#there is nothing in the description of the video don't check
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I have a professor who only gives 8/10 on everything I do and he also misgendered my cat so i think i hate him and think inconvenient things should occur to him for his crimes
#like literally Everything i do even when i swear im doing it right#misgendering my cat isn't the promble either she's a little void#it's that he apparently 'read' my work but didn't actually READ my work and proceeded to grade 8/10 if that makes sense#and then he said i sounded too poetic in my description like What i just described what i'm looking at#he also said i didn't watch an instructional video but yes i did i disliked his voice the whole time i remember this#he even did it on a random quiz that had nothing to do with the course itself. it was just a check up to see how we feel#like i can't help but wonder if he's doing this to everyone else in the class too? do we all just have a collective 90%#anywae grades like this don't usually bother me until it is every grade i get bc then it feels personal for some reason sjndkgjs
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#welcome to another installment of: angel spits out all his thoughts about autism cause if he keeps them inside his head will explode#in today's episode: is it possible that my ''panic attacks'' have been autistic meltdowns all this time?#then answer is maybe!#ok so i was watching this youtube video from channel I'm autisticn now what? (check it out it's great!)#and meg was talking about the different types of autistic meltdowns and how they might manifest#and then in the comments people were discussing autistic meltdowns vs panic attacks and how cofused they used to be about them#and that got me thinking... there's a big thing that needs to happen during a panic attack for it to be a panic attack#and that is anxious thoughts... many people talk about fear of death during panic attacks#and that was never my experience. I don't feel like I'm going to die when I have these ''attacks''#they feel painful and like i'm completely out of control but my head is quite clear in that regard#i always thought it was because i don't think dying is like The Worst thing that could happen to me so maybe that was why#and it never ocurred to me that it could be an autistic meltdown because i always saw those as ''little boy hits his head against the wall'#(horrible i know) but it's more than that! (plus i sadly started self harming when the ''attack'' is too bad so not i fit that idea lol)#it's the uncontrollable crying. the throwing anything you have at hand across the room. the not being able to utter words#(other than ''no'' in my case) it's the complete lack of control#and that fits so much more to what i experience! i even related to meg's personal anecdote about a meltdown she had as a child#being separated from my mom made me go into full panic modes as a kid and that was seen as a tantrum but it was more than that to me!#and as an added bonus the only therapist i've ever seen in my life used to call my panic attacks ''pseudo-panic attacks''#because even she felt it didn't quite fit in the description (not that she was a good therapist so i can't put her as an example lol)#but anyways... yeah every day that goes by i'm more and more convinced I am autistic and it scares me to fucking death#because of the way my mom reacted when i first raised the question. so yeah this is for nothing lol nothing will change in my life#¯\_(ツ)_/¯#angel talks#personal
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Writers, here’s your reminder that you should be doing warm-ups!
Athletes need to warm up. Musicians need to warm up. Artists need to warm up. Heck, I even have to play a few matches in video games before I get into a groove every day.
Warm-ups help you get into the right headspace, give you more control of your actions and word choice, get you comfortable in your physical setting (eg: with your keyboard, notebook, tablet, or whatever you're writing with), and spark creativity.
Even if you don’t think you have spoons to write, sit down and do a couple warm-ups. If you still don’t want to, that’s alright. But. I think you’ll be surprised how often they help break that ice.
5-15 minutes is all you need. I personally set a timer for ten minutes each time and do not stop writing until the time is up. Your warm-up can be anything at all so long as it gets you writing and starts nudging those creative juices.
Here's some common warm-ups:
Journaling. Just jot down some notes about your day. Feel free to really lean into something that you noticed. We're going for description and details -- try to avoid settling into a spiral or focusing on something negative that will upset your creativity.
Short story prompts. Type that into Pinterest and pick the most ridiculous, cliche thing you can. Write a little scene, story summary, or even a rant about why you do or don't like the prompt. Just write.
Vocab challenge. If you like a bit more critical thinking to get you in the zone, have a random vocabulary word generator spit out five or so words. Check their meanings and jot down a little story or thought that includes all five. You get more familiar with beautiful and descriptive language, and it gives you a much narrowed prompt (which is lovely if you're like me and suffer each time there's an open-ended task assigned).
Character moments. Try putting your character into a generic setting and write down almost meticulously what their thought process would be. Follow them realizing they've just stepped in mud or dreading the start of the day. Pick a mundane thing and describe them working through it. This will not only get your writing going, but it will wake up the character's voice in your head.
Ongoing storytelling. Did you know that Whinnie the Poo was A.A. Milne's warm up story? He would jot down a quick little story with those very basic characters and did so every day. Whatever came to mind. He kept writing little tidbits on the same characters and eventually it turned into a series. Having that ongoing plot with isolated scenes and simple characters can help you feel more motivated to sit down and write.
Get-to-know-you-questions. Google a list of basic first-date questions (there are a million out there) and answer one yourself. Go into specifics. Where do you most want to travel and why? Let yourself ramble until the question is fully answered.
Writer's block blues. This is a favorite of mine. If you're truly stuck, write about being stuck. Eg: 'I'm supposed to write for ten minutse, but that feels so stupid and impossible. No one is goign to read this anyway. I have no ideas and the page is so overwhelming when its blank. I used to be able to write on and on and nothing could stop me. it was like breathing. but now I have nothign and do nothing and I can't even do a stupid prompt-' Even the rambling and ranting got me writing. It made things easier. It made writing this post easier. Also -- notice the typos? Yeah, don't fix those. You're in writing mode, not editing mode when you're doing this. If you edit while you write, you're forcing yourself to stay in your executive and calculating headspace rather than falling fully into creativity and dream. Ignore the mistakes. That's for future you to handle.
I've officially rambled far too much, but I hope that helps even a little bit. Live well and write often, my friends. Best of luck to you <3
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What your favorite Hermit says about you! (In the style of Blake Jennings)
DISCLAIMER: THIS IS ALL IN GOOD FUN AND JEST. NONE OF THESE ARE TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY. Also all of these are based mostly on vibes and minimally on research. If you wanna check out the guy whose videos inspired this post, you can click here.
WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY, ONTO THE SHAMING!
BdoubleO100: Chronic scratcher. You've never thrown a proper punch in your life but my god you've turned multiple people's arms into segmented paper after they looked at you funny.
Cubfan135: It's low-hanging fruit to say you're the most neurodivergent person in any room you enter. It's high-hanging fruit to say you're the neurodivergent who spends uncomfortable amounts of time in games like The Sims or People Playground perfecting your handmade torture chambers and killing machines.
DocM77: Horny jail. Your W.I.Ps would get you flogged by a priest in the town square, and there's a non-zero chance you'd actually be into that.
Ethoslab: A majority of the time, you're relatively normal passing. But the times you aren't you are a magnitude 10 quirkquake. This is both an insult and a compliment.
Falsesymmetry: Ah, perfectionists. You poor lot are masters at getting stuck in the "wanting things to be perfect vs knowing you don't have enough skill to make it perfect" loop which leads you into doing nothing and then developing depression.
Geminitay: Out of every hermit fanbase, Gem mains are the ones I believe most when they say they'd kill and die for their hermit. Like everyone else you can just go "haha funny! I am also a fan of hyperbolic humour" but with Gemboys you're not quite sure if bestie is joking or admitting to premeditated assault.
Grian: I get the feeling that you are the type of person who, when asked what you want to eat, will say "I'm fine with anything!" but you'll get genuinely frustrated if they pick something you didn't want.
GoodtimeswithScar: You guys are the embodiment of the bed of nails vs one nail phenomenon. The most traumatic thing could happen to you and you're like "eh" but if a stranger called you mid you would start sobbing.
Hypnotizd: WHERE ARE YOU?! What kind of dark, hidden discord servers do you people hide in??? Hypno mains are like the goddamn Higgs-Boson, finding evidence of one existing in public is damn near impossible but you MUST EXIST or there would be a fundamental error in the fabric of the universe. I can't even poke fun at you because I CANNOT FIND YOU.
iJevin: I'm guessing Vulture Culture is very important to you. If it's not, it's only a matter of time until it will be.
ImpulseSV: You, like him, are a cavalcade of undiagnosed mental disorders that you don't feel like getting treated. Really, the only difference between you and him is the fact that you are a lesbian.
Joe Hills: Your right-wing older relatives call you a woke leftist and your cousins call you a weirdo. What no one will call you is a maladaptive daydreamer because you've at least got the sense to keep that to yourself at family reunions.
Keralis: *sigh* Daddy kink. And that's all the descriptive words you deserve because you are neither slick nor subtle with it.
MumboJumbo: He is babygirl. You want to be babygirl. You are not babygirl. You're sitting on your throne of bones and this man is the bunny you pet while you watch the heroes lose to you in children's card games.
PearlescentMoon: Hello art kids! Specifically, art kids who could not have a normal student-teacher relationship with art teachers. There was at least one art teacher in your life who either adored you or hated your guts and which one you got completely depended on how neurodivergent YOU were and how neurodivergent THEY were. (This includes all forms of art)
Rendog: People who are most likely to be turned into bangmaids by their boyfriend/girlfriend. Look, it's completely okay that you like your partners a little bit cringe and pathetic and dumb, but remember that weaponized incompetence is not sexy!
Skizzleman: You have daddy issues, or you have intimacy issues. You could even have both. Whatever you have, you NEED to seek therapy because he cannot fix you.
Smallishbeans (Joel): You're the type of person who's kinda obsessed with the idea of biting people as a show of affection. Which is unfortunate because associating that behavior with a brunette British man historically hasn't ended well.
TangoTek: Oh my god, PICK A STRUGGLE. Are you addicted to having 500 problems at once and 65% of them are self-inflicted? I can't think of any other reason you'd do these things to yourself because it's not like you ENJOY this, you meet every single battle with the disposition of a SOAKED CAT.
VintageBeef: I know you'd lose ALL self-respect if you met a man (or woman) like Beef in a bar or club. Like, biblical levels of self-disrespect. You'd lose all morals, all convictions, everything you've ever known about the world and yourself, just for a chance. I don't know if it's admirable or really, really sad.
Welsknight: Oof, how's that religious trauma treating you? If you were brought up in a non-religious environment, swap this out with that emptiness you feel when you realize you will never be able to truly convince yourself to believe in any faith, even if you want to.
xBCrafted: Hey diva, how's your mid-to-late 20s going? Still having a crisis over being able to drink fewer and fewer glasses of wine without feeling like death in the morning? Oh, you're not in your mid-to-late 20s? Damn, you've probably been called an old soul your entire life, and I'm not sure you've realized yet that it's not a good thing.
Xisumavoid: It's hard to pick on you guys because you already have it hard enough, so let me give you some advice instead. DO NOT DATE THAT TRADWIFE/TATER TOT YOU'RE CHECKING OUT. I know the temptation is there but YOU CANNOT FIX THEM. THEY WILL RUIN YOUR LIFE.
Zedaph: You could not explain your gender identity to your cishet family members if you tried. Honestly, you couldn't explain it to your fellow gays either. You have ascended to gender beyond most people's imagination.
ZombieCleo: You have a thing for authority, don't you? You want nothing more than for a person higher up the food chain to tell you straight up what to do at all times so you don't have to navigate the minefield that is small talk with people you don't know.
And that's all of them! Thank you for reading through this project of mine! If the comment under your favorite hermit doesn't fit you, feel free to write your own in the tags or something. Or yell at me for being stupid and dumb and bad and knowing nothing about you. We love free will and attention here at the Eluminium Tumblr blog.
#hermitcraft#hermitblr#bdoubleo100#cubfan135#docm77#ethoslab#falsesymmetry#geminitay#goodtimeswithscar#grian#hypnotizd#ijevin#impulsesv#joe hills#keralis#mumbo jumbo#pearlescentmoon#rendog#skizzleman#smallishbeans#tangotek#vintagebeef#welsknight#xbcrafted#xisumavoid#zedaph#zombiecleo#my writing#holy moly the amount of tags
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I hate that you can't see a tweet thread anymore if you're not logged into Twitter (as a gesture of disrespect I refuse to call it by its rebranded name). Here is a copypasta of a thread from Dan Olson, a Canadian documentary filmmaker, expanding upon camera quality, the guilt trips Somerton used to goose his Patreon subscriptions, and how the best tools will never make up for lack of dedication or patience. I have added clarifications in [[double brackets]] where I feel it is necessary.
START OF THREAD
Okay, so, back in April I snapped at James in reply to a tweet that was linking to this video (which James has since delisted but not deleted) and I want to talk about the full context of that but I don't want to make a video, put your beatdown memes away. [[The video has since been deleted. I can see the title of the video is "Maybe the end (not an April Fool's Day thing".]]
The first bit of context is that I initially got keyed into James to fact-check his claims about indie filmmaking in Canada. As a filmmaker the entire Telos venture was immediately obvious as a juvenile fantasy dreamed up by someone with no idea how to make a movie.
Just wild claims about their plans that weren't worth debunking because they bordered Not Even Wrong. But in watching one of these pitch videos I noticed that he had a $4000 current-gen camera in the background as a prop, and that seemed both pretentious and weird.
You don't use your best camera as a prop, you use your second best camera as a prop. So being an obsessive weirdo I needed to know, and I watched his BTS stuff until I spotted his main rig, a $6000 camera with about $1000 in accessories.
Now, these in isolation are unremarkable because his Patreon at the time was bringing in ~$8000 per month, his channel was a full on Business business, and so investing in some professional equipment of that level is maybe a bit indulgent but justifiable.
What was weird is that he doesn't shoot multi-cam, doesn't shoot outdoors, doesn't shoot on location, and in a studio the two cameras kinda really step on each others' toes. Basically if you already have one and don't need a B cam there's no reason to get the other.
Again, on its own, this says nothing, it's just indicative of poor financial decisions, maybe impulsive purchasing, Gear Acquisition Syndrome. Biblical sins, but not crimes.
Paired with the constantly inflating fantasy scope of the Telos films it was clearly an expression of a very, very common bad filmmaker habit of "if I just get the right gear then my movie will basically make itself" Buying stuff because it feels like progress.
At the end of February he tweets "I want to start shooting anamorphic" and then three weeks later in March he posts the worst, out of focus, under-exposed "I just got a new lens!" video I've ever seen, showing off his trash-covered bedroom.
Based on what's available for his cameras and the lead time, that's enough time to get a Laowa Nanomorph or Sirui Saturn from B&H but not enough time to get a Great Joy from the UK or a Vazen from China. And with the flaring blah blah blah, $1300 lens.
Again, [gear acquisition syndrome] is not a crime and these lenses are budget options. Bit of a pointless impulse purchase since he only used it for the Showgirls video. But this is what he was doing just a few weeks before that above video came out: effortlessly impulse purchasing lenses.
James has (had?) a habit of regularly, aggressively driving viewers to Patreon by claiming that videos were getting demonetized. While tacky, it is something a lot of queer YouTubers have dealt with, so there's precedent there. But people were noticing he did it a lot.
Mid-March he humble brags about needing to work so hard to make 6 videos in April because he has over-booked sponsorships.
Then March 29th James posts this whole incel screed on Twitter about how sex work should be "subsidized as a mental health service."
[two image descriptions.
1. "For the majority of people sex (and human contact) can be imperative to a healthy state of mind. A kind and talented sex worker can make someone feel wanted for the first time in their life. I know sex workers who have pulled people back from suicide just by being there for them." 2. "Not only should (sex work) be legal, but it should be subsidized as a mental health service."]
He spends several days getting absolutely *roasted* for this, just dragged across the pavement and read for filth, and doubles down in the replies the whole way.
So this is the context immediately surrounding James waking up on Friday, and posts the above video and the below tweet.
[image description: "We just got the lowest Patreon payout we've gotten in well over a year. Like, a "maybe we need to rethink things" kind of amount... NOT an April Fools Day thing btw. But I don't know if we'll be making videos much longer."]
Now, this unfolds in kinda two directions. The first is that I'm convinced he was just lying about this income shock in the first place.
There's a million theoretical edge cases about what maybe happened and if maybe he just misunderstood the data or saw a glitch and panicked, maybe one of those happened, I don't believe it, I think he just lied because he was salty about getting dragged and felt owed a win.
A big tell to me is that he doesn't blame Patreon. He says he doesn't know what happened, but let's be real, Patreon screws up all the time, they're the first people anyone blames if anything confusing happens, just as a reflex action, even if it's completely not their fault.
The only reason to not blame Patreon is if you already know that it's not their fault and that any investigation on their part might reveal embarrassing details.
Instead he indirectly blames his viewers for not watching enough, not sharing enough, and not turning on auto-renew.
So regardless of the unknowable truth, this segues into the second, far more offensive direction of the messaging itself. "I don't know if we'll be making videos much longer." "Maybe the end" He explicitly framed this as an immediate existential threat to his channel.
In the video he is vague about everything, leaves a ton of hazy room for plausible deniability on how long the channel can keep going, but the messaging is "I need more patrons right this minute or my YouTube channel is over."
He repeatedly evokes all the "fun stuff" they had planned that would never see the light of day if this didn't turn around right away.
And his audience received this message loud and clear. Tons of people making far, far, far less than him left very heartfelt messages about digging a little deeper to subscribe or up their pledge or unsubscribe from other channels to move their pledge to his.
1200 new patrons in one day.
Since I simply don't believe the income shock was real in the first place that would put his post-"Maybe the end" Patreon income at around $10,000 per month. US. Add YouTube income, he's spent the last seven months making around $18,000 per month.
I have seen creators scale back their capabilities to the bone purely to keep making videos for the love of just, like, making stuff even as their funding evaporated and they needed to go back to a desk job to cover their bills.
You'd have to be so outstandingly reckless with your finances as a channel that a one month spook leads immediately to "channel over, sorry about all the fun stuff we won't get to do with you, our patrons, specifically because you, our patrons, aren't giving us enough money"
And not a spook where you then spend a couple weeks crunching numbers. Oh no. A shock so violent where less than two hours later you're weeping on camera about the channel being over.
Three weeks later he brought a brand new Sony FX6v for $8000 CAD to add to his pile of cinema cameras despite the fact that he was, but scant moments earlier, in such a precarious position that a single bad month would kill his channel.
He stole your money, and for that I'm profoundly sad and angry. That's why I snapped at him in April. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the full context then, and I'm sorry if that anger upset you.
END OF THREAD
#james somerton#dan olson#hbomberguy#jesus christ tumblr#it won't let me format things the way i want#because this website is sometimes a piece of shit
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safe - skz x 9th member!reader
pairing: ot8!skz x 9th member!reader
summary: skz helps you out when you're struggling with burnout and bad habits.
genre: fluff, idol! au, very angsty, descriptions of eating disorders, destructive habits, mentions of blood, fainting, throwing up (nothing graphic), reader is struggling with lots of thoughts, fluffy ending. read at your own risk.
a/n: i felt like it was time to write something that hits a little closer to home... hopefully it helps some of you out. my dms are always open to talk if you need it, and if you ever feel like reader does, please know that things do get better <3 divider by @iluvrei
The lights are too bright.
You blink harshly, trying to clear your vision of tears. Glancing across, you check to see if the boys have noticed anything. They haven't, too focused on the video of the choreography. They're all dripping with sweat, hair mussed, brows furrowed in concentration, and so are you, but you just can't focus right.
Not even if you tried. Because you can't do anything right.
Minho hums and notes down a couple things before signalling to start the choreography again. You move into your position and place a hand on Jisung's shoulder as you all fan out. The music blasts and leaves high-pitched ringing noises in your ears as you dance.
A hollow pang thuds dully in your stomach but you ignore it, instead focusing on copying Hyunjin's moves and moving into the next part of the song. By this point, you've forgotten the choreography and you want nothing more than to just sit down.
Focus, Y/n. Ignore it.
But you can't, too focused on just staying upright and keeping up with the rest of the boys. Even Felix, who tends to get tired the easiest, is dancing at full power, his eyes fixed on the mirror, adjusting and executing with perfect precision. The sight of it makes you feel even more run down and your temples throb when you stand back up into position for the main chorus.
Your energy finally runs out halfway through the choreo and you simply drop to your knees, hitting them hard on the polished floor. A chorus of groans sound out as Jeongin jogs to the speaker to stop the music.
"Y/n," Hyunjin groans, hands on his knees. Sweat drips from his hair. "We were almost finished, now we have to start again-"
He's cut off as a panting Chan waves his hand dismissively. "Take a break, guys. You okay, Y/nnie?"
You nod tiredly and look down at the floor, trying hard not to cry. That awful sour feeling takes a firm hold on your jaw and you gulp, like there's something stuck in your throat. The rest of the boys pay you no mind, chattering and bickering as they take swigs from water bottles and flick sweat from their hair.
Concert practice has been more than tiring, to say the least. Despite the tiredness and fatigue hanging in the air, the boys seem reasonably cheerful; pushing through with smiles on their faces. But being the youngest member of Stray Kids, there's only so much you can take on before it gets too much. You don't remember the last time you slept for more than four hours or ate a proper meal.
So while the others begin to move back into position, you stay on your hands and knees on the floor, gasping for air and feeling that terrible hollow pang gnaw at the lining of your stomach. A headache settles firmly between your eyes and your vision blurs, and it takes all your strength to even breathe.
Don't cry, you tell yourself harshly.
By now, Chan is kneeling beside you, a hand on your back. He knows how hard you've been working, especially since you just joined the production side of things, and he whispers a few reassuring phrases before standing up and offering you a hand.
Your eyes follow him as he rises from the floor, and a sudden burst of irritation shoots through you like lightning. Swatting his hand away and then immediately feeling terrible and selfish for it, you stand and brush yourself off, walking away without a word.
Chan stares after you just as Felix walks up.
"Is she okay?" The younger boy whispers.
Chan shrugs, brows furrowing in concern. "I don't know, Lix. I think she's just stressed with all the concert preparation."
"I mean," Felix begins as the music starts to play again, "She is the youngest of us. Maybe it's getting too much for her, hyung."
Maybe, Chan thinks as he moves into his position, watching as you do the same.
.
The rest of the day is uneventful; you spend most of it running between photoshoots, vocal lessons, rehearsals, and dress fittings for the upcoming concerts. It's all a blur, and by the time you open the door to the Minsung dorm, you're exhausted.
Minho and Jisung are already back from practice, since you'd opted to stay longer to perfect the choreo. Your body had been against it but you pushed through anyway, and you're beginning to slightly regret it as you almost stumble while shutting the door behind yourself.
Minho is in the kitchen, chopping something up; Jisung is lounging on the couch, watching something on his phone. The air smells rich and meaty, and normally you'd sneak into the kitchen for a taste of whatever Minho is preparing, but the singular thought of it makes you feel tense and nauseous.
You opt to grab only a new bottle of water before heading to your room. Minho looks up in surprise; he had been preparing to fight off a nosy, hungry Y/n, but you walk straight past him without even a hello. You do the same to Jisung and shut your bedroom door quietly, sinking down against it without a word.
You feel terrible about ignoring them; after all, they're your friends, but you just don't have it in you today to talk. Or dance or sing, or do anything at all. Everything feels dull and grey save for the hot tears that begin to soak the damp, musky fabric of your shirt.
Deciding to shower, you pick yourself up from the floor after a while and move sluggishly to the bathroom. You scrub until your skin is red and tingling and pull harshly at your hair while brushing it out before slipping on the first clothes you see in the drawer; a hoodie and sweats, all black.
Collapsing onto your bed, you open your phone and immediately regret it; the blue glare makes your head throb so harshly that you have to fight to urge to lean over the bed and throw up. You cover your mouth just in case, though there isn't even anything in your stomach to warrant the action anyway. You take a weak swing of water as a remedy and collapse back into the pillows, feeling exhausted but not tired enough to sleep.
Your stomach rumbles and you think briefly about sneaking into the kitchen after Minho and Jisung have gone to sleep, but you hold yourself back and roll over, gritting your teeth. Someone knocks on the door.
"Y/nnie!" Jisung calls from the other side of the door. "Come and eat something."
You ignore him, hoping that he'll think you've fallen asleep. You check the time; it's definitely late enough for that to be true. You wait with bated breath until you hear footsteps walking away.
You stomach growls more insistently and you press a disapproving hand over it, quieting the pangs as you turn over to try and sleep.
You can go one more day.
.
The next morning, you wake up early and decide to head to practice before Minho and Jisung can keep you back and make you eat something. You know for sure they've noticed the change in your eating habits, so you take a plate and break up a piece of toast, sprinkling crumbs so it looks like you've eaten. You throw the bread into the bin and leave your plate on the table before leaving.
Opening the door to the dance studio, you notice Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Seungmin all up early too, rehearsing the choreo, messing about, or talking. Or, in Hyunjin's case, all three. You duck to the side and head to the opposite side of the room, as far away from Chan as possible.
Him being here isn't good; you know for sure, after how exhausted you were yesterday, he'll try and check in with you. And it wouldn't be hard for him to decipher what's been happening; the pale pallor of your face, the bones of your wrists more prominent than before, and of course the constant sluggishness, fatigue, and dizziness that you've forced yourself to endure for the past few days.
You busy yourself with unnecessarily reorganizing the items in your bag, trying to ignore how bright the lights are. It feels like a spotlight.
"Hi, Y/n."
You look up to see Jeongin standing next to you, smiling in a white shirt and basketball shorts. His hair is ruffled, and somewhere in the cold, dead depths of your hardly-beating heart, you realise it's because the boys have been messing it up with their constant affection of the maknae. The thought makes you feel nothing. You are numb.
You don't reply, instead giving him a curt nod and picking up your waterbottle. You walk and place it on the cabinets against the back wall just as the others filter into the room. Jeongin shrugs and decides to leave you alone, apparently unbothered by your lack of response. Maybe he thought you were just tired.
Good, you think grimly. I don't want him to notice, nor do I care if he does. Just leave me alone.
Your eyes flicker to Jisung and Minho as they move to put their belongings down. Jisung immediately goes off to mess with Felix, who is still sleepily waddling across the floorboards to Changbin. You look away, but not before your eyes catch Minho's. He locks his gaze with you and raises a pointed eyebrow, silently questioning.
You look away quickly, gritting your teeth so hard you swear you can taste blood. Your heart jerks and starts, sending a racing thud reverberating through the hollow shell of your body.
He knows. He knows. He knows.
You see him begin to move towards you in your peripheral and you exhale when Chan claps his hands, moving to start the practice. Despite how much your head hurts, and the fact that you can hardly see let alone dance, you're grateful for the interruption, and dedicate your entire focus to the choreography.
Minho eyes you during a slower part of the routine but you don't look at him. Or anyone. The most you do is glance at Seungmin to check if he's placed where he needs to be before you move past him to the middle. Your vision deteriorates and drowns into dizzy black spots with every movement, but you push on.
Your head pulses dully with an aching pain and there's simply no energy left in your body. You grit your teeth and keep going, trying to will strength from within.
I can last til the end of the choreo. Just a little longer-
You exhale sharply and suddenly then, as if you've been punched hard in the gut. Your vision clouds over completely and you briefly panic as you can't see anything, but you find your limbs still moving. The last thing you know before you pass out is the feeling of the cold, polished floor against your cheek, a dull thud against your head, and a panicked yell from one of the members.
You close your eyes.
.
"Y/n. Y/nnie, wake up..."
"Is she okay?"
"Did anyone see what happened?"
"Y/n!"
Groggily, you open your eyes, and immediately hiss from the glare of the bright white lights above you. You're lying on the floor, where you dizzily remember yourself falling. You try and weakly lift a hand to cover your eyes, until Chan's head and broad shoulders moves into view above you, blocking it completely.
You exhale a small sigh of relief, even though the swimming black dots in your vision are making it hard for you to see anything at all. Your head throbs even worse than before; you must have hit it before you fell and passed out.
Even through all of that, you can see the look on Chan's face; half concern, the other half an equal mix of affection and sternness. You can't do anything but let out a weak groan as someone kneels down next to you, pressing something cold to the back of your neck.
"Take it easy," you hear Changbin saying from above you. You feel a pair of strong arms lift you to a sitting position and the movement makes a swelling pang of dizziness shoot through your skull like hot lightning. You feel sick and feverish.
"Y/n," you hear Chan saying through the haze. "What happened?"
You can't hold back the tears from spilling down your cheeks, however dehydrated you are. They just keep coming and someone else wipes them away with a gentle brush of fingers.
This is your fault. You can't even keep up with them and now you're wasting their time by making them take care of you. Way to go, Y/n. Absolutely pathetic.
That same rush of irritation shoots through you again and you push Changbin's hands away from your shoulders. "Leave me alone."
He looks surprised but backs off anyway. Your vision clears momentarily and it's then that you notice all of the boys are standing around you, most of them in various stages of concern and confusion. You notice Felix tightly clutching Hyunjin's hand in worry, Jisung biting at his lip. Jeongin looks upset too, and even Seungmin has the decency to look mildly put out.
"Why aren't any of you dancing?" You say, confused.
"Because," Hyunjin puffs out dramatically, "One of our members decided to die in the middle of the choreography."
Ignoring the younger's comment, Chan places a gentle hand on your thigh. "Y/nnie, please talk to us. We're all worried. What happened?"
You scoff weakly and push Chan's hand away too, even though his warm, solid touch is comforting. He pulls back, looking mildly hurt, and you instantly kick yourself for it. It's Chan. Why did you have to go and do that?
"Nothing," you say. "I'm fine."
He lets out an exasperated groan and there are a few protests from the rest of the group. "Y/n, you literally collapsed on us. And you don't look well at all. Have you been sleeping lately?"
"Yes." Lie.
"Have you been pushing yourself too hard?"
"No." Lie.
"When was the last time you ate something?"
"This morning." Also a lie.
"We're not dumb, Y/n," Minho interrupts from where he's crouching near you. "I mean, we are sometimes, but we're not clueless, especially when it comes to you. Please let us in."
I can't.
"Okay," you whisper weakly, because you don't have the energy to argue. You feel so incredibly embarrassed and humiliated.
Chan sighs and hands you a bottle of water. You take a swig before putting it down.
"Practice is off, everyone," he says. "Let's regroup tomorrow. Good work."
"What are you doing?" You say on an exhale.
"Taking you home," he says firmly. "There's no way you're going to keep practicing after this. You need to rest and eat well for a while before you can join back in."
Your heart thuds hollowly in your chest. "But-"
"No buts. Please, Y/n. It's okay if you're not doing well, and we don't have to talk about it if you aren't ready, but we're not going to stand by and let you suffer like this, yeah?"
"Plus," Felix adds softly as he sits down next to you, "It's no fun when you're not around, so hurry and get better so you can join in again."
You look to Chan, defeated tears welling up in your eyes. You spot the slightest waver in his expression, but it remains firm and he helps you stand shakily to your feet without a word.
Minho walks over just as Jisung folds you into his arms, kissing the crown of your head.
"I'm sorry," you whimper to no one in particular.
"Shh, it's okay," Minho says, "Let's just get you back home and then you can rest, okay?"
You nod and let them lead you out the door.
.
The tangy fruitiness of the juice sends little bursts of flavour down your throat, and you sip a little more before placing the glass on your bedside table. You're looking out the window, though the curtains are drawn, and your hair is a mess, having slept ruffled against the pillow for around three hours now. The sun is beginning to set.
Jisung comes into the room, followed by Chan. You look towards them and sit a little higher up on the pillows as Jisung smooths a hand over your forehead.
"How are you feeling, Y/n?" Chan asks carefully as he sits on the bed.
"Better," you say quietly, even though certain thoughts still linger in the back of your mind.
"It's good that you slept a while," he continues. "Looked like you needed it."
"Yeah."
The room is silent for a while, and Jisung lies down next to you, his face pressed into your thigh. He lets out a muffled happy sound just as Minho comes into your room, holding a tray of soup.
He sets it down on the bedside table along with a banana, a glass of water, and a small packet of your favourite sweets before shamelessly flopping down onto the bed, making himself comfortable. Chan sighs before his hand reaches out to cover yours, which is picking at the blanket.
"Y/n," he says softly. "It's okay if you're struggling."
You shake your head, though what you're disagreeing with, you're not sure.
"It's okay," Chan says again. "It can be a lot, I know. And it's completely alright if you just need to take a break, yeah? That's allowed. But please don't punish yourself for it. You do so well and work so hard, and I know it feels wrong when you don't shine as much as you want to."
You stay silent, the sorrow beginning to weigh down on you again.
"Y/nnie," Chan says gently. "You can talk to us, okay? If you're struggling to take care of yourself, or if it's all just getting too much, come to us. We're all in the same boat."
"More like stuck with us in the same boat," Minho snickers from his position on top of Jisung.
Chan slaps the boy's thigh without taking his gaze off you. Ignoring Minho's whine of pain, he leans forward and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. The simple gesture is so gentle and reassuring that tears well up in your eyes again, and you thank your stars that Jisung has plenty of electrolyte drinks in the kitchen because of how dehydrated you're becoming because of the crying.
"I'm sorry," you whisper.
"It's okay, Y/n," Jisung hums from your thigh. "We all have bad days."
"Just please, please come to us if you're not doing well, okay?" Chan says. "We all love you very much, and none of us want you to be struggling alone."
As if the universe has magically decided to prove his point, the door flies open and Hyunjin and Seungmin crash onto the floor, followed by a giggling Jeongin and Felix. Changbin stands disapprovingly behind them.
Chan presses two fingers to the bridge of his nose. "For goodness' sake."
But his words are drowned out by the mad scramble of the boys clambering onto your bed, heaping themselves on top of you in a mess of bickering, singing, and arguing.
Felix presses his cheek to yours. "I missed you."
You exhale a tiny laugh. "I wasn't even gone a day, Felix."
"I know," he replies earnestly. "But I missed you anyway. I wanted more than anything for you to be okay."
"Me too," Jeongin interrupts indignantly.
"Yeah, me too," Changbin adds matter-of-factly as he makes himself comfy on top of a squashed Hyunjin.
"Say you wanted her to be okay too, Seungmin!" Jisung pokes him hard in the ribs.
All you get in response is a begrudging nod and it makes the rest of the group burst out into laughter. Even Chan can't fight a fond smile.
And even if you're not doing well at the moment, you know in that moment that the rest of the members will always be there to fall back on, and the thought makes you relax, finally, your mind quieting and replacing the hollow feeling in your heart with a solid, steady warmth.
You are safe.
a/n: this was was longer than i anticipated
#skz#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#straykids ninth member#skz ninth member#skz 9th member reader#skz fluff#skz angst#straykids imagines#stray kids#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#skz ninth member imagines#stray kids 9th member#skz 9th member#skz scenarios#skz imagines#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x y/n#skz fic#skz fics#stray kids fics#stray kids fic#hyunjin fic#han jisung x reader#seo changbin x reader#jeongin x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#hyunjin x reader
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Hey so, a lot of folks in the Marble Hornets fandom are varying shades of new to it, and so didn't experience it coming out unfortunately, but apparently there used to be a marblehornets website that has been down since 2016, and I actually didn't know about it but my friend (@straycalamities) did and found it on the Wayback Machine.
I bring this up because while the images on the website are mostly broken now, it actually holds some really fascinating information on the characters that I have never seen talked about, like some of their majors in college!!
I am going to post snippets (as screenshots would get fucked up on mobile) and talk about them a little, but check it out here if you're curious.
Starting from the top and most passionate, we have Alex Kralie's description.
Director / Writer / Editor / Actor Alex Kralie, born April 4th 1986, has been into making films since his early childhood, when he would make short sketch comedy videos starring himself and his cousins with his parents camcorder. He would then show them at “premieres” to his friends and family. That love has since remained with Alex, where he has been involved in many different capacities in various filmmaking communities. He is a double major in both filmmaking and photography, with a minor in theatre. He originally wrote Marble Hornets during high school and has continuously tweaked and polished it throughout his time at the university. He’s very excited to finally see it all happening after years of work!
Likes: Film, Directing, Art, my dog rocky. Dislikes: Fakery, creative bankruptcy, passionless people, 9 to 5 jobs, unambitiousness, bad movies and film.
Wow, ain't that a breath of fresh air? A BIRTH YEAR! In a slenderverse series! In a youtube horror series, honestly! You never see it.
Alex's description is by far the longest and most passionate, a fact which kind of kills me knowing what he becomes. Working on a project he started in highschool, if there is anything Alex is, I suppose it is dedicated, all devoted to idea he gets in his head which he just can't seem to shake, huh?
Finally though we have a major for our tragedian! Two majors! And a minor! Sorry but I am genuinely so enthused about this. This paragraph really knocks home what I have always said about how Alex thinks, with his confidence and slight pretentious nature with a genuine passion and undertone of insecurity—and through the lens of him talking about himself! Wow.
But moving on to the lead, Brian Thomas!
Actor Brian has been attending the university for three years, and is hoping to graduate after his next couple of semesters with a Bachelor’s degree in psychology and a minor in video production. He originally met Alex in Dr. Warren’s cinematography class where they collaborated on quite a few projects together. He’s very happy to be making his acting debut in Marble Hornets!
Depending on who you think wrote these, this description could be really funny. BUT WOW A CANONIZED WAY THESE CHARACTERS MET. I feel like I have won the lottery. Anyone else?
That is a really fascinating combination of major and minor too, [WHICH WE NOW HAVE FOR HIM, WOAH,] it really makes you wonder what Brian is doing though, and where his direction in life is, if he even knows. Its such a short and sweet and direct description, it is equal parts charming while hiding something under its surface you can't quite place and might even slip from your attention, which feels very emblematic of this character.
I'll leave you to read Sarah Reid and Tim Wright's bios on your own, but I want to point out that at the bottom of the page, there are two people who don't have them.
Both Seth Wilson and Jay Merrick are marked with a "coming soon" notice, with Seth listed as Camera/Co-Editor and Jay listened as... nothing. He is just slapped on there because. Why?
Probably because Alex wanted him there because he is his friend, but it is interesting to point out. Jay as I said before is a passive (though not meek) character, especially at the start of the series, and this just reminds me of that. He is here, but quiet and observing, not helping really as he trails after Alex because he is his friend, because they have a connection, because Alex can't imagine not having him here.
Food for thought :-)
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Sonofcelluloid’s Top 30(ish) Favorite Devil’s Minion Fics:
In no particular order, this list only includes finished works that are relatively canon compliant (I’ll be making separate lists for AUs and fics in progress.) Anything in italics is a direct quote from the fic or its description. Please remember to check tags and ratings before reading.
You’ll Always Be My Favorite Ghost by lestatslestits: Tales of Armand’s turbo autism as Daniel gets to know and love him. This one is so sweet and had me laughing my ass off.
outcast of all this night by gaypiratedivorce: Modern Devil’s Minion fic of all time. Rewired my brain. "I mean, I don't know how you guys did it in Renaissance Italy, but most people this century get to at least second base before wearing each other's blood around our necks." There’s a part 2: my aid against the boredom of the eternal where they finally hook up. And honestly every fic from this author is a banger.
I’d Break the Back of Love for You by kurow: 70s Armandaniel. A rescue and a sick fic wrapped in one, and I’m a sucker for both.
Like That by GrayGiantess: Fluffy 70s Armandaniel. A tooth achingly sweet first kiss fic, featuring Twinkie’s. Again, every fic from this author is a banger.
The Beginning is the End is the Beginning by trinityofone: Daniel sees a wild vision during his turning. “I deserve this,” Armand said. His hold on Daniel’s throat was almost a caress. “After what I’ve been through, I deserve something of my own, don’t I?”
make a home from a rented house by sleepdeprivedsurgeon: Daniel realizes Armand has never really had a room of his own before. Armand slowly builds his own safe place. Super fluffy autistic Armand stuff. Domestic vampire polycule bonus.
the spiral is unspooling by reedroad: Armand helps Daniel recover their Devil’s Minion years via old video tapes they filmed of their meetings. Absolutely heart wrenching and wonderful and charming and had some of the most jaw dropping plot twists I’ve ever experienced in a DM fic. The last chapter absolutely floored me and rewired my brain forever. May be my #1 fav.
forever’s gonna start tonight by trinityofone: Hate fucking with a happy ending:) Sort of a soulmate fic as well. “I fucking hate you. And you hate me. So something is making us do this.” “I don’t hate you,” Armand pants. “You mean nothing to me. Don't stop.”
care and keeping by katplanet: A surprisingly tender guide for how to step on your boyfriend. Bonus Danlou. Smutty and fluffy and freakayyy. GREAT dialogue. Very funny as well.
hell is: by cannibalenthusiast: Another turning fic. Post Dubai blowout, Armand and Daniel bond over martinis, breakups, and a Survivor marathon. They bang about it. Great ending.
5 Times Daniel Molloy Imagined Killing Marius de Romanus (+1 Time He Actually Did It) by platoapproved: This one is genuinely a masterpiece. Probably my #2 fav. Lots of protective Daniel, some really cool and original vampire-lore stuff, Louis and Lestat being beautifully supportive along with other new side characters. Armand finally gets to process his abuse among allies. A really touching Lestat subplot as well. HEAVY trigger warnings for all Marius related assaults, but obviously we get to watch him die horribly to make up for it:) Absolute banger of an ending, totally sticks the landing.
lesson three: parasitic infections by kanxie: 70s Armandaniel. Armand picks out Alice as a third and does NOT like the way the night progresses. What unfolds is some of the CRAZIEST psychosexual (emphasis on psycho) gremlin Armand shit I’ve ever seen in a fic. So perfectly Armand. Short and sweet, sad ending.
open up your skull, i’ll be there by Anonymous: First time fic. Armand dipped after Daniel’s turning and when he shows up again Daniel ain’t letting him leave. “Your blood is my blood,” Daniel says, and Armand does not flinch. “It’s your blood getting me hard. Your blood that’s pumping through me.” Armand licks his lips, and still doesn’t move. “Please. Armand, Armand, please.” “Beg for it.” “I am begging for it, this is what begging looks like —”
Disintegration by lilacaisle: Daniel goes crazy when Armand locks him in the apartment and tries to burn himself with a cigarette so it will feel like being bitten🙈 Armand does BDSM about it. This one’s actually book Armandaniel but I didn’t notice it until like the third read because it fits show Armandaniel so perfectly.
baby, cry baby by Babeblox: Daniel seeks out Lestat for an interview after Louis’ attack, but he’s being haunted by someone else. Canon divergence. This one legit made me cry. Dark but very sweet. Wild ending.
get in my mind (do you see my heart?) by Marenke: 70s Armandaniel, Armand character study. Armand is pretty sure he and Daniel have never had a problem a little brainwashing couldn’t fix. SICK AND TWISTEDDDDD (affectionate).
The Importance of Being Armand by Siria: Daniel and Armand talk about the power of naming. "If you can imagine a different set of possibilities for me as a vampire, ever think of what you could come up with for yourself, if you put your mind to it?"
Bumpin' That (Bumpin' That Bumpin' That Bumpin' That) by TheAngelsAreWatching: Daniel and Lestat are fuck buddies. They are on a tour bus a la Word Tour. They do coke. They try to bang. And then Armand stops time and walks in. Armandaniel fuck crazy style. Pure filth (affectionate).
Run, Arun! by TheNightColors: Autistic Armand, character study. Daniel learns it was considered a “crime” to turn Armand due to his “mental retardation”. Armand explains what it was like to be an autistic child in the sixteenth century, and an autistic adult for 500 years after. Heavy stuff. Trigger warning for all things relating to Amadeo’s past and for the internalized ableism instilled in Armand by his upbringing.
a haunting just for company by valkyrisms: Post Dubai blowout but pre Daniel’s turning, Armand crashes on Daniel’s couch. A modern Devil’s Minion fic for the ages. These weirdos love each other so bad. Some really memorable tender scenes. This one’s a fan favorite. “You’re fond of me.” “You’re a nuisance.”
The Company of Monsters by ruiqi: A full deconstruction of Marius’ abuse from Armand’s pov as he struggles to keep old patterns from repeating with Daniel. Overall I think this is the most realistic depiction of what it would be like for Armand to come to terms with his abuse in the modern day, especially regarding Daniel’s involvement. He’s totally out of his depth but wants so badly to help. This one made me SOB. It’s honestly a really tough read, but beautifully done. “You said, last night, that he wanted an angel,” says Daniel, “but no one's an angel, Armand. That wasn't fair to you. Besides, who would want an angel when they could have you?” “No,” Armand says. “No, you can’t say that.” “You can’t fucking stop me,” says Daniel. And it isn’t tagged, but this one is incredible autistic Armand representation. Probably my #3 fav.
Smart Boy by heliza24: Just a really good 70s Devil’s Minion era explanation of the events leading up to Armand’s decision to take Daniel’s memories away. Quite a bit of infidelity stuff in this one. Also delves a lot into Daniel’s family history, and an emotional affair is established between them long before they actually hook up. Very emotional. Heartbreaking last chapter.
We Dared Eternity and Won by faerywhimsy: A 70s Devil’s Minion era telling of the four good years they had before everything imploded. Louis has somewhat of a distant obsession with Daniel in this and so is very involved in Armand’s decisions regarding him. Favorite scene is when Armand saves Daniel from a hotel fire and the near loss devastates him because it makes him realize he’s in love with Daniel.
reprise. by SheOfBadIdeas: In Dubai, Daniel demands Armand show him the memories he stole. Armand relays the tale of their romance, but Daniel is begrudged to give Armand the satisfaction of giving in to it. That doesn’t last long;)
Waiting by bandedbulbussnarfblat: 70s fic. Daniel is living with Alice and hasn’t seen Armand in two months. He gets a call from Armand, who just got a proposal from Marius asking him to be his companion again. “I told him I couldn't go back. That I was waiting for you.” Daniel sucks in a sharp breath. Fuck. Armand's voice sounds almost wet, strained and raspy. He finally sounds as vulnerable as Daniel always wanted to see him be. “Should I keep waiting for you, Daniel?” (It’s just banger after banger with this author too.)
The Monster of my Memories by GrayGiantess: In Dubai, Daniel has just remembered his relationship with Armand and he’s PISSED. Armand gladly reminds him he’s waited 40 years for Daniel, he doesn’t mind waiting a little while more, and he’s not so sure Daniel has the same conviction🙈 Phenomenal subby old man Daniel material.
Delicate Machinery by Lilac Tinsel: An in depth look at the 70s love affair that neither man ever saw coming, in all its complicated glory. Really dives into the psychological consequences of Armand’s constant rejections. Amazing take on what the actual memory alteration would look like. The part that broke me: “I’m sorry for– for all of it. I didn’t realize how much I took. I just… wanted to stop thinking for a moment.” Armand blinks slowly and his eyebrows knit together. His voice is small but steady. “Did you take the drugs so you wouldn’t feel me anymore?”
You Taste Like Suburbia by CannibalGender: This is the only unfinished work I’m putting on this list because it’s so fucking good as is and gave me chills when I read it. It’s the 80s, Armand, famously normal about his partners' families, haunts the Molloys. I absolutely love Alice in this. Paints such an intriguing picture of what these years might have looked like from an “outside” pov.
Two parter I’ll chew you up and I’ll spit you out and Oh dear diary, I met a boy by weathermood: Loumandaniel in Dubai, set just after the season 1 finale. Asks, what if Daniel doesn’t want to remember? An exploration of identity while Louis and Armand try to persuade Daniel to allow his memories of their past relationship to be restored. Explores dreams and memories beautifully and with delightful humor. Classic unhinged Armand.
138 lbs, for the metrically challenged by hummingbeeoOo: Fluffy and funny. After Daniel’s turning and subsequent hunting down of his maker, they’re shacked up and happier than ever, but a little something from the interview has kept nagging at Daniel. Or: there is exactly zero way a beanpole like Armand weighed a measly 62.5 kilograms a day in his adult life. The end of this fic had me kicking my feet and giggling. This whole series is great tbh.
This list is my pride and joy. Thank you to the anon who asked for recs<3 Feel free to share your own favorites in the reblogs:)
#devil’s minion#armandaniel#armand x daniel#interview with the vampire#iwtv#fic#fanfic#fic rec#ao3#archive of our own#words
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IT tech reader x poly 141
Chapter four (Unedited)
a/n: hey yallllllll, so i'm going to be going through and editing the chapters that I have put out. There will hopefully be a few more, and then I'll post moments from this story that you can request.
18+ MDNI!!
Cw: afab reader, inaccurate military descriptions, female anatomy and pronouns, dry humping, talk of shooting and weapon handling, minor angst, mentions of teammate death
…
The weeks after your first training session with task force 141 was nothing short of exhausting.
The almost daily training sessions were hard on your body, between your morning exercise and you being thrown around during sparring the soreness was bone deep. The nightly work on the servers and helping John with paperwork, sleep was also something you don't see very often.
The nightmares of your last deployment made sure of that.
But what was truly exhausting was the thick heavy blanket of sexual tension that won't let up, no matter how many times you've tried to find some relief.
The heated hands on your sweaty body during sparring, the eyes you can feel creep up your neck, the thought of them being together just down the hall.
You've tried to keep it down, as your relationship with Soap and Gaz has grown to being friends, and you didn't want to mess that up. You and Soap started lifting together having a competitive edge which left you guys sore for days to come.
You bonded to Kyle quick as you both shared interest in coding and video games. On nights there was nothing to be done you found yourself in the common room yelling at each other while playing COD.
Ghost took time sparring you personally, he told you that you need to be able to fend off anyone bigger than you if you were ever alone.
John is someone you look up to, helping you with settling into your new role.
You tried to keep your mind in check reminding you that these men were in a relationship together, but fuck that was hard.
Sighing, you locked your computer and began the now familiar walk to John's office. Rapping your knuckles on the door before hearing him beckon you inside.
Peeking through the door before smiling at him, “Hi, Captain.” Striding over and taking a seat on the dark leather couch on the wall of his office. Making yourself comfortable in your usual spot on the couch.
“Told you, love, call me John.” He said turning his chair to look at you, giving you access to the welcome sight of him leaning back with a cigar hanging from his lip.
The handsome lazy look in his eye, smoke billowing around his head with the lamp light behind him took your breath away. He looked heavenly. The spread of his thick thighs looked like the perfect seat.
Clearing your throat and hoping he didnt catch on your shameless eye fucking of him, “M’sorry Ca- John, hows paperwork?” You asked, fixing your mistake, pulling your legs up and hugging them to your chest.
He always noticed no matter how comfortable you were getting with him and his team you had a habit of making yourself as small as possible, almost trying to be hidden, a hand wrapped around your scarred shoulder. It was a tell that John hadn't been able to stop thinking about, which was worse after he read your file and got information about how you obtained the scar.
“Taxing as always, got more coming soon-” He said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, after putting the cigar out on the dirty ashtray that lived on his desk.
“We're heading out for an operation in two days, gotta go help get some intel. I want you on the op.” Feeling excitement and anxiousness, you sat forward hanging on every word.
“Are you alright with that?” He asked, tilting his head, showing concern for how you were feeling in the group.
“Of course, John, anything the team needs.” You nodded.
He felt his chest warm at your eagerness to prove yourself to him and his boys.
“I've read your file, I know how your last operation went before you moved to IT.” He watched as some of the light left your eyes, seeming to stare right through him, “Are you still with me, love?”
The tone of his voice brought you out of your staring, running a shaky hand through your hair, then to rest on the scar around your shoulder, the reminder of what happened always seemed to set the skin on fire.
All you could think about was the bright smile of your teammate, Cowboy, you lost three years ago, on an infiltrate operation.
The compound was supposed to be lightly guarded that night, but once you breached it was guns blazing. You guys almost made it to getting evac, but once entering the office that you needed to pull apart for information, four men with machetes surprised you.
Shooting two before one dug his machete over your shoulder and back, the other stabbing Cowboy through the chest. Back up arriving before the men could finish you off, your partner wasn't so lucky.
All of that due to a mishap with intel, something that you vowed not to let happen again, transferring to the IT department as soon as you were back to work.
You felt the couch dip next to you as John's warm thigh pressed against your hip.
Warm tears clung to your lash line, begging to fall over.
“Hey-” he grabbed your chin between his rough fingers bringing your gaze up to meet his, “S’alright, I just needed to know if you need more time or not, I don't want to rush into it, you can sleep on it. The briefing is at 0600 tomorrow.”
You felt the warmth of his breath on your face, the addicting smell of the cigar and his woody oak smell wrapping its warm embrace around you.
Your eyes met his light blue eyes, a tear broke through running down your cheek.
John's hand met your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the fresh trail that the tear left, his eyebrows furrowing. The warmth of his palm sunk into you, instinctually leaning your face into the feeling of his skin.
“I'm okay, it's not something I like to think about.” You sniffled out, trying to contain the wobble of your bottom lip.
“I know, if you want to sit out you can, Gaz knows enough to get the intel. Might not be as smart as you are with the computers, but we can manage.” He said, his hand unmoving, keeping your eyes on him.
Not that you wanted to or could look away, you were too entranced in how warm his presence is.
“I can do it.” You said, noting the unsure look on his face.
“I promise I'm okay to do it-” you said, leaning forward, feeling determined.
As you leaned toward John he could feel his resolve slip, the way the light warmed your skin, highlighting the rosy tint to your cheeks. He couldn't deny his attraction to you, the easy going and quiet nature was something he admired.
He knew his partners felt the same way. Soap couldn't have hid it if he tried, everytime he came back from your now joined lifting session, he pounced on anyone in his path.
Gaz sported a sweet smile on his face when he was in bed talking to his captain about how you beat him in an intense match, giggling as he swore you cheated.
Ghost would never say it out loud but John knew the look he was giving you as you got better in sparring. The quiet man was hard to please, but you were trying your best. And he could tell.
His eyes fell looking at your plush lips, then back up to your eyes. The hesitation was slipping away after your smell filled his nose and the smooth feel of your skin.
Your wet eyelashes parted wider as John closed the gap in between you and enveloped your lips in a soft kiss. The pretty gasp you let out went straight down to his half hard cock.
Your fingers gripped the front of his shirt, unintentionally pulling him closer.
After a moment, John pulled away gazing into your wide eyes, feeling your warm breath on his face. He trailed a burning hand from your cheek to your shoulder prepared to push away and apologize for his actions.
That was before your lust clouded mind convinced you to pounce.
He felt your hand push him back to lean on the arm of the couch. He watched as you perched yourself on his wide lap like you were made to be there, feeling the heat of your core flowing over his lap he groaned.
The deep sound from his chest vibrated through your bones as you dove back in eagerly, biting at his lower lip. Opening his mouth allowing both of your tongues to explore each other. His rough hands trailed down your sides before they found a home on your plush hips.
The rough pads dug into your skin, anchoring your willing body to his. A hand running up to tangle its way into your hair, he yanked back exposing the skin of your throat. He ran his tongue up from the peak of your shoulder up to your jaw.
Your hands found their way to rest on his shoulders, digging in until your nails left crescent indents in his skin.
He pulled you down to provide friction you both so desperately needed.
The sweet hiccuping moan you let out was mirrored by John as you felt the thick cock underneath you. John's beard was scratching against your wet mouth so deliciously.
As the kiss heated up, John's hand slipped underneath your shirt feeling the skin of your tummy and running up to cup your breast. Running his thumb over the pierced skin of your nipple, groaning as he pinched it between his fingers making your body jolt.. He bit at your ear, letting you hear his heavy breath.
As you ran a hand through his hair, you started to rock on his lap, the fog in your brain finding it hard to stop. Wanting nothing more than to let all of them have their way.
“Just like that, take what you need.” His words sink in as you move faster, becoming more erratic as your body heats up.
“Good girl.” he chuckled deep and dark, pulling you down to meet his lips again.
A sharp loud knock startled you as you jumped off of John, heaving as you tried to catch your breath.
The sobering sound knocked some sense into you, as you realized what was happening.
“Fuck, im so sorry Captain.” You said rushing towards the door.
“Love dont-” He tried to catch you before you ripped the door open, almost running into a surprised Ghost. Pushing passed him, John sighed as he watched you scurry toward the barracks.
Ghost watched you run away before looking back confused at his lover. Taking in the kiss swollen lips, and crumpled clothes he put two and two together quickly.
“Think ya scared ‘er” The deep voice of Ghost filled the now silent room, pushing the door closed as he entered. John sat back down on the couch where your warmth and smell still lingered.
His head hung low as he rubbed the skin of his neck.
Ghost came and stood in front of him.
“I feel like a goddamn teenager, Si.” He said, finally looking up at him.
“Maybe bringing another person onboard was a mistake-” John shook his head, chuckling dryly, knowing that Ghost was blowing smoke. He had the same feelings around you as he did.
“Don't start. You forget that I know you well, love.” he shook his head, Ghost rolled his eyes before dropping himself next to the older man.
He started picking at the stitching on one of the pillows on the couch, suddenly finding it more interesting than the conversation on hand.
“She’s under your skin now too, under all of our skin.” John spoke, telling Simon what he already knows. He ran a hand over Ghost's knee pulling his attention back to him.
“I know. Soap won't shut up about ‘er” He smirked.
“Nor Kyle, filthy mutts the lot of us.” John sighed.
“We're taking her on an assignment with us, we leave in two days.” John rubbed his forehead leaning back, “The briefing is at 0600, hopefully I didnt fuck anything up too bad,”
Ghost nodded before leaning back to snuggle onto John's shoulder, looking up with a suggestive glint in his eye, “We should head to bed then.”
John nodded.
…
Sleep again was not something that was easy for you to obtain that night. All you could think about was the kiss you shared with the Captain. Shame settling deep in your mind. How are you even supposed to look at him in the morning? You felt like you've ruined everything.
How would the other guys react?
You think they'd be mad, or maybe they would ask for your immediate resignation from the team.
All you could do is wallow in the heavy feelings while staring up at the gray ceiling until your alarm goes off.
Dragging yourself to get ready, deciding to avoid everyone as much as you could, you got ready for a run instead of the joint lifting session you had with Soap.
Shoving your headphones in you walked towards the outside entrance to the training courses. Showing your badge to the man at the door, the sky was still dark and gloomy as it has been the past few days.
You turned up the volume before you started the run, deciding to go out past the track and towards the wide forest that surrounded the perimeter. Hoping the run would distract you from the turmoil in your head.
It didn't. Before you knew it, you were already deep in the woods out of breath against a tree. Looking down at your watch you cursed, you've lost track of time. You only had fifteen minutes to get back before the meeting started, you'd have to run straight there without getting ready.
You took off, your feet hitting the pavement hard as you raced time to get there in time. Out of breath you gave your badge back to the man at the door before sprinting down the halls until you made it outside of the meeting room.
Busting through the doors before bending down with your hands on your knees trying to calm your breathing.
Looking up you find the eyes of the team looking at you concerned and confused, “Was someone chasing you?” Gaz asked, his handsome face furrowed at you. All eyes were on you. John was wondering the same thing as you were the first one at the meeting getting the presentation started.
Panting, “No- just lost track of time during my run, my apologies, Captain.” You said avoiding the concerned look in his eyes, you wiped off some sweat from your forehead and headed to the empty seat by Soap.
“No worries, love.” He said, eyeing the purple bags under your eyes.
As you sit down, Soap leans over, “Skipping lifting for cardio?” He grins.
You gave a half smile that did not reach your eyes, and nodded before looking up at John. Leaving Soap even more confused as you would have just asked him to join you for the run.
“The mission is an infiltrate and obtain mission.” John began pointing at the screen as a picture of a man popped up on screen, “This is Antonio Gutierez, he is said to have intel about nuclear assets.”
Everyone took note of how the muscular dark skinned man looked.
“This is a joint op with Los Vaqueros”
“He's having a party coming up, which we will be sending you in, you'll have a member of their team with you,” The boys didn't like this idea, you've finally started to get used to them and they wanted to be there in case something happens.
Soap stood up looking upset but before he got a word in, John cut him off, “We will be right outside of the compound if they need backup support.” The look on his face told Soap that he also didn't feel comfortable with this but Laswell was the superior officer that made the plan.
“So what is my cover?” You asked, the look of determination clear.
“You're Jenny Amana, wife of Rafael Amana.” He said handing over a manilla folder, you opened it and found your identification and passport.
“Were wheels up tonight at 1800, the party is tomorrow at 2000.” The team nodded as John continued to brief the team on the specs of the job.
Coming to an end he dismissed everyone as they exited, Soap sent a long look in your direction when Price asked you to stay behind. When everyone filed out of the door, John took a seat next to you.
“Are you sure you're comfortable with the job?” He asked, his thick brows knitting themselves together.
You leaned back to give him more space so as to not cross any boundaries, remembering last night. He frowned
“Yes, Captain. I have off duty clothes that will work for this.” You said, fiddling with your fingers so you could avoid eye contact.
John shook his head, “Kate has a kit in Mexico for you, the dress code is quite extravagant.”
You nodded before feeling the air of the room turn heavy with the uncomfortable silence.
“I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night.” He said. Simple words were enough to knock the wind out of you. Finally looking up to see him gazing at you.
“I should be the one apologizing, I should have never done that. You're my captain and you're in relationship’s, I don't want to come between that.” You said, shaking your head as the shame tugs at you, “I understand if you want me to step down from my position.”
Sighing out, he ran a hand down his face and through his beard.
“I don't want you to leave, didn't want you to leave last night.” He said, placing a hand on yours to stop you from picking at your nails.
“You're not upset?” You asked, confusion clearly pulling at your face.
“Far from it, doll.” The sweet small smile he gave you warmed his war worn face, running a finger over the apple of your cheek. Reminding you of the night before. His praises and dominating actions still had your skin buzzing.
“How-” He cut you off before you could go any farther with a small kiss to your forehead.
“We’ll talk after the operation, go pack up and have some down time.” The tone of his voice left no room for argument. Starring deep in eachothers eyes you gave a slow nod as you pushed up from the chair.
You gave him a glance before pulling the door open and heading to your barracks.
…
Packing and trying to have down time was hard when your mind was racing. All of the thoughts about the men on the other side of the hall.
You tried to occupy your mind before the plane ride, making sure you had everything you needed.
You walked to the bathroom to grab toiletries, when the light illuminated the sterile bathroom you looked at the picture you stuck to the mirror. Two sets of happy gleaming eyes look back at you.
It was a younger you, hair not quite as long, eyes that shone so bright even as mud caked your body with the arm of your teammate around your shoulders. It was a picture that was taken of you and Andre a couple weeks before his death. His dark skin was dirty from the particularly muddy obstacle course you both had just run.
You smiled sadly at it, caressing it as the memories of him flew in your mind.
How he took you in when assigned to his unit, helping you find your feet in the hard reality of the marines, never letting you fall deep into the pits of PTSD and depression.
You giggled remembering the story of how he earned the call sign Cowboy. While on a mission in the USA he was found staying up all night watching old reruns of westerns, speaking the lingo he picked up from them over comms.
You remembered him introducing you to his wife, Ella, over a video call, the warm smile of the woman over the screen made you feel comfortable instantly.
She had invited you to come and stay with them during the long breaks, the breaks that you had nowhere to go, no family to go home to. They turned into home, staying up with Ella as she braided her hair as you both listened to music together.
She had just broken the news about their pregnancy before we went back into deployment. As soon as he found out he put in papers to be discharged, refusing to be away from his family during the growth of his baby.
He didn't make it to meet his baby.
The survivors' guilt wouldnt allow you to look Ella in the eyes, knowing that it should have been her husband that made it back. Not you.
You felt your legs shake before sinking to the cold tile floor clutching the photo securely to your chest. Your vision blurred as the tears flowed freely down your skin.
Join the marines they said, it'll be fun they said.
…
As 1800 quickly approached you loaded the gear into the military airplane along with the boys, you could feel their eyes on your puffy eyes and flushed skin.
The plane was quiet as the team started buckling in, the hum of the engines beginning to get louder before the door closed. Looking across the plane seeing Price, Soap, and Gaz getting comfortable in preparation for the long flight. Soap wrapped his arm behind the two men on either side of him, smiling at something Gaz said to him.
Ghost sat to your right, choosing to buckle in right next to you even with the open space next to him, you were too tired to care. You felt eyes on the side of your face, looking over to meet his, you gave a silent nod.
Before you knew it the plane was on the runway gearing up to take flight, the bounce in your leg grew faster as the feelings of being exhausted and anxious battled against each other. As the plane started to gain speed, a cool hand reached over and gripped your thigh, seeming to dwarf the muscle, quieting the tapping of your foot.
Looking back up gazing at the sharp hooded eyes. He looked down where his gloves hand was connected to the taught muscle of your thigh, the fat of your thigh slightly pillowing over his large fingers.
Your breath quickened as the plane took air, his hand unmoving until the plane was settled in the sky. He looked away reading the file that was on his other side. Clearly ignoring the bulge of your eyes and the gape of your mouth.
You composed yourself, feeling your eyes dry and droop as the nights of no sleep caught up with you.
…
About six hours into the flight, most of them were asleep including you. Ghost and John awake, making sure every detail of the plan was correct and accurate.
Simon swore his hand still warmed from where it touched your thigh. Making it hard to focus. He laid his head back, turning it to the left, running grey eyes over the soft skin of your throat. The veins in your neck were out due to the odd posture. Eyes dilating at the small movements of your pulse.
Grinding his teeth together at the idea of biting the sensitive flesh.
When your head tilts and a small whimper makes its way to his ears he sits forward slowly. The furrow of your brow was enough to tell him that the dream you were having wasn't pleasant. He didn't want to startle you out of your sleep, deciding it was better to grab your hand. Applying enough pressure so your nervous system could focus on something else.
It was enough to stop the whimpering as you leaned slightly towards his warm body. John chuckled at him.
…
“C’mon birdie, we're here.” Gaz’s voice pulled you from the less than comfortable feeling in your body. You realize your head was slightly leaning on the lieutenant's shoulder.
You pulled away muttering a small apology to him. The plane was still in air but slowly coming closer to the ground as details on the ground were much easier to see. You hang your head to rub at the stiff muscles in your neck, groaning as you feel some relief.
The plane hit the pavement of the runway, the bustling army base was in full action. Recruits were running around the strip on the dusty ground. Pilots were checking their air crafts and filling their fuels. The plane stopped. Slowly lowering the hanger door as you unbuckled. The boys stood in front of you, walking down to the ground.
“Alejandro!” Soap yelled, as he and a tall man joined each other in a brotherly hug. The handsome man's face cracked into a wide grin, greeting the familiar team.
The sun had just come up, lighting the whole airstrip in a pretty orange color.
“Amigos! S’good to have you back in the city of souls.” He said before seeing you tucked in the back behind the taller men, he moved through them to present you with a welcoming hand. The beard on his face was clean and neatly trimmed, same with the cut of his hair.
“So youre the new soldier, I'm Alejandro, I'm the leader of los vaqueros.” Your hand embraced him as you smiled at him, introducing yourself, “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Just Alejandro is fine, amiga-” He said before turning back to the group, “Follow me, we got you set up in a hangar over here.”
Walking into the aircraft free hangar, taking in the small kitchen to your left and the makeshift common room to your right. They were worn in leather couches surrounding a TV, you saw five cots set up behind the TV, tucked together too close for comfort.
They already had food prepared and waiting for your arrival. The scent of meat filled the air, your stomach growled excited to eat something different.
Everyone went and threw their gear on the cots already grabbing the end beds, leaving you on the one between Ghost and Gaz, silently cursing yourself for not getting there sooner.
Soap was already running over to the food and loading up a plate full of meat and veggies, shoving a full fork in his mouth and chewing loud while Alejandro starts speaking.
“Jesus Soap, the food’s not gonna run away.” He laughs, watching Soap shrug his shoulders and shovel another full fork full of food into his already puffed up cheeks. Ghost rolled his eyes and smacked the back of his head.
Soap sputtered trying to regain his breath as you guys laughed at him.
Everyone sat on the couches, besides a female officer who stood at the entrance of the hangar, a few members of Los Vaqueros filed in to take seats leaving no seats for you. As Gaz started to stand to offer you a spot, you started to sink to the floor in front of him and Soap. Before you could be fully seated two strong arms hauled you off of the floor, bringing you to sit in between Soap and Gaz.
The guys were talking amongst themselves so they couldn't see the flustered look on your face, because of the lack of space on the couch you were practically sitting on both Gaz and Soap’s laps. Gaz had an arm over the back of the couch running a hand over Soaps shoulder, the rubbing of his hand caused his warm hand to run over the top of your shoulder.
Soaps arm locked around your waist, the warmth of his hairy arms sinking in your shirt and to your skin. The plate is on his other leg, he was looking to his Captain and Alejandro continued to shovel food in his mouth, acting as if sitting you on his lap was completely normal.
Wiggling against the hold on your waist, Kyle moved his hand around your shoulder to keep you in place. In the midst of you squirming your ass rubbed against his crotch, if he was able to make it through this briefing he needed you to be still.
Accepting your fate you leaned against Kyle's chest, too tired to argue, your legs curled into Soap's thigh as the meeting began.
It was mainly just covering all of the details you already knew.
“There is a hill on the west of the compound, that's where we will set up in case of a hot extraction.” Alejandro said,pointing to the map that was on the TV, “I will be going under Rafael Amana, with my ‘wife’ Jenny Amana.” He gestured at you, nodding at him.
The arm around your waist tightened as Soap stopped shoving food down his throat, the look in his eye was dark. It was a new look to you, compared to the happy expression he almost always has on his face.
“You're going to go with Officer Saldana to get ready, you need to be wired up, and you'll be running through your cover with her.” You nodded, looking at the pretty officer waiting for you to come with her. Greeting her with a small nod.
You sat up pushing out of Soaps hold, feeling his finger tips linger on your hip as long as he could. All eyes of your team watched you go with dark gazes, feeling possessive after having you all to themselves. You rounded the corner of the building giving them a quick backwards glance before you were out of their sight.
…
Time passed by as you and Officer Saldana started to get to work, she and another female officer hovered around you helping with your hair and make up while quizzing you on the cover.
“Who are you?” She asked, her face merely inches from yours as she was fiddling with your eyeshadow.
“Im Jenny Amana, my husband and I, Jorge, are investors from Jalisco. We've been married for three years, celebrating our fourth anniversary in two months.” She nodded, sitting back to admire her work as the other officer, Linda, brushed through your hair.
“You need to claim the room, women from these lifestyles are proud. Treat Alejandro like he is yours, hang off of him. Even when you think no one is looking.” You nodded, thinking it'd be easy with the amount of sexual tension you had in you..
“You speak spanish, correct?” You nodded once more, her hand coming up to blend at your smokey shadow.
“Only speak to men when spoken too, introduce yourself to the women. Try to overhear any gossip, the wives have loose lips.” Linda said behind you, her fingers running through your hair made your scalp tingle.
“Got it.”
“So, which one are you dating?” Saldana asks, smirking at your bulging eyes, “None of them.” you insisted.
“Dont lie, they all looked like they would kill for a bite of you. Plus you were practically lying over top of two of them.” Linda gasps at the piece of gossip, coming around to face you.
“Are more than one of them yours?” You felt the heat over your neck as they prodded, they giggled as they watched your reaction. You smiled at them shaking your head.
You missed the feminine energy of having lady teammates, they go through the same things as you, it's easier to connect.
“Okay, okay you don't have to tell-” She chuckled with Linda, “The dress is in the bathroom.” You got up and headed into the small military bathroom that you suddenly felt out of place in.
Looking in the mirror at the great job these women have done. You almost didn't recognize yourself.
Your hair was pinned into a low bun, soft waves framing your face. Smokey makeup makes your eyes look lusty and sharp.
It's been a while since you've felt this pretty.
Looking over to the dress bag that was hanging off of the towel rack, unzipping it your jaw fell open. You probably couldn't have afforded something like this even with your life savings.
The silk black fabric was soft like butter under your rough hands, as you picked it up. Reeling as you noticed it had no back.
You opened the door, seeing the girls looking back at you expectantly.
“How do you even put this on?”
They looked back at each other laughing, Saldana got up and entered the bathroom.
She helped you dress, admiring her work.
“Are you sure this is appropriate?” Suddenly feeling shy, the dress was fully open all the way past your lower back.
“Yes, wear it with pride. Like the dress was made for you.” She said, grabbing your shoulders.
“Now let's get you wired up.”
…
The team began to place their gear on, Alejandro joined them already in his perfectly tailored suit. The gold metal pieces decorating his sleeves and wrist, complimenting his bronze skin.
Outside the hangar two black SUVs waited, under the pink glaze of the sunset.
“Don’ like this, cap.” Johnny said, he felt trigger happy just with the thought of you going into the compound, surrounded by bad men.
“None of us do. This is an order sent down by Laswell.” He sighed adjusting his hat, “Can't be helped.”
They loaded the gear into the back of one of the cars, now just waiting for you to get moving to the target. They talked amongst themselves, Ghost triple checking the ammo and gear, coping with the same discomfort of sending you in.
“There she is.” Alejandro said, looking over towards the building doors.
All heads snapped to you, unable to speak. Unable to move as the breath was knocked out of the room.
They watched the way you walked as if this was your second nature.
Your dress hugged every curve seamlessly, the material slinking around you grabbing at your waist sinfully. The dress came up over your scarred shoulder, hiding it from prying eyes. Hair pulled up exposing the glowing skin of your collarbone and shoulder.
Your tits sat naturally on your chest, no bra constricting your chest as they bounced against the weight of your steps. Your pierced nipples budding against the fabric, with the slight breeze.
They were entranced.
Heat seared through them as you gave them a small shy smile, before turning to talk to the men who were connecting to the feed of your coms and tracker that were hidden in your earrings and the small pendant that dangled above your breasts.
Ghost wanted to dump a fresh mag into the men as they fussed with the pendant, hands finding their way too close to your tits.
You took a seat at the table typing away on the computer, all of them couldn't take their gaze away from the glowing dewy skin of your back. Gaz almost lost his mind that you were going into a compound looking like that.
“Gaz, c’mere.” You said, looking over your shoulder, he dropped what he was doing and walked over to you. He would never deny a pretty woman, especially you in that dress.
They tried to memorize the way your spine bent before it met your hips, the pretty dimples in your lower back, and the way your skin looked as the light highlighted all the alluring curves.
Gaz stood over your shoulder entrance by how soft your skin looked, “So I got into the compound's camera system, you'll have eyes everywhere-” He nodded watching as your freshly painted hands type.
“Alright comms are up, you're good to go.” The tech called to Alejandro, he nodded before walking over to you. He grabbed your hand pulling you to stand in front of him, and slid a boastful and loud ring on your ring finger. He looked up and nodded, “You ready, wife?”
Hearing a deep noise from Ghost's chest as he appeared over your shoulder, announcing his displeasure at the nickname. Looking over your shoulder, linking a pinky with his gloved one, trying to assure the large man. Alejandro chuckled, knowing he was setting them on edge.
He looked down, eyes dilated from the rich smell coming from you, calming slightly.
You pulled away as Alejandro entered the back of the sleek SUV, he extended a hand helping you up into the vehicle. Ghost raked his eyes over the sight of your back as you bent over, clenching his fists to fight the urge to grab the back of your neck and pull you back to him.
“Be safe.” you said before pulling the door shut, meeting the longing eyes of your team.
…
The team settled into their position on the hill, Ghost setting up his sniper rifle and peering through it. The rest of the team piled around Gaz as he pulled up the live feed from your camera.
“They're ‘ere.” Ghost called out, training his weapon on the SUV as he watched Alejandro step out before offering a hand to you.
He watched the way you switched into a different person, the confident smile and siren like eyes you gave Alejandro as you clutched his arm. He couldn't fight the scowl that was carved into his skin.
“Making contact.” Alejandro leaned in and whispered into the comm in your ear, a deceitful giggle fell from you.
As you made your way, you swayed up the stairs as your ‘husband’ held your hand, helping you. You gave a confident smile to the juiced up guard, standing tall as he began to pat you both down.
As he moved down to feel your legs Alejandro growled, “Watch your hands.” The deep sound in his voice as he spoke in Spanish hurried the man along. As the guard finished with him, he came over and layed a arm low over the skin of your hips.
He pulled you close playing the part of a possessive husband.
Ghost watched, his sniper trained on the back of Alejandro's head trying to keep his finger off of the trigger.
“Fuck this mission.”
…
#john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#task force 141#tf 141 x reader#poly 141
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Welcome everyone, to the Fuck-You-Up Music Bracket - Round 2!!!!!
Ever had a song you can't get out of your head, a song that strips you down to your very being and leaves you with nothing? A song that you project onto your angstiest of blorbos? A song that hits you smack where you live? Or how about a song that you just really enjoy?
Then this is the place for you! We're reopening submissions for a second bracket, to crown a new champion as the ultimate fuck-you-up ballard of tumblr!
Submission Rules
Don't resubmit songs that were in the first bracket. They won't be allowed in. I've put the first bracket under the read more, so you can check before you submit. Unfortunately there is no spreadsheet version, but you can search my blog for the artists of previous rounds
You can resubmit songs that were submitted to the first bracket, but didn't make it in
Submissions for the previous bracket closed on 26th of May 2023. Any music released since then is fair game
Submissions will aim to stay open for a week, but if I get a crazy amount, they will close sooner
Because it took me so long to sort through them last time, I'm aiming to cap submissions at 600, with a bracket size of around approximately 512, but this may change
This probably goes without saying, but don't re-submit the same song multiple times. It makes my job harder, and chances are someone submitted the same song as you already
Songs from movies, musicals, TV shows, video games and other media are allowed!
As are scores and soundtracks and songs without lyrics!
Songs in languages other than English are allowed too!
Songs must be at least remotely fuck-you-up-ish. You must be able to justify its place in the tournament
You can rant about whatever blorbo you project your song onto in your descriptions, it helps me understand your reasoning better :)
Songs created by problematic bands/artists/media are allowed. However, I am not in control of how quickly it might get voted off
Propaganda is allowed and encouraged! No slander though
Submissions close on 14th of February 10:00AM (UK Time)
If there are any problems with the form or other questions, please send me an ask or message
Submissions are now closed
Tagging for visibility
@tournament-announcer @best-tournament-blog-bracket @ao3topshipsbracket @autismswagsummit @besttropeveershowdown @bl-bracket @champsinthemaking @controversial-blorbo-bracket @dysfunctional-family-fight @fandom-march-madness @fictional-gods-tournament @fictional-twink-bracket @gay-disabled-characters-showdown @gimmick-blog-bracket @girlbossmalewifetournament @goverment-agency-bracket @guess-that-ship @haveyouseenthisseries-poll @its-to-the-death @npd-characters-tournament @pokemonbattletournament @princesspoll @quote-tournament @sexiestpodcastcharacter @who-do-i-know-this-man @undertale-ost-tournament @variouspolltournaments @tragic-ships-tournament @do-you-ship-it-polls @midwest-emo-tournament









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⋆₊˚⊹.𖥔 zoom, click, panic ! -> hyuck's group
pussy feens (virgins) !
lee donghyuck is obsessed with anything camera related, no wonder he's a photography major. unfortunately for him it's an expensive hobby for a broke student like himself. he just lost his job at the convenience store cause he was too scared to help a hot girl find flamin' hot cheetos... he's a 24 year old virgin can you really blame him?
women gender studies major mark lee has to be the face of feminism. this may just be a ploy to try and get laid though, not like it's working anyways, the girls think he's gay. he's the dad of the group always making sure his boys are in check, and respecting women like they should. they'd have to actually get near a woman to respect her though...
zhong chenle's head is probably so huge because of how big his brain is, i mean who else is successfully completing an aerospace engineer major? not only is he a super mega nerd but he has an unhealthy obsession with stephen curry... what girl would wanna sleep with that? but who needs girls when you have your best guy friends who also get zero female interactions?
finance bro jung sungchan should have an easy time getting a girl.. right? wrong. he has no rizz whatsoever. but he's pretty popular amongst other men so he gets the guys access to all the biggest parties. parties which they spend all night stuck to one another... maybe they should try splitting up next time...
park jisung is the embodiment of shyness. no one knows how he's the only one in the friend group to have lost his virginity. he's cute and soft spoken... the the public. but when he's with his friend group no one can make him stop talking, certified yapper. and what's worse is that his rants usually consist of stars and planets, blame it on his astronomy major... or was it astrology?
these virgins met on a porn discord chat. they realized that they had the same taste in twitter porn and eventually made their own group chat to share videos. with some time there were less porn links and more personal talk. how sweet a bond forged by naked women and tragic backstories. but don't underestimate them, they'd ride and die for each other.
yn's group -> masterlist -> intro
notes : literally all nerds cause they have nothing else to worry about but keeping their grades up tbh. didn't realize how smutty this smau is gonna be so pls prepare urselves for dirty bad words and descriptions im sorry 😞
taglist : @kimsaerom , @n0hyuck , @nanaxwi , @neverbeurs , @sunghoonsgfreal , @hizhu , @axo-l0tl , @strawberrysavi , @hyuckiebb-blog , @hyucktion , @4yunogf , @jakesbubu , @gacktsa , @iheartjayke , @annoyednblax , @luvvhaechan , @dudekiss3r , @yesohhsehun , @prettybluei , @soobinbunnie5 , @hyucksunset , @the-swageyama-tobiyolo , @byeonwooseokabs , @kodasity , @hyuckmoon , @catdonut657 , @lionzyon , @luvandletter , @defzcl , @nneteyamss , @222brainrot , @1lovejinki , @zzurao , @catpjimin , @multifandomania , @docilismo , @injunnie-lemon , @jeonghansshitester , @babyjenono , @wonswondrland , @livingdoll-hara , @minkyuncutie , @luvsooby
#🐻#nct#nct dream#nct imagines#haechan#nct fluff#nct smau#nct social media au#nct fake texts#nct smut#nct dream smut#nct dream fake texts#nct dream smau#lee haechan#haechan fluff#haechan imagines#haechan smut#haechan social media au#haechan smau#haechan texts#haechan fake texts#lee donghyuck#donghyuck#nct donghyuck
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The Witches Trap
Part 2
Pairing: dark!Wanda Maximoff x f!reader
Warnings: ghosts, description of death, paranormal activity, gore, blood, a bit of horror ig, typical ghost hunting stuff, nothing too scary tho
Words: 5.5k
Summary: you go ghost hunting with Peter, Yelena and Kate. What could go wrong?
A/n: first time trying out some spooky stuff, so bear with me. Heavily inspired by Sam and Coby on YT.
Masterlist
The way Yelena drives is far from smooth and sound, but she vehemently refuses to let Peter behind the wheel, so here you are, yelping and griping the sides of the driver's seat headrest like your life depends on it. You hiss when your head meets the roof, and Kate sends you another toothy smile from the front seat, her eyes flickering to look at Yelena every few minutes. You look to your right to check on Peter, but he is busy fumbling with equipment, his camera carefully stored away in a bag as he keeps checking the microphone.
You sigh and relax against the seat when the road finally smoothes out, and think about why you even agreed to this. Peter asked you to tag along for a new video for his YouTube channel, and by asked you mean begged you with his best puppy eyes and a bag of goodies in his hands. Apparently, if you agreed to go, Kate will go too. And if Kate goes, he won't even have to ask Yelena.
He was right.
So now the four of you are on the way to one of the most haunted places of America - Westview hotel.
"Are you sure this is the right way?" Yelena asks, turning her head left and right.
"Yes," Peter answers, glancing up for a second.
"Honestly, this is too creepy already," Kate mumbles, her eyes locked on the numerous dolls pinned to the trees surrounding the road.
"The owner probably made someone do that. No way they had this type of dolls back in the eighteenth century." You try to reassure Kate as much as yourself.
"Actually, the first doll like that was made-" Peter finally looks up with an excited glint in his eyes, and you immediately press your palm against his mouth, "No. I don't need to know that."
"Ha! Little Y/n is scared," Yelena laughs, but her laughter is cut short when a twig hits the side window, making her shriek like a maniac.
"This never happened," she grumbles when the laughter finally dies out.
Relaxing against the seat you try to remember everything Peter told you about this hotel.
It got notoriously famous in the late eighties, when a high schooler got possessed by a demon and later died in a psych ward. The room the girl stayed in was closed off for twenty years after that. You wonder if Peter managed to book it.
Another thing you remember is numerous sightings of a dark, cloaked figure appearing in most random places, whether it's a supply closet or a presidential suite. It always managed to scare the shit out of anyone who was unfortunate enough to catch its interest. You shudder at the mere thought of encountering that particular entity.
"We're here," Yelena cuts off the ignition, and leans against the wheel to take a look at the building.
Your breath catches in your throat the second your eyes land on the magnificent hotel. At seven stories high it stands proudly on a hill, overlooking the vast grounds. The facade is noticeably worn, but no less majestic - a blend of dark wood and stone, a balcony stretching along its entire length. A dark figure on the corner of the rooftop makes you squint, and you gasp when you realize it's a gargoyle, albeit a very rickety one. You make a note to yourself not to walk under it.
Yelena ushers you along, shuddering as she notices the stone figures. “The air here is kinda thick,” she mutters.
You nod, feeling your chest tighten. She's right - the air grows heavier with each step you take. You hope the hotel itself is ventilated enough.
When you finally step inside you take a deep breath, looking around the foyer and spotting who you presume is the owner.
"Welcome to Westview Hotel! My name's Agatha, I'm the owner of this happy little place and your guide for today. Hope you have the worst time of your life here!" Her voice is too cheerful for the late hours, and you cringe at the full on villainous laugh she lets out.
Peter goes to speak with the woman while the rest of you look around. Yelena plops on the loveseat, her backpack thrown on the carpeted floor near her feet, and Kate just stands beside you with her mouth hanging open - you're sure you're wearing a similar expression.
While the outside of the hotel looked somewhat old and weathered, the inside completely blows you away with its beauty. It's elegant, if a bit eerie, with a grand chandelier and high arches that make the space feel even bigger.
You frown, sensing someone's eyes on you, and notice Peter glancing in your direction every so often. You send him a questioning look, but he only shakes his head, his lips pressed together and his cheeks puffed.
"Do you think he's going to sacrifice one of us to that witch? Scarlet Witch, right?" Yelena muses.
"Yeah, but I don't think you're her type." Kate winks at the blonde.
You snicker at her annoyed expression, and stumble back, accidentally bumping into someone. You turn around, an apology on your tongue, only to choke on your words when you are met with an empty lobby.
Your friends stare at you quizzically, but Agatha seems to be lost in thought, her eyes trained on the space right above your shoulder, then she slightly shakes her head, her lips pressed in a tight line.
"Sorry. I thought I bumped into someone…" You trail off, your back burning, an eerie feeling settling in your stomach.
"Sure thing, buttercup." Agatha winks at you, her mood changed back to normal in an instant.
You shudder, looking back at your friends. Yelena whispers something in Kate's ear that causes the younger one to chuckle, and Peter has his camera pointed at you.
"We already got some paranoid activity ten minutes into the night," he blabbers behind the camera, motioning for you to explain what happened.
"Um... It felt like I bumped into someone?" Talking to a camera is weird, but you manage to explain what you felt. "... I think it was nothing though, just my nerves acting up." You force a chuckle, your eyes moving to meet Agatha's stare.
She moves closer to be in the frame, and tells everyone about how much the Scarlet Witch loves to mess with younger women, her favorite pastime in this hotel seems to be entertaining the ladies. However, her idea of entertainment slightly differs from yours, and you gulp when Agatha mentions her choking sleeping guests and locking them in elevators.
"This is going to be incredible, guys," Peter says to the camera, his excitement too contagious for you to worry about your safety.
×××
The next two hours are spent walking behind Agatha and listening to her stories about various tragic deaths that occured in this hotel over the past hundreds of years. She stops every ten minutes or so in front of different rooms, each story worse than the previous one, and you shudder when she tells you a story of a woman buried alive in one of the walls, Agatha's hand casually resting on said wall.
She is telling you another story about a guy that danced on a ledge to impress a girl and fell on one of the spikes in the lobby, when you suddenly feel a tug in your chest. You stop, checking to see if anyone else felt that. Kate is staring at the ledge with her mouth wide open, Peter's busy filming Agatha and butting in with commentary (much to Agatha's displeasure), and Yelena grips Kate's hand so hard, you are sure she couldn't possibly see anything other than the wall in front of her.
You exhale and look around, trying to spot anything interesting, even though you've been looking at the same set of stairs for the past ten minutes. Strangely enough, you notice a door that surely wasn't there before, because you would've noticed it right away if it was.
While every part of this hotel was renovated, this door looks like it belongs in the past, with heavy iron hinges and a weird looking handle. There are no signs on the door, nor any numbers or words, and when something tugs on your hand, you follow the feeling.
You walk almost in haze, your friends' voices blurred in the background, unfamiliar warmth surrounding you, your chest lighter than it ever was and your mind in a euphoric state. You turn the knob and it gives in, the door rattling loudly as you tug it open, but before you could even glimpse inside, a hand slaps harshly on the wood, the door closing with a loud creak.
You blink owlishly, warmth gone and your head suddenly clear, as you take in Agatha's furious expression.
"It says 'Employees only'," she hisses through gritted teeth, and you step away from the woman.
"No, it doesn't, there's noth-" you choke on your words when you look back at the door, because now it looks like every other door in the room, 'Employees only' written in bold.
You look back at Agatha and apologize, but it seems like she doesn't hear you, her brows furrowed and her eyes flickering between you and the door.
"Okay that's hella creepy," Kate breaks the silence, her unoccupied hand digging in a pocket of her jeans to present a cross. "God will protect us." She puts it around her neck, and nods to herself.
"You don't even believe in God." Yelena jams her in the ribs, not letting go of the brunette's hand.
"You really should," Agatha casually advises, tugging at your elbow to move you further away from the door, "follow me, I'm going to tell you the story of the Scarlet Witch."
You cast one last look at the door and follow her down the hall to the very last room, something warm pressing at the low of your back to lead you. Shuddering at the feeling, you wonder why it is only you who feels something weird. Kate keeps sending you worried looks, but, other than that, she seems okay with Yelena's hand pressed firmly into her side. Peter isn't fazed at all, excitingly recording everything in sight.
Exhaling, you try to relax. If something here wants to harm you it wouldn't use such a gentle approach.
Or maybe it's just luring you in.
When you finally stop in front of room number 208 you feel a poke in your ribs, Yelena nods her head for you to look at Agatha, and you confusedly look up. Apparently, she wants you to open the door. Gulping, you move forward, your hand reaching on its own accord. You turn the doorknob with some hesitation, your hand trembling slightly. When you're met with a sight of a regular hotel room, you let out a quiet breath.
The walls are painted an unassuming beige, with green and brown accents, the earth tones bringing a feeling of calm. The four poster bed is pushed against the farthest wall, with nightstands on either side, and you could already imagine how soft it would feel to sleep in it. But the only thing that truly gets your attention is a floor to ceiling window and a french door, which hopefully leads to a balcony you spotted from the outside.
Agatha walks past you into the room, resting her weight against the foot of the bed. "It was locked," her eyes seem to be glued to yours as she speaks, "second locked door you opened today. I find that… interesting."
You are aware of Peter's camera being shoved right in your face, you're aware of Kate's hand reassuringly clasping your own, aware of Yelena's calming presence, but you are focused on something else entirely. There is this feeling again, now familiar warmth taking root in your chest, almost singing to you. You briefly close your eyes, savoring the sensation, wishing you could feel more.
"This is our most active room," Agatha says, "last year some teenagers decided to use a Ouija board in here and it got even worse. So you're in for a wild ride."
"This is nuts," Kate says from the other side of the room, trailing her hand over the painting of a burning witch.
"Oh, this actually happened here," Agatha drawls, taking note of your surprised faces, "almost a hundred young alleged witches were burnt at the stake here, on these grounds…" Agatha continues on with the story, but your eyes are stuck on Kate, on the other side of the room, your body frozen in shock. You can still feel what you thought was Kate's hand on your own, but with her standing on the other side of the room, and Yelena looking at you like you've grown two heads, you decide it's enough.
"Can you tell them to stop?" you shriek, stepping further into the room.
The warm feeling in your chest intensifies, the ghost of a hand sliding up your arm to settle on your cheek, turning your head to look at the painting. It's so gentle, so soft, it makes you lean your head in search of more.
"Them?" Agatha's voice grounds you. "I believe there's only one witch who is interested in you."
"What's going on?" Kate asks, moving away from the painting. Panic starts to rise in your chest, making you struggle to breathe. "Y/n, are you okay?" Kate's by your side in an instant, hands rubbing your sides, and you lay your head on her shoulder, silently reminding yourself that no ghost can hurt you.
"I thought you were standing beside me, I felt you take my hand, but you were on the other side of the room," you whisper against her shoulder.
"No. We're going back home." Yelena pales and tugs at your elbow, smacking the back of Peter's head with her other arm. "Your idiotic idea is going to give her a heart attack," she hisses and leads you to the door, hurriedly turning the knob.
It doesn't turn.
"What the fuck." She tries to open it again, and again, and again, until Agatha gets pissed and yells at her for trying to break the door.
"If she wants you to stay, you'll stay." She places her palm on the wooden door, and gives everyone a stern look.
"Say the word and I'll break that door open." Peter reappears by your side, looking guilty as ever, his camera now hidden away.
You take a deep breath and look around, now feeling much safer with all of your friends (and Agatha) by your side. The room looks like no one has touched it in years, and the warm, calming feeling in your chest only intensified after your little break down.
Maybe the witch just wants some company.
You meet Peter's eyes and manage a smile. "I survived Yelena's driving, I'm sure I'll be fine after this."
"Are you sure?" Yelena and Peter ask you at the same time.
"Yes, guys, I'm fine. I'm just not used to it like you are," you smile at Peter, and he nods in understanding.
He spent his college years filming in haunted places, a little hobby turned into a full time job as his channel grew bigger and bigger. Usually he invites his friend Wade to film together, but this time he really wanted you to come.
"Glad we settled that. Now sit," Agatha commands.
You take a seat on the bed, Yelena and Kate immediately placing their arms around you. Peter settles in a comfortable looking chair by the window, and Agatha stays standing, clearing her throat before venturing into the story of the Scarlet Witch.
"I'm sure you know that being a redhead, green-eyed, and exceptionally smart young woman in the 17th century meant one thing."
"Barbecue," Yelena mumbles, earning a scathing glare from the older woman.
"Yes. But here's the thing - the Scarlet Witch was never burned at the stake, and not because she was so good at staying hidden, but because she has never had a physical presence in this world, at least one that we know of. There's no proof of her existence, no paintings and no pictures, no sightings either."
Yelena shifts beside you. "Then how do you even know-"
Agatha cuts her off with another scathing glare, before continuing on. "We know because every single one of these poor women cried out her name before their inevitable death. They begged her to save them, but she never did."
"That still doesn't-"
"For the love of god, just shut up and let me finish!" The older woman shrieks, throwing her hands in the air. Momentarily closing her eyes, she clenches her jaw. "She never saved any of these poor girls, feeding on their fear, anger and desperation. She enjoyed what was happening. Hell, she spurged it on, manipulating minds, changing people until they became unrecognizable, and after this hotel was built she took charge, driving owners and residents away, leading people to their inevitable death, and lately possessing unsuspecting women. All of those poor people had one thing to say - 'it was the Scarlet Witch'." She shifts on her feet, turning to look out the window. "Hundreds of years of terror, but there was one good thing she's done. There was a particularly nasty witch trial, the poor girl was accused of seducing a priest's daughter. Imagine the horrors she was bound to be faced with if they got their hands on her. They never did, she escaped their clutches, and every single man involved in the hunt on the girl was brutally murdered. The girl died of old age in the safety of her own home, forever protected by the magic of the Scarlet Witch." Suddenly, her eyes lock on yours. "There's no trace of the Scarlet Witch, but there's a painting of the woman she saved. I'd show it to you, but for you it'll be the same as looking in a mirror, so I'll save myself the trouble."
Peter suddenly sits up straighter, nodding along to Agatha's words.
Kate slides her hand away from your shoulders. "Don't want to make her jealous or anything," she whispers, looking around.
"Do you say this to everyone or..?" You hesitantly speak up.
Her eyes turn serious, causing a chill to run down your spine. "Oh no, buttercup, you're a spitting image of the only woman she deemed worthy enough to save."
"She's not lying," Peter says, "that's actually the reason why I asked you to come." He sends you a sheepish smile, and shows you a picture on his phone. It's an old painting, weathered by time, but undoubtedly beautiful.
The woman looks just like you.
You gulp, your heart hammering in your chest. "Well, I'm not her."
"Maybe not. It's not like it matters." Agatha mumbles, standing up, a faraway look in her eyes. "She must've had her reasons to save the poor girl, and I suspect they were far from noble. Be careful." She looks at you one last time before turning to Peter. "Well, it's been fun entertaining you, but it's nearing midnight, so I'll leave you to your ghost hunting, or whatever it is that you're doing." Her lips purse at the numerous cameras Peter's unloaded from his bag.
"Wait!" You jump up, stalling Agatha. "How do you even know about what happened at the trials? Is there some kind of document?" You're aware of the absurdity of your questions, after all you are the one who experienced all of the activity so far, and while some of it could be blamed on your nerves or your brain playing tricks on you, the door accident still burns at the back of your mind.
"You don't believe me?" Agatha smirks, making you shift uncomfortably. "Don't worry, you'll see, you have a long night ahead." She sends you one last look, and easily opens the door before disappearing behind it.
You fall back on the duvet, pressing your palms against your face. The past hour puts an uncomfortable weight on your chest, and you struggle to wrap your mind around the fact that you're probably going to be targeted even more as the night goes on, either by your terrified, overly anxious mind, or the Scarlet Witch.
The warm feeling you felt when you first stepped into the room slowly disappeared, leaving you to wonder if it's done its job in luring you in.
"Okay, it's time to-"
"We're not using a Ouija board."
"- light up some candles." Peter says, looking quizzically at Yelena. "I'm not stupid, you know." He huffs, rolling his eyes.
You snort, shaking your head at your friends' antics. "Why do we need candles?"
Peter rolls his eyes. "To communicate with ghosts."
"Don't you have some fancy tech for that?"
"I prefer to keep it simple," he shrugs.
You share a look with Yelena. "And we'll be left talking to the AC," you mumble loud enough for Peter to hear and send you a middle finger.
"There's no AC in this room. Some people use flashlights, but I prefer candles. We'll also use a spirit box."
"We're not catching any spirits in a box, right?" You sit up, eyes darting between your friends.
Peter sighs and goes on a rant about his tools, explaining how everything works. To your great relief, you won't have to catch anyone, just put on a blindfold, some noise canceling headphones, and let some spirit talk though one of you.
"Sounds fun," Kate gulps.
"I'm not doing that." You shake your head, crossing your arms.
Peter looks up from the floor, where he adjusts the rem pod, the piece of equipment going off when he touches it with a tip of his finger, calibrating the sensitivity. "Yelena will do that."
It's almost comical how far Yelena's jaw falls. "And why is that, Parker? Why don't you let some spirit use you as a radio?"
"Um… my tarot reader told me you'll do best out of all of us."
Kate starts cackling like a maniac, clutching her stomach and bending over. You can't help laughing either, burrowing your face into the pillow to keep quiet.
Yelena continues arguing with Peter, and you decide to leave them to it and satisfy your curiosity. You smile at the questioning smile Kate sends you, and gesture to the balcony door.
You were right, it is the balcony you saw from the outside, stretching all the way to the other side of the hotel. You sigh and lean against the railing, taking in the view. If you thought it looked terrifying on the way here, it looks even worse from high up. Moonlight shines on crooked trees surrounding the land around the hotel, dark and menacing, broken branches hanging on the last threads. There is a well within walking distance, not too far away from where you parked the car. You swear to yourself you won't let Peter drag you over there, it looks way too creepy.
You finally relax, letting your eyes fall shut for a second, but a blurry movement to your left forced them open. You grip the railing, squinting.
Nothing.
"What the fuck." Kate's voice sounds from the inside, and you rush back just in time to see her exit the adjoined bathroom, snapping the door shut with a terrified look on her face. "No. Oh fuck no. Oh no, no, no."
Peter sits up, alarmed. "What is it?"
"There's blood on the mirror," she whispers, her hands shaking violently, "and in the tub, and on the floor."
Peter immediately gets up, taking the only camera that's been filming the whole time with him. You follow your friend, not paying attention to your shaking hands and your hammering heart.
When the door opens you see a pristine bathroom, so clean it's almost mocking. He inspects every corner from every possible angle, only to come up short.
"Guys?" Kate calls out from behind the door. "Are you good?"
"There's nothing he-" you freeze mid sentence when your eyes land on the mirror.
It's fogged up, one word clearly written.
Your name.
You reach out - not of your own violation, your hand guided by some unseen force - and touch the reflective glass right where your name is. You're hit with a vision, bits and pieces of what feels like distant memory escaping the prison your mind put them in.
You see a wrinkled face of an old man, his expression pure disgust as he spews something right in your face. The scene changes abruptly, and now you're in a dark cell, with only the moon to keep you company. Your heart clenches at the pure anguish you're hit with, the desperation drowning you, leaving you no room to breathe. There's a sudden blur, and everything turns blinding white, and then… you feel that warmth again. A woman stands in front of you, reaching out, her eyes glinting red. She looks ethereal, her skin pale, almost sheer, her unruly hair pushed back by a red tiara. You gulp, feeling the power radiating from her, chest aching with the need to submit to it.
You stumble away from the mirror. There's no warmth in your chest now, only pure, unconcealed dread. You lean against the door, palms pressed to your face. Peter doesn't dare breathe, his hands only shaking slightly as he makes sure to get it in the frame.
"Where did you just go?" He whispers, not daring to speak any louder.
You shake your head, blinking back tears. "Tell me you did this. Tell me it's a prank."
He looks at you, eyes full of fear. He bites on his lower lip, eyes wide. "I did this. I totally did this." He nods rapidly, ushering you out of the room.
Kate and Yelena wait on the other side, each holding a candelabra. You don't even bother to ask where they found them, heading straight to the balcony for a breath of fresh air while Peter explains what happened.
You look at the full moon, rubbing your chest in tight circles.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Again, and again.
The floorboards of the balcony creak, along with the railing, and you wonder if it's all gonna fall to the ground, and bury you in a mess of wood and cement. Maybe that's what the witch wants - for you to stay here forever.
You feel the remains of that need, that hunger for the witch. You long to see her again, even if it's just a glimpse, a whiff of her presence.
When you come back, the lights are off, and Peter is already asking questions, Yelena's terrified expression telling you everything you need to know about the answers they've been provided with.
The candle on the nightstand goes out, and Peter blinks, looking at you. "Weird."
"What?" You ask, looking around, hair on the nape of your neck standing up.
"He asked the ghosts if they wanted us to leave." Kate answers.
"That means they do." Yelena points at the candle.
You shiver, a breeze from the balcony making you curl in on yourself, eyes flickering to every dark corner of the room, flinching whenever you see shadows from the moonlight that look a little too ominous.
Someone is watching you, you're sure. A part of you hopes it's her.
"And why is that weird?" You ask Peter, watching as he collects the candles. You sigh in relief, glad to have missed the conversation.
"I thought they liked us - you - at least," he mumbles.
"Maybe they want us gone so the witch can have some alone time with Y/n." Yelena's brows jump up and down suggestively, and you can't help, but laugh, some of the tension finally seeping away.
That is, until the last candle on the nightstand lights up again, completely on its own.
Peter staggers back, dropping the stack in his hands. "No fucking way," he whispers, "that never happened before."
He pulls back to check the camera, making sure it's still recording.
"That's a yes, right?" Kate gulps, looking at you with wide eyes. "She wants you wants you. It's not a coincidence."
You take a seat on the rocking chair in the corner and close your eyes, reminding yourself that nothing here could ever hurt you. It doesn't really work when you still feel eyes on you. Your hands tremble, and your legs feel too heavy to stand on. Every sound is amplified, your senses going into overdrive, so when a clock stops ticking, you immediately notice.
The clock reads 12:08, the hands still for a moment, before resuming their course.
You're slowly starting to wish you never agreed to come to this place.
Agatha's words ring in your head. What if the witch thinks you're that poor girl? That'll explain the witches' interest in you. Maybe she made you see those visions to help you remember.
But… What if it's not even her that's been following you? What if it's one of the dark entities Agatha told you about? The thought makes you even more uncomfortable - you'd prefer the Scarlet Witch to haunt you instead of some dark, trapped soul, no matter how absurd it sounds.
"Hey," Kate approaches you.
You blink, and offer her a hesitant smile. "Yeah?"
"Are you okay?" She bites on her lip, her hands on your knees.
You nod, and take her hands in yours. "I'm fine. Just a bit shaken up."
She sighs heavily, head falling to rest on your lap. "Same," she mumbles, "I feel like a prey."
You rub her shoulders, hoping to ease some of her tension. "We'll be out of here in the morning."
She looks up, smiling. "Actually, we're not sleeping here. Peter said we'll try to talk to them one last time and then go."
You hum, wondering why the information makes you feel worse. Shouldn't you be relieved to leave earlier?
"Okay, come here," Peter calls, putting noise canceling headphones on Yelena's head.
Kate jumps up, her eyes lightening up at the sight of Yelena sitting rigidly on the chair, a blindfold and headphones in place. "Oh, this is gonna be good," she smiles, settling in front of the blonde.
Peter looks at you. "I think you should ask the questions."
You nod, biting on the inside of your cheek. You think of something appropriate to ask - something that would reveal information without offending any of the spirits here.
"Are we here alone?" You ask, and everyone turns to look at Yelena, awaiting an answer.
Yelena's head bobs up and down, like she's listening to her favorite song, but you know for sure it's just white noise.
"Hello," Yelena says, smiling slightly.
Not alone, then.
You nod, and Peter gestures for you to continue.
"My name is Y/n, what is your name?"
It's quiet for a little while, occasional squeaks from the balcony making you jump up and look around.
When Yelena doesn't answer, Peter decides to speak up. "Did you follow us here from the lobby? Was it you-"
"Shut up," Yelena barks.
Kate stumbles back on the floor, and settles against the foot of the bed. "Oh fuck."
Peter takes a step back, raising his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Sorry." He nods at you, urging you to continue.
"Do you not like him?" You ask.
"In… in the way…" her voice is unsure as she trails off.
"Peter's in the way? In the way of what?" Kate speaks up, looking at you.
"Deal," the blonde whispers, "owe."
Peter frowns. "You made a deal and you owe someone?"
Yelena purses her lips, tilting her head to the side like she can't quite figure out what is being said.
The bathroom door slowly creaks open.
"Are you in the bathroom?" Kate's voice shakes, and you take her hand, shuffling closer to the girl.
"Blood."
You exhale, looking at the open doorway with wide eyes.
Kate nods rapidly, her hand trembling. "There was a lot of blood. You scared the shit out of me."
Yelena chuckles, "Feed."
So whatever is here has been feeding on your fear.
"Who are you?" You ask again.
"You know," Yelena replies. "You all do."
"What's behind that door?" You have the strongest urge to go back there.
Yelena chuckles, shaking her head. “Go see for yourself.”
Light starts flickering, tears spring to your eyes, and you fight the urge to curl into a ball and cry. Yelena turns her head and sits up, leanings towards you.
"You forgot."
"Forgot about what?" You shudder, eyes darting between the door and Yelena.
"Our deal."
Peter darts to the other side of the room and snaps the door to the bathroom shut, his mouth set in a flat line. "We're leaving."
"She can't," Yelena singsongs.
"There's no deal. You're mistaken," Peter snaps, collecting the equipment.
"What deal?" You hesitantly ask.
Lightning strikes outside, a loud boom of thunder following. The painting of the burning witch falls.
"I own y-"
Peter tugs off the headphones, Yelena's mouth snaps shut. She tugs off the blindfold and blinks, brows set in confusion. "Are we gonna start any time soon?"
Kate groans, falling face first to the floor. "Fuck my life."
_______________________
Before you yell at me - yes, there will be a part two
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x female reader#scarlet witch x reader#scarlet witch x you#scarlet witch#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x y/n#scarlet witch x y/n#scarlet witch x female reader
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the hardest part [ZCL] (M)
Description: You, Chenle, and Jay have been best friends since before you could even remember. After moving away to pursue your dreams, you don't talk to them as often as you should. One day, you get a call notifying you of Jay's passing. When you go back to your hometown, you find everything is different except for one person--Chenle.
Genre: (Hurt/Comfort) Smut/Fluff/Angst (please see content warnings)
Content Warnings: death of a close friend, survivor's guilt, lots of what-if scenarios, navigating life without someone you've always had around, mental break downs, panic attacks (not vividly described AS panic attacks), two people coming together to heal from grief, explicit sexual content (unprotected sex, oral sex, mentions of sex, etc. although it's not super crazy so do with that what you will)
Word Count: 16,965
Taglist: @amyjipark @sofix-hc7 @dinosaurtoothbrushwithninjasauce
Permanent Taglist: @sunnybutcloudy @neozon3nha @waffleuvs
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!reader (featuring OC by the name of Jay)
A/N: thank you for 900 followers! :)
Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)

When you got the call, your life fell apart before your eyes. You didn’t believe it. Not at first, anyway, considering things like this don’t happen to people you know. They happen to people you’ve never met.
Tragedies strike everyone. Not only are you not exempt, but nothing will ever shake you more, you’re certain.
Learning of your childhood best friend’s death is not something you expect to hear at your age. It’s always sudden, tragically, unfortunately. As if any death is anything but those words.
Everything leading up to the funeral—from the phone call to the week it took you to get on the plane—felt like a fever dream. One you’d wake up from and everything would be normal again.
You’re too young. He’s too young.
Was.
He was too young.
Your throat tightens as you close your eyes, resting your head against the steering wheel of your rental car. The funeral awaits you inside, where you’ll say the goodbye he’ll never actually hear.
The entire week, you’d been looking through old pictures and videos, crying at the sound of his voice when you realized how long it’d been since you truly heard him.
You obviously had yet to accept what happened. You’re half-sure that the second you walk in, everyone will be in there as if they’ve all played an elaborate prank on you. How cruel of them to set all of that up in a funeral home. Was he in there right now, waiting for you to walk in with tears in your eyes so he could make fun of you?
You’d cry harder, punch his shoulder, yell at him for playing such a cruel joke on you.
But it’s not a joke.
You haven’t received a text in over a month—well past your monthly check-in time. That thought alone makes you want to scream. Monthly check-ins? You moved away from your friends years ago for college and a ghost of a dream. Now, the only ghost left is his, and you have no idea how to explain your absence.
You thought you had more time.
Maybe that everybody gets older—but that’s not true. He won’t.
A cold chill runs down your spine. You look up at the sky, wanting to curse it for the beautiful blue color when the shade inside your heart is so fucking painful. Gathering yourself and wiping away the stray tear, you brush your dress off and get out of your car. The lot is packed, considering how popular Jay is.
Was.
It’s not real for you yet. Even as you walk in through the doors, the miserable click of your heels on the concrete doing little to soothe the emotions running deep in your veins. The first thing you see when you walk in is a collage of pictures of him—and the one that catches your eye immediately is one of the biggest ones, portraying you, Jay, and Chenle from a few summers back. The three of you are beaming at each other, smiles too wide to not be painful.
A lump forms in your throat. You hadn’t even thought about Chenle. Not really. The three of you had been best friends growing up. Your parents all knew each other, and so you’d been grandfathered into two friendships. In your defense, nothing had been on your mind except for Jay. Not his family, not yours, not Chenle.
Jaw quivering, you trace your fingers over the two men in the picture. God, Chenle must be a fucking wreck right now. Your first goal was to find him.
It’s not like you weren’t friends with them anymore. You were busy, they were busy, and you had a friendship with both of them that made it easy to remain the same when together even if you spent months and months apart. You hadn’t seen either of them in person in over a year.
The doors are open, and you clench your fists together. You freeze just before the doorway. The second you walk in, all of this becomes real. Jay is dead, and you’ve failed to keep up with him and everyone else from your hometown. You’ve become someone else, and in the process, you forgot your roots.
You’ll never remember them again. Not when they’ve been cut at the source.
“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice sounds behind you, and you whirl around.
The tears you’d been holding back fall before you can stop them. You slap a hand over your mouth, and in the blink of an eye, Chenle’s closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping his arms around you.
“God, it’s been so fucking long,” he murmurs, tightening his grip.
You can’t talk yet. Guilt sets in regardless, because you hadn’t so much as messaged him when you heard about all of this. His palm rests on the back of your head, and he doesn’t say anything else. The two of you stand there, and you allow him to comfort you.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” you groan and wipe at your eyes. “This is all just…are you…how are you doing?”
“I’ve been better,” he admits. “Better now that you’re here, honestly. I went outside to take a break from everything and I saw you walk in. You have no idea how good it is to have you back here.”
“I can’t believe I’ve been gone for so long.” You glance up at the ceiling.
“Life happens,” Chenle says softly. He puts his hand on the small of your back. “If you’re ready, I’ll go in with you.”
“Thank you.” You take a deep breath.
Chenle has never been an emotional man. Even since you were children, you rarely even saw him tear up. Hopes of all of this being a prank dissipates quickly when you see the water gathered in his eyes as the two of you walk in.
The air inside is undeniably stuffy, bone-chilling, even. Silence is amplified by how you hear your own heart pounding in your ears. The carpeted floor creaks beneath your feet, and as soon as people recognize you, eyes are on you and Chenle. Nobody says anything.
The casket is on a stage of sorts. The left side is open, and you can’t see inside it from where you’re standing, but your feet freeze to the ground directly below you before you realize what’s happening. A flash of worry crosses over Chenle’s features as he steps in front of you to cover the view.
“Just breathe,” he whispers, hands on your shoulders. “It’s hard. I know. Trust me, do I fucking know, but it’s not about us and our feelings right now. It’s about Jay. You’ll get through this for Jay.”
“He’s in there.” You gulp. “It’s all real, and he’s…”
Your friend nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s real.”
Your throat constricts again, and you glance around. His family—his parents and younger brother—are in the front of the room, sitting down together. Much to your surprise, they’re not all sobbing, but the redness to his mother’s cheeks tells you she may have just shed too many tears to keep going.
“This is the last time you’ll ever see him,” Chenle says quietly. “You don’t have to go up there if you don’t want to, but I think you’ll regret it if you don’t. They put him in that stupid band shirt he never wanted to throw away.”
Your heart pangs, and warmth and fondness takes over. “Well, good thing he never did, huh?”
“Exactly.” Chenle chuckles. “I’ll go with you.”
Once you nod, he resumes his spot next to you and guides you up to your best friend to say goodbye. You don’t stay there long. After you see him, you’re sure you’ve been changed forever. It’s odd how serene and peaceful he looks. How nothing about him has really changed when everything about you and your life now has.
You speak briefly with his family, who are all thankful you came across the country for this—as if you’d ever miss it. You just wish you’d had that need to go home when death wasn’t involved. Yours, Jay’s, and Chenle’s parents stay at the funeral after you and Chenle leave. The two of you mutually agreed Jay would punch you both if he knew you were held up because of him.
You go to a cafe together, and despite you having zero appetite, Chenle insists you get something to eat. Grasping your warm coffee cup in both hands, you stare down at the steam while your friend is up at the counter waiting for everything else. You look out the window, watching the cars zoom past.
“It’s a little weird having you back here,” Chenle mentions as he sits down across from you.
“Well.” You sip your coffee. “It wasn’t exactly in the plan.”
“How long are you here for?”
“I took extended leave,” you tell him. “I’ll be here for a few months.”
He purses his lips and nods. “This town isn’t so great without you, you know. Jay and I used to talk about it all the time.”
“Yeah.” Your breath hitches and you stare at the steam from your cup. “I’ve been so…far away this whole time, and now it’s too late to fix it all.”
“Hey, there’s nothing to fix,” he interjects, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re out there making a life for yourself. We’ve never been anything but fucking proud of you, dude. You had the courage to get out. Neither of us ever could’ve attempted that.”
“Did he even get the chance?” You let out a pained laugh and set your coffee on the table.
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. He loved you, okay? Our friendship has always been easy. You don’t need to talk to people or see them every day to stay friends.” Chenle reaches across the table and grabs your hand.
Your shoulders slump. “God, you’re going through this at the same time I am and I’m just…making it about me. What’s going on with you?”
“Everyone grieves differently.” He pauses to think. “I’m…as okay as I can be, you know? But to be completely honest, I’m not sure how I am. Or what I’m gonna do. There’s not much I can do.”
“I still can’t believe it. He’s just…gone. How the hell do we keep going? It’ll never be the same.”
“You’re right,” Chenle agrees. “It’ll suck. It already does. But we’ll get through this together. I’m here for you.”
You squeeze his hand and give him a small smile. “And I’m here for you, of course. I’m gonna be better about staying in touch and visiting.”
“Where are you staying?” he asks.
“Well, my parents turned my room into a home gym, so I got a hotel for now.” You chuckle. “They really thought I was never coming back.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” His eyes widen. “You’re gonna stay in a hotel for a few months? Just come stay with me.”
“I didn’t want to impose on anyone.”
He presses his lips into a thin line. “C’mon, you’re not imposing and you know it. Plus, you haven’t seen the new house yet, so you may as well.”
“That’s right.” You gasp and shoot straight up. “You fucking bought a house.”
He grins. “Yeah, I did. And there’s plenty of space for you there. Plus, it’ll be better for both of us if we’re not alone right now.”
“You’re gonna make me play board games.”
“Obviously.” He scrunches up his nose. “You would have to even if you were staying in the hotel.”
Familiarity finally sets in, and the awkward air between you and Chenle has officially evaporated completely. He’s still your best friend, and the weirdness was in your own head. The two of you spend a bit of time catching up at the cafe—at times, you even find yourself laughing.
You missed your hometown. The friends you had when you were growing up. What a shame you’re missing one of the most pivotal people in your entire life. Your younger years were shaped and reformed by your friendship with Jay and Chenle.
When some girl bullied you in middle school, the boys were the first people to come to your defense. They’d walk you to and from class, and Chenle even called that girl out. In high school, when you got your first boyfriend, Jay and Chenle grilled him thoroughly. They were your family, and you were theirs.
One of the only times you’d seen Chenle cry was when he and Jay dropped you off at the airport when you were leaving for college. You hugged both of them so tightly, and you promised to visit often. They said they’d come see you, and that you’d never go too long without them.
Naive promises turn into friendships where you love each other, but you rarely see or hear from the other. Every time you did see them, it truly felt like no time had passed.
You and Chenle get into your car, and he directs you to his house. He tells you a little about it on the way—it’s not too big, two bedrooms, one bathroom, but the kitchen is really nice. He likes to cook, so, of course, that was a deciding factor when he was looking.
Your bags are still in the back, so he helps you grab them. He slings your backpack over his shoulder and grabs the larger of your two bags. Everything about your hometown feels foreign to you as you follow him inside. He flicks the lights on, and the first thing you notice is that same picture of you, Jay, and Chenle that you’d seen at the funeral home.
It’s framed in the center of the wall, and as soon as you see it, you exhale. Chenle stops mid-sentence, walking up to stand next to you.
“That’s my favorite picture of us.” He tilts his head. “He made fun of me for putting that up.”
“He’s always been so weird about mushy gushy friendship feelings.” You purse your lips. “Despite being the sappiest fucking guy I know.”
“He’d be so pissed at all of us for being sad.” Chenle chuckles. “He’d kill me if I let you stay in a hotel, too.”
“The last time I talked to him, he’d just broken up with that girl. What was her name?”
“I don’t even remember. She was weird, though. Like, he barely talked to you and she was all threatened I guess. You and Jay? You two would end up putting each other in headlocks.” He snorts and runs his fingers through his hair.
“We have put each other in headlocks,” you remind him, nudging his shoulder. “And I vaguely remember kicking his ass.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I’d consider that kicking his ass.”
“This…This feeling will go away eventually, right?” For some reason, you can’t lift your voice higher than a whisper as you force the words out.
“Which one? The gaping hole or the soul-crushing anxiety?” He throws his arm over your shoulders.
“Both.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think so.” He sighs. “I’ve heard from many that you kinda just…learn how to live with it.”
“Even though he can’t.”
“Even though he can’t,” Chenle repeats. “Guess the hardest part of all of this is that he won’t grow up with us, huh?”
You inhale sharply and cover your mouth. “Damn it.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I’ve been a damn roller coaster this whole week. You don’t have to be scared to feel around me. You know that.”
“It feels so fucking selfish,” you breathe out. “I haven’t seen him in…months, so do I even really have the right to be this sad?”
“Are you kidding me?” Chenle scoffs.
“Would he even want me here right now?”
“Do you hear yourself?” Your friend gapes at you. “He never stopped talking about the next time you’d be in town. Neither of us have ever even had a negative thought about you, dude. You should know that. There was never a time where he didn’t want you here.”
“I guess I just thought we’d have more time,” you say.
“The world waits for no one.”
When nightfall comes, you and Chenle go to your separate rooms. He bids you goodnight, and you close your door. You sit on the edge of the bed and take in the room around you. Everything has changed immensely since the last time you were in your hometown. Your best friend bought a house, and you’d barely even thought or heard about it. Pride in him surges through you, but for a moment, you think it may be misplaced.
You don’t deserve to be proud of someone you’ve failed to talk to as often as you should have. Losing Jay has torn your world apart, and you still don’t truly believe it. You change into your tank top and shorts, and then grab your toothbrush and toothpaste from your bag.
You’re on your way to the bathroom when you find Chenle in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and bringing a glass of water up to his lips. He gives you a tired nod.
“You’re still up?”
“Sleep on a day like this?” He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “I’ll probably have some crazy ass dream or something.”
You forget your adventure to his bathroom and approach the kitchen island. Without a word between the two of you, he goes into the cupboard to get you a cup as well. He fills it with water and slides it across the countertop.
“Thanks,” you say.
He nods once and crosses his arms over his chest. “How’s life going, though? Current events aside.”
“Life is a constant revolving door of work,” you tell him. “Working my way up the corporate ladder and all that bullshit they spew.”
“You look good. As long as you’re getting all the things you wanted, I’m good, too.” He closes his eyes and tilts his head back.
“Kind of debating if it was worth it at this point.” You sigh. “I’m proud of you, by the way. Buying a house on your own is a big deal.”
“Family business money.”
“You work. You earned it.”
“I guess that’s true. Thanks.” He pauses. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think I’d be okay if you weren’t.”
“Like I’d ever leave you to deal with something like this alone.” You tap your fingers against the granite, admiring the swirls of color deep in the design.
“Regardless, I needed you.” Chenle gulps, glancing at his feet. “I still do. Now more than ever with Jay gone.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t come?” you ask.
He wets his lips and takes the bottom one between his teeth. “It’s not that I thought that, necessarily, but I did wonder if you were. I didn’t hear from you, so I kind of just hoped.”
Guilt takes another stab at your heart. “Chenle, I—”
“Don’t apologize again,” he replies sternly. “Life is life. There’s no way any of us could’ve predicted this, okay? Sometimes, shit happens. Not being around a lot isn’t the end of the world.”
“It was for Jay.”
“You were not the end of the world. You didn’t kill him, for fuck’s sake. There’s nothing any of us could’ve done. And reminiscing on it like this and placing unplaceable blame on ourselves is going to make things harder.” He sets his cup in the sink.
“I know. I know that, but for some reason, my head keeps—”
“Let’s watch a movie,” he offers. “Maybe it’ll distract you a little bit.”
You agree, and go into the bathroom to brush your teeth before you follow him into his room. It’s so innately Chenle in there, you immediately feel relaxed. Some things never change, and you’re glad he’s one of those things.
“Sorry, I don’t have a TV in the living room,” he says as he pulls his covers back.
“Just roll me off if I fall asleep,” you reply, climbing onto the untouched side.
Eventually, he’s next to you, and you rest your head on his chest while he finds something to watch. He selects some random comedy movie and then shuffles to put his arm around you.
His scent is familiar, too. The world calms around you when you’re with Chenle. One out of two of your safe places has left the Earth, but luckily for you, Chenle is more than ready to play both roles.
The movie does, indeed, successfully distract you from the impending doom of everything outside. You’re able to forget, even if it’s just for a couple hours, and sink into the familiarity of your best friend.
His chest rumbles when he laughs at the screen, and the feeling has you drifting faster than you’d care to admit.
Until finally, your eyes flutter shut and stay that way, and just like that, you have the best night of sleep you’ve had all week.
You wake in the morning to sunlight on your face and Chenle wiggling away from you. The brightness burns your eyes, and you curse under your breath. Chenle bites back a laugh.
“Did I wake you up?” he asks. “I was about to go make some coffee for us.”
You shake your head and turn onto your back. “No, the sun violated me. Sorry for falling asleep in here. I thought I’d be able to catch myself.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He waves you off. “You still like your coffee the same way?”
You nod. “Thanks, Lele.”
“Of course.” He pats the door frame and heads to the kitchen. The creaks in the floorboards from his steps get further and further, and you cover your face with your hands to block out the sun.
You smell the coffee as it brews, a sigh escaping your lips. His bed is the most comfortable thing you’ve slept on in a while, and you can’t seem to force yourself to get up. You and Chenle had spent the night together many times before, pretty much throughout your entire lives. Jay, too, of course, considering how inseparable the three of you had been growing up.
“Alright, lazy ass,” Chenle calls out. “Coffee’s ready. Time to face the world.”
“Asshole,” you shout back.
“That’s what they call me.”
You laugh and roll your eyes. Swinging the covers off of you, you follow him into the kitchen.
“The fuck is your mattress made of?” you ask as you take the cup he hands you. “Clouds?”
“It’s pretty nice, isn’t it?” He sips his coffee and cringes from the heat.
“The steam is like, a dead giveaway that it’s too hot to drink, you know.”
“I take back what I said, go back to sleep.” He grins. “Getting a decent night’s sleep has brought your sass back.”
“You know you love my sass,” you bite back.
He holds his hand up in mock surrender. “Whatever.”
“What’s the plan for today?” you ask, holding your cup close so it warms you up.
“No clue,” he says. “My parents gave me a few weeks off to, I don’t know, adjust or whatever. Even though I could probably use the distraction.”
“Comedy movie didn’t do it for you?”
He gives you a pointed look. “A two hour movie can only do so much.”
“We should do something for him,” you suggest, tilting your head as you try to think. “Like, to honor him.”
“What could we do?”
“Sky’s the limit.” You shrug. “I feel like I should.”
“If you do, it needs to be actually for him. Not to compensate for guilt. Guilt you shouldn’t even be feeling, by the way.” His eyes on you suddenly becomes too much. You avert your gaze. He’s always been able to read you like a book.
“It’s really weird,” you say. “Right now, I don’t feel…anything. But I really thought I’d be in a constant state of sad. That makes me feel guilty, too.”
“I get that. It’s the way things work, though. At the end of the day, we’re still alive. We shouldn’t stop just because he did.” Chenle looks past you to the picture on the wall.
You follow suit, letting the events from yesterday flood back to you.
“Lele.” You wait for him to look at you. “Thank you. For everything. And for not letting me blame myself. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’d be alone and sad and, quite honestly, wondering where I—”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” You glare at him.
He smiles. “You get it.”
You and Chenle spend some time with your parents. They’re quick to update you on everything everyone in the town has been doing, and you and Chenle exchange ‘when-will-this-be-over’ glances frequently.
Chenle offers to help your dad cook, leaving you and your mother in the living room. She brings out an old photo album, and the two of you take a trip down memory lane. After flipping through a few pages, she gasps and points at a picture of you and Chenle next to each other at a bonfire. You’re holding the graham crackers, awaiting the marshmallow he’s toasting over the flames.
“You guys were so young.” She lets out a long sigh.
“Mom, that was like, six years ago.” You laugh. “We weren’t that young.”
She trails down the page, and the next one is almost the same, but Jay’s arms are around you and Chenle, and he beams straight into the camera. You smile at the sight, remembering how you swatted at his wrist the second after the photo was taken.
“You know, we all thought you and Jay would get married one day,” she says absent-mindedly.
“What?” you ask incredulously. “Seriously? Come on, you know we were never like that.”
“You kids don’t see it from the outside. I’ve never seen you act so comfortable with anyone. Chenle, too, obviously. I can’t explain it. It was different with you and Jay.”
“I promise you, he’s only ever been my best friend. Not even a smidge of another thought. Don’t speak ill of the dead like that—”
“(Y/N),” your mother scolds you, smacking your arm.
“No need to beat around the bush.” You shrug and close the album.
“Hey, do you—” Chenle’s cut off by your mother.
“If you actually visited as much as you said you would, maybe things would’ve happened for the two of you.”
She doesn’t mean it the way you take it, at least you don’t think she does, but it’s a stray bullet to the heart anyway. Your jaw drops, and it only takes one glance from Chenle for him to understand. He reaches into his pocket and hands you his keys.
“Go get in the car.”
“Chenle, it’s not—”
“Go. I’ll be out in a second.”
Your insides twist and turn, and despite the way your throat closes in on itself, you nod and practically bolt out of the house. The first tear drops as you climb into the passenger seat. You close your eyes and drop your head into your hands. How did life turn out this way?
It’s true that you and Jay had never had any sort of feelings for each other, but the insinuation that he should’ve been more confuses you more than anything. If he should’ve been, you lost that chance before you even knew it existed. But it doesn’t matter, does it?
You never had feelings for him. Never. But for some reason, it suddenly feels like you have to.
Now, a different type of guilt sinks in.
You’re shaking by the time Chenle gets in the car, but he doesn’t say anything before he drives away. Stress boils off of him, and you’re almost scared to glance over at him. Luckily, the ride to his house is short thanks to your small hometown, and as soon as you’re out of the car and inside, he lets out a loud sigh.
You intend to quietly and quickly head into your own room, where you’ll cry until you fall asleep or you need more water before you can shed a single additional tear.
“Don’t even think about it,” Chenle says, grabbing onto your wrist. “Talk to me.”
You stumble into his chest and hold onto his T-shirt like your life depends on it. He cradles the back of your head and sighs, thumb stroking your scalp.
“Don’t let them get to you,�� he whispers. “They don’t understand.”
“What if she was right?” you choke out.
He leans away from you to look at your face. “Did you? Ever have feelings for him?”
“No, but what if—”
“There’s no use thinking about things like that.” Chenle’s brows furrow as he scans over your face.
“And now I’ll never know if he ever thought like that, and it’s my fault—it’s not what I wanted, because you know I’d rather fist fight him than anything else, but God, what if he—”
“(Y/N).” His palms reach up to cup your cheeks, making you look straight at him as he guides you to breathe. “I can very confidently say that Jay didn't have any sort of romantic feelings for you at any point, okay? Just take a deep breath.”
“I look like an idiot, don’t I?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, you don’t. You look like someone who really cares for someone they just lost. These feelings are normal, dude.”
“I don’t think you were ever worried about Jay potentially having feelings for you,” you mumble.
“He was very much into women, so definitely never a worry on my part.” Chenle snorts and pulls you back into a hug. “She shouldn’t have said something like that to you. You’re probably hungry, too. I’ll order us some pizza.”
“Let me pay for it,” you say, reaching into your purse for your card.
“Next time.” He nudges you before walking into the kitchen.
You sigh and follow him, quickly wiping the wetness from your cheeks. He’s typing away on his phone screen, resting his elbows on the counter. He runs his fingers through his hair and sends a quick smile your way.
Without Jay around, things with Chenle felt off at first. Everything changed for all of the people you knew in the blink of an eye, and now, you’re left with one of two of your best friends while the other is galavanting up in the sky.
Things would never be the same for you, but you still have Chenle. And at the end of the day, he’s one of the only people in the entire world that have ever understood you. You don’t even need to say a word for him to get a read on you.
“Pizza’s ordered.” He drops his phone onto the granite. “I need a drink. Do you want something? I only have beer and liquor.”
“Beer’s fine,” you tell him. “I shouldn’t drink too much anyway.”
You’re halfway through the can when the pizza arrives. Chenle grabs you a piece, and you pause for a moment. This whole time, he’s been doing things for you—and it’s not just now either. It’s been like this for your entire life. Until the time you moved across the country on your own, you’d barely ever even opened a door for yourself.
You down the rest of your drink, and Chenle blinks at you rapidly.
“Are you good?” He chuckles.
“Just thinking of how good I had it here.” You shrug. “When I lived here, and I got to hang out with you and Jay all the time. I never felt lonely or sad or anything like that. Always happy with you guys.”
His face softens. “I miss those days.”
“Me too.” Right when you open your mouth to continue, Chenle stops you.
“Don’t.” He points at you. “We were the ones who told you to go in the first place.”
The two of you eat in a peaceful silence, where you steal a couple glances at your long time friend. Had you come home any other time before this, Jay would be here, too, and he’d most likely be making fun of you and Chenle right now. It’s like things have gone back to day one, and neither of you are sure how to interact with each other. The atmosphere, the air, the storyline has all massively shifted. You’re unsure of what to do.
“I’m gonna watch another movie,” Chenle says absentmindedly as he finishes sending a message on his phone. “You in?”
“Oh, not this time.” You shake your head. “I’m exhausted. Last thing you need is me hogging your bed again all night.”
He laughs. “Door’s open if you change your mind. Night.”
“Goodnight,” you tell him, watching as he retreats into his room.
The click signifies he’s out of sight, out of mind. You let out a long sigh and clean up your plate before heading into your own room. It’s not as homey as Chenle’s, and the mattress isn’t as cloudy either, but you’ll make do. With a deep breath, you rest back on your pillow, staring up at the ceiling.
Part of you wants to be with Chenle, but the other side of you knows you need to learn how to be okay on your own, too. If Jay’s death has taught you anything, it’s that not everyone you rely on will be around forever. Maybe if you’d relied on him less—
God damn it. You run your hands down your face, opting to scroll through your phone. Halfway through a random video, you receive a text from Chenle.
It’s a simple message of ‘found this and figured you’d want to see.’ It’s a picture of you and Jay, where you look like you’re ready to punch him in the face, and he’s beaming widely as if he’s the funniest person alive.
The photo makes you smile. Your memories of him will stand through the test of time, but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to feel it. One thing’s for certain—his loss will always be felt. You’ll just try and make the most of the time you have left, because it’s very clearly fleeting.
You feel decent enough that you start to drift to sleep, but it’s your dreams that send you through a whirlwind. Images of your earlier years flash through your mind, and you relive some experiences you’d forgotten about. When Jay found out his first girlfriend cheated on him, or when he and Chenle got into their first ever argument and made you be the mediator. Happy memories suddenly came to an end when your dream showed him in his casket, surrounded by the people who love him—the people you abandoned to follow your dream.
You jolt awake, tears burning at your eyes despite refusing to fall. When you look at the clock, hours have passed, and it’s well into the middle of the night. You pat your cheeks to ground yourself to the real world, and overwhelming worry hits you.
What if you lose Chenle in the same way? What if all this time that was wasted is truly…gone, and you’ll never be able to make it up?
You never got to say goodbye to Jay. The days will continue to get colder, but he’ll always be cemented on a bright summer day in the middle of June. Winters without him will be like a frozen hell, and the summers will never be quite as sweet. Your heart pounds in your chest where your guilt resides, and there’s only one solution you know that’ll work.
You throw your blanket off your body and slide out of bed. The floors of Chenle’s house creak beneath your feet as you walk the short distance from your room to his. You contemplate knocking first, but you’re pretty sure he’s asleep anyway.
When you push the door open, the noise catches his attention. He turns over, eyebrows furrowed as he catches you in the frame.
“(Y/N)?”
“Hey,” you mutter, clasping your hands together. “Sorry, I thought you’d be asleep.”
“Nah.” He sits up. “Not doing too great at that these days.”
“Oh. Well, um, do you wanna watch that movie?”
Chenle smiles gently at you and pats the other side of his bed. “For sure.”
You end up next to him, resting your head on him like you did last time. He wraps his arm around you and gently taps his fingers against your shoulder. Eventually, you completely relax and stare forward at the screen. Despite the movie playing, you already feel your tiredness pulling at you again.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly. “It’s just…late. You weren’t asleep?”
“I…” You pause and turn to look at him. “You want me to be honest?”
“Always.”
“I’m so…scared. I’m not really sure of what, but I have this ball of worry in me. It like, physically hurts.” You roll your eyes and tighten your grip on him.
“I get it,” he murmurs. “Seriously. When things like this happen, it’s normal to feel that way. And it doesn’t make you selfish.”
A lump forms in your throat. “I—Chenle, I don’t want to lose you, too.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures you, pulling you closer to hug you. “I promise you, you’ll always have me.”
“But we never know, do we?” Your voice shakes. “All of it could be over in the blink of an eye—”
He cups your cheeks. “Just relax, okay? I’m right here. I’ve thought the same things about you, you know. To the point where I’m scared to let you out of my sight. But living in fear is worse than not living at all.”
“What do we do without…” You groan as the first tear falls, but before you reach up to wipe it away, Chenle beats you to it.
“We do exactly what he’d want us to do. Keep going and make life whatever we want it to be. He’d be so pissed if he knew we were sad right now.”
“God, he would.” You let out a short laugh. “He’s glaring at us, isn’t he?”
“Oh, for sure. For this and for having a fucking sleepover without him.” Chenle’s smile widens.
“He loved sleepovers.”
“He was insufferable about them,” he interjects.
“Thank you,” you whisper. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out,” he says, and despite the obvious part of all of it being out of his control, something settles in you.
Your brows furrow as you gulp, studying him to figure out what about this feels…shifted. Things don’t feel like they have every single time you’ve come home in the past, but that may be because of the obvious. There was always three of you. How do you recover from that and become two?
“You don’t have to feel weird about staying in here,” Chenle tells you. “I sleep better when I’m not alone, anyway.”
“It’s not just being alone…I think I sleep better because it’s you.” You curl further into him, and he squeezes you gently.
“Me too.” He runs his fingers through your hair.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“What did you say earlier? To my mom.”
“Oh, not much.” He shrugs. “Just that it was shitty to say something like that to you after everything that’s happened recently. And that you already feel bad enough, and she doesn’t need to make it worse when it’s not your fault to begin with.”
“Not much, huh?” You chuckle.
“It wasn’t enough,” he replies. “I could’ve ranted for hours about how that whole thing was bullshit. But I figured you’d be hungry, so I took you home instead.”
Home.
His home. Not yours. But you’ve never quite felt like you belonged anywhere as much as you do right now. You slide your legs to tangle them with his, and he intertwines his fingers with yours. Without explanation, your heart skips a beat. The warmth of his palm against yours has your mind in overdrive, but you don’t acknowledge it.
“Try and get some sleep,” he whispers.
You nod, terrified of shattering whatever shroud of calm is over you. Instead of a verbal response, you just close your eyes and try to ignore whatever that nagging feeling is snapping at the back of your brain.
Chenle lets out a short sigh, and it doesn’t take long for his breathing to even out. You listen to the steady thumping of his heart, the rhythm guiding you closer to falling asleep. It doesn’t matter what happens. He’s alive. The sound you’re hearing is proof of that, so at that moment you make a vow to yourself. To him.
You’ll never let distance separate you two again. You’ll never let him go the same way you did with Jay.
You’re going to be better.
And that promise, resounding in your soul, is enough to make the night around you fade to black.
A week and a half passes, and you’ve yet to spend an entire night on your own. You try, but every single time, either your or Chenle cave. Sometimes, he’d crawl into your bed without a word, pull you close to him, and breathe you in before falling asleep in silence.
He very quickly becomes your comfort. The only person you want to be around or talk to in the wake of a monumental loss. You try not to let Jay consume your thoughts, but every time you allow your mind to wander, he’s waiting for you at every corner.
The only time you’re truly at ease is with Chenle, and you’ve started getting used to being around him all the time. Today in particular, the two of you decided to have an impromptu picnic in the backyard, the sunset turning the sky oranges and pinks. Both of you lie flat on a blanket he spread out, staring up at the clouds as they scour across the sky.
An empty wine bottle is on the grass not even a foot away from you, and another one is half empty in between you and Chenle. You’ve had just enough to bring a calm, steady feeling over you, and you’re able to forget the world for a moment.
Your best friend lets out a sigh, shuffling a bit closer to you.
“What’s up?” you ask him, turning your head to look at him.
You’re lost in the way the sunset illuminates his face, how overwhelming Chenle he is while equally being reminiscent of an angel.
“You think he’s up there?” he whispers.
Your gaze returns to the sky. “I’d like to think so.”
“He better be. We both know he wouldn’t last a day in Hell.” He chuckles to himself, shaking his head. “I guess I’ve been thinking like that recently. About where we go after…”
“You know I’ve always had a sixth sense about him.” You nudge his arm. “Wherever he is, he’s happy. I can feel it.”
“God, I hope so.” Chenle inhales sharply. “I just wish…I don’t know. That there was something I could’ve done to prevent all of this.”
“Don’t. You’re the one who told me the what-ifs are pointless. There’s nothing we can do to change that he’s gone, but we keep him alive in our memories. That’s what he’d want.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he admits as he clasps his hands together over his stomach.
“What do you mean?” you ask.
He wets his lips. “Jay’s gone. You’ll go back to work eventually. It’ll just be me here, and I—am I behind? Should I be doing something with my fucking life?”
“Chenle—”
“You’ve got these amazing opportunities out there for you, (Y/N). Jay doesn’t get the chance to try, and I’m gonna waste my fucking life away in this God damned town.” He gulps and lets out a defeated sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this right now. And I hope you know this isn’t your fault—”
“Zhong Chenle, would you look at me?” you snap, waiting for him to turn his head.
Chenle furrows his eyebrows, and as his eyes meet yours, you see the desperate worry behind them. The fear of a meaningless life after the loss of a friend who could never do better now that he’s gone, and the knowledge that his other friend got out while she could.
You know him like the back of your hand. He doesn’t want this life. Truth be told, he never did. He wanted to make something of himself, much like you were doing now, and he never got the chance. No moves were made.
You want to tell him there’s still time, but you know better than to go there at this point. With a soft smile, you reach over and cup his cheek, allowing your thumb to run over his cheekbone.
“It’s not your fault. There was nothing either of us could do to stop this, okay? And do you know how pissed Jay would be hearing you talk about yourself like this? Chenle, you’re the best person I’ve ever known. If there’s anyone in this world who can take it by storm, it’s you.” You pause and take a deep breath. “Jay…dying doesn’t mean you have to lay here and die, too.”
“I needed you,” he says. “When he died, I needed you, and you were here. And you always know what to say or what to do. Helping you took the thoughts away from me, because as long as you needed me, I was distracted from feeling fucking helpless about everything.”
“I needed you, too,” you tell him.
His frown deepens, but his gaze softens. Your heart seems to skip a beat, and you still haven’t moved your hand from his face. The stare you’re locked in with him has energy thrumming through your veins, and the atmosphere around you shifts. A slight purple hue from the sky flutters against his skin.
“I still do,” he murmurs.
You nod. “Me, too. I’m not going anywhere, Lele.”
As his eyes travel down to your mouth, you quickly find yourself doing the same. Your imagination runs wild, wondering what his lips would feel like against yours. Everything that happens next is so quick, you almost don’t believe it’s true.
Both of you seem to lean forward at the same time, and his mouth brushes yours. His hand ends up on your hip, and yours moves up to his hair. The soft strands have your breath hitching, and the next thing you know, he’s kissing you. You’re kissing him. You’ve never considered anything like this with Chenle before, but nothing in your life has ever felt so right.
His lips work so perfectly against yours, you forget about absolutely everything except for him. Fingers gripping onto the fabric of your shirt, he shifts closer to you to close the rest of the distance. You attempt to follow his lead, but you’re interrupted by the wine bottle between you falls right onto your lap, the deep red liquid making you gasp as it soaks into your pants.
“Shit,” you curse, jolting away from Chenle.
He quickly grabs some of the paper towel he brought outside and attempts to soak up the alcohol soaked into your clothing. His hand presses against your thigh, and with a gasp, you realize what truly happened.
You just kissed Chenle. You would’ve continued kissing him, too, if the stupid bottle hadn’t been in the way. But now you’ve got his fingers digging into your leg, the warmth zinging through your veins like lightning as you swat his hands away.
“(Y/N), I—”
“Don’t.” You shake your head. “Everything’s fine.”
You quickly stand and make your way into his house to change. And to avoid what will come of this situation. Once you’re in your room, you close the door and lock it behind you, sinking down until you’re sitting on the floor.
You don’t care about your pants. Every aspect of your life has been upheaved this week. You don’t need things to change with Chenle, too. Ever since you were little, you, Jay, and Chenle had always been open and honest with each other—probably too much, in hindsight, but you trusted them both with your life. As far as you were aware, none of you had ever even come close to romantic feelings for each other.
When Chenle said he needs you, is that what he meant? Does he need you or does he need someone?
Your calm buzz from the wine has disappeared, and now panic sets in. You already lost one best friend, and you refuse to lose another. It doesn’t matter how much you wanted to kiss him. Or how much you enjoyed it. Or how badly you want to go out there and ask him what the hell he was thinking.
You flinch at the knocking.
“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” His voice is strained, like he’s having just as hard of a time as you are.
When you don’t answer, you hear a shuddering breath escape him.
“(Y/N), please,” he pleads. “I’m so sorry. Seriously, I have no idea what came over me, and I just—I need you, okay? I can’t be alone right now.”
You sniffle and stand up, cracking the door open so you can see him.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “Please don’t hate me.”
“You idiot, I could never hate you,” you reassure him, pulling him into a hug.
He sighs in relief, the tension in his body deflating as he holds you as tightly as he can. And before you know it, he’s shuddering in your grasp, his body wracked with sobs. Your heart shatters, and you cradle the back of his head. He practically collapses into you, and it has both of you on the floor.
You’ve never seen him like this before. Worry has your stomach twisting and turning, and all you can do is run your fingers through his hair and make sure he knows you’re here. That you’ll never go anywhere without him again.
“I’m so sorry.” Barely coherent, he tightens his grip on you.
“It’s okay,” you whisper, rocking him back and forth as you fight your own tears. “Everything’s okay. I promise, Lele, I’ve got you.”
After a while of you rocking him back and forth, he stops crying. Your shirt is soaked, but you couldn’t care less. You know he needed this, to finally let go of every pent up emotion trapped in his heart, and you want to make sure his thoughts won’t build up like that again.
He falls asleep against you, his grip not loosening. Eventually, you doze off too.
When you wake up, you quickly realize you’re now laying in your bed. The room is pitch black, and it takes you a moment to adjust. Chenle’s nowhere to be found, even when you pat the bed next to you to see if he’d taken his normal spot.
You toss the blanket off your lap. Before leaving the room, you change your wine-stained pants to shorts, and swap your shirt out for a T-shirt. As you walk into the kitchen, you’re surprised to find the light on. Chenle sits at the table, a glass filled with bronze liquid in front of him. With his palms covering his face, he sighs.
“Lele,” you mutter, voice hoarse from sleep.
His tired eyes meet yours, and he quickly averts his gaze and takes a sip of his drink. You shuffle closer and sit directly across from him, clasping your fingers together.
“You’re still up?” you ask.
He nods once.
“Can you talk to me please? This is scaring me.”
He gulps. “I’m so sorry. For earlier. All of it. I have no idea what got into me, and then just—I should’ve left you alone after, too, and I didn’t, and I feel like a fucking ass—”
“Clearly, you’ve had some pent up emotions going on. It’s okay to be confused about them, and I’d never be mad at you for needing me. You’re my best friend. One kiss is not going to ruin us or something. If this is the first time you’ve cried for real since Jay died, you needed that, too.”
“I’m…I don’t know. Embarrassed?”
“Oh, come on.” You scoff. “You’ve done way more embarrassing things in your life that I’ve witnessed.”
“It’s different now.” He frowns.
“Different? How?”
“Everything is different. Jay’s gone, we’ve both changed as people, our families barely even talk anymore. And you know they’ve been best friends for as long as we’ve been alive. If they can drift apart, does that mean we will, too?” he rants, tugging his fingers through his hair.
“Is that what last night was about?”
“I can’t lose you, okay? I panicked last night after I kissed you, ‘cause it felt like I’d ruined everything. And you like, ran away from me, and I—shit, I don’t know. Everything inside me just…froze. All I could think about was that if you left me, too, I’d be completely alone.” He downs the last of his drink, cringing as the liquid rolls down his throat.
“I would never leave you. No matter what.” You reach across the table and grab his hand. “Whatever that meant for you, whether it was an impulsive decision or if you truly wanted it, you can be honest with me. We’re going through a big change right now, you know. Things are going to be confusing and the only way we’ll ever get through it is if we talk about those confusing things.”
He stares where you’re touching him, jaw tightening as his chest rises. “It wasn’t the first time I wanted to.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry if that’s weird—”
“Don’t. Just keep talking.”
“I don’t know what’s going on with me, honestly. I just…it feels like you’re the only person who understands me. The only one who ever will understand me.” His voice shakes as he speaks, and his grip tightens. “Ever since you’ve been back, things have…changed for me, I guess.”
Your heart pounds, apparently hammering against your throat and making it hard to breathe. You refuse to allow any reaction to come out until he’s done, because that’ll counteract everything you’re trying to do here.
“And I don’t know how they’ve changed, to be fair. It’s different. That’s all I know. We’re closer than we’ve ever been, and um…” He closes his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he gains the courage to continue.
“It’s okay,” you tell him. “Keep talking. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I think I…like you.” Chenle’s shoulders slump as the words escape him. “But this is so…so much right after everything with Jay, and I don’t know if I really do, or if it’s because—”
“I get it, Lele.” You send a small smile his way. “It’s not weird, and I completely understand what you’re talking about. At the end of the day, we’ll always be best friends. So if this is something you want to explore, the worst case scenario is we end up right back to being friends, right?”
His widened eyes dart back to yours, shock evident on his face. “What?”
“There’s only one way to figure out if it’s real or if it’s a product of circumstances.” You shrug. “And honestly, I’ve been…the same, I think. I kissed you out there, too. But we don’t have to make this weird. We can let things naturally progress if they do, and until then, we’ll just be us. Okay?”
“How long?” he asks quietly. “When did you start…”
“The night we came back here after everything my mom said,” you tell him. “I needed you, and you refused to leave my side.”
“It was that day for me, too. I saw the look on your face when she said all those things to you. The thought of you and Jay like that got me thinking, I guess.” He lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you for not making this weird.”
“It doesn’t have to be. We’re both adults and we’ve known each other our whole lives. There’s nothing wrong with…exploring something as long as we’ll be okay after if it doesn’t work out.” You release his hand and grab the cup in front of him.
When you stand to put it in the sink, he leans back in his chair and watches you. You’re surprised by yourself, truly, because you expected some sort of awkwardness to start between the two of you after your conversation, but everything feels the same.
You make eye contact with him over your shoulder, and he gives you a small smile. When you make it back over to him, you put your hands on his shoulders.
“You need to get some rest,” you tell him.
“Come with me?” He places his hand over yours.
“Sure.”
He stands, and when he faces you again, the distance between the two of you is minuscule. You’ve known the man in front of you for your whole life. You’ve spent all that time with him, never quite feeling the way you do now.
Maybe it’s because of Jay’s passing, and the two of you are desperately grasping onto something familiar. There’s a pretty decent chance of that, but also…maybe this is how things were always meant to be.
You’re not entirely sure what to expect at this moment, but he pulls you into a hug, squeezing you tightly. You relax in his grasp, returning his gesture with ease. When he lets you go, he grabs your hand and leads you to his bedroom, and just like most nights before this one, the two of you quickly fall asleep wrapped up in each other.
A few days pass with no changes. You woke up first this morning, so you head into his kitchen to start the coffee. Leaning the small of your back on the counter, you close your eyes and inhale the scent of the dark, brewing liquid. Chenle’s shirt hangs off your shoulder, and it’s almost long enough to cover your shorts.
There’s a short knock on the front door, and with a frown, you move to answer it. When you open it, you’re surprised to find a woman behind it. She seems familiar, but you can’t place it.
“(Y/N)?” She frowns, eyeing you. “What are you doing here?”
You chuckle. “Sorry, do we know each other?”
“Oh, you probably don’t know me. Chenle and I dated not too long ago, and he used to tell me about you all the time. I heard about Jay and wanted to stop by and make sure he was okay.”
“Oh, he’s—” You pause, wondering what you should even say to this girl. “He’s sleeping right now. If you come back later, I’m sure he’ll be…um, accepting of conversation.”
Recognition comes back to you as soon as she explains who she is. They broke up over six months ago, and while Chenle didn’t really tell you why, he said he broke up with her. You hear footsteps behind you, and relief floods when you feel Chenle’s presence behind you.
“Did you need something?” he asks her.
“I, um, I heard about Jay. I know how close you guys were, so I wanted to see how you were doing. How are you doing? It’s probably good that (Y/N)’s back, right?” she rambles, clasping her hands together behind her back.
“Thanks for stopping by, but I’m alright. Having (Y/N) back is great, and you should probably get going.” Chenle’s tone stays steady, and you’re shocked to find him so stern with her.
“Chenle, I—”
“I don’t know what your goal was in showing up here, but you shouldn’t have. (Y/N), close the door please.”
You shoot a nervous glance over your shoulder, and then an awkward smile to the girl on the other side, and then do as he says. After, you turn to face him with a raised eyebrow.
“Not even worth the conversation,” he says, shaking his head. “Is that coffee I smell?”
You nod. “Yep, I figured you’ve made me enough coffee, so it’s probably my turn.”
You rest the small of your back against the counter, and he approaches you, placing his hands on either side of you as he leans closer to you. Your heart races, lodged in your throat as you await his next move.
“You know, your eyes dilate when you look at me,” he teases you.
“Shut up.” You gently push at his chest and laugh. “It’s only because you piss me off.”
“Not according to science.” He gives you a smug grin.
“I cannot believe you’re flirting with me right now,” you tell him, scoffing. “I haven’t even had any coffee yet. I can’t keep up.”
It’s been days since the kiss. So much time has passed, and he hasn’t even so much as tried to kiss you again. The way his gaze flicks down and his smile fades has every logical thought escaping your brain.
“Relax,” he whispers. “It’ll never feel normal if you don’t.”
You let the tension release from your shoulders, and you nod. His hand slides beneath the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his palm directly on your hip. Your face heats up at the gesture, unsure of how to reciprocate or let him know you like it.
“I think we should really talk about all of that, though.” You clear your throat.
He quirks an eyebrow at you. “We’ll talk about it soon. Not at this very second.”
He lifts his other hand to the back of your neck, his thumb stroking your skin as he leans forward. You meet him in the middle and grip onto his shoulders. The kiss is short, and as he pulls away, his eyes flutter open.
“Again,” you say.
He kisses you again, and this time, he moves a little closer to you to make sure his chest is against yours. His fingers weave into your hair, and you let out a short moan. Embarrassment floods through you as you pull away from him and drop your head against his chest.
“Did you just—”
“Don’t you dare.” You shake your head.
“Maybe we should put everything out on the table,” he continues. “Like what…um, what we’re okay with during our…this, and what things are off-limits.”
“I would think that things shouldn’t be off-limits if we’re trying to see if this is real. If we’re…compatible.” Your cheeks burn as the words leave your mouth. “Why are we being like this? We’ve never been awkward talking about sex.”
His eyes widen and his face turns bright red. “Probably because we’ve never talked about sex together. Like me and you.”
“That’s really weird to think about.”
“Sure is.”
“Should we…move on? I think the coffee’s done.” You push his arm away so you can slide away from him. Clearing your throat, you grab two coffee cups from the cupboard.
Chenle leans his back against the counter where you’d just been, with his arms crossed over his chest. You make both coffees and mix them together before turning around to hand him his. He takes it with a smile and a quick thank you, and then you sip your own.
“So,” you start. “Tell me what happened with that girl.”
He sighs. “You really wanna know?”
“Of course, I do. It’s a little weird that I don’t know already.”
“She was weirdly obsessed with you and Jay. Like, constantly was bringing you up despite never having met you, and just…it was weird. Kinda gave me the vibes that she’d just be jealous all the time when you did come around.” He pauses, pursing his lips as he thinks further. “That, and she tried to fuck Jay.”
You choke on your coffee. “Hello? She did what?”
“Yep. Jay came to me immediately, obviously, and I broke up with her right after.” He shrugs. “We weren’t together for that long.”
“It was weird because she did act like she knew me.” You set your cup down on the counter and approach him again. Wrapping your arms around him, you place your head on his chest. He squeezes you closer to him.
“Jay and I talked about you all the time,” he reminds you. “C’mon, you’re our favorite person. Of course, everyone in our lives would know you.”
“You two have always loved to talk, that’s for sure.” You grin up at him, and he feigns annoyance and pokes your side.
It becomes an unspoken rule between the two of you that you’ll start trying to let things happen as naturally as possible. Living in a small town makes it nearly impossible to keep gossip from spreading, so any time you go out together, you make it look as friendly as possible. Regardless, people were going to talk anyway.
You and Chenle are halfway through a bottle of wine at dinner when both your mom and his mom show up. Chenle shares a panicked look with you, but you scoot over to let your mom sit down.
“What are you two doing here?” you ask.
“Yu Baeyoung said she saw you here.” Your mom nudges your arm.
You chuckle. “Yes, I’ve been around for almost a month and a half now.”
“No, silly, she means here. With Chenle,” his mom interjects.
Chenle’s face scrunches up. “Let’s not do this right now.”
“Do what?” Your mom’s brow raises.
“You guys have done this to us our entire lives.” You scratch the top of your head. “Can’t two friends enjoy dinner without meddling?”
“This is a nice place for a couple of friends to hang out.” His mom gestures to the wine. “Drink choice doesn’t seem friendly either.”
“Would you prefer us slamming shots of tequila?” Chenle presses his lips together in a thin line, but he’s incredibly stiff.
You decided not to tell your families about any of this for this exact reason—they’d get way too far ahead of themselves, and the last thing you need is for this not to work out and both sides asking hundreds of questions.
“Baeyoung said she’s seen you guys around together a lot, actually—”
“Mom, please.” Chenle lets out a long sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “If we had something to tell you, we’d let you know. And if you did think we were here for…I don’t know, whatever, why would you butt in instead of letting us continue?”
You grab your wine glass and finish off what’s left in it.
“We’re just curious.” Your mom pouts and crosses her arms over her chest. “I think you’d be good for each other—”
“For the love of God, you were saying you wanted me with Jay for years just last week. Can I have friends ever? I really think you should go.” You don’t know what part of that sinks under your skin and picks at your soul, but you’re already on a tightrope with your mother.
“Oh, don’t be like that.” She waves you off.
“All due respect, but we’re trying to be normal after our best friend died, okay?” Chenle scoffs and taps his fingers on the table. “The three of us used to go out like this all the time. We’re learning to live without Jay, and it sucks, so if you could not assume things this fast, that’d be great.”
Guilt sinks into your heart, and you drop your head into your hands. You wish you knew what Jay would think of all of this. If he’d call you both crazy for trying to be together when you’ve lost him, a pivotal piece of this friendship circle.
“Chenle, that’s a bit much, don’t you think?” his mom asks.
“It’s not. It’s really not. And not only was he our best friend, but he was the first…passing we’ve experienced. So, we need space if you guys are going to keep assuming things that don’t even matter to you. Even if we were dating, we’re grown adults and we’d tell you when we’re ready.”
You gape at Chenle. He slumps back against the booth and sighs. Your mother shifts next to you, and Chenle’s mom’s smile fades quickly. You’ve done well thus far in distracting yourself from Jay. The days don’t get easier, but they seem shorter, at least. Having Chenle by your side helps. He was right when he said it would never get better, only that you’d learn to adjust to it. Instead of a sharp, stabbing pain every time you think of him, the knife gets a little duller every day. That, or your heart steels in resolve a little bit more.
“He’s right.” You nod. “We’re not teenagers anymore, guys. You don’t need to know everything about us, or gang up on us at dinner. We’re adults trying to navigate life, and you need to give us the room to do that.”
“I never thought of it that way. This was all lighthearted fun, dear. We thought it might help to keep you guys distracted from everything, but we’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want us to do.” Chenle’s mom puts her hand on his shoulder.
Your mom murmurs an agreement, and then after a confirmation from you and Chenle, they get up and leave the two of you to your dinner. You empty the wine bottle between the two glasses and raise your eyebrow at him.
“I like when you stand up for us like that,” you say, leaning back against your seat.
A smile forms on his face as he rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe they just date crashed us. Maybe we’ll be able to go out without the town out to get us one day.”
“Doubtful. But hopefully, we’ll eventually know what this is.” You sip your wine. “Then, it won’t matter what everyone knows.”
His gaze softens and trails over you. “And we’ll be fine either way.”
“That we will.” You raise your glass and smile as he clinks his against yours.
When you get back to Chenle’s house, he guides you inside with a hand on the small of your back. He helps you take your jacket off, and the warm of his touch down your arms sends goosebumps along your skin.
At this point, you’re pretty sure it’s real for you. That your feelings aren’t a product of losing a friend and clinging onto normalcy, but the start of something beautiful you could have with Chenle.
You take a step toward your room, and he grabs your wrist to pull you back to him. He asks, “Where are you going?”
“To change, you loser.” You chuckle. “I’ll be there in a sec.”
“Can’t you just wear something of mine?” He wraps his arms around you. “I like when you wear my stuff.”
“Just say you wanna watch me take my clothes off, you freak,” you tease him.
His eyes widen, and he takes a step back while his cheeks redden. “I wouldn’t just ask you to do that, but if you wanted to—”
“Oh, my God.” You laugh abruptly. “You wanna see me naked.”
“Well, I mean, not if you don’t want me to.” He clears his throat, glancing up at the ceiling.
“You’ve seen most of me already,” you remind him.
“Context matters, you know,” he interjects. “Like, yeah, I’ve seen you in bikinis and stuff, but it’s not like we were gonna do anything about it back then. Am I even making sense? Sure, I’ve seen you pretty close to naked, but it wasn’t because of me? Please don’t let me say anything else.”
“Your awkwardness is slightly endearing.” You snort.
He pouts. “Ass.”
You take a step closer to him, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and press your lips against his. He reciprocates immediately, the gentle movement making your brain malfunction. When you pull away, he’s smiling at you.
“You kissed me.”
“Yes, I did,” you confirm. “We’ve kissed quite a bit the last few days.”
“We have, haven’t we?”
You chuckle and grab his wrist to pull him to his room. He follows you without hesitation and closes the door behind you both before he heads to his dresser. He pulls out a shirt for you and one for himself. You turn away from him and switch the top you’re wearing with his T-shirt. The fabric stops right below your ass, and you reach beneath it to unbutton your pants and push them down your legs. Once they’re off, you turn to get into his bed.
You find him in the exact same spot. His lips are slightly parted as his gaze travels down your body. Your entire life you’d been able to admit to yourself that you found Chenle attractive, because you had eyes. Of course, he was. But for him to not only be attracted to you, too, and also be vocal about it has your mind in shambles.
He watches you closely as you climb into his bed and pull the covers over yourself. You avoid looking at him as he changes, and within moments, he’s shuffling closer to you. He leans over you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, to your temple, to your jawline. Nerves spring in your stomach, but you turn your head to see him.
“Is there something you want?” you ask him.
“This is probably the worst time to say this,” he whispers. “But this is real for me. I know it. These feelings keep getting stronger and I—I wasn’t going to even say anything yet, but I had to tell you in case…”
You suddenly feel embarrassment rise to your cheeks. Chenle’s your best friend, but you did just get into his bed wearing his shirt and an admittedly skimpy pair of panties. You turn to face him.
“Before anything serious happened, I wanted to be sure.” He gulps. “Because that’s obviously…a big deal for us both, you know? And regardless of what we said, I think it’d be hard to go back to the way we were if we had sex and weren’t good for each other.”
“You ramble when you’re nervous,” you say.
“I do.” He chuckles.
“It’s real for me, too,” you whisper. Despite it being the complete truth, a lump forms in your throat. You’re not sure where it came from, but you fight it the best you can.
Relief relaxes his facial features, and then he leans forward slowly until his lips brush yours. His eyes threaten to close, but he waits for you to make a decision. You’re not entirely sure what comes over you, but all you know is that you’ve never needed someone on the level you need Chenle.
You complete the kiss, weaving your fingers through his hair as you shift closer to him. Immediately, it’s like everything around you catches on fire, and it’s much too hot to stay as you are. You gasp into his mouth when his hand trails beneath your shirt, his touch leaving those same flames all over your skin. He grabs your ass and squeezes, a shiver rolling down his spine when he swallows your moan.
“You had to know what you were doing with these,” he murmurs as he slides his fingers just beneath the hem of your panties.
His words sink in, but nothing about this feels awkward to you. You’d be embarrassed if he knew how wet you were from his simple touches. All of that is background noise—all you care about is getting closer to him.
“Why isn’t this weird?” you whisper as you slide your hands beneath his shirt to get him to take it off. “We used to cringe at the thought of—”
“Would you kiss me, damn it?” He pulls you back to him, but instead of the urgency you expect, he kisses you gently, his lips slowly moving on yours. You roll, tugging him to take him with you.
Then he’s on top of you, slotted perfectly between your legs with your shirt riding up to expose more and more of your skin. His eyes scan over you, and he moves his hand up your side until you’re lifting yourself up to remove the fabric. A slight pause befalls both of you.
“What is it?” you ask him.
“I just…can’t believe I’ve never realized this before,” he whispers, eyebrows pinching. “How well we work together.”
You smile. “We’re pretty fucking great.”
“This probably sounds cheesy as hell,” he begins and scoffs at himself. “But you’re the most beautiful person I know.”
“Oh, come on.” Your cheeks heat up.
“No, I’m serious. I’ve always known that. You’re fucking radiant on the outside and warm and kind and loving on the inside. Nothing has ever or will ever be able to take that away from you, and I…” he trails off, swollen lips parting as he searches for what he wants to say next. “Don’t ever leave me. Please.”
You reach up to cup his cheeks. “Lele, I’m not going anywhere. It’s you and me now, okay?”
“I’ll be here as long as you want me,” he murmurs as he lowers himself down. “No matter what.”
Chenle kisses you again, softer this time as if this energy between the two of you is fragile. You slide your hand into his hair and allow yourself to melt. Spreading your legs a little further to accommodate him, you pull at the hem of his shirt. He moves away from you only to take it off, and then he presses kisses on your jaw, down your neck. You’re gasping for air by the time he makes it to the swells of your breasts. He leaves open-mouthed kisses along the edge of your bra, allowing his teeth to graze you.
You let your head rest back against his pillows and sigh as he travels further, stopping once he reaches your navel. Your fingers clench the sheets as you prepare yourself for whatever he’s going to do next.
“This is okay?” he hums against your skin.
“Yeah,” you say breathlessly. “Perfect.”
Being in the dark with only the shine of the stars to illuminate the room has this feeling much more intimate than you thought possible. You’d never imagined yourself in this position—literally—with Chenle, but now that you’re here, you wouldn’t change it for the world.
He tongues along the hem of your panties, and you have to stifle your gasp. The chill of the air contrasts with the wetness left on your skin, and goosebumps travel up your body. His fingers loop through the waistband, and without any words from him, you lift your hips up to help him remove them.
Chenle’s lips find your inner thigh, and you can’t hold back the noise that leaves you. It’s been a while since you’ve craved someone’s touch, and you never want his to leave your body. He already feels so different than everyone else. He’s still your best friend, but now he’s so much more, too. You trust him inexplicably, and this moment will change the trajectory of your lives forever.
You feel his breath against your core, and you drop your head back. He shifts and brings his hand up to hold your body down to the mattress, his thumb sliding between your legs to gently nudge your clit.
“Relax,” he tells you. “I’ve got you.”
He seems nervous himself, but after another shuffle, his fingers slide along your entrance. Your back arches as he pushes them inside. His breath shudders as he feels your walls fluttering around him.
“You’re…perfect, (Y/N),” he says, entranced as he slowly thrusts his hand. “So perfect.”
You whine, squeezing your eyes shut as you adjust to the feeling. When he kisses your clit, you grasp harder onto the sheets. Knowing the man pleasuring you is the one person in the world that knows you the most, that knows who you are within your very soul, has you immersed in every movement he makes. Nobody has ever made you feel this way before.
Sounds of your arousal follow his fingers, and he finally wraps his lips around your clit. You let out a loud moan, your back arching at the overwhelming sensations. He sucks on your sensitive bud, flicking his tongue back and forth in a matching pace with his hand. You squirm below him, and your legs begin to shake at the sensation.
He moves just a little faster, his other hand flat on your stomach to keep you from moving too much. You fear any sounds louder than whispered pleasure might shatter this moment between you and Chenle, but as he brings you closer to the edge, you struggle to hold back.
He curls his fingers to find your spot, and your body jerks. When he repeats the action, he moans, the vibrations against your clit sending you to euphoria. You gasp and your eyes roll back. He aids you through your high, carefully bringing you down before pulling away from your core. You practically slump on the mattress, but you lift yourself up to look at him. He sits up on his knees to get a better look at you, and you watch his every move as he lifts his fingers up to his mouth and sucks your arousal from them.
You gulp at the sight of him like this, his length straining against his boxers as his darkened eyes travel over your body. His tongue swipes along his lips one last time, and then he’s climbing over you again. You welcome his kiss despite the taste of yourself.
“I need you,” you tell him, pushing at the band of his boxers. “Can’t wait anymore.”
“Are you sure?” he whispers. “You can tell me if you change your mind.”
You shake your head. “Please, Lele.”
He inhales sharply, and then he’s assisting you in pushing the last barrier of clothing off. “Do we need a condom? I have some.”
“I—” Your face heats up. “I’m on birth control, and I haven’t slept with anyone in…um, a long time, so I’m clean.”
“I got tested recently,” he replies. “I’m clean, too. But this is up to you. Whatever you want is cool with me.”
“Waste of time. I want you now.” You pull him in to kiss him, and he sighs against your mouth.
He reaches down and strokes himself a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. His eyes travel along your body, almost as if he’s verifying you’re real. Slowly, he pushes inside, watching your expression carefully to ensure you’re alright.
Your heart thuds in your chest as he continues to move forward, burying himself deep inside you until he’s flush against you. He gives you a bit to adjust, leaning in to kiss down your neck. His hand snakes beneath your body to unclasp your bra, and you arch to assist him in taking it off.
“‘M good,” you reassure him. “You can move.”
“Just need a second like this,” he returns, dropping his head on your shoulder. “God, you feel so fucking good.”
His words send shivers up your spine, and you put your arms around his shoulders. He kisses you again, and pulls out slowly to push back in. The sensation of him rubbing against your inner walls has you gasping. His pace is slow but you’ve never felt so heavenly in your life. As his tongue parts your lips, you wrap your legs around his waist.
When you call out his name, he curses under his breath. Every time he thrusts in, you lift your hips to meet him, despite how you begin to shake from the intensity of all of it. His chest brushes yours with each movement, and his teeth sink into your bottom lip to pull at it.
Never in your life has anything ever felt like this. As if Chenle was the last piece of the 1,000 piece puzzle you deemed life, and you finally found it after all these years. His soft moans have your toes curling, and despite the knot tying in your stomach, you don’t want this to end.
As if he knows every last thought in your mind, he reaches between you and rubs circles on your clit. You shudder in his grasp and dig your nails into his shoulders. He moves faster, and once his tip slides into your spot, you crumble around him. You throw your head back, a moan tumbling from your lips as you fall apart.
Moments after you, his hips falter as he approaches his high. You kiss him hard, and he groans into your mouth, pushing as far into you as he can to finish. The sensation has you gasping all over again, but you hold onto him for dear life.
He thrusts a couple more times to bring you both back to reality, and as he slows to a stop, he peppers kisses on your face. Neither of you move yet. You bask in the feeling of him inside you, and his hand rubs up and down your thigh.
He carefully removes your legs from around his waist, and then he sighs as he pulls out of you slowly. “Let me grab a towel. Hold on.” With a quick kiss to your forehead, he stands up and slips his boxers back on before walking out of the room.
An inherent sense of peace overwhelms you, and once he comes back, he cleans up the mess between your legs before climbing in bed next to you. He cradles the back of your head to his chest, and he hums quietly.
“Try to get some sleep,” he whispers.
With him close and his heart beating beneath your ear, you don’t even have to try.
The birds chirping outside the window wake you up. You’re still tangled up with Chenle, blanket snug around both of you with you curled into his chest. Shifting closer, you think about going back to sleep until he’s ready to get up, too.
“Morning,” he mutters, voice hoarse from sleep.
You shake your head. “More sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He squeezes you and lets out a sigh of content.
Peaceful silence takes the two of you over, and you can’t help but smile at the thought of how far you both have come. You’re on top of the world—your feelings for Chenle are real, and you’ve discovered something you never thought would be possible.
His fingers trace up and down your spine, a deep hum escaping him. “This is real.”
“Mhm,” you reply. “We’re naked right now.”
“And you’re so fucking soft.” He sighs. “Is there any reason we need to get up today?”
“Wouldn’t matter if there was. Not moving.” You kiss the base of his neck.
“Sounds good to me.”
Despite the prospect of being wrapped up in each other all day, eventually, both of you get hungry. He takes you to one of the local diners for breakfast, and you study him closely while he sips his coffee and looks through the menu.
You expected some aspect of your relationship with him to be awkward at this point, but nothing has changed between you. Well, with the exception that every time you see his fingers, heat rises to your cheeks. Besides that, you’re perfectly normal.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks without removing his eyes from the menu.
“Who, me?”
He finally glances up, a smile playing on his lips. “Yes, (Y/N), you.”
“Well.” You clear your throat. “I’m just…thinking.”
“I put that together.” He tips his cup to his lips again.
“What do we do from here?” you blurt out, immediately dropping your head into your palm.
He chuckles and clasps his hands together over the table. “I was waiting for you to bring it up. But if we both know it’s real, and we’ve…gone as far as we have, um, I was hoping we’d be together.”
“That doesn’t scare you?” you ask.
“Does it scare you?” he counters.
You shake your head. “Not at all.”
“Full transparency, then. That’s what I want. I want us to be together and, as insufferable as they are, I want our families to know, too. And I want it to be us against the world, (Y/N). We can do whatever we want.”
“I guess that also brings us to what happens next month.” You look down at your lap. “When I’m supposed to go back to work.”
He gulps but waits for you to continue.
“What if…What if I didn’t go back?” you start. “Think about it. We could stay here.”
“You want to come live here?”
“I…I guess I just—” You pause in an attempt to gather your thoughts. “After everything with Jay, it made me realize how long I’ve really been gone. And being back here…I missed it a little. You and my family and the town itself. I don’t want to miss any part of anyone else’s life. I really did Jay a disservice by not coming around as often as I should’ve.”
“You’d give up all of that work you did for me?” He frowns.
“It’s not just for you, but yes. I don’t fully enjoy what I do. It’s all work and it takes up all my time. Why do that when I could do something around here and get to spend actual free time with you?”
He reaches across the table and grasps your hand. “There’s always room for you with me, but I want you to be sure about something like that. You’ve worked so hard, and if you’re changing your mind because of us, I don’t want to come between you and your dreams.”
“I’ve been thinking about it before we started this,” you tell him. “From the second I heard about Jay. I certainly don’t want you out here by yourself.”
“Don’t think we could swing long distance?” He cracks a smile.
“Ridiculous.” You scoff and take a drink of your coffee. “We have some time. Let’s think about it later, alright?”
“Agreed.”
After breakfast, Chenle leads you out of the restaurant with your fingers intertwined. You try not to blush at the simple gesture, but you can’t help it. He leads you to the passenger side of his car, and you lean back against the metal. The distance between you two is almost non-existent, and his hand rests on your waist.
“You’re sure you don’t care if people know?” he asks.
“Positive.” You grin.
He cups your cheek, smiling back at you as he strokes your skin with his thumb. After, he leans in and kisses you. Oxygen is stolen from your lungs, but you relish in the feeling of him. The sun feels warmer, the day a little brighter, and your heart a little fuller.
You never expected this to be the answer—for you to find a different kind of solace in your best friend, but you’re here anyway.
He winks at you once he pulls away, earning him a slap on the chest. After you roll your eyes, he opens the door for you and guides you into the car.
By the time you make it back to his house, he leads you inside. You’re barely a few feet within the door when both of your phones start buzzing. He takes his out of his pocket, shows you it’s his mother calling, laughs, and tosses it on the couch. You follow his lead, and then he grabs your hand and pulls you towards his room.
“If you thought you were going to make it out of here for long, you were mistaken.” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him. “I have plans for us today. Our schedule’s booked actually, and it mostly involves us in my bed.”
“Luckily for you, that’s exactly what I was hoping for.”
“Oh, good. Hopefully, they don’t decide to come here. Probably not the show they thought they’d be signing up for.” He ponders the thought for a moment.
“Shame on them for not respecting our privacy,” you mutter, grasping onto the back of his neck. “Maybe it’ll teach them to back off a little.”
“You’re so right,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you.
Tugging you closer, he whirls you around to walk you back toward his bed, where you’re more than ready to spend the next few hours.
Later that night, you and Chenle are ready for bed, with you curled into his chest. He runs his fingers through your hair, humming quietly. You don’t recognize the melody, but he relaxes you all the same.
“Do you think this ever would’ve happened if Jay were still here?” you ask him as you trace shapes on his shoulder.
He purses his lips in thought. “I’d like to think so.”
“Me, too,” you admit. “This feels…like things were always supposed to be this way.”
“I can’t imagine it any other way now.” He takes a deep breath. “I needed this. You. And I can’t believe there was a time where we weren’t like this.”
You move so you’re resting on top of him, chests pressed together. He clasps his hands together over the small of your back.
“He’d be happy for us, right?” You scan over his face, tracing over his cheekbones with your finger.
“Of course,” Chenle says without hesitation. “I think he’d be asking a bunch of questions right now. Like how we knew, what we were gonna do about all of this, if he’s going to be the man of honor or the best man.”
“God, he so would.” You laugh.
“And he’d be insufferable about it, too.”
“He’d be the man of honor, by the way. I was his favorite.”
Chenle’s smile grows. “I love you.”
Your heart stops in your chest, and your lips part as you stare at him in shock. Although, you should’ve expected it. You fell for him, too, but hearing it verbalized is a whole new story you’ve never considered before.
Hell, the two of you frequently told each other those three words, but you know now they hold much more importance than they ever have.
“You…”
“Yeah, I do.” He nods.
“Like…romantically?”
“You’re such a loser,” he teases you. “Yes, romantically. Don’t make me take it back now.”
“I’ll be sad if you take it back, ass.” You narrow your eyes at him. “And I love you, too, if that wasn’t clear.”
He squeezes you tightly, chuckling when the air rushes from your lungs. While you never quite expected things to work out this way, you wouldn’t change what’s become of your relationship with Chenle. He was—and is—your best friend, and for some reason, all you can do is look forward to the future, where he’ll be more. Best friend always, but also the one you love.
The last couple weeks before you’re supposed to return to work are hectic to say the least. It feels as if you and Chenle are rushing to figure things out—where the two of you will stand when you leave and what you’ll do in the meantime.
So, in an attempt to get your minds distracted, you opt to go have a couple drinks with Jay. Of course, you had to stop and get his favorite beer—the same one you’d always hated and that Chenle’s not too fond of, but for Jay, you would endure it.
He brings a blanket. When you find Jay’s headstone, he spreads out the fabric and waits for you to sit before he joins you. You grasp onto his hand, and his knee bumps yours, but that’s the only physical contact you have with him.
Chenle opens up three cans—one for him, one for you, and one for Jay.
This isn’t the first time you’ve done this together, but it very well be the last. You don’t want to leave him. Not really. But he refused to let you give up what you’d worked hard for. You escaped the town, and he didn’t want you to even think about coming back when you’ve got so much left to do in your new city.
Chenle sips the drink, cringing at the taste. “Can’t believe he liked this shit.”
“He had peculiar tastes, that’s for sure.” You chuckle and refrain from touching your own. “You think he can really hear us when we’re talking to him like this?”
“Stranger things have happened,” he replies.
“That’s the truth,” you tease him and nudge his shoulder. “Maybe we should break the news to Jay.”
He takes the third can and dumps some over the grass. You both watch as it absorbs, and once Chenle’s satisfied, he purses his lips.
“You’ve missed a lot, dude.” He lets out a long sigh. “Almost three months without you feels unreal.”
You squeeze his hand and send a soft smile his way.
He continues, “But I seriously think you’d be pissed at us if we admitted we were still sad, so…(Y/N) and I are…together. Like, we’re dating. And to be honest, we’re both not too sure where it came from, but we keep each other sane after all this stuff.”
You loop your arm through his and rest your head on his shoulder. Fighting back tears, you realize how much you’d missed as well. There were stories you had yet to hear. Some you’d never get the chance to.
“I’d like to think you’d be happy for us.” You chuckle and take another drink. “You and this God awful beer.”
“I can almost hear him defending it right now.” Chenle sends a dazzling grin your way, and you watch him fondly. You never imagined coming back home would lead to all of this.
You and Chenle talk to Jay for a while. The sun shines pleasantly against your skin, warmth seeping into your bones. Chenle tells the story of you two falling for each other, how it was gradual and unexpected. Things had simply shifted, and everything became much more than you’d ever imagined.
When the sun begins to set, you wrap up your time with Jay. All three cans are empty. You grab them while Chenle folds the blanket, and then you head back to his car. His arm is firmly around your waist, and you fight the urge to melt into him.
As soon as you’re inside his house, he drops the blanket and takes the objects from your hands. Next thing you know, you’re wrapped up in one of the tightest hugs Chenle’s ever given you. You reciprocate the best you can, threading your fingers through his hair to soothe him.
“You okay?” you ask him.
“Yeah. Just wanna hold you for a sec.”
You hum in agreement, allowing yourself to melt into his grip. He kisses the top of your head, and when he pulls away to look at you, a fond gleam appears in his eyes.
“I’ve been thinking,” he says.
“Uh oh,” you interject, fighting your grin as he purses his lips in faux annoyance.
“What if I went with you?”
You recoil. “What?”
“I’ve wanted to get away from this place. You made it out. Let’s go together.” He looks at you earnestly as he awaits your response. “I love you, (Y/N). Being apart from you isn’t exactly what I want at this point.”
“You want…to move with me?”
“If you’re okay with it.” Chenle nods. “Think of the life we could build together. A real one that’s not influenced by the crazy ass people in this town.”
You flounder for words to say. This is the last thing you expected from him, but maybe you should’ve thought of this yourself. Chenle had run into a hard time because he’d wanted out for so long. You could help him.
“I don’t want you to give up everything you’ve worked for. Living here isn’t in the cards for you right now, and I understand that. But we both have an opportunity here. You keep doing what you set out to do, but this time, we don’t have to be apart.” He fiddles with the seam of your shirt, almost nervously avoiding your gaze.
“Okay.” You take a deep breath. “If you’re sure that’s what you want, come with me.”
He grins so widely, you’re almost worried it hurts. Cupping your cheeks, he kisses you hard, and you almost stumble backwards.
This was the beginning of a new journey for both of you. Neither of you were sure what to do without Jay around, and you wouldn’t feel right leaving Chenle all by himself. If he wanted to come with you, you’d be more than happy to have him.
You’ll get him out of this town he’s come to resent, and he’ll be by your side for every success and failure.
There’s something special about falling for your best friend—about loving someone who you’d already loved and known so thoroughly, it’s mostly as if nothing changed at all. Maybe this part of your relationship with him was always there, and you’d both been too blind to see it.
All you know is, after a clear shift in energy, things between you and Chenle became real.
You wonder about Jay. If he sees the two of you, if he’s proud of you. At the end of the day, you could spiral until your brain gives out, but if there’s one thing you could expect from Jay, it’s that he’ll never stop checking in on you and Chenle. Your group is incomplete without him, but you’ll learn to live in a different manner.
With Chenle by your side, there’s not a damn thing in the world that could bring you down.
#nct dream#chenle#nct#nct dream smut#nct imagines#nct smut#chenle smut#nct scenarios#chenle angst#chenle fluff#nct dream fluff#nct fluff#nct dream angst#nct angst#nct imagine#nct scenario#chenle scenarios#chenle imagines#chenle imagine
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DND au looks so fun i hope nothing happens to them i love them dearly
I was gonna draw something really fucked up of the party suffering but there's really nothing bad that happens (aside from Lamb getting decapitated like in the actual game). It's fr just an AU for my needs of characters hanging out
Here have this thing (don't look too long ♡ i drew it in a rush ♡)
Image Description: A sketched out comic showcasing the Goat and Lamb from the video game Cult Of The Lamb, drawn differently from their appearance in the original game.
The first panel shows the Goat standing on guard wearing huge gauntlets, looking down at a spider standing on one of their fists. The spider is drawn with a tiny crown on its head and is saying "18... does not hit". Next to it is a panel of the Lamb up close, looking back at the Goat, yelling "You can't get to him, Graham ! Use a spell with a skill check !"
Below follows a panel of the Goat with a neutral expression, saying "huh..." while another speech bubble from the Lamb says "Graham."
Last is a closer panel of the Goat's face, drawn more detailed, bearing a wicked grin with their fists closer up. Another bubble says "Graham I swear to god." which comes from a panel next to it; showing human characters sitting at a table covered in paper and dice. One of them has their hands intertwined in front of their face, hidding a smirk. The other is looking at them with wide eye and concern.
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Did you know you can help kick beloathed plagiarist, James Somerton, off Patreon?
Go to:
https://support.patreon.com/hc/en-us/requests/new
and fill out a form!
Here's how I filled mine out:
For "Please choose a request type below:", you can click "I want to report suspicious activity".
Add your email. You may need to have an email linked to a Patreon account to fill out "Your Patreon Email Address", but I'm not sure if they actually check that.
For "Please select the issue that best describes your situation", click "General" -> "I want to report a fake/suspicious account".
Enter his Patreon Page URL: "https://www.patreon.com/Jamessomertonx"
For "Subject", I put: "James Somerton is a plagiarist and scammer".
And for "Description", I wrote: "James Somerton is on record as having plagiarized heavily in all of the content he has created. He previously had a Patreon account where he made lots of money scamming people by pretending to be a writer and video essayist. He has also stolen $80,000 USD from supporters in Indiegogo through his "production company", Telos Pictures. This studio has produced nothing and never will, it is a scam. Patreon should not be allowing a known scammer to make money on their website with whatever his latest scam will be."
If you wanna find screenshots of evidence of him being a scammer, feel free to attach them to the report.
Then hit submit!
I don't know if the support team will actually listen, but it's worth taking a couple of minutes to show this guy we won't let him keep stealing from queer creators.
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If you haven't voted in my poll about that call in Disco Elysium, please check it out here. I appreciate all those who have responded so far.
Now, I want to talk a little more about Harry's phone calls. Disco Elysium spoilers ahead.
I think it's very sad that a lot of players miss out on the phone calls. Not just that one but the ones before and even after it.
There's the call you can make near Evrart's office, where you first hear of the video store. You have been holding a video hostage for five years now. Its description?
Sounds familiar, doesn't it?
"'No wonder no one's been missing it.'"
By the boardwalk, everyone on the line is lonely. There's a woman who doesn't seem to be in her right mind. A woman Harry whose loneliness we understand all too well.
There's that call I've talked about before.
One thing I didn't say about that call is that, if you just choose another option, if you don't pretend you're sleeping with his wife, he seems perfectly normal. Pleasant, even.
That might be the scariest thing of all.
Then there's a man desperate for money. Someone we have the option to try to be kind to, even though things don't go as planned.
There is a disillusioned man lost in his own work.
Then, of course, there's that call. The most desperate one of all.
Worse yet, Lt. Kitsuragi never even hears us. We're somewhere too far for him to reach.
Go ahead. Call again. Now Empathy speaks up.
"Stop scaring her."
"'No wonder no one's been missing it.'"
"'We could all be a bit kinder to each other, don't you think?'"
"'It gets lonely even when you're with people.'"
"The lieutenant is too far away to hear your yelp."
"'There is nothing.'"
"'Harry, please...'"
"What in the name of god did you just do?"
#disco elysium#disco elysium spoilers#harry du bois#kim kitsuragi#dora ingerlund#the ex-something#dolores dei#please answer my poll#i am so curious
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