. so in between the puking and fighting for her life that kk's doing for 5 mins, i'd like to point out that paige really doesn't act like she knows kk is on live. kk kinda bursts in her room and is fake puking for some reason .... and she never really sees kk is still on live. i'll break it down more in my script but, we hear a little robot voice go, "call from azzi fudd." and it dings like paige picks it up. now yall why this bitch say babyyyy when she answers it. and then says hello. mind you she says baby in a weird voice but that's how she answers it. sigh my babygirl/baby paige agenda is thriving atm. now i'm gonna end this exactly how i thought azzi meant by when she said "im finna come down there too." kk is sitting on paige's bed and talking to her when we hear the door open. very obv you can hear azzi say, "cmon don't piss me off" like basically shooing kk cause she wants some time with her girl. and i jus imagine paige holding her hands up like what the wife says goes when kk looks at her. cause she know she damn wrong for how she was teasing and she's not trying to get in anymore trouble, smart girl. but also they just wanna spend time together too and i know that cuddle + movie combo SMACKED. i wish i was a fly on the wall.

suarrrr i know how much yall liked this analysis so i had to bring it back. sorry if it isn't the og but hey it's something! i'm also releasing the script for this live tonight about the same time i release this...thank yall!

[takeyrregrets]

Idea! So I was thinking, how about a always cheerful popular reader, like nothing can dampen his mood and no one has seen him upset + a delinquent.

So, the reader is from a poor family and lives in a run down apartment where the doors are squeaky and the elevator always shuts down. He only has his mother left after his father disappeared when he was young. And ever since young he always has been able to make friends easily, except for the fact that they never stick around, always disappearing for odd reasons, their parents getting a new job somewhere else, getting a new friend group, the same thing went for his things like for fucks sake his favorite ball got stolen by a bird. So after a while he starts to accept that nothing will stick around, enjoying his time with people and going out of his way to hang out with them. But, when he meets the delinquent he immediately falls in love never leaving him alone, before realizing that he probably shouldn't try getting into a relationship with him. So he starts trying to ship the delinquent with someone else, not knowing that the delinquent fell in love too and wasn't about to let him go.

Holy shit this was long

-🦭

𝗜 𝗪𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗢𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗗𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘅 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗲𝗿𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗠𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 this was a really cute!--And really sad prompt, also I love the amount of detail you put in omg

The elevator was broken again. Of course it was. You huffed a laugh under your breath, sneakers scuffing against the cracked tiles as you started up the stairs. Twelve flights wasn't so bad. You'd done worse. Your backpack swung side to side, stuffed with the leftovers Mrs. Langston had handed you from the bakery — she'd caught you eyeing the cupcakes again for what must be the hundredth time. People are nice, you thought, humming. Even if they don't stick around forever, even if jobs moved them or life swept them away — they stayed, for a little while at least. And that was enough.

You reached your floor, stepping over the spot where the carpet had worn down to nothing. Your apartment door squeaked when you pushed it open. Inside, the lights flickered once, twice, before settling into a dim yellow. Your mom's voice floated from the living room where she sat on the couch, counting out every dollar bill--figuring out how much could be spent for the following month

You smiled. You were lucky. It wasn’t much, but it was home. You liked the creaky floors and the peeling paint. They reminded you that some things could survive even if they weren't perfect.

You first met the schools so called "delinquent" when you were sitting on the curb after school, waiting for a bus that was already an hour late.

He was leaning against the bust stop sign, cigarette dangling from his lips, hoodie pulled up like he was daring someone to bother him.

You waved at him. Big grin, wide and open, like he wasn’t the scariest guy on campus. "You waiting for the bus too?" you asked.

He just stared at you like you’d spoken another language. Then shrugged, unsure, and suspicion all over his face.

You laughed, shoving your hands in your pockets. "Cool. Guess we’re both screwed, huh?"

He didn’t smile. But he didn’t walk away either.

That was enough. After that, you started showing up wherever he was. Park benches. Behind the school dumpsters. At the corner store where he loitered like he had nowhere better to be. You didn't ask permission. You just sat down next to him and started talking.

At first, he barely acknowledged you. But slowly — so slowly you almost missed it — he started listening. Then answering. One-word answers. Shrugs. Then eventually, full sentences.

He even walked you home once, shoving his hands deep into his pockets like he was mad at himself for it.

You thought he was just being nice. It felt better to ignore the fact he only acted this way with you. It hit you one afternoon. You were sitting on the curb again, eating cheap gas station sandwiches, and you looked over at him, and your heart just... ached.

You liked him. A lot.

And because you liked him..., you couldn’t be selfish.

You knew better than anyone that nothing good stayed. You weren’t going to drag him into that. You weren’t going to let him end up another thing you broke just by touching.

So you started trying to set him up with other people. Though he was quick to set you straight...

"You and Mari would be cute together," you said one day, kicking at a pebble on the sidewalk.

He didn't even look up from his phone. "No."

You laughed, playing it off. "What about AJ? He’s cool. He’s into the same music as you."

"No."

You frowned. "You can’t just say no to everyone, dummy."

"I can when they're not you," he muttered.

You froze. Your breath caught somewhere between your chest and your throat.

He realized what he said a second too late. His jaw tightened. His eyes darted away, like he wanted to shove the words back into his mouth.

You forced out a laugh — too loud, too fake — and shoved his shoulder playfully. "Don't joke like that!" you teased, heart cracking wide open.

He just stared at you for a long, heavy moment. Like he wanted to say something else. Something dangerous. But then he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and muttered, "Forget it."

You wanted to ask what he meant. You wanted to reach for him.

But you didn’t. Because you were a coward. Because you knew how this story ended.

Instead, you smiled your biggest, brightest smile — the one you used to hold yourself together when you were breaking apart inside.

"Let's go get slushies," you said, yanking at his sleeve. "Race ya!"

He let you drag him along, grumbling under his breath.

But you didn't miss the way his fingers brushed yours when he thought you wouldn't notice. You didn't miss the way he stayed close, always just half a step behind, like if he let you get too far, you'd disappear.

And maybe you would have, once.

But not this time. You were sitting on the curb again. Same spot as the first day you met him. The bus was late. (Of course.) The sky was smudged gray, the air heavy with that feeling right before rain.

He sat next to you, hoodie up, legs stretched out like he didn’t care about anything.

You wanted to say something. You wanted to tell him that maybe you were tired of letting things slip away. That maybe you were ready — terrified, but ready — to hold onto something for once.

But you didn't know how. So you muttered, softly, quietly, almost afraid he would actually hear "Hey Kaz?..What if...things actually stayed you know...constant..?" You looked up into the sky, eyeing the grey clouds with suspicion, avoiding his gaze "I mean, it’s kinda dumb, right? Stuff never stays. It's just better to enjoy it while it lasts." He was silent for a long moment.

Then he said, voice low, rough, like he was dragging it up from somewhere deep, "I'm not going anywhere."

You froze.

You stared at him.

He stared back, something almost desperate burning in his gaze.

Your heart hammered so loud you could barely hear yourself breathe.

"I—" He started, sitting up straighter, fists clenched on his knees. "I don't care if you think it's stupid. I'm not leaving. I don't care if you try to push me away. I lo—"

SCREEEEEECH.

The bus lurched around the corner, brakes screaming as it pulled up in front of you.

He flinched like he'd been slapped. You flinched too, the moment snapping like a rubber band stretched too tight.

He stood up fast, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, scowling at the ground.

You stood too, awkward and breathless, still half turned toward him, wanting to stay in that almost-place just a little longer.

But the bus doors hissed open. The driver leaned out, impatient.

"You getting on or what?" he barked.

You hesitated. He didn't look at you. He just muttered, "Text me when you get home."

You opened your mouth — to say what, you didn’t even know — but the driver honked the horn, and you stumbled onto the bus, half dizzy.

As the bus pulled away, you twisted in your seat to look back.

He was still there, hands stuffed in his pockets, hoodie slouched over his head.

Watching you.

Like he was afraid you’d vanish the second he blinked.

You pressed your forehead against the bus window and closed your eyes. Your heart was still racing.

He wasn’t leaving.

He had almost said it.

And you — You almost said it back.

Maybe next time.

[fullsunstrawberry]

Dirty little secret

Synopsis: Childhood best friends' relationship is strained when you drunkenly sleep with his new best friend. Chenle’s panic about y/n regretting their one night stand turns into a secret relationship. Just as you think everything is fine, you're faced with the ultimatum: “It’s either him or me.” or in other words: A small silly little pinky promise will destroy a friendship

Genre: friends to lovers, hidden romance, forbidden (not really) lovers??

Content Warnings: swearing, dreamies getting drunk, mention of getting blackout drunk, one-night stand (not described), turned more, ANGST with fluffy end, Jisung is a little shit in this, very vanilia and sweet smut.

Word count: 7k

a/n: sorry this was a bit later than i expected for it come out! a lot of stuff popped up this weekend :( ALSO I HAVE TO TAG @lowkeychenle IN EVERYTHING CHENLE RELATED SOOOO LOVE YAH <3

Teaser Taglist: @haechansbbg @bunnychui @theandypark @bigjugz03 @babbymochiiii @xrminarlert34

"Come on! You never miss a hangout," Jisung whined into the phone.

“They always end up with me getting drunk and sleeping on the dorm couch, no thanks,” you replied.

“This time it’s at Chenle’s house. You can even sleep call dibs on his spare bedroom!” Jisung reasoned.

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” You already knew the answer.

“Nope, see you later!”

Once Jisung ended the call, you had a moment to think. Great, you got yourself into another hangout. It’s not that you hate hanging out with the guys, but you've started to develop a little crush on Chenle.

He’s been extra flirty with you lately. It’s not because he likes you. He's been playful with everyone! Well, that's what you try to tell yourself.

But you can't like him! Jisung would go nuts. He was the one to introduce you to all the guys, promising you wouldn't like any of them when you were twelve. But it seems like Jisung has held you up to that silly pinky promise.

One time you told Jisung that Renjun's new haircut looked really good on him and he freaked out, claiming you were falling for him and it was against the “Bro code.” This made you confused because you’re pretty sure that's not what bro code is, but he looked very upset, so you didn't question it.

Now there is no way you will ever admit to liking Chenle. If he got upset with Renjun, you know he would be furious if you even flirted back with Chenle. That’s his best friend! He’s not the type to be happy about his boy and girl best friend dating. You're sure he’s told Chenle so you never took his flirting too seriously. But that didn't stop your heart from beating after every time he looked at you.

A group of guys yelled as soon as Chenle opened the door. “They’re already this rowdy,” you sighed, already coming up with excuses as to why you had to leave.

Chenle laughed at your disapproval written all over your face. “Stick by me, I swear I'm not as bad as them.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing that he was literally the loudest one. You let out a “mmh” before walking around him to be greeted with a bunch of “Y/NNNNs.” You could definitely tell they started drinking without you by the way Donghyuck reached out to you with grabby hands.

“Already starting without me!” you grabbed an already-opened beer on the table and took a swig out of it.

“It's not our fault you're always late,” Jaemin teased.

“Sorry, I have a life.”

“Reading fanfiction?” Renjun giggled.

“Can’t believe I'm already getting attacked, I just arrived!”

“I told you to stick by me,” Chenle laughed.

“You're right. It’s me and you now… Let’s get drunk!” You smiled, grabbing another beer to give to Chenle.

You're glad you didn't have to wake up on a couch hungover. Waking up in a bed surrounded by the comfiest blanket wrapped around you felt like heaven. Not ever wanting to wake up.

You stretched to feel the coldness of the other side of the bed. But your leg hit another leg that wasn't your own. You don’t remember anything after Donghyuck’s karaoke challenge. Did someone sleep over too? Mark was supposed to pick up the guys and bring them back to the dorm… Maybe he forgot?

Moving your head to see who ended up passed out with you, you froze.

“WHY DON’T I HAVE ANY CLOTHES ON?!?”

Should you look? Should you not look? You slowly turn your head to check who you fell asleep with. Maybe you didn't hook up with one of your friends… Maybe you were just overheated and took off your clothes.

Turning over, you yelp in shock. Chenle is still sleeping next to you. Even worse, he’s shirtless, and you don’t really want to check under the sheets to confirm your suspicions.

But before you could panic any further, you noticed that Chenle was still sound asleep, a peaceful expression on his face. You took a moment to calm yourself down and gather your thoughts. Maybe there was a logical explanation for this situation.

You carefully wiggled out of the bed, making sure not to disturb Chenle. As you grabbed your clothes scattered across the room, memories of last night started to flood back. The drunken laughter, the friendly banter, and the way all of the guys left. All you could remember was cleaning up the kitchen because you felt bad leaving it such a mess.

Then Chenle's hands grabbed yours in protest and said he would clean it up in the morning. But instead of agreeing you tried to pull his hands away which caused him to press into you.

Shaking your head to bring yourself back to reality you quickly threw your clothes back on and made your way downstairs. Needing some water because of how dry your throat felt. You didn't want to even think about why your throat hurt...

Once downstairs you can finally think about what the hell just happened. But no, life hates you. Instead, you were met with Mark washing dishes.

"Finally you woke up" Mark laughed before turning around and being met with a face he did not expect to see.

"Why did you come down from Chenle’s room?" 

You blinked at Mark's question, trying to come up with a plausible response. "Oh, I just woke up and wanted some water," you stammered, attempting to act casual.

Mark raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Water? Really? Because it looked like you were in quite a rush to get out of there."

You felt the heat rising to your cheeks as you fumbled for words. "I just... didn't want to disturb Chenle. He's still sleeping, and I didn't want to wake him up."

Mark's eyes narrowed, studying your face. "Uh-huh. Sure." He seemed unconvinced, but he didn't press further. Instead, he went back to washing the dishes.

You took the opportunity to escape the awkward situation and headed towards the kitchen table “What do I do Mark, I fucked up.” 

Mark sighed, turned off the water, and dried his hands on a kitchen towel before looking at you with a serious expression. "Well, it depends on what you want. Did something happen between you and Chenle last night?"

You hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest with Mark. "I don't remember much, but I woke up in his bed, and I think we hooked up. I have no idea what went down, and I'm panicking."

Mark sighed again, his expression softening. "Look, Y/N, shit happens. People get drunk, things get blurry. Maybe nothing happened, or maybe something did. The important thing is to communicate with Chenle. Figure out what both of you remember and how you both feel about it."

"But what if he thinks it’s gross or something?" you worriedly questioned.

Mark shook his head. "Chenle is a good guy, and he knows how things can happen when everyone's been drinking. Just talk to him. Honesty is the key here."

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. 

• ──────── •

Before you could process the situation, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the stairs. Chenle, struggling to pull on his hoodie and hastily reaching for his keys, descended in a rush of movement.

"Easy there, you going to hurt yourself" Mark teased, chuckling as Chenle glanced up with an expression of sheer panic.

"Mark, fuck! I messed up big time. Y/N's going to hate me, and she'll never want to see me again. I genuinely like her, and I've messed everything up," Chenle exclaimed, the urgency in his voice evident.

Mark raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with you. "Well, you might want to talk to her about that instead of assuming the worst," he suggested.

Chenle's eyes widened as he finally noticed your presence. "Y/N, I... I'm so sorry if I did something wrong. I don't really remember what happened, but I know we something did happen, and now I'm just freaking out," he rambled, looking genuinely distressed.

You took a deep breath, trying to ease the tension in the room. "Chenle, let's just talk about it, okay? I don't remember much either, but panicking won't help. We need to figure out what actually happened and how we both feel about it."

Chenle nodded, relief washing over his face. "Yeah, you're right. We should talk." He looked at Mark, who gave him an encouraging nod. 

“This is something you two have to figure out.” Mark grabbed his jacket and left. 

As Mark left, you and Chenle sat down at the kitchen table, exchanging nervous glances. The awkwardness in the air was noticeable, but both of you knew that avoiding the conversation wouldn't solve anything.

"Okay, so, let's try to piece together what happened last night," you suggested, breaking the silence.

Chenle nodded, his eyes focused on the table. "I remember the guys leaving, and you were helping me with the dishes. Then... things got a bit blurry."

You sighed, realizing that your memories matched his. "Yeah, I remember that too. But after that, it's all a blur. I woke up in your bed, and we're both... well, you know."

Chenle ran his fingers through his hair, looking frustrated. "I don't want things to be weird between us. I genuinely like you, Y/N. I just hope I didn't mess everything up."

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on his. "Chenle, I really like you too. Maybe we can start over?"

Chenle's eyes brightened at your words, a genuine smile forming on his face. "Yeah, let's start over. How about I take you to a restaurant and we can finish this conversation.” 

“Are you asking me on a date!” You smiled.

Chenle grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah, I am. I think we could both use a fresh start. We can go right now!”

You laughed and shook your head ‘no’ “We can go later, I have to get ready for it.”

“Oh…yeah ops” Chenle laughed standing back up “How about tonight?” 

“Can’t wait a little longer?” You teased.

“Hell no! Not when it comes to you.”

You couldn't help but blush at Chenle's enthusiastic response. "Alright then, tonight it is. I'll make sure to be ready for our date."

Chenle grinned, his excitement contagious. "Perfect! I'll pick you up later. 

• ──────── •

As you got ready for the date, you took extra care with your appearance. You wanted to make a good impression, to show Chenle that you were genuinely interested in exploring this connection further. You could already feel the butterflies in your stomach

The hours crept by slowly, each minute feeling like an eternity as anticipation filled the air.

 Finally, the moment arrived. Chenle looked exceptionally handsome in his casual attire, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He smiled warmly as he handed them to you, his eyes filled with genuine affection.

"You look…beautiful," he said softly, causing your cheeks to flush with a rosy hue.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling yourself becoming more at ease in his presence. "You look pretty amazing yourself."

Chenle chuckled and offered you his arm. "Shall we?” 

You linked your arm with his, nodding with a smile. "Let's go."

The date with Chenle was everything you’d hoped for and more. The restaurant was a familiar place, a small little shop that you once mentioned wanting to visit before. The atmosphere was cozy and inviting, with wooden tables, soft cushions, and flickering candles that cast gentle shadows on the walls. Soft music played in the background, a soothing blend of piano and strings that set the perfect mood for the evening.

Chenle was charming from the moment he sat down, his eyes sparkling with excitement and if you didn’t know him well you could have missed the nervousness he expressed through his body language. He pulled your chair out for you, a sweet gesture that made your heart flutter. 

“You remembered?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

“Of course I did,” he replied, a smile playing on his lips. “I’ve been looking forward to taking you here.” You tried to keep your blush in check, but his smile made it impossible. 

His earlier jitters seemed to fade as the night went on, replaced by genuine enthusiasm. He asked about your day, listened intently, and shared stories that made you laugh, his laughter infectious. It was clear he had put thought into every aspect of the evening, from the restaurant choice to the easy flow of conversation.

Throughout the evening, Chenle’s attentiveness and charm were evident. He complimented you effortlessly. “I know I already told you but you look absolutely beautiful,” he said sincerely.

“Thank you,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm. “You’re not looking too shabby yourself.” You joked, earning a small laugh from him.

As the waiter brought your dishes, Chenle made a toast. “To a fantastic evening and getting to know each other even better.”

You clinked glasses. “To new beginnings.”

You both laughed together, “Was that too cheesy?” Chenle asked. 

You shook your head no, “This is just crazy, I didn’t expect all of this from you. You know? Being so romantic!”

Chenle chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "I wanted to make sure our first real date was special. I know things got off to a confusing start, but I really like you, Y/N. I want to see where this can go."

Your heart fluttered at his words, feeling a warmth spread on your cheeks. "I really like you too, Chenle. And I appreciate all the effort you've put into tonight."

The conversation flowed easily. You shared stories, jokes, and dreams, discovering things you never knew about each other. Chenle's eyes never left yours, his gaze soft.

“You know,” Chenle said, leaning in slightly, “I’ve been really looking forward to this. It’s been a while since I’ve had a date where I felt this comfortable.”

“I’m glad you’re having a good time,” you said, your heart fluttering at his words. “I am too.”

During a brief pause in the conversation, Chenle reached across the table and took your hand. “I’ve been thinking,” he said softly, “I really enjoy being with you. I’d love for us to spend more time together, if you’re up for it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I’d like that a lot.”

Chenle smiled, a mix of relief and happiness on his face. “Great. I was hoping you would.”

As the night drew to a close, Chenle walked you to your door. The night air was cool against your skin, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves overhead. 

“Do you think we can make this a regular thing?” Chenle asked, his voice hopeful.

You smiled warmly. “I’d like that a lot.”

Chenle’s face lit up with a bright, genuine grin. “Me too. I’m really glad we talked things through.”

He leaned in, and for a brief, breathless moment, you thought he might kiss you. But instead, he pulled you into a warm hug, holding you close.

When you finally pulled away and said goodnight, you closed the door with a smile on your face, feeling like you were floating on air. Chenle had gone beyond all your expectations, and as you leaned against the door, you couldn’t help but replay the night in your mind, already missing him. 

Reaching into your bag you grabbed your phone and called Chenle. The phone rang a couple of times before he picked up. 

“Hey, you miss me already?” Chenle’s voice came through the phone. 

You chuckled at his playful tone. “Maybe… only just a little bit.” 

“What’s on your mind?” Chenle's voice held a teasing lilt as he waited for your response.

You hesitated for a moment, mumbling “Just wishing you would have kissed me”

Chenle went silent for a moment, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again. "Well, I can fix that."

Before you could even process his words, you heard a light knock on your door. Confusion filled you as you made your way back, wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you. As you opened the door, there stood Chenle, breath heavy.

"Surprise," he said softly.

Your heart leaped in your chest as Chenle closed the gap between you, cupping your face gently with his free hand. Leaning in, Chenle pressed his lips against yours in a soft, tender kiss.

As Chenle pulled back slightly, his eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. But all he found was a dazed smile on your face. With a chuckle, he leaned in again, deepening the kiss.

His hands found your waist and he pressed you further into your house. With one foot, he closed the door behind him, never breaking the kiss between you two.

Chenle pulled away, a small whine leaving your lips in the absence of his touch. He chuckled before making sure your door was locked and turning back towards you. 

Without a word, Chenle lifted you effortlessly into his arms, carrying you towards the living room and towards your bedroom. He set you down gently on your bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he caressed your cheek with a tender touch.

The tension filled the room. Chenle's gaze was intense, you could feel your heart racing.

"I've been thinking of you," he confessed, his voice husky with emotion. "I can't hold back anymore."

You reached up to cup his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. "Then don't," you whispered, barely able to believe this was really happening

Chenle’s lips met yours again in an instant, this kiss deeper and more urgent. His hands roamed your sides, pulling you closer, each touch sending shivers down your spine and making you dizzy with desire.

He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice soft, breathless, but filled with genuine concern.

You nodded, your fingers brushing through his hair. “Yes, I’m sure,” you whispered.

Chenle smiled, his expression softening. “Good,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He trailed kisses down your jawline, his touch igniting every nerve in your body. You tugged him closer, and he responded eagerly, deepening the kiss once more.

Chenle’s movements grew more confident, more assured, as he felt your response. He gently guided you back against the couch, his body hovering over yours. His kisses grew more passionate and demanding as his hands continued to explore. You could feel the tension building between you, the air thick with anticipation of what was going to happen.

In one swift motion, he pulled away just long enough to remove his shirt, tossing it aside before his hands returned to you, now with a new urgency. You mirrored his actions, discarding your dress and pulling him back down, feeling the sensation of his skin against yours. The closeness amplified every touch.

Chenle’s lips trailed down your body, leaving a path of kisses along your collarbone and down to your chest. His hands were everywhere, exploring, teasing, learning every curve and contour of your body. A soft moan escaped your lips as his kisses became more insistent, his mouth and hands working together to drive you wild.

You pulled him closer, needing to feel him, to have every inch of him pressed against you. Your hands roamed his back, your nails lightly scratching as you both lost yourselves in the heat of the moment.

“God, I’ve been wanting this for so long,” Chenle murmured against your skin as he pushed into you. His words sent a fresh wave of warmth through you, and you responded by wrapping your legs around his waist, drawing him even closer. The sensation of him against you, the weight of his body, the heat between you—it was almost too much.

Your breaths mingled, rapid and uneven, as the rhythm between you quickened. Chenle’s hands moved with purpose, guiding your hips as you moved together, a perfect and desperate synchrony that had you both gasping. You could feel every beat of his heart, every shiver of anticipation as you inched closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, i’m so close” Chenle groaned, picking up his pace. You couldn’t even respond, only broken moans leaving your lips.

As both of you hit your climax together, moans and gasps filled the room, giving way to an intense wave of pleasure that washed over you both.

Chenle pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he met your gaze. He wanted to say something but he didn’t instead his body collapsed against the sheets next to you.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back as you both lay in a comfortable silence. “I don’t want this to end,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

As you drifted off to sleep in Chenle’s arms, the events of the night replayed in your mind, leaving you with a sense of contentment you hadn’t felt in a long time. You didn’t know what was going to happen next.

• ──────── •

Over the next few weeks, your bond with Chenle grew stronger, despite your attempts to keep things under wraps—especially from Jisung. But it was becoming harder to hide. Chenle’s growing affection was obvious, and your friends were starting to pick up on the subtle changes in your behavior.

Chenle conviced the guys to start doing movie night at the guy’s dorms instead of his house. Telling everyone that his house was a mess and he didn’t want to clean it. Hiding the real reason. That they started catching on to you staying later than everyone else. He wanted to be able to hang out after, just the two of you. 

“What are we watching tonight?” Mark asked, plopping down in the middle of the couch.

“Avatar,” Renjun suggested.

Donghyuck groaned. “Not Avatar again!”

“We watched *Top Gun* last time, so let’s watch the sequel,” you offered, taking your usual spot at the end of the couch.

Mark nodded and started searching for the movie.

Chenle slid in beside you, so casually that you didn’t think much of it. But in hindsight, you should have known it would cause some tension.

When Jisung finally joined with the popcorn, he automatically moved to sit next to you, just as he always did. But when he saw Chenle already there, he hesitated before sitting down beside him, hiding his confusion. If you hadn’t been so focused on Chenle, you might have noticed the brief furrow in Jisung’s brow. Instead, you were caught up in the excitement of being close to Chenle, hoping to sneak a few quiet moments together.

As the movie began and Jeno turned off the lights, you tried to relax, but Chenle’s presence beside you made your heart race. When his arm brushed against yours and his fingeres brushing against your thigh. Each small touch sent a shiver down your spine.

Jisung, sitting just inches away, stared at the screen, his face unreadable. He usually laughed along with everyone, throwing in his own jokes, but tonight he was unusually quiet. Occasionally, his eyes would drift toward you and Chenle, only to snap back to the movie when you glanced his way. If any of your friends noticed his unease, they didn’t mention it.

Jaemin, oblivious to the tension, tossed a piece of popcorn at Donghyuck after another snide remark about the movie. The usual banter continued, but you could feel a strange tension in the air, something you couldn’t quite understand.

A few scenes into the movie, Chenle’s hand found yours, his fingers lightly brushing yours before intertwining them. The simple gesture felt both comforting and thrilling. You knew you should be more careful, especially with Jisung so close, but it was hard to resist Chenle’s attention.

Jisung shifted uncomfortably. Though you were focused on Chenle, the small movement caught your attention. You turned to look at him just as he glanced away, his expression closed off and distant. It was so unlike him, and it tugged at your conscience.

Suddenly, Jeno, who had been relatively quiet, cleared his throat, catching everyone’s attention. “So... anyone notice how cozy these two are getting?” He nodded toward you and Chenle, a smirk on his face.

The room fell silent for a moment. Your cheeks burned as you pulled your hand from Chenle’s, hoping the dim lighting hid your embarrassment. Chenle chuckled softly, trying to play it off, but you could feel the tension building.

Jaemin snickered. “Took you long enough to notice, Jeno.”

You tried to laugh along, but the awkwardness was overwhelming. Jisung’s face remained unreadable, though you noticed his jaw tighten slightly. You wanted to say something to ease the tension, but the words wouldn’t come.

Mark, always the peacemaker, tried to steer the focus back to the movie. “Alright, let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”

But the mood had shifted. The lighthearted atmosphere was gone, and the weight of unspoken words hung in the air. Jisung’s silence was the most noticeable, and you had a sinking feeling that this wouldn’t end well.

As the movie played on, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Instead, your thoughts swirled, questions nagging at you. What did Jisung think? Is he mad at you and Chenle? And more importantly, why did it matter so much?

When the film ended, everyone scattered—some headed to the kitchen for snacks, while others stayed on the couch, chatting. You felt a strange mix of relief and anxiety, glad that the movie was over but nervous about what might happen next.

As you stood up to stretch, you noticed Jisung was still on the couch, his eyes fixed on the screen as if deep in thought. You hesitated, feeling an urge to talk to him, to address the tension. But before you could do anything, Chenle leaned in close, his voice soft.

“I’m sorry,” Chenle whispered in your ear.

You couldn’t help but smile a little. Turning to face him, you whispered back, “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Squeezing his hand lightly, trying to comfort him.

But you quickly pulled your hand away when you heard Jisung yell, “What is going on?!”

The room fell into a tense silence as Jisung’s voice echoed, his sudden outburst freezing everyone in place. All eyes turned to him, but his gaze was fixed on you and Chenle, a mix of confusion and hurt etched across his face.

You felt your heart drop, panic rising in your chest. Jisung rarely lost his cool, and seeing him like this made the situation all the more real. Chenle, who had been so calm and collected moments before, shifted uncomfortably beside you, clearly taken aback by Jisung's reaction.

Mark was the first to break the silence, his voice tentative. "Jisung, hey, it's just a movie night. Let's all just—"

But Jisung wasn’t having it. "No, it’s not just a movie night, Mark," he snapped, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Chenle. "Something's been going on, and no one's saying anything!"

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, to calm him down, but the words caught in your throat.

Chenle, sensing your distress, took a small step forward, placing himself slightly between you and Jisung. "Jisung, listen, it’s not what you think—"

"Then what is it?" Jisung demanded, his voice laced with frustration. "Because it sure looks like you two have been hiding something from all of us. From me."

The hurt in his voice cut through you, and guilt twisted in your stomach. Jisung wasn’t just angry; he was hurt. And you knew why. He’d always been open with his feelings, always the one to bring everyone together, and now, he felt left out—betrayed, even.

Donghyuck, usually the one to defuse any tension with a joke, stood awkwardly to the side. Renjun and Jaemin exchanged worried glances, while Jeno just stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

You took a deep breath, finally finding the courage to speak. "Jisung, I'm sorry. We didn’t mean to keep anything from you."

"Then why did you?" Jisung’s voice was softer now, but the hurt was still there, raw and real.

"Because we didn’t even know what was happening," you admitted, your voice shaking slightly. "We didn’t want to make things weird or hurt anyone’s feelings. Especially not yours."

Chenle nodded in agreement, his expression serious. "We weren’t trying to keep secrets, Jisung. It just…happened. And we’re sorry for how it’s affected you."

Jisung looked between the two of you, the anger slowly draining from his face, replaced by something sadder, more vulnerable. "I just don’t get why you didn’t talk to me. You always talk to me."

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Jisung had always been there for you, always ready to listen, to help, and now you realized how much your secrecy had hurt him. "I’m sorry," you whispered, stepping closer to him. "I should have talked to you. I just…I just I didn’t want to mess up our friendship.”

For a long, tense moment, Jisung said nothing. His eyes were fixed on the floor, his thoughts clearly in turmoil. The room was thick with tension, everyone holding their breath, waiting for his response.

When he finally looked up, his expression was calmer, but there was a guardedness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "You promised me," he said softly, the words tinged with quiet betrayal. "We promised never to keep secrets from each other."

Suddenly, his calm facade cracked, and anger surged through him. He pointed sharply at Chenle, his voice rising with emotion. "YOU PROMISED ME!"

Chenle looked down, guilt written across his face as Jisung continued, his voice trembling with a mix of hurt and frustration. "You promised me that you would never go after her. She was supposed to be off-limits."

The room seemed to shrink, the weight of Jisung's words hanging heavy in the air. Everyone else was too shocked to speak.

Chenle flinched at Jisung’s accusation, his expression one of regret and confusion. "Jisung," he began, voice barely above a whisper, "I didn’t plan any of this. I didn’t think I’d—"

"That’s the problem!" Jisung cut him off, his voice shaking. "You didn’t think! You just… acted. Everything is a joke to you."

You could feel the tears welling up, your heart aching at the sight of Jisung so broken, so unlike his usual self. This was the Jisung who’d been your rock, the one who always made you laugh when you were down, and now, you were the one who’d hurt him.

"Jisung, please," you pleaded, your voice cracking. "I didn’t know how to handle this. I never wanted to hurt you."

The room remained silent, everyone acutely aware that they were intruding on something intensely personal. Jeno shifted uncomfortably, Renjun bit his lip, and Donghyuck looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

You finally broke the tense silence, your voice trembling. 'What can I do...?'

“Stop,” Jisung interrupted, his tone firm and unyielding. You frowned, confused by the sudden command.

“Stop this right now,” he said, frustration clear in his voice.

Before you could reply, Chenle spoke up, concern in his tone. “Jisung, what are you trying to say—”

“It’s either me or him,” Jisung interrupted, his eyes fixed on you with intensity.

Chenle glanced at you, waiting for your answer, but you found yourself unable to speak.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Chenle stepped back from you. “She chooses you.”

As he left, he murmured, “I’m not going to force you to choose.”

When the door closed behind him, an uneasy silence fell over the room. You looked around, noticing the apologetic expressions on the other guys’ faces.

You got all your stuff before looking at Jisung one more time and let out a small “I’m really sorry.” before leaving. 

• ──────── •

Days turned into weeks before you were able to hang out with the boys again. When you finally did, it was clear that Chenle wasn’t himself. The atmosphere felt strained and uneasy.

Chenle's usually cheerful demeanor was not there, and he seemed distant, lost in his own thoughts. The conversations among the group felt forced, and laughter that used to come easily now seemed rare.

As the day wore on, you found yourself increasingly concerned. When you finally got a moment alone with Chenle, you decided to address the issue.

“Hey, it’s nice seeing you again.”

Chenle smiled a little bit, “It’s nice seeing you too.” A moment off awkward silence settled between you two. 

“Y/n, lets start over…For everyones sake.”

You nodded, a smile on your face. You’ll finally get to see Chenle again. Hopefully the group hangouts would go back to normal. 

As you were clouded with hope, Chenle’s emotions were different. He didn’t want to pretend to be fine. But he would do anything for you.  As the guys returned Chenle put a small on his face and started being like his old self. The guys all started to brighten up. You couldn’t help but smile. Everything was going back to normal…Finally. 

• ──────── •

You were worried to have another movie night. Every movie night seems to be the cause of something bad.

But you didnt want to let it affect you. Chenle has been working very hard on restoring the peace. It had been weeks since the fight between you, Jisung, and Chenle. However things started to improve, you couldn’t shake off the worry that it might all go wrong again. But Chenle had been putting in a lot of effort to smooth things over, and you hoped the peace would last.

When the night finally arrived, the atmosphere was lighter than it had been in weeks. Chenle was trying his best to act like his old self, and it seemed like he was succeeding— at least on the surface. The guys were chatting and laughing, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope.

Mark, Renjun, and Jaemin were debating which movie to watch, and you joined in with a smile, trying to enjoy the moment. Donghyuck was making jokes, and the room was filled with a sense of normalcy that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Chenle, sitting next to you, seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. He threw a playful glance your way and nudged you with his shoulder, trying to break through the lingering awkwardness. You appreciated the effort and responded with a smile, though a part of you was still on edge.

Jisung sat down on the floor, across from you. “Oh Y/n, I met a guy who I think you would get along with.” 

You glanced sideways and noticed Chenle stiffen next to you. His casual demeanor from earlier seemed to waver, and a flicker of discomfort crossed his face. You tried to keep your expression neutral, though you were tense.

“oh um…” You didn’t know how to react. How could Jisung even ask that? Let alone around everyone else. 

Jisung not understanding or not caring about your discomfort continued. “He’s really into music and literature, and he’s got this great sense of humor. I think you two would get along really well.”

Chenle shifted slightly, his hand moving to rest on his knee. You could feel the subtle change in his body language, his usual act replaced by a subtle unease.

Jaemin, noticing the tension, lightly shoved Jisung on the shoulder “Come on, stop that.”

Jisung shrugged, “I’ll send you his number.” 

This was the final straw for Chenle. His demeanor shifted suddenly, his earlier attempts at playing civil were gone.. He stood up, unable to mask his frustration any longer.

“You’re cruel,” Chenle interjected, his voice tighter than usual, “Don’t act like im not right here.”

The room fell into a stunned silence. The casual banter ceased, replaced by an awkward tension that hung heavily in the air. Chenle’s outburst had caught everyone off guard, and even Jisung looked taken aback.

You quickly turned to Chenle, trying to offer a reassuring smile, but it was clear that the situation was beyond the point of acting like everything was fine. You felt a pang of guilt for not dealing with the situation better. 

“I’m sorry, Chenle,” you said softly, reaching out for his hand. 

Chenle took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. “It’s not your fault, It was never your fault.”

“You know,” Chenle turned to Jisung, “I don’t care about your feelings! I love Y/N and im not going to let you hurt her anymore.” 

Jisung’s expression morphed from surprise to defensiveness, his features hardening as he stood up to face Chenle. The room was silent, tension crackling in the air as the two boys locked eyes in a silent battle.

“Hey, calm down,” Mark interjected, attempting to diffuse the escalating fight. But Chenle was not going to back down again, his gaze unwavering as he continued to address Jisung.

“You think you can just come in here and act like everything’s fine after what happened?” Chenle’s voice rose with each word, his frustration and hurt pouring out. “I’m not going to stand by and watch you hurt Y/n again.”

Jisung’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. “Im not hurting Y/n, you are hurting her!” he shot back, his own anger bubbling to the surface.

Renjun stepped forward, speaking calmly but firmly. “Guys, let's all take a step back and calm down,” he suggested, his voice cutting through the charged atmosphere. “This isn't helping anyone.”

Chenle and Jisung both paused, their eyes locked in a silent battle. 

“We need to talk this out calmly,” Renjun continued, his gaze shifting between the two of them. “We're all friends here, and we can work through this together.”

“Shut up Renjun! I’m tired of everyone acting like nothing happened!” Chenle’s frustration boiled over. “Y/n deserves better than this.” 

Chenle stormed off again. Reminding you off what happened at the last movie night. 

Everyone’s eyes were on you now. “Did he say he loves me…” you whispered to yourself, still stuck on Chenle’s words.

You stood there, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. The room was filled with a tense silence as everyone processed what had just unfolded. Jisung's expression softened, a flicker of realization crossing his features as he glanced at you.

But before anyone could even say anything you got up from your seat and ran out the door in search for Chenle. 

But the door to the elevator was already shutting before you could say anything.

You sprinted towards the stairs, heart pounding in your chest. The thought of Chenle, hurt and upset, fueled your speed. As you reached the stairwell, you hesitated for a moment before taking the steps two at a time.

When you finally got to the ground floor, you scanned the area frantically, trying to catch a glimpse of Chenle. His words kept echoing in your mind. You couldn't let him walk away like this, not again.

But he wasnt in the lobby.

You pushed open the glass doors of the building, stepping out into the cool night air. The street was quiet, with only a few scattered passersby making their way along the sidewalk. You glanced left and right, unsure of which way Chenle might have gone.

Your heart raced as you spotted a figure sitting on a bench in the park across the street. You knew it was Chenle. Without a second thought, you hurried across the road towards him.

"Chenle!" you called out, your voice echoing in the stillness of the night. He turned to look at you, surprise flickering in his eyes before he quickly averted his gaze.

You reached his side, breathless from your sprint down the stairs. "Chenle," you whispered between deep breaths reaching out to touch his arm.

Before you could go on a rampage of apologies, Chenle couldn’t help but laughed. 

"I can't believe you ran all the way down here just to chase after me," Chenle said, a small smile playing on his lips. His eyes met yours, the tension that had filled the air was gone.

You couldn't help but let out a breathy laugh, relieved to see a glimpse of the Chenle you knew and cared for. "You’re worth it." 

Chenle's smile widened as he shifted on the bench, making room for you to sit beside him. You settled down, the cool night air wrapping around you both as you sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry for running off like that," Chenle began, his tone softer now. "I just... I couldn't stand seeing you upset, especially because of me."

“Can you stop blaming yourself!”

Chenle looked at you, his eyes softening. He reached out and gently took your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I just want you to be happy, Y/n," Chenle said sincerely, his gaze searching yours. "I don't ever want to be the cause of your pain."

Taking a deep breath, you started, "Chenle, you have never been the cause of my pain," you said, turning so your body was facing him. "You've always been there for me, always caring and understanding. I appreciate you more than words can express."

Chenle's eyes widened slightly, before a soft smile spread on his face. “So what now?”

Chenle's smile was always contagious, and you found yourself mirroring it as you gazed into his eyes.

"Now," you began, your voice steady as you spoke, "you kiss me."

Chenle's lips curved into a smile. “You’re such a romantic.” Chenle joked, causing you to roll your eyes as he leaned in closer. His lips met yours in a gentle kiss. It was soft and sweet. All of your worries melted away. As long has you have eachother, everything is going to be okay.

© 2024 fullsunstrawberry all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs and comments are appreciated a lot!

nct dream taglist: @lostinneocity @naqkja

general taglist: @haechansbbg @haolovre @talkingsaxy @chenlesfeetpic

[jintaka-hane]

Asked by: @artemis162534 (sorry! I had a problem with the original ask and had to make a screenshot)

Kiss your blorbo at the New Year’s Eve event

PAULIE

Summary: On New Year's Eve, your boss overplays the urgency of some ship project, leaving you stuck working late in the shipyard. It’s all a setup to give Paulie, the shy and hardworking colleague, a chance to spend time with you. Word count: 1200 Warning: x f!reader! fluff, shy Technically, it’s still January 15th in my timezone!! My self-imposed deadline!! I’m sorry it took me so long to finish this, but once I started working again, everything got a bit complicated. Thank you for reading and for all the positive feedback you’ve given me throughout this event!! Love you all!!

Tap, tap, tap.

Brow furrowed in concentration, you hammer the nail into place before picking another from the three tucked between your lips. You’re quite the sight. Kneeling on a wooden plank in an elegant evening gown, contrasted by the rough work gloves covering your hands. You’re barefoot too. The heels you put on thinking you’d be at the party with your coworkers, are useless here.

Tap, tap, tap.

You strike again with the hammer, running your thumb over the surface to make sure the nail is fully embedded. You’ve been working on this piece for so long that you’ve lost count of how many screwdrivers have passed through your hands. Brushing sawdust from your dress, you step back to check if the piece is perfectly aligned.

“It’s leaning too much,” you hear behind you the Vice President of the prestigious shipwright company, Galley-La.

Sighing, you wipe the sweat from your brow and turn just in time to catch the square Paulie tosses your way. A couple of seconds are enough for you to confirm that, indeed, the piece leaning. Mistakes like this would normally embarrass you, but after hours of nonstop work on this high-priority project, fatigue is catching up.

Paulie makes a gesture for you to come closer and examine the blueprints spread across the table. He’s dressed as elegantly as you are, in a suit jacket with a flower perched in the front pocket. “It’s a 90-degree angle, see?” he says, tracing his fingertips along the ship’s design.

Your head nearly brushes against his as you lean in to inspect the plans. Paulie steals a quick glance at you, blushing hard before snapping his eyes back to the blueprints. He’s trying his hardest to focus on the work. But as midnight approaches, it’s getting harder and harder to keep his thoughts in line.

"Come on, I'll help you fix it," he says, slipping on his goggles as he grabs a claw hammer and crouches down to pull out the nails.

Meanwhile, from the courtyard of Galley-La Headquarters, Iceburg raises his champagne glass and clinks it against Lulu’s and Tilestone’s. Watching the workers enjoying themselves, he muses to himself whether he might have exaggerated the urgency of your current project. Okay, fine, the deadline wasn’t that tight. Maybe you and Paulie could be here right now, celebrating with the rest of the company at the end-of-year party. But he had his reasons. He’d spent far too long watching Paulie pine after you with googly-eyed devotion, never daring to take a step forward. And people tend to kiss on New Year’s Eve, right? Maybe a quiet shipyard and a little nudge would do the trick... or maybe not. Iceburg sighs into his champagne. This was Paulie, after all.

"One, two, three, four..." Paulie mutters as he counts the cast-iron screws needed to get that perfect 90-degree angle. Only twelve are needed, but he’s already counted them four times, silently cursing as his mind loops over the words he wishes he could say to you tonight.

“Paulie, can you hold this here?” You make him jolt.

"Huh? Oh—yeah, sure," he tries to sound casual as he places his hands exactly where you asked. His fingers hover just a few centimeters from yours, but to him, the distance feels impossibly vast.

"Shit", your hands tremble. You’re too tired, and you can’t quite manage to fit the screwdriver into the slot.

“Let me,” Paulie takes the tool from your hands to relieve you and give you a break.

With a brief nod, you allow yourself to enjoy your much-needed pause. Your back leans against the wall as you watch Paulie work in silence. He’s so responsible and dedicated to his job... Even though he’s in an executive position, he’s always ready to roll up his sleeves and pitch in with everyone else when there’s a tight deadline.

Your eyes focus on his hands, which seem to caress the wood, treating the ships with as much care and respect as if they were his own. But your thoughts are interrupted as you catch the faint sound of shouts and the thrum of music from some party down at the port. You uncover your wrist, glance at your watch, and smile.

“Two minutes to midnight,” you say.

"Great," Paulie leans forward, flexing his arms as he applies more pressure, pretending the screw is giving him trouble. For a moment, he works in silence, his brow furrowed and his gaze fixed on the piece of wood, until he can't hold it in anymore. "Would you rather be with the others?" His question comes out suddenly.

“Uh, what?”

“I imagine this isn’t exactly the best New Year’s Eve for you,...” he explains, his focus still on the work. “Working nonstop… and with me…”

You giggle before grabbing another screw and handing it to him. “Paulie, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend New Year’s Eve.”

You smile hits him in the split second his eyes meet yours, and he chuckles before quickly averting his eyes. He’s never been able to hold your gaze when you smile at him like that.

“Okay, this is ready now,” he says, straightening up after giving the screwdriver a couple more turns.

From the port, distant shouts, cheers, and the sharp crack of fireworks drift toward you in the night air. You glance at your watch once more, and a smile spreads across your face.

“Happy New Year, Paulie!” you grin at him, reaching out to hug him. But he freezes, the screwdriver still hovering in mid-air.

“Happy New—shit!” he blurts out, covering his face with his hands as a wild blush spreads across his cheeks. You’re used to seeing him blush, but this? This is something else.

“Paulie!! Are you okay?” you step closer to him.

“Uh… yeah, I…” you hear him mumble through his hands. His face is radiating so much heat that his goggles fog up.

“Paulie?”

"Y-Yeah, I just..." he mumbles, still hiding behind his hands, and if it’s possible, you can tell he’s turning even redder. "I-I wanted to... damn, I wanted to kiss you… b-but..." The words get stuck in his throat, and he clenches his jaw, shutting up to stop making a fool of himself in front of you.

You sigh, unable to hold back a smile as you step closer and gently take his hands away from his face.

"Paulie..." you whisper, shaking your head. His eyes are squeezed shut behind his protective glasses, but when you gently lift them off and rest them on his forehead, he slowly opens his eyes, filled with embarrassment.

Leaning in just a little, you tilt your head, and your lips brush against his, feeling them warm, shaky, and hesitant. Your mouth guides his through his nervous clumsiness in slow but steady movements, drawing from him a kiss as soft as it is tender. Paulie's arms fall uselessly to his sides, and with a clank, the screwdriver slips from his hands and hits the floor. The sound makes you jump, and much to Paulie’s dismay, you pull away and glance down.

"Uhhh, Paulie," you say, your eyes widening at his work on the floor.

"Yeah?" he whispers, unable to tear his eyes away from you.

"This still isn’t a 90-degree angle!"

................................................................

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece @i-am-vita @eustasscapitankid @nocturnalrorobin @daydreamer-in-training <3

[watarfallar]

Life Series Incorrect Quotes

Martyn: As top in this relationship, I think we should- Ren: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me.

Impulse: Are you sure Skizz's even gay? They barely even looked at me.

Skizz: How do you know how to kiss? Like who teaches you? Impulse: Well it’s actually a class, but unfortunately it’s full right now. Impulse: Would you like me to tutor you? Tango: That was smooth.

Gem, in Impulse’s bed: Morning… how’d ya sleep last night? Impulse, knocking Gem off: WHAT THE HELL?! Gem: Ow— Impulse: What were you doing in my bed? You were supposed to sleep on the air mattress on the floor! Gem: I had a nightmare. Impulse: You had a nightmare? What are you, five years old? Gem: Listen, I needed to feel comfortable and I was getting this perverse power dynamic vibe from me sleeping on the floor and you sleeping up there- Impulse, in a royal accent: Why yes, how high and mighty I am up on my twin XL! Gem: That is not what I meant— Impulse: Silence in the presence of your king, who sleeps a lofty twelve and a half inches above the ground! Gem: Listen, I’m not ashamed. I slept comfortably when I got up on your bed and I’m sure you did too. Impulse: Yeah, okay- Gem: You know what? I wanna know. How’d you sleep last night? Impulse: …That was the best I’ve slept in a while. Gem, gasping: The king slept comfortably with a peasant in his bed! Impulse: I did not consent to this- Gem, dramatically: But my liege, our love is forbidden! Impulse, on the phone: Hi, is this the front desk? Yeah, there’s a bed bug in my room and she’s six-foot-one, he’s got red hair. Gem: Ask them if they have one of those “Do Not Disturb” signs. I’ll put it on the door next time we… do it. Impulse: Okay, I'ma go shower and wash all of the you off of me. Gem: Oh, maybe together we could— Impulse: NO. Gem: Just to save water— Impulse: No! You don’t even pay for the water! Gem: …Good point.

Bdubs: What do you call quantums of electromagnetic radiation that don’t get along? Ren: What did you just say- Bdubs: Foetons! *Laughs* Ren: Wh-what?

Grian, at an awards show: Well, first of all, I’d like to thank Scar, the love of my life, for telling me Mumbo was going to win so don’t bother to prepare a speech.

Cleo: Bdubs, can you help me? All of my clothes keep disappearing for some reason. Bdubs, wearing a hoodie that's 5 times bigger than their size: Spooky.

BigB: What situation is not instantly improved by the addition of fishnets, I ask you. Scott: Being a fish. BigB: Well, shit.

Grian: I am an expert at identifying birds. Bdubs: Okay, what about those ones flying over there? Grian: Yeah, they're all birds.

Ren: I’m gonna die alone. Pearl: Ren, you’re not gonna die alone. Ren: Bdubs, was my safety net, okay? They got married and now I have to get a snake. Scar: Uh-huh. Why is that? Ren: If I’m gonna be an old lonely person, I’m gonna need a thing, you know? A hook. Like that guy in the subway who eats his own face. Ren: So I figured I’ll be “Crazy Man With A Snake”, you know? Crazy snake man. Ren: Then I’ll get more snakes, call them my babies. Kids won’t walk past my place, they will run! RUN AWAY FROM CRAZY SNAKE MAN!

Cleo, holding out a cookie for Lizzie: Look! This ones a heart, that’s how I feel about you! Lizzie: *Ugly crying* Cleo, holding out another cookie for Pearl: This ones like Michigan, that’s how I feel about you! Pearl, throwing their hands in the air: What does that mean?!

Grian: Did you wash the dishes? Mumbo: I thought you wanted to do that... Grian: *chuckles* You were WRONG.

Bdubs: Ren, I beg of you. Please, PLEASE go to the doctor. Ren: Hey, I'm sorry. Is this OUR stab wound?

BigB: Respect my trans homies or I’m gonna identify as a fucking problem.

Impulse: Everybody shut up, I'm thinking. Tango, patting them on the back: Well, don’t think too hard. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.

Joel: What's with the new hat? Scott: Oh, this? It's nothing. Scar: It's the loudest nothing I ever saw. Cleo: Scott, you just can't mosey in here with a brand-new hat and act like you're not wearing a brand-new hat. Scott: Look, I'm trying something new, okay? Just take it easy. Etho: He's right, guys. Come on, let's not go down this path. It's ugly... Kinda like that hat– Scott: I got this from a nice store! Joel: What store? The one before you exit the Al Capone Museum? BigB, entering the room: What's up, Scott? Did you just finish Bling Ring-ing Bruno Mars' closet? Scott: I'm being brave, okay? You guys are sheep. You may want to take a long, hard look in the mirror. BigB: Better us than you. You look like a park ranger from a cartoon. Scott: Joel, do you think the hat looks bad? Joel: Oh, uh, me? Um, I... I wouldn't say it was bad. Like, I think it's just different, like something you would wear in Indiana... Jones and the Temple of Bad Hats.

BigB: Well Grian, I have to say, I'm really disappointed. Grian: Well, you didn't HAVE to say it. You could've just thought it.

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: D.P.

D.P. (which stands for Deserter Pursuit, not something else) is a two-season, twelve-episode Korean series about a young man doing his mandatory military service who finds himself -- alongside a slightly unhinged partner -- tasked with tracking down other young men who have skipped out on said mandatory military service.

This show gets a giant trigger warning for all kinds of harassment, both shown and implied. It is a bloody, bare-knuckled tale about violence, bullying, and the systems that not only protect but enable the violent bullies. It is a show about boys who beat the shit out of one another, but in ways that make you more sad than horny -- and in ways that make them more sad than horny. And yet, fujoshi hope springs eternal, as those main boys absolutely, 100% need to kiss.

I was just looking for a whatever show to put in my face, and I was surprised by how much D.P. impressed me. If you think you might be up for it, I've got five reasons to roll out for this one.

1. A shockingly critical take on toxic Korean masculinity and military culture!

...What, you thought I was going to start with the gay stuff? Just for that, I'm going to make you wait for that until selling point #5.

Anyway, I think the most notable part of this show is how absolutely brutal and unflinching its portrayal of the Korean military is. I had been given the impression that, sure, it had some points of critique. I did not expect it to be an indictment of the entire damn system. From the conscripts to the commanders to the civilians, damn near everyone either contributes to the cycle of abuse or passively allows a rotten institution to worsen at every turn.

D.P. starts out like it's going to be a deserter-of-the-week military police procedural, where a couple good soldiers go track down some naughty lads who have shirked their rightful duties! But no, the show presents you almost immediately with the idea that going AWOL isn't just a thing for bad lazy boys who'd rather spend their weekends partying. Instead, running away is often the only escape from brutal abuse suffered at the hands of their fellow soldiers. Our main pair's job is to find these deserters and bring them back -- but boy, do they very quickly start to feel not good about it.

Especially once you hit the second season, the villainy of the villains can reach almost comical levels -- like, the bad guys are so bad that they'd be twirling their moustaches if they were allowed to grow any. But comical doesn't mean unbelievable. I mean, anyone with half an inch of awareness right now knows that the Venn diagram of the evilest people in the world and the most absurd people in the world is pretty much just a circle.

Questioning the military is always a dicey prospect in fiction, because of how many people have such delicate feelings about ideas of patriotism and service. I think it helps that the major incident at the crux of the show is based on a real-life tragedy from 2014 (which is when the show is set), so you can't clutch your pearls and say that would never happen in our army! because, uh, it already did. Authoritarian pressure cookers with unquestionable hierarchies lead to horrific abuse! We've got the recent history to prove it!

And sure, yeah, I wish the show had been a little more explicit in its gender critique, but I always wish that. D.P. ain't special.

2. A solid supporting cast

I think this show does a good job overall of creating side characters that are only slightly larger than life. They're big enough to move the story along with occasional good comedic moments, so it's not just a complete litany of despair, but not so exaggerated they need you to suspend too much disbelief that they might exist in real life.

This network of characters is important, because it recognizes that our main characters are not in positions of power and cannot make substantive changes in the world. Especially in the second season, the plot widens out enough that they need allies who are empowered to pull of things that army grunts are not. I very much like that the show does not (overly) artificially insert its main characters into places they don't belong; rather, it keeps them where they (mostly) make sense to be, allowing them to serve as supports while more structurally appropriate people step up to the plate.

Now, I will admit that I had more than a little trouble telling some side characters apart. I mean, come on -- half the cast is a bunch of TV-handsome athletic Korean men around the same age, with the same haircut, wearing the same uniform. Combine that with my vague face-blindness, and I was struggling. Maybe keep a cast list open or something, just to help you kep track.

3. On Earth My Nina

Did you watch EVILIVE? (You should!) Did you adore that handsome cat-eyed boy who was Seo Doyeong's right-hand goon? Do you want to see him play a beautiful and tragic transfemme who is a morally complicated but ultimately incredibly sympathetic character?

Hell yeah you do.

Nina is a oneshot character -- season 2, episode 3 is all you get. Yet you could probably write an entire dissertation about how D.P. is a Manly Show For Manly Men that takes this episode to condemn homophobia and transphobia as unqualified evils, no nuance, no discussion. And you might think I'd be the one to do it, but no! I'm gonna talk about punchin' stuff.

4. Some kick-ass fight choreography!

If you're sick of fight scenes that are just a million quick cuts of shaky hand-held footage meant to cover how the actors couldn't punch their way out of a paper bag, I've got some great news for you!

As I said up top, this is a violent show. There's lots of people getting punched, kicked, shot, stabbed, burned, blown up, bludgeoned, strangled, hit by cars, tossed out windows, and generally roughed up pretty badly. I wouldn't call it gory or gross, necessarily, but it doesn't hold back on the damage that gets done. It understands just how many times you have to punch a trained soldier before that trained soldier finally goes down. The folk with the fake blood and bruise makeup definitely earned their paychecks.

It doesn't try to pretty up the violence either, so when I say I like the fight choreography, I don't mean that things get artsy or poetic. What this show has going for it is some very smart work that doesn't rely on jiggling the camera to build tension. A couple of the fights are one person against a group, and they're timed well enough that none of the extras look like they're just hovering in the background, checking their watch and waiting their turn.

I like how scrappy the brawls can get, too. Han Hoyeol (more on him in a moment) will just fling himself bodily at people, knocking them down in ways that aren't graceful, but get the job done. These aren't graceful battles between honorable masters. They're mostly one guy who's trying to get away versus another guy who's trying to subdue him. Those can be very interesting stakes.

Most of the actors are clearly well-trained in stage combat. Every now and then, though, you get someone who's clearly a martial artist, and they just let him at it. The one chest kick that Lego Grandpa gets off? Damn.

But a lot of times, the fights are just sad.

The main boys realize very quickly that their job is returning abuse victims to their abusers. Sometimes they can feel good about bringing in some dangerous shithead or chasing a thug! Mostly, though, they're approaching their quarries with the attitude of, you should really come with us, because the next guys coming for you won't be nearly as gentle. You as the viewer wind up rooting against our guys as often as not, because you want to see the deserters get away. That's a level of moral complication I was not expecting when I started out!

I hope you are ready for some man-tears, because this show is at least 30% man-tears by volume. Crying while punching someone you care about? It doesn't get manlier than that.

5. The aforementioned gay stuff

Okay, I made you wait for it, so here we go.

This is love.

The tall, quiet, buff one is An Junho, the main character of the show. The lanky, scrappy, crazy one is Han Hoyeol, his eventual partner.

It goes a little bit like this: Junho is a completely emotionally unavailable young man from a terribly abusive family situation. He gets paired up with Hoyeol, who actively and openly cares about Junho's well-being. Junho reacts to this like someone who has never been cared for in his whole life. Hoyeol reacts to that like someone who has never had someone actually let him care for them.

They then enter into a buddy-cop dynamic that's great because they genuinely like one another. They get close pretty quick because they go through some incredibly traumatic things together. Junho starts to learn how to care, and Hoyeol starts to learn to stop hiding his own trauma behind his jokester personality. And they do this just in time to get traumatized even more! That's kind of how the show goes.

I want to talk for a second about Han Hoyeol.

I must at this moment confess that I don't speak Korean gay-coding enough to know if that's what's happening with him. We are introduced to him by a loving and surprisingly long shot of his ass in a pair of panties with his name written on the butt. His mannerisms are exaggerated and his whole personality is extra. He's comfortable around drag queens. Homophobic insults roll off his back. And that's all without even getting into what he says in front of Junho's mom and little sister. What I'm saying is: In a show full of Manly Man-Type Men, honestly, he reads kind of like a fag.

Which means one of two things: either he's actually meant to come across as a (nominally) closeted gay man, or he's supposed to be a straight man so comfortable in his straightness that he doesn't care if he seems like a fruit. Both make me happy to consider.

Hoyeol is by far my favorite character in the show. He's great because he's definitely kind of a wacky loose cannon, but believably so. He's defiant and gleefully irritating, but he reins it in juuuuust enough that you can imagine he'd be tolerable even by Korean military standards. So it's not one of those situations where you're wondering why the hell the straitlaced establishment puts up with this completely insubordinate fictional guy. Hoyeol will do what he's supposed to; he just reserves the right to be annoying as heck while he does it.

This is not a drama like Beyond Evil or EVILIVE, where the main character of the show is the relationship between the two leads. This is An Junho's tale, where Han Hoyeol is merely a supporting character. But he is an extremely important supporting character, and their interactions form the core of Junho's protagonist arc. They are the only people who can see one another for what they truly are: vulnerable and traumatized and badly in need of love. Whether you read that love as romantic or not, it is love.

They totally should kiss, though. Not during the time period covered in the show, mind you; those boys have way too much damage to work through first. They're gonna need a slow post-canon burn. Somebody get on that for me. There's a mere 78 works on AO3 for this show. We can do better. Support our troops.

...Hold on a damn minute, is this another one of those things that doesn't have an actual ending?

I saw a lot of people saying that before I started watching, so that was what I was prepared for, and you know what? They're wrong!

Season 2 aired in July 2023, and as far as I can tell, there has to been no noise made about a season 3. More to that, I don't think there's going to be one. While I think the series could support one, sure, I absolutely, 100% think it doesn't need one.

I understand where the "season 3 when?" people are coming from. Not all the conflicts of the show get all wrapped up with a neat bow, and not everybody ends clearly on the path to a stable happily ever after. Honestly, though, that's better, because it's at least an acknowledgment that the issues at play here are not subject to a quick solution. Cycles of abuse don't stop quickly or easily. There is still more work to be done to get the toxicity out of the masculinity at the heart of Korean military culture.

And that's if you can get the toxicity out at all. It may be too much of a feature, not a bug. The show isn't quite willing to say it outright, but you really have to consider if this kind of corruption and abuse is just too endemic to the system as it is structured now, where everyone buys into the lie that the military is such a noble and unqualified good that it is above question. D.P. portrays a badly broken institution that permanently damages not only the people forced by law to endure it, but the country at large. After all, as long as you're sending every young man in your culture through an intense multi-year experience that demands he violently hate femmes, fags, fatties, freaks, and feelings, you are going to see those attitudes continue to ripple out through Korean society for a long, long time.

Ready to watch?

It's a Netflix series, so off to Netflix you go! Heck, if you're already there, you've probably seen it recommended for you already -- I know that's how I found it. Click that little banner and start watching!

Real talk: I don't think this show could have gotten made today in the U.S., given the stranglehold the military-industrial complex has over big-studio productions, to say nothing of U.S. public opinion. Supporting our troops also means never questioning what kind of godawful meat grinder we're throwing them into, I guess.

And you definitely couldn't have made here, because deserters would've just gotten shot in the first ten minutes! Ha ha anyway.

Now there's a couple of good ol' D.P. boys. Mm-hmm.

[burgojo]

another love'a little dagger drabble??🌝

oc and taehyung are doing the nasty and then jimin calls oc, tae ist jealous and picks up the phone for oc and let's jimin hear what they're doing 🌝

warnings: riding/reverse cowgirl, they're so mean to each other for no reason lol, abrupt ending oops, also ignore any continuity errors please and thank

"fuck, you're pretty."

the wet slap of skin on skin only quickens in response. it's obscene, filthy, the way he tosses his head back as he grips your knees, bouncing his tight little ass on your cock with all the crass sexuality of an early megan fox movie. sweat drips down his temple, dampening the ends of his fading red hair. it's a pinkish-orange, uneven with sun exposure and a messy bleach and dye job, but somehow it looks intentional – something like a summer beach sunset. even the striking black roots don't look ugly.

"pretty," taehyung repeats with a hiss. "pretty pretty pretty. i'm never anything else to you, am i? not hot, not sexy, just this fucking pretty. even when your dick's in me, that's all i get?"

you scoff. you'd roll your eyes, but doing so means you'd have to tear your gaze off of his ass rippling off your thighs. your palm cracks against his ass and he jerks, his cry like a snap of a whip. you massage the reddening skin absently. "you know you're both of those things. me saying them doesn't matter. shit—" your head falls back to the couch backrest as he clamps down around you, tight as as vice. "you're shaking. like getting spanked, do you, naughty thing?"

"sh-shut up," he growls, his breathy grunts and moans like melted chocolate, heavy over your senses. his lashes flutter as he drops his hips, slowing to lazily grind into you so he can remember how to breathe and to fully appreciate how fucking deep your cock reaches. "oh, god..."

to your credit, you oblige, though he knows the smirk on your face isn't going anywhere. your hands print bruises in their shape on his hips and the pain of your nails digging into his skin makes his cock throb with the shudder zinging up his spine.

he's close. so fucking close.

your phone rings.

taehyung's eyes snap open. that's a different ringtone to your default.

"ignore it," you groan, the impatience in your voice turning to annoyance as taehyung both dismisses you and leans over to pick it up from the side table. "taehyung, damn it—"

"hey, babe," jimin croons from the other side. "i'm lonely. i miss you."

you can't get a single word out before taehyung's brow knits and he grunts, "he doesn't miss you, though."

only silence filters through the phone, and taehyung's heart leaps with the joy of a victory. finally. he's lost enough to the bitch who sidelined him in the first place.

"taehyung, fuck, hang up." your hands push and pull loosely at his still hips, and when he doesn't budge, you try bucking up into him. he clenches around you and glances over his shoulder in warning, settling his entire weight on your lap to pin you down. you hiss as his heat swallows you to the hilt. "taehyung!"

taehyung turns his attention back to the phone pressed against his ear. he won't give you the satisfaction of hearing jimin's voice. "give up. you're temporary, meat to chew up and spit out. there's a reason he never hangs out with you outside of a quick fuck, you know – you've got nothing to show except your money and your ass. you're not good enough for him."

"and you are?" jimin retorts, his voice cold and sharp even as taehyung slams his hips down on your cock and moans directly into the receiver. "at least i could pay for our dates with my own money, give him everything he could ever want. you? you'd give him a single twelve-dollar rose and a blowjob, hoping he won't look too closely at how you can't even afford the touch-ups for your hair. you're pretty but held upright by bluffs and hot air."

high on the heat of your body, taehyung only lets out a breathy laugh, punctuated by a moan as your cock thrusts into him. "you think i'm bluffing? who's the one cold and lonely, and who's got him for company? oh, fuck yes—!"

"you might have him now, but i have him when it matters. people know he likes me because i can show him off in public. everyone thinks he hates you with how much he complains about you and your shitty habits," he sneers on the other side. "sure, he might only like me for my ass, but how is it any different with you? he's not dating either of us, and i'm the one he puts on his arm. sorry, honey, but i don't think you're as much of a winner as you think you are."

he hangs up immediately, and taehyung lowers the phone. he glares at the pixels spelling out his name. he tosses it aside with a huff, leaning back and bracing against your body to ride you faster, harder. your groans are music to his ears.

"shit, taehyung, slow down – gonna snap my fuckin' cock in half like that," you grunt, the squelch of lube and cum stirring arousal deep in your gut.

"gonna make you lose your mind," he purrs, "make you forget all about that other bitch. there's gonna be a time, y'know, when you have to choose. i'm showing you why you'd do well to pick me."

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Burnin' On - Firefighter!Chris x Reader (2 am)

A/N: Okay it was no secret that I absolutely love these two and I couldn't stop writing them! So here's the extensions series! There's no real over-arching plot, just interconnected one-shots as and when I think of them! This will contain spoilers to the original series so go check that out of you haven't already

Summary: After a very long day you return home surprised to find Chris had waited for you

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Fluff!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​​

Meet the Characters!

Burnin' Up Masterlist / Series Masterlist / Masterlist

2 am

Your eyelids felt heavy as you finally pulled up outside the house. You let out a long sigh as you dragged your hands down your face before glancing at the time. 

It was well past 2 am.

Glancing back up at the house you could see no lights were on. You had texted Chris the code to tell him it was going to be a late one so he no doubt had gone to bed hours ago. There was nothing you wanted more than to climb into bed and snuggle up next to him, if Dodger had left you any space that is. 

Even though you were exhausted you remained sat in your car for another couple of minutes just gathering the energy to move. It had been an exhausting day, not just physically but emotionally too.

Eventually, you did manage to bring yourself to climb out of the car and head inside. You made sure you were as quiet as possible as you closed the door, took off your shoes and jacket. You didn’t want to accidentally wake Chris. 

Even though you didn’t have much of an appetite you knew you needed to have something to eat. The last proper meal you had was lunch and that was over twelve hours ago. You also knew you’d just wake up hungry again in a couple hours if you didn’t and you really wanted to sleep for hours after today.

Walking into the living room you flicked on the light only to be startled by Chris startling awake from his spot on the couch. You clutched your chest as you tried to get your breathing back under control.

“Chris what the hell? You scared the shit out of me!” You complained as your heart rate finally returned to normal.

“Sorry,” he said rubbing the sleep from his eyes “I didn’t mean to scare you, or fall asleep, I was trying to stay awake until you got home” he explained.

“Why? I texted to say I’d be home late so you didn’t need to stay up” you told him, pulling out your phone to double-check you’d actually sent the code.

“I know” Chris said pushing himself up from the couch and walking over to you “I also knew tonight was gonna be a hard night and I didn’t like the idea of you getting home and being alone” he explained placing his hands on your arms.

You instantly softened hearing his reason, stepping into his embrace, burying your head in his chest as you let out a shaky breath. Chris instantly wrapped his arm around you pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked softly, rubbing your soothingly.

“Not yet, I think I’m still processing it all, I just wanna sleep but I should eat first” you sighed pulling away enough to look up at him.

“Okay, I saved you a plate so I’ll go warm it up, make yourself comfortable” Chris smiled softly, nodding to the couch. 

“Not too comfortable otherwise I’ll be asleep before you even get into the kitchen” you pointed out. 

Chris lets out a small snort of laughter “Okay make yourself uncomfortable” he chuckled.

You give him a tired smile as you sit down on the couch, sitting on the edge as you knew that if you sat too far back sleep would be too inviting. Thankfully it wasn’t long until Chris returned with a plateful of food for you, and a smaller plate for himself. 

The two of you sat in comfortable silence as you ate. Once you were finished you set your plate down on the coffee table and let out a long sigh.

“We found the body,” you told Chris.

You heard him let out a long sigh as he put his hand on the small of your back. He didn’t say anything though, he knew to just give you time to talk it all through.

“We still have to confirm it's her because there was a lot of decay but she was in the exact spot he said she was” You continued rubbing your hand over your forehead “I just… I feel so sorry for the families…. Both of them… one lost their daughter and the other has just found out their son isn’t who they thought he was” 

Chris let out another sigh as he shifted closer to you, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer into his side. He knew exactly where your mind was going, it hadn’t been that long since you found out your own father wasn’t who you thought he was.

You let out a shuddering sigh as you wiped away the stray tears that fell “Sorry” you muttered.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Chris said shaking his head “You have nothing to apologise for”

“I shouldn’t be thinking of him though” you pointed out looking up at him.

“It's okay, it’s natural and you always will it’ll just be easier to move on” Chris reassured you “And I know it sucks and it hurts but it means you understand what they’re going through and feeling and you’ll be able to provide them the correct support”

You sighed nodding your head “Yeah you’re right, thank you” you say looking up at him.

Chris gave you a soft smile “It’s nothing, now let's get you up to bed, you deserve it” he said as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t think I have the energy to stand” you admitted making Chris chuckle.

“Don’t you worry about that” he said with a lopsided smile before he stood up, hooked his arms around you and lifted you into his arms.

You let out a squeak of surprise before quickly snuggling into his arms. You smiled up at him forever grateful that you had him in your life to look after you after tough shifts, providing you a safe space that you never had before. He hadn’t even made it all the way upstairs before you fell asleep in his arms.

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[tgmsunmontue]

Online & Anonymous 10/16

Hangster. Explicit. Years before they meet in person Bradley and Jake strike up a friends-with-benefits relationship online. And then something more like an actual relationship.

Odd year = Bradley's POV and Even year = Jake's POV

>>Bradley chatting (bold and italics)

>>Jake chatting (italics)

2005/2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014

2015 – Bradley

                He doesn’t have the location feature in Grindr turned on by default. He can’t and won’t pick up while he’s deployed, not considering the fact that they have all sort of security hoops and communication blackouts, the location hasn’t ever been important. Except when he’s on leave and he’s looking at it now and Jas is in the same state as him. Not close by any means, but holy shit he’ll travel if he has to. Jas is meant to be deployed, however Texas is a huge state, and Jas has no reason to lie about being deployed. Unless their luck has changed, and Jas is somehow on leave and they’re in the same state. There’s a chance that Jas is on base, and if that’s the case it rules out the Marines and Coast Guard, but not Army, Navy or Air Force.

                He wonders if it’s even possible for them to meet. He would totally fly a couple of hours to finally meet Jas.

>>Not to creep on you, but I can see you’re in Texas.

>>You here long?

>>You have got to be fucking kidding me.

>>What?

>>I’m here for two days. Just here to attend my grandma’s funeral.

>>And avoid my family as much as possible.

>>Okay. Not exactly ideal meeting conditions.

>>Fuck.

>>I’m almost tempted to just ditch the funeral.

>>But I can’t.

>>Of course not.

>>God I hate this entire state.

>>Special leave to attend.

>>Turn around is tight.

>>I’m sorry for your loss.

                Bradley isn’t sure what else to say, because he hadn’t even realized that Jas spoke to any of his family members, had left them all behind when he joined up whatever service it is he’s in. 

>>Thanks. She was the last decent family member I had.

>>Not that I was the best grandson.

>>Another thing to feel shitty and guilty about I guess.

>>But I don’t think I’ll be coming back here unless it’s for work.

…            …            …

                He studies his calendar and the dates Jas has sent through of when he’s on leave. There’s not more than twenty-four hours of overlap with his own leave and he gets that people come and go and in a twelve-month period it’s fine, however this has been going on for several years now. The world feels like it’s going crazy and he doesn’t know if it actually is, or if he’s just paying more attention now, as he gets older and aware how world events will impact where he might be sent next. Where Jas might be sent next.

                Massacres.

                Shootings.

                Coups.

                Wars.

                Foreign airstrikes.

                And that’s just the first two months of the year. God, no wonder they can’t seem to catch a break. He scrolls back up to the pictures Jas had sent through last night and studies the tan lines, wonders where he might be to develop them. It’s not a comms blackout, but it’s close. They’re time zones apart now and it makes him regret not appreciating all the times when they were only hours apart.

                “Is that your guy?”

                “Jesus Christ! Natasha!” Bradley presses his phone to his chest and squirms away from where she’s trying to sit on his thighs in an attempt to pin him.

                “I mean, I’d be distracted too if someone sent me pictures like that. Maybe worth the money you paid for that ridiculous phone,” she says, poking him in the thigh.

                “He’s not my guy. Just… okay. Yeah. I guess it is my guy. He’s also a friend. He doesn’t need you drooling over him.”

                “A friend you have pretty regular sex with… And I’m sure you drool over him enough for the both of us.”

                “Yeah. But we’ve never met and it feels like we’re never going to. And we don’t even know each other’s names. It’s not a romance for the ages.”

                “And yet you admitted it’s one of your most important relationships. And not just because of the sex. That does sound pretty romantic to me.”

                “This is why people think we’re sleeping together, all you talk about is sex.”

                “I just said it was romantic! But I talk about sex because it winds you up.”

                Bradley groans.

                “Is it phone sex, when your still just sending messages? Isn’t phone sex when you’re actually on the phone with each other? Have you tried that? Does he have an accent?”

                “Why are you so interested?” Bradley replies, because he’s wondering now, and he hadn’t really thought about it before and he’s annoyed at himself. Wonders if they could talk on the phone, hear each other’s voices. Wonders if Jas has an accent, because he is Texan.

                “Because I’m bored.”

                “What do I have to do to make you leave me alone?”

                “There’s nothing you can do. You need to entertain me. Can I talk to your friend?”

                “No!”

                “I could find him and talk to him. You’ve given me enough details to find him I think…”

                “Why would you want to do that?”

                “The entertainment value alone would make it worth it.”

                He rolls his eyes but pulls a deck of cards from his pocket, because while he doesn’t think she would go through with it he also wouldn’t be entirely surprised if she did.

…            …            …

                His next deployment once again finds him on a carrier with Jake Seresin. Carriers are huge, there are thousands of people on board and yet Seresin seems to be there every time he turns around. Fortunately Seresin’s squadron are meant to leave in two months so at least that’s only one-third of his deployment he has to suffer through, and another squadron is cycling through in one-month, so between them he can at least try and avoid him. It works better in theory than in practice. Their downtime in the rec room nearly always seems to coincide and he’s not really listening to what the others are talking about until he hears Seresin mention going home to Texas.

                “You’re Texan?” Bradley asks, eyes shooting up to meet his and Seresin raises an eyebrow.

                “Born and bred. How did you miss that fact Rooster? It’s not like you haven’t heard my gorgeous dulcet tones.”

                “I guess I just never thought of it before, about where you’re from.”

                He doesn’t mean it as an insult, he just really hadn’t thought about it, because he was in Corpus Christi where everyone seemed to sound Texan. And Seresin sometimes doesn’t sound as Texan as he does right now. He’s pretty sure that’s the case anyway.

                “Proud Texan through and through, go back every chance I get.”

                “Of course you do.”

…            …            …           

                Bambi arrives like a breath of fresh air with five others, and he grabs her and swings her around and then brings her in for a tight hug.

                “God it’s good to see you.”

                “Good to see you too BB!”

                “Congrats on the promotion.”

                “Yeah, now you can stop being an asshole about it.”

                “Only with you. And Natasha.”

                “Yeah yeah. It really is good to see you. Come on, think we can get a party started up in here and do some dancing?”

                “I’m certain you can achieve anything you want.”

                “And don’t you forget it! You can play the piano for me later!”

                “As you wish…” Bradley says, and she cackles madly and he grins, glad that she’s here.

…            …            …

                Things get a lot less fun for a while, they’re in the air dropping bombs, patrolling airspace and this is what he’s trained for, years of training paying off, and it’s necessary, and he loves flying, and when it comes down to an enemy plane or Seresin being shot down he’s glad that Seresin made the shot. As much as he might find him arrogant and annoying he doesn’t want him dead. He does wish the guy would learn a little humility though, and he definitely snaps when he hears him re-telling the kill.

                “Judge, jury and executioner… You’re just a modern-day hangman now aren’t you?”

                The nickname of Hangman sticks to him, and he can tell it grates him a little, but then he starts leaning into it and somehow becomes even more arrogant and Bradley didn’t think it was possible but he’s been wrong before. Two weeks later Seresin and the rest of his squadron leave and he lets out a mental sigh of relief.

                Four months to go.

…            …            …

>>You ever kill anyone?

>>No.

>>You okay?

>>Probably not. Good enough to fake it.

>>You shouldn’t have to fake it.

>>I’m assuming this isn’t a hypothetical?

>>No. Not hypothetical.

>>I’ve probably been responsible for people dying before.

>>Just never seen faces before.

>>I’m having nightmares.

>>Shit. I’m sorry. Wish I could give you a hug.

>>Thanks. I’ve got J helping me out.

>>They aren’t going to keep me down.

>>I’ll be fine.

>>Jas. Take some time. Talk to someone.

>>And say what?

>>I throw up every time I think about it too much?

>>It’s okay to feel upset about it.

>>Yeah? Then why is everyone congratulating me like what I did was a good thing?

>>War on terror… fucking hell.

>>You’re on leave right now right?

>>Go and get laid?

>>If I could be guaranteed a good lay, I would take that advice.

>>You know what I feel like?

>>What?

>>Just… pinned down and fucked until I can’t think about anything except how I’m feeling physically. Nothing in my head.

>>I mentioned once about tying you up… would you let me?

>>Yeah. Of course.

>>No. Not of course. We can talk about anything and everything, but actually doing it is another matter.

>>You know what I want the most?

>>What?

>>Giving you what you need.

>>If that’s tying you to a bed that’s all well and good, but I can pin you with my body, hold you down while I just rub against you. Get you hard and desperate for it, just rubbing up against each other like horny teenagers.

>>Would be an interesting experiment to try out.

>>Yeah, especially if I was already stretched and lubed up, that potential for more just there on the edge for both of us…

>>But you’d have to figure out how to keep me pinned and get you dick in me.

>>God you’ve gotten so good at this.

>>All the practice with you baby.

…            …            …

                He’s back in a squadron with Natasha and for the first time also Hangman, and it’s a learning curve and a half because he remember Seresin and how he was at Top Gun a few years ago. He seems to have embraced the title of the only naval aviator in active duty to have an air to air kill, and all it does is make him wonder what has happened to Maverick, because surely he’s still active. The idea that he might have died and he wouldn’t know about it scares him, so he sends a carefully worded email to Ice and asks about them both. The response he gets back isn’t overly open or encouraging, but it is still a response and Bradley takes it as the small stepping stone it is. He’s still angry, but not angry enough to not want to know that Mav is alive and well. Ice too. It’s been over fifteen years and what he really wants now is answers. So he sends another email back, shares a funny story about something that happened and hopes for the best.

…            …            …

                “Every turn he assumes I think the worst of him.”

                “Don’t you?”

                “No! He’s an asshole, but I think he maybe uses that to cover up stuff.”

                “Hmm. Deep.”

                “Shut up,” Bradley mutters.

                “Maybe the two of you have more in common than you think.”

                Bradley looks at her sharply.

                “What do you mean by that?”

                “I can’t say. Just… keep an open mind I guess?”

                “Oh my god Nat. I don’t need an open mind,” Bradley says with an eye roll, putting sarcastic quotation marks in the air when he says open mind. “He made a pass at me.”

                “Oh, so you know he’s gay.”

                “And so do you…” Bradley observes.

                “Yeah well, best friend privilege I guess? I haven’t said anything about you though. Other than you being in a long-distance relationship.”

                “Oh, great, thanks for that.”

                “What?”

                “If I go and hook up people are going to think I’m cheating.”

                “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t think about that. Wait, how long have you known Seresin’s gay?”

                “Uh. Few years. When I was at Top Gun for the year.”

                “When you spent a large chunk of time bitching to me about how annoying he was?”

                “He asked me out for a drink after that. After most of that…”

                “Did he?! Really?” Natasha sits up and leans forward, eyes wide and excited.

                “I turned him down obviously.”

                “Why obviously?”

                “I was sort of an instructor at the time. Didn’t want a reputation of sleeping with people anymore than I want one as a cheater,” he says, poking his toes into her thigh in annoyance, although all she does back is pinch the delicate skin of his ankle and he yelps in pain.

                “So… you haven’t slept with him.”

                “Nope.”

                “Thinking about it now though right?”

                He groans and she laughs. It’s annoying because they both know she’s right.

…            …            …

                It wasn’t him. That’s the only thing he can think of when he hears the news. Who ever it was got the target wrong and hit a hospital. He hears all the talk about collateral damage but he still thinks he’s going to be sick. He didn’t sign up to kill injured people and doctors. He sends another email to Ice, wonders if he’ll have any magical words that will help him sleep at night.

…            …            …

                It hits him over dinner one night that Seresin’s first name is Jake. He has the same initials as Jas, is maybe born the same year and is also from Texas. That’s quite a few coincidences. He starts paying a little more attention. He knows Natasha thinks it’s because he wants to maybe fuck him, and okay, she’s not wrong, but it’s not the only reason he’s looking. Then he hears Hangman on the phone talking to someone, his sister he tells Natasha later when she asks (at Bradley’s not so gentle request). It’s that that makes him realize that’s all they are; coincidences. Jas doesn’t talk to his family and hates Texas, Seresin is the opposite. Seems about right.

…            …            …

>>How are you going?

>>Good. Didn’t need to vomit when a nightmare woke me up this time.

>>That’s what I call winning.

>>You and I have very different definitions of winning.

                Bradley walks into the rec room and Hangman is there on his phone, thumbs flying over the screen and he wonders who he’s talking to. He looks happy, clearly not as troubled as Jas is feeling, and he guesses they’re different people and have very different experiences.

                “Hey Hangman, you okay?”

                “Would you care if I wasn’t?” Hangman says back, and he’s smiling, but his eyes are glinting with a challenge. Bradley shrugs, because he can extend an olive branch, but shoving it down Hangman’s throat pretty much defeats the purpose.

                “I just thought I’d check in on you. Some people… struggle, when they’ve killed someone,” he doesn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, or detached, but they’re not friends. Maybe he should be checking in with Coyote instead, asking him if he thinks Hangman is okay. He’d definitely get a more honest answer, that’s certain.

                “I’m in the wrong profession if that’s something I’d allow to bother me.”

                “Okay. Just thought I’d ask.”

                God, he’s such an asshole.

2016

[azzie89]

Gravity-Chapter Twenty

(A Lukas Matsson Fanfic)

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty

Warnings: brief mentions of smut (18+)

It was morning. It was late morning and they still hadn't gotten out of bed. You were laying on your back and he was on his side, pressed up against you, with one arm wrapped around you across your boobs. The other was propping him up and your legs were tangled with his.

Every time you went to pull away, he would pull you back into him with a searing kiss. You couldn't help but stay in his arms and let his mouth devour yours. As he did so, your blood buzzed like fireworks danced beneath your skin, in your veins and you could not get enough. Your own hands tangled in his hair as they kissed. You felt a bit dizzy but still your lips chased his like he was the air your lungs desperately needed instead of him being the one stealing it.

Finally, you tried to gain sense as you panted, "Lukas, we can't stay in bed all day."

"I think we should," he pressed a kiss to your cheek with a grin.

"We can't. Because we..." you breathed. "We have things to do."

"They can wait," his hold tightened on you and he kissed your lips.

His tongue invaded your mouth and you let out a little moan. Then you moved away, scooting out of his hold to sit on the edge of the bed. You panted again.

"They can't wait," you reasoned. "It's Election Day. I...I have to vote and you....you have to get me a ring."

You were voting for Connor, of course. In the state of New York, it's not like your vote mattered much in the long run. Plus, you'd always be on the side of your best brother.

You were pouting now as you stared at him. You wanted a ring. Wanted something that was more than just words. You wanted proof.

"That can all be done. We can do that," he persuaded eagerly as he ran his fingers up your back, trailing down your spine which made you shiver. "But just...later."

You looked back at him. His touch was your absolute weakness along with his eyes that were staring at you, hypnotizing you. You felt all hot now as he was giving you that look, that darkened look, with a small little grin as he called your name softly. You bit your lip as you contemplated.

It felt like you were on auto-pilot as you just started to move towards him. You crawled back on the bed and you straddled him. You stared down at him a bit excitedly.

"This is so bad. We're so bad," you bit your lip again as you felt his erection press against your folds.

He sat up to caress your cheek before he gained a smug smile, "Maybe we're a little bad. But does that fucking matter?"

"No," you whispered as you felt him press against your slit and you started to breathe a little heavy with the anticipation. "You'll pull out, right?"

The condom he had used had been thrown away after many, many rounds of sex. They didn't have another one and you decided that today you also wanted to buy condoms because with the way things felt between them, it was almost like an addiction.

"I'll pull out," he stated before kissing your lips shortly and then you felt him push into you. And they had sex again.

_____

They were in the shower now. They had done a lot of kissing in here, too before you got Lukas to focus. They both applied shampoo to their hair before they washed the other in body wash. He was washing your body, rubbing soap suds onto your body. He was at breasts currently and you let out a little sigh.

"Do they...hurt you?" he asked curiously as he stared into your eyes.

"What? Why would my boobs hurt?"

"I mean, you're so tiny," he gained a small grin. "I heard that they can cause back pain or some shit. I don't fucking know."

You giggled, "No, I don't have any back pain. They're not that big."

He hummed as he moved his hands down your stomach before you commented, "Its hard to find bras, though. Like I can find bras that fit my boobs but they don't fit my waist. But they're usually unflattering types of bras."

You had big boobs but you were a tiny person. You had a tiny waist. You could never find a band size that fit you.

You remembered when you were a teenager and your boobs grew over the summer during puberty. You went back to school not wearing a bra because you couldn't find one that fit. It was an all-girls school but your teacher, who was a man, kept staring and was getting really red in the face. You didn't understand why. You were sent to the dean who called your father and Logan was furious; he was disappointed in you. From that point on, you had custom-made bras.

"There's fucking different kinds of bras? You're serious?" he asked in confusion.

"Yes, Lukas," you smiled in amusement. "And I have to get mine custom-made."

"That's a thing?"

"For me, it is."

"Of course it is," he grinned. "You're such a princess."

You blushed, "Shut up. You said I was supposed to be pampered."

"True. And I'm probably gonna fucking overdo it. You should know that."

"Okay," you smiled widely. "I'll spoil you, too, then."

He chuckled, "Alright."

He stared at your smile and he couldn't help it. He tilted your chin up with his soapy hand and kissed you. It was a short, sweet kiss before he pulled away muttering beautiful. You blushed before you turned around for him to do your backside. He started massaging your shoulders before trailing down. You sighed a little bit.

Then he got down to your butt and he squeezed your cheeks before massaging them. He spread them a little bit as he did so and you realized that he knew what your asshole looked like when you did not. His thumb then ran over that hole and you jumped.

"Uh-huh. No," you denied. "I don't like that. I'm not ever having ass-sex."

He couldn't help but chuckle, "Did you just call it ass-sex?"

You blushed, "Yes. But you get my point."

"I wasn't going to do anything, Ella," he started to wash down your thighs. "I just...I was going to ask if you were curious or whatever. I'm not really an ass guy but I would've done it if you wanted me to."

"I'm perfectly happy with your dick in my vagina thank you very much."

"Perfectly happy? Is it that good?"

You blushed again, "You already know the answer to that question."

He hummed before finishing cleaning you. You turned to do him. You gathered some soap in your hands before starting to lather his chest in it. You did his torso and you just barely reach his shoulders. He chuckled, "You're so cute."

He then lifted you up to hook your legs around his waist. He held you there with his hands on your thighs as you rubbed his shoulders, massaging them and relieving the tension. He hummed in content, "That feels good."

"Yeah, because you have terrible posture. You're always hunching over all the time," you said as you scrunched your nose. "I'm worried I'll have to make you wear a back brace when you're fifty."

"You're worried? About my posture?" he said in amusement.

"Of course I am," you nuzzled your nose against his cheek before pressing a kiss to the skin. "I'll always worry about you."

He smiled softly before kissing you. It was soft and slow before you both pulled away. It left you with a little happy smile as you continued your work on his shoulders. You trailed a finger over the scar on one; a scar from the accident.

Then you pecked him on the lips, "Okay. I'm all done here."

He set you down and you finished his front before doing his backside. Then you both washed off together and you had a smile, "You're gonna smell like me."

"Yeah. Like fucking flowers," he sniffed and frowned that he, a guy, smelt so feminine. "It's not very attractive."

"Of course it is," you smiled and ran your hands up his torso. "I like it. It's like you're mine."

"I am yours," he said before he grinned. "Wouldn't want to be anything else, princess."

You blushed before you reached up and looped your arms around his neck. You pulled him down to you before kissing softly and then muttering, "Love you."

He picked you up again to wrap your legs around his waist. You kissed for a little while longer under the water with your body pressed against his. The shower was a mess of steam and it was hot; it made everything even more dizzy as he kissed you but you didn't let yourself get carried away. The two of you finally got out to actually begin your day.

_____

You went out with Lukas. You went and voted while he waited in the car. Then you went with him to pick out a ring at a jewelry store. He was letting you pick the ring because he wanted you to have the ring that you wanted. They actually went to four different stores before she found one she liked, loved.

Your eyes had locked in on it. But you went around the store first just to make sure before coming back to it. It was a gold ring with a diamond in the shape of a heart. You wondered if it was childish to get a wedding ring that had a heart. But it was what you liked.

You supposed you wanted to look down at the heart on your finger and know that someone's heart belonged to you. It also went along with the matching bracelets you and Lukas wore. It was a theme because he had your heart and you had his.

So you wanted to wear a ring on your finger that told the whole world that your heart belonged to him. You didn't want some regular diamond because he was not just some jewel to you. You didn't want some ring that held no meaning. You wanted a heart because you gave him yours.

"This one," you happily smiled as you slid it on your finger; it was a bit loose and it would have to be resized.

"You sure? You know you can pick anything?"

The ring you picked was a bit dainty but still elegant. It wasn't very flashy compared to something that Lukas might've picked. This was more simple but you couldn't help but like it. It was bright to you.

"Yes, this one."

And you ended up picking out an engagement ring. It was a simple gold band with diamonds inset all the way around it. The two of you waited a few minutes for the rings to be resized before you left with Lukas.

You could feel the weight of the rings on your finger and it made you feel giddy. You immediately jumped up into his arms as they left and kissed him as he held you to him. You muttered I love you's in between kisses.

He put you down eventually and you walked with him back to the car holding his hand. You stared up at him a bit dreamily, "I'm really happy, you know. Is this what it's gonna be like with you everyday?"

"I'll try. I'll really fucking try," Lukas promised before he grinned slightly. "I'll do anything for my girl. My Ella."

His Ella. You felt butterflies and you pulled him in for a short kiss, stopping him as you did so. When you started walking with him again, you felt like this was the happiest you'd ever been. And you realized that not only did Lukas give you love by being in your life but he gave you joy as well. You finally felt joy deep in your bones that made you have a little skip in your step. You were happy and you would continue to be for as long as you had him, as long as you were his.

_____

That night you went to his apartment. He had some of his Gojo staff there to watch the election news, like a watch party, because whoever was elected could very well decide whether the deal went through. Lukas talked to Shiv on the phone a little bit; apparently, it was chaotic at Waystar. That didn't surprise you.

But you mostly focused on Lukas. You kept glued to Lukas. You sat beside him on the couch. Every time he moved, you moved. If he got up to go talk to someone, you'd grab his hand and go with him. Lukas grinned every time you did so; he loved the clinginess.

He'd remove his hand from yours and wrap his arm around you, pulling you close. He'd kiss the top of your head. He loved your presence up against him. And his chest felt all warm; he kept scratching at the feeling.

When everyone left, you immediately attacked him with kisses, sliding your hand under his shirt, "You shouldn't have had anyone over."

"Ella, it was work..." he went to argue but immediately paused as you took off your shirt. Jesus.

"So work is more important?" you questioned as you undid your bra and let it fall from your silky skin.

"No. Fuck. No," he swallowed before he grabbed you, pulling you to him, and kissed you hard.

You let him do so for a moment as his hands explored your breasts. Then you pulled away and grabbed his hand while walking backwards to the bedroom. He followed you like lovesick hunchback puppy.

"Don't ever think work is more important than me, Lukas," you demanded before your voice quieted. "That's what everyone else does."

"Never. Ella, never," he promised as gazed at you like you were made of stardust. "I love you."

There's no way he'd think, well, anything was more important than you. How could you ever think that? He blamed your father and your siblings. He hated that you didn't believe you were absolutely perfect. He would just have to prove it to you, every day, for the rest of his life.

Once they reached the bedroom, he kissed you ever so softly. Delicately. He tried to kiss you in a way that conveyed you were everything to him. Because you were.

Yes, he loved the sex. He'd always love the sex. He was a guy after all. But he could go without that because he loved you. He loved your ramblings and the way you worried. He loved your smile and your unending kindness. He loved your shyness and the way you blushed so easily at the simplest fucking compliment. And, god, he was surprised but he loved your hugs; they were so tight and warm. He fucking loved you. He loved you so much that it made it hard to breathe sometimes. You made it hard to breathe. You did that.

And he was terrified one day you'd wake up and realize how beneath you he was. But you never did. He hoped it'd stay that way.

[rahleeyah]

I’m curious about how you’re feeling about OC episode 2 now that it’s three weeks out. Because there are people who are so annoyed by it after waiting 700 days for EO to reunite and that there was no movement to their relationship. That they wanted EO to have meaningful conversations or just momentum.

I think there was movement to their relationship 🤷🏼‍♀️ like for real I just watched it for the second time this weekend, and I still think it was fantastic - it was entertaining, and eo were on their A game. Elliot gets hurt and Liv is there with no hesitation, jumping straight into crazy shit with him and touching his face. Just before that he's the one she calls when someone threatens Noah; he's the one who comes for her. There's a comfort, an ease, a certainty between them now that wasn't there before Ohio; that's momentum to me.

I think what you mean is people wanted there to be a kiss or some spelled out declaration of feelings or some confirmation they were fucking, which is different from conversations and momentum; it's confirmation. And I don't think we're gonna get that any time soon.

And I'm kind of ok with that.

On a character level, big emotional fraught conversations isn't who they are. We can point to a handful throughout the first 12 years. A handful, 4-5 at most (the hospital, the steps, throw in "it's too complicated" and "you do it cause you have to" if you like, etc) across twelve years. Words is not their medium. It never has been. They're action people. What they do is what matters. And what did they do? Showed up for each other, without hesitation. Without the doubt that's been keeping them apart. She's not ignoring his calls anymore; she's there. And so is he.

On a practical level. We are not gonna get the things we talk about. A Lewis convo, the bottle episode of my dreams, several seasons of them dating. The show has built itself on the possibility; I am coming to believe more and more that the possibility will only ever come at the end. Bc the possibility is what they're selling, not the reality.

And personally I'm fine with that; I'd rather keep getting episodes of them going off on adventures together than see the show handle their relationship poorly. A reveal that they've secretly been sleeping together - which is this show's MO - would be a slap in the face to me. Them being cute and soft at home would be less interesting to me personally than whatever the fuck they've got going on now.

The problem is I think we, fandom as a whole, sometimes get so excited about our ideas for what could be that we start to expect them without grounds. There was no indication that this episode was gonna be anything other than what it was - that it would touch on what EO are to each other, that's what Chris said. And it did.

The support that they are to one another, the way Elliot is going off the rails and Randall incorrectly blames that on him trying to make his father proud while Liv instinctively understands his real reasons for doing it - and shares those motivations, and helps him - speaks to the depth of their connection. The fact that they're in this now, not separate from one another but with one another, helping one another, showing up for one another, that's big.

We want it to be the EO show but it's not. Neither of em. It's the Elliot show and the Olivia (mostly) show. So Elliot's show is gonna be about him, and SVU is gonna be what it's been since s13 - Liv heavy, but still doing character work only fleetingly. Whole seasons of 1.0 passed with only one or two major EO™ moments; we remember those moments so well we sometimes forget how much time passed in between them.

The hot dog cart only sells hot dogs. It has always only sold hot dogs. How can we be mad when we go to the hot dog cart and find out we can't get a burger?

This is not to say like. No one should have hope and eo is never gonna happen; I think it will, eventually. But I think when it happens it won't look like what we expect. And I think that in the meantime, what fandom creates, the beautiful universes we draw in our heads, the conversations we have and the connections we make, are fed by episodes like this one. That give us just enough to keep us inspired, to keep the creativity flowing, to keep us dreaming. Sometimes I prefer to dream, to tell my own story. Isn't it better to dream, sometimes, than to have someone come and say no you're wrong this is how it happens? To have hundreds of versions of the story, instead of just one?

Anyway. I liked the episode a lot lol

[fullsunstrawberry]

PREVIEW dirty little secret

{OUT NOW}

Synopsis: Childhood best friends' relationship is strained when you drunkenly sleep with his new best friend. Chenle’s panic about y/n regretting their one night stand turns into a secret relationship. Just as you think everything is fine, you're faced with the ultimatum: “It’s either him or me.” or in other words: A small silly little pinky promise will destroy a friendship

Genre: friends to lovers, hidden romance, forbidden (not really) lovers??

Content Warnings: Dreamies getting drunk, mention of blackout, one night stand, turned more, ANGST with fluffy end, Jisung is a little shit in this, SMUT (but very vanilla smut)

Word Count: 7.2k (preview is 1.4k)

Release Date: Sep. 16

TAGLIST OPEN!

"Come on! You never miss a hangout," Jisung whined into the phone.

“They always end up with me getting drunk and sleeping on the dorm couch, no thanks,” you replied.

“This time it’s at Chenle’s house. You can even call dibs on his spare bedroom!” Jisung reasoned.

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” You already knew the answer.

“Nope, see you later!”

Once Jisung ended the call, you had a moment to think. Great, you got yourself into another hangout. It’s not that you hate hanging out with the guys, but you've started to develop a little crush on Chenle.

He’s been extra flirty with you lately. It’s not because he likes you; he's been playful with everyone! Well, that's what you try to tell yourself.

But you can't like him! Jisung would go nuts. He was the one to introduce you to all the guys, promising you wouldn't like any of them when you were twelve. But it seems like Jisung has held you up to that silly pinky promise.

One time you told Jisung that Renjun's new haircut looked really good on him and Jisung freaked out, claiming you were falling for Renjun and it was against the “Bro code.” This made you confused because that's not what bro code is, but he looked very upset, so you didn't question it.

Now there is no way you will ever admit to liking Chenle. If he got upset with Renjun, you know he would be furious if you even flirted back with Chenle. That’s his best friend! He’s not the type to be happy about his boy and girl best friend dating. You're sure he’s told that to Chenle so you never took his flirting too seriously. That didn't stop your heart from beating faster after every time he looked at you.

A group of guys yelled as soon as Chenle opened the door.

“They’re already this rowdy,” you sighed, already coming up with excuses as to why you had to leave.

Chenle laughed at your disapproval written all over your face. “Stick by me, I swear I'm not as bad as them.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing that he was literally the loudest one. You let out a “mmh” before walking around him to be greeted with a bunch of “Y/NNNNs.” You could definitely tell they started drinking without you by the way Donghyuck reached out to you with grabby hands.

“You guys already started without me!” you grabbed an already-opened beer on the table and took a swig out of it.

“It's not our fault you're late,” Jaemin teased.

“Sorry, I have a life.”

“Reading fanfiction?” Renjun giggled.

“Can’t believe I'm already getting attacked, I just arrived!”

“I told you to stick by me,” Chenle laughed.

“You're right. It’s me and you now… Let’s get drunk!” You smiled, grabbing another beer to give to Chenle.

You're glad you didn't have to wake up on a couch hungover. Waking up in a bed surrounded by the comfiest blanket wrapped around you felt like heaven. You did not want to wake up.

You stretched to feel the coldness of the other side of the bed. But your leg hit another leg that wasn't your own. You don’t remember anything after Donghyuck’s karaoke challenge. Did someone sleep over too? Mark was supposed to pick up the guys and bring them back to the dorm… Maybe he forgot?

Moving your head to see who ended up passed out with you, you froze.

“WHY DON’T I HAVE ANY CLOTHES ON?!?”

Should you look? Should you not look? You slowly turn your head to check who you fell asleep with. Maybe you didn't hook up with one of your friends… Maybe you just overheated and took off your clothes.

Turning over, you yelp in shock. Chenle is still sleeping next to you. Even worse, he’s shirtless, and you don’t really want to check under the sheets to confirm your suspicions.

But before you could panic any further, you noticed that Chenle was still sound asleep, a peaceful expression on his face. You took a moment to calm yourself down and gather your thoughts. Maybe there was a logical explanation for this situation.

You carefully wriggled out of the bed, making sure not to disturb Chenle. As you grabbed your clothes scattered across the room, memories of last night started to flood back. The drunken laughter, the friendly banter, and when all of the guys left. All you could remember was cleaning up the kitchen because you felt bad leaving it such a mess. Then Chenle's hands grabbed yours in protest and said he would clean it up in the morning. But instead of agreeing you tried to pull his hands away which caused him to press into you.

Shaking your head to bring yourself back to reality you quickly threw your clothes back on and made your way downstairs. Needing some water because of how dry your throat felt. You didn't want to even think about why your throat hurt...

Once downstairs you can finally think about what the hell just happened. But no, life hates you. Instead, you were met with Mark washing dishes.

"Finally you woke up" Mark laughed before turning around and being met with a face he did not expect to see.

"Why did you come down from Chenle’s room?"

You blinked at Mark's question, trying to come up with a plausible response. "Oh, I just woke up and wanted some water," you stammered, attempting to act casual.

Mark raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Water? Really? Because it looked like you were in quite a rush to get out of there."

You felt the heat rising to your cheeks as you fumbled for words. "I just... didn't want to disturb Chenle. He's still sleeping, and I didn't want to wake him up."

Mark's eyes narrowed, studying your face. "Uh-huh. Sure." He seemed unconvinced, but he didn't press further. Instead, he went back to washing the dishes.

You took the opportunity to escape the awkward situation and headed towards the kitchen table “What do I do Mark, I fucked up did I?”

Mark sighed, turned off the water, and dried his hands on a kitchen towel before looking at you with a serious expression. "Well, it depends on what you want. Did something happen between you and Chenle last night?"

You hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest with Mark. "I don't remember much, but I woke up in his bed, and I think we hooked up. I have no idea what went down, and I'm panicking."

Mark sighed again, his expression softening. "Look, Y/N, it happens. People get drunk, things get blurry. Maybe nothing happened, or maybe something did. The important thing is to communicate with Chenle. Figure out what both of you remember and how you both feel about it."

"But what if he thinks it’s gross or something?" you worriedly questioned.

Mark shook his head. "Chenle is a good guy, and he knows how these things can happen when everyone's been drinking. Just talk to him. Honesty is the key here."

Taking a deep breath, you nodded.

• ──────── •

Before you could process the situation, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the stairs. Chenle, struggling to pull down his hoodie and hastily reaching for his keys, descended in a rush of movement.

"Easy there, you're going to hurt yourself" Mark teased, chuckling as Chenle glanced up with an expression of sheer panic.

"Mark, fuck! I messed up big time. Y/N's going to hate me, and she'll never want to see me again. I genuinely like her, and I've messed everything up," Chenle exclaimed, the urgency in his voice evident.

Mark raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with you. "Well, you might want to talk to her about that instead of assuming the worst," he suggested.

Chenle's eyes widened as he finally noticed your presence. "Y/N, I... I'm so sorry if I did something wrong. I don't really remember what happened, but I know we ended up doing something, and now I'm just freaking out," he rambled, looking genuinely distressed.

You took a deep breath, trying to ease the tension in the room. "Chenle, let's just talk about it, okay? I don't remember much either, but panicking won't help. We need to figure out what actually happened and how we both feel about it."

Chenle nodded, relief washing over his face. "Yeah, you're right. We should talk." He looked at Mark, who gave him an encouraging nod.

“This is something you two have to figure out.” Mark grabbed his jacket and left.

TBC

© 2024 fullsunstrawberry all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs and comments are appreciated a lot!

[fyreflys]

Prompt if you’d like it! Peeta giving his cold to Katniss on accident but since she no longer has a spleen, it turns into a more flu like illness for poor Katniss and Peeta must nurse her back to health (similar to her caring for him in the cave but ya know… #married)

Oooo this is an adorable idea! And I got another prompt that I think I can include that would work perfectly together. MERGE TIME!

Chicken Noodle Soup

(Katniss’s POV) - Love and Some Verses, Iron & Wine

Everlark period/sick-fic, just fluff fluff fluff

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you sick.”

Is what Peeta keeps telling her. Constantly apologizing for transferring his cold. Even though Katniss didn’t even bother trying to keep her distance to avoid getting sick, so really it’s her own fault.

Katniss is pretty sure that no one ever really intentionally tries to get others sick, it’s always an accident. Happens as a result of what being sick means. And she knows Peeta didn’t do it on purpose, he couldn’t possibly have wanted to make her sick as a dog. So the fact that he keeps apologizing, as if there’s any possibility that he did do this on purpose, is beginning to make it feel like maybe he did. That, and it’s getting annoying. Very quickly.

“Peeta,” she groans, “Just- shut up.”

She doesn’t actually mean that. He’s really the only thing keeping her sane right now. She’s been bed ridden for three days now, and if her body didn’t feel like shit, there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for a hike in the woods.

“Sorry.” He whispers, dabbing the wet washcloth on her forehead.

Yesterday Peeta dragged her to the doctor, because he’s convinced she’s dying. The doctor just confirmed it’s a bad cold, made worse by the fact that Katniss no longer has a spleen to help her immune system. He gave them some medication that “might” help, and then sent them on their way.

Needless to say, Katniss was not happy. Mostly because Peeta had dragged her out of the house when she felt like shit for no apparent reason.

Peeta was angry too. Kept mumbling something about “malpractice” and the doctor being an “idiot” and then trying to convince her that they need to go to the Capital, to see a “real” doctor.

“Peeta, I’m not sure if you have forgotten, but I’m in exile. Banned, to stay here in twelve for the rest of my life. So no, we cannot go to the Capital.”

She doesn’t mention the fact that she really doesn’t want to be re-reminded of all the terrible things that they’ve seen and had happen to them; most of which happened in the Capital.

“You’re the mockingjay. If something was majorly wrong with you, they’d have to save you.”

“I don’t want to be the mockingjay, anymore.” She’d grumbled as he tucked her back into bed, “and I’ve lived through worse than this.”

He frowned. Much like he is right now, as he looks at her with those big, blue, pleading puppy dog eyes.

“What?” She rasps.

He licks his lips. “I just…I’m so sorry you’re sick.”

She swears his heart is too big for his own good.

“You know what would make me feel better?” She sighs.

He perks up. “What?”

“Cuddle.” She whispers. She’d usually reach out to grab him, but her body feels too much like lead to exert that much energy.

He smiles. “I can do that.”

He peels back the bedsheets, and Katniss shivers at what feels like freezing air. He curls in behind her, gently squeezing her close. She melts against him. The arm around her warm and comforting. Until his hand slips under her shirt and his fingers start tracing patterns on her side, and he begins to pepper kisses to her shoulders. Despite them being small and gentle touches, her nerves feel overly sensitive with how feverish she is, and each soft graze almost feels painful.

“Stop- please,” she whispers, “that- too sensitive.” She mumbles.

“Oh. Sorry.” He places one more peck to her cheek, and then leaves her be.

She falls into sleep like a rock tossed down a ravine, skipping sleep entirely and diving straight into dreams. The world feels like it’s tilting and spinning around her as she dreams. They start out as strange and uncomfortable, but somewhere along the way they get more and more unhinged, twisted visions persisting, until finally-

She startles awake suddenly, eyes snapping open as she gasps for air. The nightmare feels plastered to her eyelids.

“Peeta?” She croaks softly, heart hammering in her chest as a tear slips down her cheek.

But she’s alone. Peeta is nowhere to be seen. She forces herself to reach across the bed behind her in search of him. But he’s not there either.

Momentarily she fears he’s abandoned her, but then she realizes that’s ridiculous. She couldn’t escape him even if she wanted to.

She tries to shake the nightmare from her head. Desperately trying to imagine something else, like- Deer. Deer and squirrels, prancing through the forest. The nightmare was not real not real not real, as Peeta would say.

She takes a deep breath. Her entire body aches painfully. Specifically her lower back and her hips and- oh.

Even sick, and aching all over, she knows this feeling well.

“Damn it.” She huffs.

She supposes it was about time this happened again. She doesn’t bother keeping track. There’s no use with how irregular she is.

“Peeta.” She calls, but her voice is weak.

He doesn’t come. Where is he? She sighs. She’s going to have to do this herself, isn’t she?

She wills herself to gather any remaining energy she has to sit up. It takes a few minutes to convince herself.

I could just wait here, until he comes back-

No.

She sits up suddenly, impulsively, not giving herself a chance to talk herself out of it. Her head spins, pain pounding through her skull. She coughs, clutching her head.

When the throbbing passes she manages to will her legs to dangle over the side of the bed. And then on the count of three she stands. She’s shaky, and the air is freezing agaisnt her feverish skin, and it’s awful.

Just get to the bathroom-

She makes it a few steps towards the door. And then she stumbles. She just barely catches the doorknob. She sends the door slamming closed as she falls.

“Katniss?!” Peeta shouts from down stairs.

She rolls over onto her back, and the world feels like it’s still spinning. He comes rushing into the bedroom, crouching down when he sees her.

“Oh my god are you okay?” Hands are immediately at her head, feeling for any bumps or bleeding, “What happened? Why are you out of bed?”

He sits and sets her head in his lap, brushing hair out of her face.

“Bathroom.” She whispers. “Just. Fell.”

“You should have called for me I would have helped.”

“I did.” She breathes, and even talking is exhausting. With Peeta right above her the world finally stops spinning.

He frowns. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. I was making pasta.”

She takes in a breath through her mouth, nose too stuffy. “Bathroom.”

“Well- I think we should take a moment. You just- what, fell trying to walk? That’s pretty concerning,” He feels her forehead, “and you’re really burning up, gosh.”

She could have told him she had a fever. It feels like it’s radiating through her bones.

“Toilet,” her tongue clicks softly in her mouth, feeling dry, “Bleeding.”

“Bleeding? What- where? Why didn’t you say you were bleeding! Oh my god-“ he starts to shuffle, pulling at her clothes to find the source.

“Period.” She groans, just about fed up with him.

“Oh.” He pauses. “Right. Okay. Let’s get that taken care of then.”

He shuffles to sit her up against the wall, and then scoops her up bridal style. He carefully sets her down by the toilet, holding on as he pulls down her sweats and underwear in one fell swoop.

And yep- there it is. A massacre in her pants.

Peeta helps her sit, making sure she’s stable enough to sit up on her own. He pulls off her sweats and underwear, turning on the sink to set them in.

“Cold,” she whispers.

“Cold? You’re cold?”

Well- yeah, she kind of is. Despite feeling like she’s burning up from the inside, the floor and the toilet seat and the air is freezing against her skin. But she’s referring to the water.

“Yeah,” she breathes, “But-water. Cold water.”

“You need cold water? I can get you water. You’re probably thirsty you’ve been asleep for like four hours.”

Okay, yes, that too. She could use a glass of water.

“Yes, but- blood. Needs cold water.”

“Oh! Yeah, okay. Cold water. Right.”

She closes her eyes, slumping on the toilet as she pees. Peeta leaves to grab stuff from the bedroom. He returns with a fresh pair of clothes. He holds a cup of water up to her lips, and she sips. It feels like heaven down her throat.

“Thanks.” She breathes.

He just pecks her forehead. “How bout I run you a short bath? Luke warm. Try to get your body temp down. And you could really use a shower.”

She groans.

“I know- I know. But it will make you feel better, I promise.”

She just grumbles. He gets to work running a bath, and then scrubs the blood out of her underwear under the sink. He struggles to get a pad into the clean pair of undies, and Katniss finally wills herself to use the little energy she does have to show him. He kisses her cheek.

“Right. Got it. Now let’s get you in.”

She complains, but doesn’t have the energy to fight against him. He pulls off her sweaty t-shirt, and picks her up and sets her down in the tub. The water feels freezing at first. She yelps, clutching at him.

“I know- I know it feels cold but I promise it will help. You’re burning up Katniss. We need to cool you down.”

She holds onto him, and he presses kisses against her head. After a few minutes it starts to feel okay. He gently pours water through her hair. He scrubs in shampoo and rinses. He gently scrubs her with a warm soapy washcloth after he pulls the drain, just under her arms and between her legs, barely batting an eye at the blood. They’ve both seen enough of it for a lifetime. He turns on the shower head to rinse her off. The water feels like freezing needles against her overly sensitive skin. By the time he gets her out and finishes toweling her off she’s pissed.

She glowers at him from the toilet as he dresses her. He ignores her scathing eyes as he sprays in conditioner and brushes her hair, fumbling to put it in a makeshift braid.

“There! See, all better!” He smiles when he’s done.

She is not amused. Yes, her body feels less like a boiling fire, but she still hurts. And despite him doing all the work, she’s exhausted. But she’s too angry and stubborn to admit it, or even consider closing her eyes for some shut eye.

He chuckles. “You’re such a sourpuss when you’re sick, you know that?”

“That was hell.” She snips.

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Yeah yeah, okay Haymitch.”

He pulls her off the toilet and pulls up her underwear and pants. He gently scoops her up.

“You want to set up camp downstairs on the couch? That way it’s easier to get my attention if you need something. Also I’m making you soup.”

She gives a grunt, and winces as the pain that radiates up and down her spine and belly.

“I’ll grab you some painkillers.” He adds on.

She would usually turn those down. But at this point she’ll take them.

He gently lays her on the couch. He runs back upstairs to grab linens. He comes back down with arms full of blankets and pillows. He drops them in a heap on the floor. He leaves again. Katniss looses track of all the things he runs off and gets, eyes slipping closed.

He takes her temperature.

He hisses, “One o’ two. Yeah. You’re definitely getting meds.” Which he shoves into her mouth very shortly afterward. He tries not to look worried, but she can tell that he is. She’s worse than she was yesterday. He forces her to take the medication the doctor gave them the day before. She doesn’t have the energy to fight him.

He tucks her in under one blanket, but gives her plenty of pillows. He sets tissues and a glass of water on the side table next to her head. He kisses her forehead.

“Anything else you need?” He says softly.

Probably. But right now she’s exhausted. And talking is too much energy. So she just hums.

“Okay. Soup should be ready in thirty minutes or so. Do you want me to wake you up or let you sleep?”

Truthfully, she wants him to curl in beside her on the couch and not leave her side. Because with him pressed against her, she has a semblance of relief.

Instead she just grunts. He pecks her forehead again, chuckling softly.

“Okay.”

And then she’s left alone. And despite being tired, she can’t seem to fall sleep. The pain is just too much. Enough that she’d toss and turn, but she doesn’t have the energy to do so. So instead she lays motionless in agony, waiting for meds to kick in.

It’s possible she does drift off. But it seems like each time her eyes open the grandfather clock by her mothers old bedroom door hasn’t moved an inch.

Finally Peeta reappears, with a steaming bowl in hands.

“Chicken noodle soup, for m’lady.” He bows, just for the dramatics.

He helps her sit up, and carefully spoons it to her lips. With how much pain shes in, the thought of food makes her nauseous. But Peeta coaxes her to eat. And she does. One small spoonful at a time. With how stuffed her nose is she can barely taste it, but what she does taste is good.

And it reminds her of the cave, in their first games. As she spoon fed him. Monitoring his leg. Trying everything she could think of to keep him alive.

Thankfully, now is nothing like that. This is peaceful, and warm, and safe.

With food in her belly she realizes how hungry she is. And she just about scarfs down the rest of the bowl, along with the hunk of bread he dips in the broth. And she feels like she has a little more energy.

“You want more?” He asks softly.

She shakes her head. She feels too full. Any more and she might puke.

“Your appetite is back. That’s a good thing.”

“I feel like I’m going to puke.” She grumbles.

“Like- actually?” He freezes, shifting as if ready to grab a bin.

“No- just- a lot of food. Nauseous from the pain.”

He frowns. “The pain meds should have kicked in already. You look better. Less pale.” He feels her forehead. “You don’t feel as hot.”

She winces. “Cramps.”

His face relaxes. “Oh.”

She closes her eyes. With a full belly she’s ready to pass out.

“What if…I tried to rub them out?” He says softly.

Her eyes flicker open lazily. “Please. And- my back- please.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He leans in press a kiss to her forehead.

He gently pushes her to lay down. He tugs up her shirt and pulls the waistband of her pajama pants lower.

“Where does it hurt?” He asks softly.

She slowly moves to touch, fingers almost feeling numb against her own skin as she traces just inside of her pelvic crests, and down below her belly button. His warm hands are still almost too much against her feverish skin when he reaches out. But she needs this.

He’s far too gentle.

“Harder,” she whispers, “like bread.”

He’s good at kneading bread.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you-“

“There’s no way you could make me feel worse than I already do. Please.”

And finally his palms and thumbs press in. She urges more, and more, and finally gets impatient and shifts his hands to press right there and- oh. It feels so good she actually moans.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh?”

“Shut up.” She gasps.

He grins wickedly. But doesn’t comment on any more of her breathless gasps as he digs in and finally gives her relief.

“When- you’re done,” she breathes, “gonna need- bathroom.”

He pauses, “Do you have to pee? I’m literally pressing like right on your bladder-“

“No- new pad.” Because he’s quite literally kneading the blood right out of her. Which would usually be disgusting, but right now the relief feels too good for her to care.

“Oh. Okay.” And he keeps going.

She nearly falls asleep with his hands on her stomach. She still hurts, and the pain still radiates through her bones, but the stretch of her cramping muscles is almost heavenly. She closes her eyes, and Peeta presses kisses to her shoulders, trailing down to her stomach. He rubs softly after he pulls back, hands sliding over her hips.

“You want me to do your back?” He asks softly.

She hums. He helps flip her over. His hands and fingers roam over her skin, pressing and pulling all the way up her spine and between her shoulders. She practically melts into the couch as he soothes her aches. His lips ghost over her skin in subtle kisses, and she never wants it to end.

Eventually he pulls away, tugging her shirt back down.

“Bathroom?” He asks.

She grumbles. “Don’t wanna move.”

He hums. He forces her off the couch anyways, and drags her to the bathroom. She changes things herself, and then he helps her back to the couch.

“I’m gonna eat and then we can snuggle. If you want. I can turn on the TV.”

She just grunts. He turns on the screen above their fireplace mantle, and flips through channels. He lands on a show they’ve binge watched over the years, and then leaves for the kitchen. She zones out the sounds and clatter that he makes. Finally he sits down by her feet with a bowl of soup, and her eyelids feel heavy. She drifts halfway between awake and asleep, until he curls up with her. He presses a kiss to her temple.

“Thank you.” She whispers. He’s done more than enough for her. And she knows he’d do everything if he had to. And she is thankful.

“Of course.” He breathes. And pecks her lips.

She smiles, and uses the little energy she does have to snake an arm around him and hold him close. Their foreheads knock together.

“I love you.” He breathes softly.

She hums, “Love you too.”

[hekateinhell]

I’m curling up to start my reread of The Vampire Armand, which feels like the perfect way to cap off Valentine’s Day. I think I was thirteen the first time I met my blorbo. I usually go with thirteen although for some reason the year 2007 stands out in my mind, which would have meant I just turned twelve. Perhaps, like Lestat says, memory plays its tricks. The month was February, that I remember for sure. We lived in a rundown old apartment in New York City that I don’t think had been renovated since the second World War. It was snowing outside and freezing inside. Somewhere in another room a toddler cried. I still had a child’s bed, although I hadn’t felt like a child in a very long time. A white quilt with beautiful large pink roses and lush green leaves stitched in. It was one of the few beautiful things I had to myself; it got stolen from the laundromat across the street a few months later. I never expected to make it out of that apartment, although I did, ironically, end up leaving younger than most and made my grand exit at sixteen. But these are the conditions in which I met Armand, and to quote Marius, “I loved him instantly and impossibly.”

Maybe it was just that easy for one wounded child, a common child, to love another. I don’t think I had enough self-awareness to project on Armand at that age, and I don’t necessarily think I project on him now either. If, gun to my head, I had to pick any VC character, I would say my personality most closely aligns with Lestat’s. The tears, the inappropriate laughter that stems from a dysregulated nervous system that pisses everyone off, the temperament (which unfortunately, is my father’s as well), the hurts, the mother wound, etc. That’s if I have to pick though, and that’s obviously not my full story. I wasn’t blessed with his kind of charisma and showmanship, and I definitely don’t have his optimism and buoyancy either. But I can absolutely understand what Anne meant when she said Lestat was her “ideal self”. We all want that ability to spring back, don’t we?

I loved Armand as I had never loved another character with TVA alone already, but seeing him through Lestat’s eyes in TVL is what I think cemented that love forever. When Lestat said: “This was the coven master, surely, this quiet and forceful one, the one who would survive, no matter how the orphan in him wept.” I just thought… well shit, that has to be me, doesn’t it? I have to be that one, the one who would survive. Even if I didn’t want to. And guess what? I did survive and I am surviving, almost a full twenty years later. Sometimes I get really sick, or I get really hurt, both of which are sadly the undeniable proof and nature of living. But I’m here, I’m trying—like Armand—I’m always trying to change and grow as best I can. And I’m getting to the point where it’s either a product of time, or trauma, or repeated illness, or all of the above, but I just don’t remember things the way I once did—and I used to have a photographic memory that I was so proud of, as if I had done anything to earn it in the first place.

My childhood and adolescence blend together into one indiscernible grey soup, punctuated by a few moves, a couple babies born, a baby lost before it was known, a dead cicada on the pavement, and a wild-haired boy on the school playground who has since passed away. Sticky ice cream, a pretty girl who pretended to be my friend in the third grade so she could copy my worksheets, and a wanted for homicide poster at the taxi dispatch center. Most of the time it doesn’t feel like I’m even remembering my own life, the reference points are so few and far in between. Maybe, like Armand tells Benji, I was born from a black egg. No, that can’t be, I have too much of my father and my mother in me, the good and the bad and the little extra surprises just for me.

But books are still something that stands out to me, something tangible that preserves the moment and the environment in which I first knew them. Evidence that all those things happened, that I was there, that I left. That I loved those babies and I loved that boy. That it wasn’t all bad, not really. I’m not who I thought I was going to be when I grew up, but for a long time, I didn’t think I would grow up at all.

I’m still here though, and the words: “I looked off, wanting the quiet, dreaming of bowers suddenly, not in words but in images, the way my old mind would do it, wanting to lie down in garden beds among growing flowers, wanting to press my face to earth and sing softly to myself. The spring outside, the warmth, the hovering mist that would be rain. All this I wanted. I wanted the swampy forests beyond, but I wanted Sybelle and Benji, too, and to be gone, and to have some will to carry on”, still fill me with the same thrill and melancholy comfort they did when I read them for the very first time all those years ago… And it finally felt like someone understood. ♥️

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Since you asked for more asks 🫂

Here's one for Josh's point of view again: do you keep count of the many times you found yourself in jail? How does it feel to be jailed once again after a drunken binge?

Hello! I really do appreciate these asks, it's helping keep my head level. But without further ado. Joshi's pov (he rambles before he starts panicking. I've set this during a 4e 201 fic i'm writing where he's rarely sober except for after he's slept off a bender and he's in and out of gaol a lot. He's painfully sober during this)

If I'm honest, I stopped counting a long time ago. There was once a time in my life where I fought tooth and nail to not find myself locked in a cell again but evidently, I'm not very good at it.

I'm technically still on the run from my conscription two hundred years ago, since like I kinda just left after I got Corprus. I'm aware that my original sentence had been fucked about with a fuck tonne, so I don't really know how long my original sentence was. Last I heard it was 55 years- course that was before it got changed again to execution. Apparently that's part of the reason I was picked for playing folk hero - my death was meant to be useful. Kinda bit them in the ass, aye?

As you can imagine, I'm not really the compliant sort. Cosades would have me thrown into the dungeons of Fort Moonmoth every time I fucked about. I'll be honest here, I do have a bit of an issue with being in total darkness. You don't spend twelve years in a tiny, solitary cell with no view of the sun and be okay, I think. I sleep with a lamp burning, even after all this time. Cosades knew that I think and that's how he got me as far as he did. It's why I killed him.

So I really tried my best to avoid finding myself in another gaol cell for a really long time. Mind you, I had Erra to keep me from fucking up too much back then. I didn't find myself back in a cell until I was back in Cyrodiil just before the Oblivion Crisis. Think I stopped counting how often I got thrown in gaol to sleep off a binge or for beating the shit out of some dumb fuck that looked at me wrong around then too. Yeah, it wasn't my best time or anything. I kinda go up and down with my drinking, yeah?

I'm pretty bad with it now, I know that and I'm fucking astounded they keep letting me out. I got thrown in Falkreath's Gaol the other day for breaking some n'wah's face and I can tell you, that place is unpleasant. The cells are flooded and that water isn't particularly clean. Not a great place to wake up after passing out somewhere near whatever their tavern's called, yeah?

I can tell you that I still feel panic every time I wake up to the feeling of shackles around my ankles. The Redoran back in Raven Rock didn't do that though, I think Veleth figured I wasn't really a danger to anyone but myself and the Redeemer shrine up at the Temple after the first few incidents.

I'm usually sober, or almost sober when I wake up and that means my brain is fucking yelling at me about how much of a failure I am. I feel so fucking empty all the time. Just all the fucking time! Then Nerevar gets in there and-

SHUT UP!

Sorry, um... I don't feel good when I'm in there. I spiral coz of all the thoughts and if I'm in a cell with someone else it's so much fucking worse! Like, I've killed a guy for as little as a touch on the shoulder. I'm not proud of it, and I may not be able to go back to High Rock for a long fucking time. I don't do well locked up and yet I'm always fucking up and getting myself thrown right back in there!

I don't know, I don't know which way is up half the time. I sometimes wonder if I'll really step in it again like I did when I was a kid and get thrown in a real prison again. I got shanked in the gut once when when I was at that tobacco plantation and I still have nightmares about it. I've always thought that that was how I'd meet my end and theres nothing to stop me from dying from blood loss. It just takes far longer than a normal guy.

I've tried.

I don't do well locked up. I just wish I could stop being a fuck-up.