#the 2 names for that season have always been funny to me

[shencomix]

[devilmademewriteit]

Let Me Love You Like A Woman (Let Me Hold You Like A Baby)

part 3 of Dark But Just A Game

pairing: (pre-ellie) joel miller x afab!fem!reader

summary: you’re in his place. you’re in his bed. will joel ever be anything more than your dad’s friend who occasionally fucks his frustrations into you, or will you always be strangers?

warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, oral [m receiving] fem penetration, unprotected sex) so 18+ only content; fem afab reader; mentions of reader having long hair; pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel); dubcon (power imbalance); age gap; dbf!joel; angst; mentions of murder and torture.

beta reader: @millllenniawrites loml forever

word count: 4.1k

no use of y/n in this fic

Click here to read part 1, Dark but Just a Game. 

Click here to read part 2, Pretty When You Cry. 

(neither are totally necessary if u just wanna read some filth, fluff, n angst, all u rly need to know is that they’ve fucked twice before & he’s dad’s best friend lol).

a/n: thank u for all the support on this series. i’m literally so obsessed with all of you it’s not even funny. enjoy this while we collectively grieve the end of the season, & i’ll be here writing fic in the meantime. Don’t forget to join the taglist for any and all upcoming work! -em <333333

—

It had taken all of ten seconds for you to lose your shirt, your jeans, and your most beloved pair of (now ruined) panties after stepping foot in Joel Miller’s apartment.

“‘Fuckin’ soaked already—been thinkin’ about me all day, huh?”

And those tantalizing fingers. They were third on the list of things you thought about when you touched yourself, right after his cock and the insatiable look that haunted his eyes when he was inside you. Joel’s talents were wasted as a smuggler—he’d have made a fantastic pianist or maybe a guitarist with the way that index and that damned thumb conspired to make you sing for him.

“Anyone else touch you here since me?“ “No, Joel—just you—only you.” “Attagirl.”

He’d gotten you fully naked (something he’d never bothered to do before) and writhing in his grip in a matter of seconds, laying rough kisses down your spine with patience and attention. Every single one was a spoken promise: I’m coming back for you.

“Look at you, baby, takin’ a real man all by yourself.”

Hands on your hips, knees pressed to the worn-in mattress—every other word in the English language omitted itself from your vocabulary as Joel drew his name from your lips over and over and over again, the thick length of his cock easing you to oblivion with every gratifying stroke.

“Gonna make this pussy come til’ you’re begging me to stop, sweetheart.”

Feeling his cum drip down your thigh, barely having a second to breathe before being manhandled onto your back, hands searching your body, mapping you out like a foreign land before taking him in again. “It aches, Joel.” Crying softly into his neck, tears of pain and ecstasy leaking down your cheeks. “M’jus’ breakin’ you in, angel.” The smell of his hair anchoring your senses to right here, right now as release washes over you again and again and oh, Joel’s hands on the outsides of your thighs to steady your shaking legs.

“Eyes up baby, wanna see ‘em while I’m comin’ on that pretty face.”

Joel tasted like salt and sin and his stickiness on your cheeks felt warm like a late august sun. Watching you blink your lust-filled and trust-filled eyes, grabbing a fistful of your tangled hair, Joel memorized the way your pouting mouth looked painted with his seed. Thick, dark eyebrows creasing together as a groaned ‘fuckin’ hell’ fell from his open lips—with you, he became an artist, and with him, you were a blank canvas.

Now, the moonlit room was quiet; with every primal need purged from both your systems, your exhausted bodies lay entangled, empty and content. Joel’s heartbeat had settled a few minutes after yours—you’d made note of it with your ear pressed to his chest. But every twitch or fidget from the hand resting on the curve of your waist had your own rhythm picking up double-time, sending hot blood coursing through every now-aching limb.

“You should go,” he grumbles after a while, eyes still closed, body still at rest. Fucking you had basically rendered the man comatose. “Your dad’ll raise hell if he sees an empty bed.”

You scoff. “It’s not like he’s ever cared before—remember when Emma and I snuck out to the old mall and I radio’ed him to get us out?” Joel chuckles, remembering the fond memory. After all, it had been him and not your old man who’d shown up to kick down those crumbling cinema doors, partly rescuing you but mostly reaming you out for being such a careless, stupid teenager.

“And either way, Miller, I’m an adult.”

This time, it’s Joel’s turn to scoff. “Jus’ ‘cause you’re legal, dun’ make you an ‘adult.’ You still whine like a kid.”

You giggle softly as he mocks your indignant tone, feeling the lungs beneath you rumble subtly, too.

Joel was always softest and at his most vulnerable after sex. Well, aren’t all men the same? You figured it was just the nature of the act that left its participants a little more tender and a little less inhibited after its completion. It was strange to remember that Joel was a man like any other.

And the man that you’d allowed to ruin you so skillfully, to burn himself on the archives of your mind, somehow remained a complete mystery to you. He was a tangled web of stifled emotions, unspoken sentences, and chilling stories you’d heard from your inebriated father.

If there was any time to untangle him, it was now.

Joel’s t-shirt is damp with his sweat, and yours, too. What a shame that he hadn’t removed it earlier. He was so very impatient when it came to fucking you, and despite having enough patience this time to get you naked, he didn’t bother to give himself that same treatment. At this point, you felt too self-conscious to ask, pretty well certain that he’d turn down your request, anyways. Peeling your profile from the navy blue fabric, you gaze up at him inquisitively, a steadying hand pressed tentatively against his broad chest.

“Can I ask you something?”

Your voice sounds small, like that of a scared child. It makes you cringe.

“Hmph,” he grunts, eyes firmly closed.

Better than nothing. A start.

“Well,” you begin, painfully slowly, tracing timid circles under his collarbone, “Sometimes, I think—”

“S’great, sweetheart,” he interjects in mock earnestness. “Good for you.”

“Knock it off, Miller,” you slap his shoulder playfully. A sly, amused expression teases his features.

After a long, heavy pause, with only the trickling and creaking of the old building occupying it, you soldier on.

“Sometimes, I think that when you’re… well, fucking me… you, well, you kind of use me to—vent.” There. You’d said it. “Like, your frustrations.”

A long exhalation escapes Joel’s lips as he mulls over your words, choosing eventually to respond with cautious and dismissive humor.

“This your way of askin’ me if you’re more’n my human Xanax?”

“No, asshole.”

He hums quietly. The distant sound of a gunshot travels through the open window, dragging you both back to the present moment.

A forced sigh. “I wanted to ask you what you’re trying to get off your mind.”

Joel tenses almost imperceptibly underneath you, an air of seriousness collecting around him.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he grumbles, amusement fading from his tone. “M’not really interested in talkin’ about our feelings together.”

The harshness of his words only entices you to push him again, to understand the man who so clearly understood you. There was something there–likely many things there–that he had fucked into you. Things that you now need to know. Things calling to you like an abandoned childhood home.  

You want to pull him into yourself, crawl under his very skin and exist there for a minute or two. In his bed, in his place, and you’re still worlds apart.

“I’m not asking you to talk about your feelings, Miller. I just want to know that I’m not letting, like, a total, raging maniac climb between my knees.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. His eyes flit open, and as soon as they do, you recognize the vacant, apathetic expression that had characterized him for you all these years. He grunts, pushing himself up on his elbows, and you sit up, yanking at the tangled sheets to cover yourself.

“Ever been outside the QZ, sweetheart?” He asks, his poorly restrained temper slicing through his words.

Looking down at your hands, you trace the cream-colored creases stretching along the blanket, shaking your head no, side to side.

“S’right. Not a single man on this planet that’s not a total, raging maniac. Enough fear, thirst, or hunger…” something truly terrifying creeps onto his expression, a vision of darkness, unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Not with soldiers, not with your father, not even with Joel.

“Everyone’s a killer.”

You swallow slowly, trailing your eyes up to meet his charged gaze. The room feels cold.

“Are you?”

His shadowed eyes narrow with irritation. “Am I what, sweetheart?”

“A killer.”

Then it’s regret and violence corrupting his features, and before you know it, Joel Miller is somewhere else. It takes a long time for him to come back to you (if you can even pretend to claim that Joel had ever been with you in the first place).

He hesitates, huffing quickly with frustration and looking away for a brief moment before focussing back on you—conceding to your question with a quick nod.

An acidic taste collects on your tongue, but his answer isn’t surprising. You’d always known in some way that Joel had taken lives. Still, it felt strange to hear him acknowledging it, to see the pain that admitting to it caused him. His actions actually bothered him. That meant he had a soul in some jagged, twisted form and that certain things could affect it. Thinking about that made your temples hurt.

“For what reason?”

You can’t help it—you’d come this far, and it felt like failure to quit prying. It doesn’t matter that Joel’s a grenade with no safety lever. You know it’s only a matter of time before he explodes, but you’d grown up diffusing your father daily. Bombs were your specialty.

“Does it matter?”

Upstairs, the floorboards creak softly. It almost makes you jump.

“I think so.”

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, brow furrowing with irritation. Otherwise, he stays surprisingly level. Some hopeful part of you tries to whisper that some softer part of him actually wants you to get under his skin.

“Alright.” You stare at him, stunned at his forfeiture, as he breathes a dark, humorless laugh. “But you’re gonna hate me for my answer.”

There’s a loaded pause as you gape expectantly at him. His head falls back, eyes fixed to the chipping, washed-out ceiling.

“In the early days of the outbreak, before FEDRA had the QZs figured out… things weren’t easy. You gotta understand that.” His gravelly voice cuts through the room’s silence, vibrating through your stilled body. “I’ve killed, tortured, n’hurt more people’n I can count. Sometimes to save myself, sometimes someone else, ‘n other times… other times jus’ because. And,” he groans, laying his back against the pillows as his harrowing monologue comes to a close, “It wasn’t always life or death, either.”

You pull the sheets in close to your chest, shuddering partly due to his words, partly due to his delivery. As if he was warning you. As if he wanted you to hear the truth and…

And punish him for it.

With his eyes shutting again, he can’t see you studying him. He’s probably assumed that a look of abject horror has poisoned your complexion. As you angle yourself to view his resting body—the pained expression causing his eyebrows to furrow, lips pressed tightly together—an overwhelming rush of adoration expands in your lungs, swelling inexplicably and uncontrollably in your chest. Your thoughts blare at full blast inside your racing mind.

Joel was capable; he had blood lust and an inner violence that meant he felt, deeply, and he’d die—or even better, kill—for those he loved. He was…

Joel was perfect.

Maybe it was a fucked up thing to feel—maybe it meant that you needed to be studied by a team of psychiatrists. Either way, the thought of his agonized soul, carrying on out of sheer spite and a reluctant desire to protect his own had you melting at his side. Joel wasn’t static, unfeeling, or a ghost, he was real, and he was alive. Growing up in a near-dead world haunted by once vibrant cities had made that trait alone extremely precious.

He remains still while you move his arm, wiggling next to him to sit back on your calves and looming over his unyielding form. Maybe he thinks you’ve pulled a gun on him and is just giving you a chance to pull the trigger.

Dropping the pale sheet from your breasts, you caress Joel’s harsh jaw in one hand, sneaking the other down, down his stomach and under the waistband of his briefs.

His eyes surge open, finding yours and filling with confusion. You burn with affection, a kind of fierceness that wasn’t there before.

Brow creasing, eyelids fluttering as he hardens in your grasp. You wordlessly entice him once again, bowing down and over to press tender kisses to his neck.

“I could never hate you, Joel Miller.”

He whimpers softly as you stroke him—tantalizingly slow in big, long pulls—it makes your heart flutter to hear him whine for you. 

A refreshing reversal of roles.

You ease your way down, trailing your lips down his scarred side and over to his front, exploring the strip of grey hair marking the center of his abdomen.

Joel watches you, longing on his lips, but the uncertainty still lingers. You need him to listen.

“I’d kill and torture if it meant survival—” you arrive at his hard length, pumping it in your hand right next to your softened features.

“And I would kill and torture for you.”

Without breaking eye contact, you part your lips around the tip of his cock, drinking in his fascination as you take him in slowly, wholly. The head of his thick, impressive length kisses the back of your throat. 

Once again, you’re filled with Joel. 

A soft hiss, and then his face becomes a symphony of pleasure, disbelief, and, finally, hunger. His large hand caresses the back of your head, capable fingers tangling softly in your hair as you glide up and down his length, tasting the salt of his pre-cum and your own acidity on his satin-smooth skin.

He only parts from your stare when you draw lazy, adoring circles around his tip, throwing his head back and grinding out a ‘Jesus Christ.’

It’s almost too much for him when you start using your hands, making it your life’s purpose to eagerly please every inch, every square millimeter of him. You drag your tongue from the base of his length all the way up to the top, silver-lined eyes boring intensely into his own.

“Shoulda let you do this sooner,” he breathes, gently pushing your head down until your nose brushes against those dark, curly hairs. “Look so fuckin’ pretty with a mouth full of cock.”

There he is.

You pull off him, strings of saliva trailing down from your lips to the glistening tip of his length. “You wanna come on my tongue?”

In a haze, perfectly slowly, Joel throws his head back with a low growl. You stroke him affectionately, spit and his own salt collecting between your fingers as you wait patiently for his reply.

Then he pushes himself up to a sitting position, wrapping his rough hands around your upper arms and easing you up off his length. “Not this time, baby.” You’re straddling him, taking in the unfamiliar care spoiling his tone and softening his hard features when he leans forward, locking you in place like a missing puzzle piece he’d spent his whole damn life searching for. His cock rests between your bodies, pressing exquisitely against your abdomen.

“Only got one more in me, sweetheart. M’not plannin’ on wastin’ it.”

He lifts his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks between them like some kind of priceless, fascinating object. It all feels so paradoxical: innocent despite the filthiness of his words, gentle despite the forest fires blazing in his gaze. Searching your eyes, he runs the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone. 

And he kisses you.

It’s not bruising at first—it’s a soft, curious question, an experiment. The grey-flecked hair of his mustache brushes the crescent of your Cupid’s bow, and the feeling almost brings you to tears. So you lean into it, deepening the kiss with hard pressure, searching for the answer on his tongue. That’s when his hands tangle in your hair, and his lips steal the oxygen right out from your lungs as he reciprocates fiercely.

It’s like watching a prisoner take his first steps out into the sun after being held in isolation for a decade. You wonder if it had been that long for Joel.

Without breaking away, you trail a hand down the fabric of his t-shirt. Then, you’re grabbing it from the bottom and hitching it up his abdomen. He pulls away just a half-inch to meet your heavy-lidded gaze, his own marked with apprehension.

“I want all of you,” you plead breathlessly, sliding off his starved lips.

Joel ducks his head, staring at the meeting place between your fingers and his cotton.

“If…” he tries, words clumsy, voice gruff. A bit of bashful humour underscores his tone, too. “F’I let that happen, you’ll see that I’m really jus’ an old man, angel.” You begin to protest, having come prepared with another I-like-them-old-and-decrepit speech, but he cuts you off, anticipating your reaction. “Jus’ been a long time since I looked fit enough for somethin’ like you.”

It’s almost too ridiculous. Joel Miller, worried about how you’ll receive his appearance after you’d deep-throated him for admitting to Geneva-convention levels of violent crime.

This time, it's your turn to cup his face, cradling him reverently between your hands with passionate devotion.

“You and me might be different on the outside,” you begin, surprising yourself with the conviction dripping from your own tone. “But deep down? I’m just as rotten as you.”

His mouth breaks into a genuine smile, and he chuckles, creases lining the corners of his eyes as if carved there by God’s own hand. Nodding with concession, he shrugs his shirt off; you reach out to help him to pull it off entirely.

Scars, definition, and tan skin stretch with every shaky breath he takes. Fuck. The tips of your fingers explore him, honoured by the feel of likely being the first in ages to claim this spot, and that one, and this one here, too–Joel’s turned you into a conquistador, a crusader.

“You’re so, so handsome, Joel.”

It’s not enough to see him, wholly exposed, flesh-blood-skin-scars-and-muscle. Nothing’s ever made you feel so safe and so warm; Joel is a worn-out, hand-me-down jacket that you can’t seem to part with; he’s candles during a thunderstorm, a thick blanket begging you to wrap yourself in it. You want him on you, against you, inside you.

So you take the man, and you kiss him—ardently.

His breathing hitches when you grasp his length, and it stops completely when you slide it between your slick folds, pulling every inch of him inside yourself appreciatively. You swallow his groan as he inhales your gasp.

Your hips move together in tandem. Rocking against his thighs as his hands anchor into your hair, or on your breasts, your ass, your waist—Joel holds you as close to himself as physically possible, threatening to crush you between his arms, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip with a starving kind of need.

Old habits die hard. Joel gets swept up in the way you start struggling to kiss him back, the involuntary clenches of your cunt around his impossibly hard cock, and your helpless fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. Sliding his hands under your ass, he holds your hips steady. Then, he’s spreading you open to receive him more readily, dictating the rhythm, the angle, and the brutality of how he fucks you.

Ruining you to completion was quickly becoming an addiction.

He smiles against your mouth when you give him a muffled “mmm,” releasing your lips to watch, a captivated audience, as your eyebrows knit together, relishing the sound of your lungs filling with short, pleading gasps.

“Gonna be bruised inside n’ out, baby.” Joel’s promise barely registers over the clap of his skin against yours and your own wanton moans. A thoroughly cock-drunken expression and the worship of his name on your tongue win you some hard-earned praise.

“Taken me so many times tonight—been such a good lil’ toy.”

Your lips slide down the stubble and the rough skin of his cheek, limp body giving out with every punishing snap of his hips. Still, you attempt speech, stammering out a “Joel, I-I want—” that’s mostly unintelligible.

“I know, baby,” he coos, words muffled by your hair, hot breath fanning out over the valley of your neck. “S’hard to use your words when you’re jus’ so full, huh?”

After finding the strength to straighten up and face him, your mouth moves from its permanent ‘ah’ shape to string together a pleading, desperate sentence. Joel doesn’t make it easy for you, picking up the intensity of his strokes, dragging you to the edge of bliss.

“I wanna—I want you to show me how to ride you—to take you—please—let me make you come.”

He laughs softly into your shoulder: the sight and the sound of a woman begging to do the work was a kind of rarity (albeit an appreciated one, at his age) in his experience. Acquiescing, he lowers you back onto his broad thighs, slowing his rhythm, and giving you a chance to catch your shallow, uneven breath.

“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

Like a true cocky bastard, Joel leans back against the mess of strewn pillows, casually tucking his hands behind his head and leaving you to steady yourself on top of him, velvet walls still fluttering and squeezing adoringly around him.

You hold yourself up with your palms pressed flat against his chest. Rock slowly and carefully against his hips, observe the sight of your fingernails pressing into his unyielding chest. A whimper tumbles from your sore, parted lips as Joel’s tip nudges your inner-most sensitive spot.

“Eyes on me.”

Hardened hands reach out to circle your waist. “You look at me when you’re riding,” he instructs.

“Show me how grateful you are for this cock.”

His voice is strict and firm but gentle all the same. Joel relaxes underneath you. It feels good—so good—to watch your body undoing his own; it feels even better when he flexes involuntarily inside you, stretching open your sore, aching, and somehow still needy cunt. Locked into his lustful, dominant gaze, you speed up, throwing your hips back to grind enthusiastically against him. He watches first your eyes and then your breasts, palming them, teasing your hardened nipples roughly.

“You wanna touch yourself?”

Low and gravelly and filthy, his question looms over your body, only adding to the soft thud drumming inside the eager bundle of nerves between your thighs. 

He makes you realize that you really, really do.

You nod eagerly at him; Joel gives you a knowing expression of sympathy.

He never could help his condescension at watching you crumble so easily from so little.

“Show me, angel.”

So you do–Joel holds you steady as your hand falls to your clit, drawing clumsy circles over that one aching spot. Your fingers are frustratingly unskilled compared to his, but at this level of arousal, you’ll do anything to ease that mounting pressure. You focus hard, multitasking through your euphoria.

Him watching as you pleasure yourself excites you. Squeezing him harder, riding him with newfound passion—Joel groans as his long-awaited orgasm builds between his thighs, watching you bounce up and down his tense, throbbing length. His darkening eyes beckon you to keep going, to tip him over the edge.

You want to fall into them when he comes inside you.  

He knocks your hand away, replacing your index and middle fingers with a broad, calloused, impatient thumb against your grateful bud. “Ohmygod–Joel–” and the rush worsens, his fingers acting as catalysts for the all-too-familiar sensations spreading across your core.

“With me, baby,” his voice is gruff, restrained by need, want, lust. “Lemme feel you comin’ when I fill you up–s’it, good fuckin’ girl–”

Tears collect on your lashes, and a sob heaves from your throat. You reach your climax for him, the ache from your clit spreading to overtake every inch of your body. Joel comes too. He tucks your head into the soft, damp skin of his neck and fists the hair at the back of your head. Your legs ache with absence the moment he pulls his fingers away from your core. Still, his only instinct as his seed spills between your walls is to pull you into himself as tightly as possible, to intertwine himself wholly and eternally with your young, devoted soul.

He doesn’t let you move after it’s over. One arm circles your waist, the other snakes up your back; it feels like standing at the base of the pearly gates of heaven. When his laborious exhales brush the top of your spine, it’s those damn angels sighing.

And it feels like he’s here. It feels like you’ve landed somewhere together, no longer strangers but something else. Something new. Something stronger. Sweeter. And worlds more dangerous.

Joel Miller running his thumb up and down the plunge of your neck. Joel Miller cursing himself for allowing you to take a hammer and chisel to the walls he’d spent painstaking years putting up, eternities before you were even born.

Joel Miller realizing that he can’t find it in himself to let you leave.

“For the record, sweetheart—I’d torture n’ kill for you, too.”

You have no trouble believing him, smiling softly against his shoulder.

—

TAGLIST: @mads-grace4 @anyas-stuff @liviloo12346 @bookofbee @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @stardust-chords-enthusiast @fruitcupsworld @sallymilkweed @maudlinflowers @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @daydreamerblues @spacelatinos4life @totallynotastanacc @honeycovered-bandaids @daddy-din @cedricbitch @tiredbuthappy @sweetpea99 @ghostfanwriter @daixylie @witchy-jadda @ninebluehearts @jbcalway @jasminedragoon @inkedells @ayehomo @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett

—

Tumblr on mobile loves to destroy my fics by screwing with the last few hundred words SO here are the lyrics to Let Me Love You Like a Woman by Lana Del Rey lmao <3

I come from a small town, how about you? I only mention it 'cause I'm ready to leave LA And I want you to come Eighty miles North or South will do I don't care where as long as you're with me And I'm with you and you let me

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in poems and songs Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me hold you like a baby

I come from a small town far away I only mention it 'cause I'm ready to leave LA And I want (need) you to come I guess I could manage if you stay It's just if you do I can't see myself having any fun, so

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in songs and poems Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman Take you to infinity Let me love you like a woman (let me hold you like a baby) Take you to infinity Let me love you like a woman (let me hold you like a baby) Take you to infinity

We could get lost in the purple rain Talk about the good old days We could get high on some pink champagne Baby, let me count the waves

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in songs and poems Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman

—

[smallpwbbles]

Monkie kid season 5 ep 1 and 2 thoughts (SPOILERS)

DADSY ENJOYERS WE ARE FUCKING THRIVING THIS HIGH NOON

Pigsy saying he loves MK while stroking his face filled me with the highest amount of joy and whimsy that increases my life span

At the same time I love thinking about how their father/son relationship progressed cuz he literally only called MK son for the first time in S4, I’d love to understand why he never saw himself as MKs dad despite raising him

Literally hearing the eng voices again is just heaven on earth

Bro every time Mac and SWK bicker I gain years of life I fucking love it

Mac saying FFM has been his home just as long as Wukongs has me pondering a bit like did he mean that literally or did he mean he’s just been around on FFM a while after SWK established it

MK please when he said he couldn’t sleep I wanted to scream

THE FACT THEY REBUILT SWKS HOUSE I LOVE FOUND FAMILY MAN

I godda give to props to Wildbrain I can’t lie I really fuck with their animation you can tell the people who are working on the show now actually care (and it’s even more present throughout the season)

THE ENTIRE COURT EP WAS AS FUNNY AS I WANTED IT TO BE

Ten kings: we know that you scribbled your name out the book of the dead

SWK: smuggest face that screams he would do it again

I need Nezha to have a vacation he’s got daddy issues and is dealing with 3 monkeys like I’d hate to be him

The gutteral scream SWK did when they put the circlet on him I was SICK

“There isn’t anyone standing here that I don’t trust” while Mac looked up at him, what if I fucking died

“He always gets away” while showing macaque not getting away was sick

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Five-Point Star (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Bodyguard/Assassin!Chan x Mercenary!F.Reader Themes: Smut | bit of Fluff | Angst | Strangers to lovers to enemies but lovers? (i don’t even know how to categorise this one) Word Count: ~6k | AO3 Synopsis: With a career like yours, you knew you shouldn’t let yourself fall in love. But honestly, in retrospect, there was no way you wouldn’t have fallen in love with Chris. After meeting him, you couldn’t help but hope that he’d be the last person you fell this deeply for–maybe foolishly so… Warnings: pet names · cold weapons · firearms · questionable morals · graphic depictions of violence · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut) · open ending.

Author’s Note: as soon as i watched the 5-STAR trailer my creative juices started flowing, and i set camp in my google docs until this piece was born. please don’t hesitate to let me know if i missed any warnings… this one’s a bit sad (or, at least, it made me sad). i apologise in advance. thanks once again to @straylightdream and @cursed-mars-bars for reading this and letting me know it didn’t suck💜

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Part 1 (you're here!) | Part 2 >

Smut Warnings: unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control] · finger sucking · some praising, of course · oral [F&M Rec] · rimming [F.Rec] · nipple play · creampie · overstimulation · multiple orgasms

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

In your line of work, it was hard to have any kind of interpersonal relationships. Having either platonic or romantic connections posed a risk, not only to you, but also to the others involved. 

Even then, you were a firm believer that, as long as no one knew your identity while you were ‘on the clock’, was enough for you to keep at least a handful of people close to you. You had a few close friends, some with a similar profession to yours, some just office or retail workers that had no idea what you did for a living. What you didn’t have, though, was a romantic partner.

It was tough to keep a relationship going when you couldn’t tell them what you did to bring food to the table. You’d always dance around the topic fairly easily, but, eventually, the situation would become unsustainable, and either you or the other person decided to break things off.

You’d been single for a while now–a long, long while–and you honestly had no active desire to find yourself a romantic companion. That was…until you met Chris.

Chris was a friend of a friend of a friend, someone you had seen once or twice at the odd social gathering you attended. He was incredibly handsome, but, most importantly, he was funny, always made you laugh whenever you interacted, and also seemed to have similar interests to yours. 

In a twist of fate–and against your better judgement–you ended up going on a date with him. A date that, surprisingly, ended with you and him tangled in his bedsheets. That night, you discovered that, not only were you compatible with Chris when it came to opinions on the current state of the world, on the theories for the next season of your favourite shows, but also in bed.

It was honestly almost crazy how good he made you feel, how there seemed to be sparks flying in the air whenever your bodies touched in any way, and, not to throw roses on your own garden, but you were confident that you made him feel good, too. So much so, the next morning, when you had to leave and he’d kissed the oxygen out of your lungs before dropping the most adorable ‘You’ll call me back, right?’ you knew you had no escape, that there was no way you’d pass up this opportunity.

Five months down the line and you already had a Christopher-shaped hole in your heart. You knew it was stupid, that it was dangerous, but you just couldn’t help it. Not when he was quite possibly the best romantic partner you’d ever had–to be fair, the bar was already quite low, but he still managed to jump ten metres over it.

In any relationship you’d ever had you always avoided the topic of work, not only yours, but the other person’s, too. If you avoided asking about their job, maybe they wouldn’t ask about yours, that was your reasoning. However, you’d discovered that people loved to talk about their jobs, that some people even made them their one and only topic of conversation, which was incredibly inconvenient.

Thankfully, Chris didn’t talk about work at all. Not his, nor yours. You had no idea what he did for a living, all you could infer was that it paid enough for him to live comfortably in his cosy flat. You honestly didn’t care, he could keep that information to himself as long as you could keep yours as well.

What you did for a living was probably not the most morally right career path, but it was your family trade. You’d been trained for it since you were very young, so it was honestly a no brainer for you. Some people called it a gun for hire, some called it being a mercenary, you, personally, didn’t particularly feel like calling it anything at all.

People hired you whenever they needed someone kidnapped, tortured, or killed. And, although you had killed for your job before, you almost always tried to turn those offers down. Clean-up was messy, and even if you hardly had any empathy for your targets, killing them always made you feel a bit uneasy.

Two nights ago you were called in for a job, the kidnapping of the eldest son of the Kim family that ruled the capital city. Seungmin, his name was. Based on the investigation you’d done he was younger than you, a bit rowdy, and an apparent oddball. He, very inconveniently for you, also had a handful of very skilled bodyguards protecting him at all times.

You couldn’t find any records of those bodyguards of his, only that they called themselves the Five-Point Stars, and that they were good at what they did. Regardless, you had a lot of confidence in your own abilities. After all, never once had you lost a fight, nor been unable to finish one of your jobs–although you’d been close to being killed sometimes, you’d admit.

As soon as you woke up, you started to recount the plan you had put together for your mission tonight.

After wiretapping his personal tailor’s phone, you heard him tell someone how he had prepared Seungmin’s suit for the night. You knew Seungmin was going to attend a screening of a new movie that was financed by his father. It’d be dark, crowded, and the perfect setting for you to sneak in, get him unconscious, take him out of there, and hopefully outsmart his bodyguards.

A particularly loud snore next to you snapped you out of your focus, and you turned around to find Chris on his back, with an arm over his eyes and his mouth slightly open. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, and, for a moment, even if just for this morning, you decided you wanted to enjoy being just a regular civilian instead of a trained assassin.

“Baby…” You reached for Chris’ shoulder to lightly shake him awake. “Baby, wake up”.

Chris’ whole body tensed. His hand flew to catch yours that was shaking him awake, and he held it in a tight grip. Throughout your relationship you’d discovered that Chris had incredibly quick reflexes, and a very intense fight or flight response, so his sudden movement didn’t faze you in the slightest. “W–what?”

“You were about to choke, baby. You need to move”, throughout your relationship, you’d also learnt that Chris suffered from a sleeping disorder. You found out about it the first time he woke you up in the middle of the night gasping for air.

Poor thing, he’d been so embarrassed while he told you about it, but you were quick to reassure him that you didn’t mind, if anything, it only made you worry about him.

Because that was how important Chris was to you. Important enough for you to care about his sleeping habits, important enough that he warmed your cold heart.

So now, any time you were awake and you heard him snore particularly loudly, you woke him up before he could choke on his spit.

“Ah… Thank you, sweetheart”, he mumbled, clearly still half asleep. 

Chris turned to his side, scooting closer to you and pulling you into his arms. You couldn’t help the small giggle that left your lips as soon as your head was tucked under his chin, just like he seemed to not be able to contain his at all, either. 

The feeling of his bare skin against yours was incredibly comforting, his warmth seeped into you, reaching areas deep within your heart that no one else ever had before.

As you laid there in his arms, as you heard his heartbeat under your ear, and as you felt the minute rumbles of his snoring resume, you realised this was probably the happiest you’d ever been with a partner, and you hoped that your relationship with Chris would be the last one you ever had.

Getting into the movie screening was easy. Your specialty was sneaking around undetected, you’d learnt to walk without making a sound–no sound from your feet hitting the ground, nor your breath going in and out of your lungs, nor your clothes moving with the wind…

You’d also heard from Seungmin’s tailor–whose name was apparently Hyunjin–that the Kims had a special, private room in this particular cinema, so that was likely where the eldest son of the family would be.

Finding this room was the hard part. It wasn’t in any of the blueprints of the building, so you spent a good hour surveying the place, until you finally saw a waiter coming out from what seemed to be a simple wall.

Tightening the hood over your head, making sure the lower part of your face was covered properly by your kerchief, you made your way to that wall to inspect it closely. There was a tile on the wall that was shaped differently than the others. It was barely perceptible, just a tad smaller than the ones around it, so you pressed on it, and immediately you were able to push what you now knew was a door camouflaged as part of the wall.

As soon as you stepped into the room, you saw Seungmin, sitting on what looked to be a very comfortable armchair, watching the movie from behind the glass that kept this area hidden from the rest of the auditorium. 

Slowly, you approached him, careful to not make a single sound as you unclipped the rope you had attached to your belt. Before you could use it, though, you felt a slight disturbance in the air around you, and every single one of your senses zeroed in on the direction of it.

In a second, you ducked, just barely missing the bat that had been swung your way.

“Chan!” You heard Seungmin scream, but you didn’t dare turn to look at him, not when his bodyguard had all his attention on you.

It was just one man. You could barely make out the features of his face, not only because it was dark, but also because he had a mask covering the lower half of his face, and because he was moving so fast you could hardly take in anything else.

The man, Chan, based on the name Seungmin had screamed, certainly put up a good fight. Any blow you sent his way he blocked without much difficulty, just like you did his. It was a pretty on par encounter, but you were running out of time. The longer you stayed there, the more time you were giving them to get back-up, so you reasoned the wisest choice was to retreat. This mission was getting way too dangerous, and if they captured you it’d all be over.

Chan wasn’t giving up, though, and he was making it incredibly hard for you to make your escape. You managed to kick him in the chest, but aside from a grunt of discomfort he didn’t relent, and, with a swing of his bat, he was able to land a hit on your arm.

It was painful, yes, but you could hardly feel it with the adrenaline pumping through your system. Taking a knife from their designated place on your bodice, you threw it in Chan’s direction. It didn’t stab him, but it did manage to cut one side of his mask, enough to distract him so you could make your escape.

By the time you were out of the cinema the place was full of guards, so you knew your night was over.

It didn’t matter. 

You hadn’t lost. You were just experiencing a set-back.

“Missed you so much, gorgeous”, Chris mumbled between kisses, further pressing you against the back of your front door.

“Missed you, too”, was all you mumbled back, unable to keep your lips away from his for too long.

You hadn’t seen Chris for seven whole days. It wasn’t because you didn’t want to, you were honestly desperate to see him, but once you were back at your place after your failed attempt to kidnap Seungmin you realised how hurt your body was.

That guy Chan had certainly done a number on you, and the only thing that kept you from bursting into flames by the rage you felt, was the fact that you were sure you’d done a number on him, too.

Your bruises had now just started to fade, so you figured they were now normal-looking enough that your boyfriend wouldn’t think much about them. 

You were supposed to go out for dinner tonight, but as soon as Chris was at your doorstep, as soon as his lips were on yours, you both quickly realised you didn’t want to go for dinner anymore. How could you, when the taste of each other was much better than any meal you could possibly have?

“Come here”, Chris pulled himself away from you, taking a hold of your hand and tugging you towards the sofa. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about those nudes you sent me”.

You couldn’t help the smirk that came to your face. Of course he couldn’t stop thinking about the pictures you sent him. That was their entire purpose, after all. They were simple, really, but clearly enough to rile him up. It was just you riding one of your favourite dildos, with your ass on full display for him to ogle.

Chris pushed you to the sofa. As soon as you were seated he dropped to his knees, and spread you open for him. Wearing a skirt to your date was certainly the wisest choice you made tonight.

“Maybe I should send you a video next time. I’ll ride it just like I ride you”, you said, just as you lifted your hips enough for him to pull your underwear down your legs.

“Fuck, you spoil me too much”, was the last thing to come out of Chris’ mouth before he dived between your legs. His lips found your clit with expert ease, gently sucking on it.

Your entire body came alight, a moan of his name escaped your mouth, and you brought a hand to his head so you could tug on his curls, just how you knew he liked it. “So fucking good with your mouth, baby, fuck…”

Chris simply hummed in response, sending vibrations through your body, making you whine.

With his hands on the back of your thighs, he pushed your legs further towards your chest, getting better access to your centre. Chris had very quickly learnt his way around your body, and he’d even shown you new ways in which you could feel good, ways you’d never even imagined you’d get to experience.

His tongue changed focus, from your clit to your entrance, diligently licking your folds, and he groaned at the taste of you on his tongue once he pushed it within your walls. He stayed there for a while, occasionally coming back up to lick and suck on your clit only to come back down to slurp you up. Until he finally moved further down so he could lick the tender skin of your ass, all while he stimulated your clit with his fingers, making you shiver. 

Desire pooled in the pit of your stomach, and the most pathetic whine left your mouth as soon as he started to lave at your skin. You would’ve never thought how good this could feel, never let a partner come anywhere near your ass, but one night, after drinking one too many beers, the topic of things you would’ve liked to try in bed came up. 

You could still remember the look on Chris’ face when he confidently said ‘I’d really like to eat your ass. Like, would love to, honestly’. And maybe it’d been the fact that you were a bit tipsy, or the fact that he was so utterly unashamed when he said it, or maybe even the fact that you trusted Chris like you’d never trusted anyone else before, but you weren’t entirely displeased with the idea… So you gave it a try, and now you couldn’t even fathom getting head if you didn’t feel his tongue on your ass at least once.

Without detaching his mouth from your sensitive skin, he brought two fingers to your mouth, and you wasted no time on wrapping your lips around them, sucking on them, licking them. You couldn’t help but moan around his digits, and Chris simply gave you a satisfied hum in response.

He let you enjoy the feeling of his fingers in your mouth for a while, until they were thoroughly coated in your saliva. As soon as he removed them from between your lips, he brought them to your entrance and pushed them into you, to the last knuckle. “C’mon, baby. Show me your pretty tits. Hm?”

You just nodded in response, unable to form a sentence with the now relentless pace of his fingers continuously hitting the most sensitive areas within your walls. With trembling fingers, you unbuttoned your blouse and squeezed your breasts over the fabric of your lace bralette before you pulled them out of the cups.

“Shit, look at you… Touch them, baby. Just how you like it”.

So you complied, lightly dragging your fingers over your now stiff nipples, sending tiny shocks of pleasure up and down your spine with the motion. The stimulation you were giving to your chest, Chris’ fingers going in and out of your cunt, and the dirty words coming out of his mouth brought you close to the edge, and you started to feel incredibly desperate for your relief.

“Chris, baby…” You whined as Chris sped up his motions, as you rolled your nipples between your fingers.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Chris’ voice was so soft, a complete contrast to the brutal pace of his fingers.

“Want your–Your mouth”, you could barely hold eye contact anymore, seeing the desire in his eyes brought heat to your cheeks. It was always the same when he found himself between your legs, he always looked at you like you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and it made you feel incredibly wanted. 

“Hmm… You sure that’s what you want?”

You nodded, a bit frantically, you’d admit. “Want your mouth to…make me come, please, love–”

You knew that the second the word ‘please’ left your mouth you’d get exactly what you asked for, and you barely registered the broken moan that flew past your lips as soon as his lips attached to your clit once again.

Chris’ movements didn’t relent until you were coming. They didn’t even relent while you were coming. He kept sucking on your clit, fucking you open with his fingers, turning you into a whimpering mess as he pushed you past the brink of overstimulation, and making you fall face first into a consecutive high.

When he was done with you, you were still trembling, panting, and he finally left his place on the floor to sit next to you on the sofa and pull you into his chest so he could softly caress your hair, mumbling sweet words of encouragement. ‘Mmm… Such a good girl, aren’t you, love? So good to me. You did well…’

You just hummed, burying your face in the crook of his neck to leisurely press kisses on his skin. 

As soon as you regained some of your composure, you kissed him. You kissed him with such want one would’ve thought he hadn’t just made you feel like you’d gone to the moon and back four times. You quickly undid his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, and tugged them and his underwear down just enough to let his length free of its confinements.

In no time, you had straddled him and sunk yourself on his cock, eliciting a shared sigh of relief.

You sneaked a hand under his shirt just as you leaned in to kiss him again. His abdomen tensed and relaxed while you slowly traced every muscle with your fingertips, your soft caresses eliciting content sighs to fall from his lips and get lost in your mouth. Taking a hold of the hem of his shirt, you tried to get it off of his frame, but Chris shook his head, pulling your hands away and mumbling a “no time for that… God, bun, move…”

Chris held your ass tightly in his hands as you bounced on him. His mouth attached to your chest, sucking your nipples into his mouth so he could lick them, nibble on them. Under the unfaltering pace of your hips, it only took a handful of minutes to turn him into a moaning, whining mess.

“Fuck, baby… If you don’t slow down, I’ll blow”, Chris nuzzled his face on your chest, and you brought your hands to the back of his head, further pushing him into your cleavage.

“Good”, was all you told him, admittedly a bit breathless. “Need you to fill me up, Chris, baby… Need it so bad…”

Chris swore under his breath, and his hold on your buttocks tightened. It wasn’t long until you got exactly what you wanted. With a moan of your name, your boyfriend pumped you full of his release, making you whine at the warmth of his cum reaching deep inside you.

You didn’t stop moving, though.

Even if your thighs were burning, you kept bouncing on his cock, until his groans of relief turned into desperate whines, until he was whimpering against your chest and digging his short nails on the supple flesh of your buttcheeks.

“P–please…” You heard him whine, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t felt accomplished by the sound. That was when you took pity on him, finally sitting down fully on his lap and stopping your movements.

Chris groaned, exhaling all that air he’d been holding in while you overstimulated him. He threw his head back to rest it on the backrest of the sofa, looking eighty shades of fucked out of his mind. He was breathing heavily–as were you–and he could barely keep his eyes open, but he still let out an incredulous laugh, giving you one of his blinding smiles, making you smile in return.

Cupping your cheeks, he pulled you down for a kiss before he whispered, “I fucking love you”.

And once he said it, you finally let yourself voice those thoughts that had been roaming your mind for a while now, just before you leaned in for another kiss. “I love you, baby”.

By the time you had both thoroughly enjoyed one another, you were too tired to leave your place. So you ordered takeout, got into your comfiest pyjamas, and decided to have your dinner date in the warmth of your home while watching your favourite show together.

Although, to be fair, you didn’t get very far into the show. With your now full stomachs, Chris pulled you into his arms while you both laid on the sofa, softly caressing your hair as he sang to you, inadvertently lulling you to sleep.

This Chan guy was seriously testing your patience. 

Every time you tried to get to the Kim kid he’d always be there, he’d always manage to get you to back off. It was starting to hurt your pride, and, even if you were one to avoid killing, you started to genuinely consider taking his life just so he could stop being a nuance.

You’d had three other failed attempts at your task since that fiasco in the cinema, so tonight would hopefully be the day you succeeded. Seungmin was to attend a piano concert at one of the classic theatres his family owned, meaning he’d once again be in a dark, crowded place. There was no hidden room as far as you could tell from your surveillance earlier this week, so that gave you some semblance of peace.

You weren’t sure if it was the fact that this particular job was taking longer than usual to get it over with, or if it was the fact that you kept being forced to retreat by that one bodyguard of Seungmin’s time and time again, but lately you’d been incredibly frustrated, and it seemed like the only way to get that frustration out of your system was to get it fucked out of you. Luckily, even if your boyfriend didn’t know what was going on, he had been giving you exactly what you needed and more any time you asked for it.

The droplets falling down Chris’ pecs and his toned stomach added a delightful shine to his physique, yet you could hardly focus on any of it. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of his cock on your tongue, heavy and warm, the delicious sounds coming out of his mouth and bouncing off of his shower’s walls as you took him in and out of your throat, and the dark, lustful, but somehow still loving look in his eyes. 

“Shit… You always tell me how good I am with my mouth… But what about you, baby, huh?” Chris leaned his head back on the tiles, holding your head in place so he could start slowly thrusting into your mouth, making you moan.

You just couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him to fuck you dumb, you needed to further disconnect your mind from reality outside of these walls. So, with a tight grip on the base of his cock, you pulled your mouth off of Chris and started pumping him in your hand, looking him right in the eyes.

“Fuck me”.

Chris just laughed as soon as the words were out of your mouth. He swiftly helped you to your feet so he could turn you around and push your chest against the cold tile wall. “Someone woke up a bit needy today. Hm?”

“And what if I–Fuck…” You completely forgot where your sentence was going as soon as you felt your boyfriend push himself into you, stretching you open just so perfectly all you could do was rest your forehead against the wall when he started to move.

“Maybe you should move in…” Chris attached his lips to your shoulder, kissing and sucking on your skin as his hand found its way towards your front, right between your legs to diligently rub that sweet bud at the apex of your thighs. The mix of his motions between your legs, of the words he mumbled against your skin, and the obscene sound of your wet skin colliding time and time again was steadily clouding your reason, enough to genuinely consider what he was offering. “If you did, we could do this every day, sweetheart…”

“Maybe I should…” You were certainly delirious, there was no way you could live with another person while trying to keep your trade a secret. But the longer you stayed in that shower, relishing the company and precise motions of your boyfriend, the more you wanted to believe it was possible.

Even after he’d coaxed a mind-numbing orgasm out of you, after he’d stuffed you full of his cum, and after he’d helped you dry your hair with the hairdryer he kept in one of the drawers of his bathroom, when you both were getting dressed in his bedroom, you desperately wanted to believe it was possible to have a normal life. Maybe you should start considering retirement… But would you be able to live a civilian life without the thrill of your job? You weren’t too sure. For Chris, though, you might try…

“Come here, bun”, Chris suddenly held your waist and dropped to his bed, bringing you down with him. All you did was laugh, scrambling to find a comfortable position on top of him so you could kiss him.

He was really giggly today, and the sound warmed you up. You dragged your fingers over his still damp curls as you peppered his face with kisses, chuckling with mirth and an immense amount of love for this man that had managed to make you feel a bit normal again. 

“Pretty?” Chris tried to get your attention. You just hummed in response to let him know you were listening, but you didn’t stop pressing kisses on his cheek.

With his hands on your waist, he tried to get you to look at him. “Listen, baby. There’s…there’s something I’d like to tell you…”

You finally pulled yourself away a bit, enough to look him in the eyes. He looked incredibly serious, more than you had ever seen him over the course of your relationship, and it gave you pause.

Chris opened his mouth to speak, but before any words came out, the obnoxious ringtone of his phone interrupted him. With a roll of his eyes and an annoyed sigh, he gently pushed you off of him, muttering a ‘Gimme a sec, gotta take this…’

You watched Chris leave the bedroom entirely before you stood up from his bed and continued getting dressed. You could hear your boyfriend’s hushed voice coming from the living room, but you couldn’t make out a single word. Maybe it was for the best, you honestly didn’t like to pry on his private conversations. After all, you’d hate it if he tried to eavesdrop on yours, all things considered.

By the time he was back you had already gotten yourself into a fresh set of clothes. There was a frown on his face, but it quickly disappeared the moment he spotted you by his mirror.

Standing behind you, he placed his hands on your belly, pulling you back towards his chest as he pressed kisses on your neck. You just hummed, watching him through the mirror and melting in his hold. 

“Babe”, you mumbled, getting him to open his eyes and look at you through the mirror. He rested his chin on your shoulder, intently listening to you. “What’d you want to tell me?”

Chris took a deep breath, pulling himself away from you to take a hold of your hips once you turned around and looped your arms around his neck. “It’s nothing urgent. Say… What if we go on a little vacation to the coast this weekend?”

“Mmm… A little escapade?” You chuckled, and Chris hummed in response, cupping your cheek with one hand to pull you in for a kiss.

If everything went well tonight, you’d more than appreciate some time to wind down from the entire thing, and spending the entire weekend relaxing, barely even clothed, listening to the waves crashing against the breakwater with Chris sounded like absolute heaven. It’d be like your own little celebration for your win over that insufferable guard dog of Seungmin’s.

“Sounds like a great idea, baby”, you told your boyfriend as soon as his lips detached from yours, smiling brightly at him.

The sound of the piano could be heard perfectly even outside of the theatre. You didn’t know the name of the piece, but it was clear that it was being played by expert hands. Even if you were mostly impassive whenever you fell into your…professional mode, you were still a bit on edge after months of having your plans ruined by Chan, so the melody floating in the air certainly helped soothe you a bit.

The corridors to the main hall were empty, completely quiet save for the sound of the piano bouncing off of the walls. The old construction was a bit difficult to navigate, but you’d gotten well acquainted with the place throughout the past week, so you found your way to the concert hall with ease.

Everything was dark, save for the lights shining on the stage, illuminating the silhouette of the musician sitting on one of the three pianos that’d been set on the podium. 

Something felt odd, though.

In an instant, you noticed the emptiness in the hall. The music stopped, replaced by a loud bang and the sound of the bullet hitting the wall, right where your head had been just seconds before your instincts kicked in and you moved away.

It was a trap.

You’d stupidly let them lure you in here, where Seungmin was, very clearly, not even present.

No matter. You might not get your target tonight, but you could still get your peace back.

Chan kept firing at you from the stage, and you continued to expertly dodge his bullets as you swiftly got closer to him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you could hear your father’s voice from back when he was training you, telling you that chasing after someone that wasn’t the one you’d been hired to attack was foolish, that it’d put you at risk. You didn’t care, this was personal now.

Taking one of the knives from your bodice, you threw it in Chan’s direction, just barely missing his form when he ducked out of the way. It felt like it lasted for a long time, you throwing knives at him, and him shooting at you, until you made it to the stage and he had no option but to physically fight you.

He was incredibly agile, but so were you. Especially after having fought him so many times. You’d picked up his tells, how he shifted his weight on his heel before he threw a punch, how he moved slightly to the left when he kicked, so it’d gotten easier to counterattack each and every single one of his moves.

Chan was good at what he did… But you were better.

With a kick to his knee and a push on his chest, you managed to send him to the floor and pin him under you. He tried to move, but you swiftly pressed one of your knives to his neck, effectively stopping his movements.

There was a moment of silence, a moment of you staring down at him, and a moment of him staring up at you.

This was the first time you’d actually gotten to see his face this clearly. There was usually barely any illumination whenever you’d fought before, and both of your quick movements made it easy to miss the details on the exposed areas of your faces. His straight hair pushed off of his forehead–save for one single piece that seemed to always be out of place–gave you plenty of room to see the blue contact lenses he wore. You couldn’t help but wonder if those were simply for aesthetic purposes, or if they held any sort of special tech quality to them–he worked for the Kims, after all.

There was something eerily familiar in the way his eyebrows furrowed, in his eyes, even with the obviously fake blue colour. Whether you were going to kill him or not, you suddenly felt an intense need to see his face. All of it. So, with your free hand, you hooked your finger on the side of his mask so you could pull it off.

For a split second, you couldn’t help but wonder if your eyes were playing a trick on you. Despite the straight hair and the blue contacts, the curve of his lips and the shape of his nose were so distinct there was just no way this man could be anyone else.

You tried to never speak while on the clock. After all, your voice might be a very good indicator of your identity. It might’ve been the shock of seeing such a familiar face, but you really couldn’t help the name from coming out of your mouth, as a barely audible whisper. “…Chris?”

Confusion crossed the features of the man under you. His eyes jumped all over your face–or what could be seen of it, at least. His angry frown turned into a look of shock, mixed with some concern, and you saw his Adam’s apple bob in your peripheral vision when he swallowed, almost audibly.

You still had the knife pressed to his neck, but you were honestly unable to move at all. So much so you didn’t even flinch when he slowly started to move himself.

With a trembling hand, he reached for the black kerchief that covered the lower half of your face. You didn’t stop him, you just let him tug it down to your neck and reveal your face to him.

The sound of your name, coming out as a breathless whisper out of his mouth hurt more than any hit you’d received throughout the past handful of months.

“What the…fuck”, the hurt tone in his voice broke your heart, and you could feel the lump form in your throat. “All this time…?”

“I had no idea”, you couldn’t help the tremble in your voice, and you weren’t sure if you hated yourself for being so vulnerable in front of the enemy. But then again, he wasn’t only an enemy, he was also the man you’d fallen madly in love with.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to get to Seungmin?” His voice trembled, yet neither of you dared to move further.

“I was hired to do it”, you replied simply.

“By whom?”

“I won’t tell you… I…can’t”, you could feel them. The treacherous tears that pricked your eyes… Crying in front of the enemy was unheard of, but you supposed these weren’t normal circumstances.

Chris swallowed again, and you could see tears of his own well in his eyes. “So…what now, bun?”

The sound of the pet name coming out of his mouth fully obliterated the remaining pieces of your heart, and you couldn’t stop the tears from falling anymore. So you didn’t. “I–I don’t know…”

“You should kill me”, Chris said, very confidently, without any semblance of doubt in his voice. And even though your grip on the knife tightened, you didn’t move it, you just shook your head in response, trying to contain the sob that threatened to come out of your mouth.

“You should”, he repeated after a few moments of silence. “I’ve done…many horrible things in my life. I’ve killed people, tortured people… I’ve done it proudly, too”, Chris brought a hand to your wrist, holding it gently, but firmly. “I’ve made peace with all that a long, long time ago… But knowing I’ve spent months hurting the woman I love is something I can’t live with…”

“You didn’t know”, your hand started to tremble, too, and Chris’ hold on your wrist tightened to keep it steady.

“Doesn’t matter”, finally, tears started to fall from Chris’ eyes, and his voice broke a bit when he spoke to you. “I wanted you dead. Even if I didn’t know, I was trying to kill you”.

You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly.

Maybe, if you closed them hard enough, you’d realise this was all a dream, a horrible nightmare you could still wake up from.

“Why don’t you kill me instead?” You mumbled after a while, when you finally opened your eyes. “I, too, was trying to kill the man that I love…”

“I can’t stop protecting Seungmin. I won’t stop. I’m the only thing keeping you from reaching your target, pretty. Look at us…” Chris’ thumb softly caressed your wrist, right on the sliver of skin your gloves exposed. “Look at our positions. You know you already won”.

You shook your head again, and Chris pushed on your wrist, further digging the blade into his skin as he mumbled, “Do it…”

He was right, you had the upper hand. Logically, it made sense for you to kill him, but there was no way you would. What a selfish thing for him to ask… Did he think getting to Seungmin was more important than his own life? That you’d be fine just…taking it?

Yanking your wrist out of his grip, you threw your knife to the side, as far away from you as possible. Chris just looked at you, confused, hurt, and you just couldn’t bear to see that look in his eyes. In an instant, you were standing, finally getting off of him.

“Baby…” You mumbled, trying to steady the sound of your voice. You turned your back to him, unable to look at him any longer. “I’m sorry… I don’t think I’ll make it to our vacation this weekend”.

With that, you started walking, trying to get as far away from that stage as possible.

The last thing you heard before you left the theatre altogether was the cacophony of sounds produced by what you knew to be the erratic smashing of piano keys, a complete contrast to the soothing melody you’d been listening to when you came in here… That soothing melody that you now knew was being played by Chan, by Chris, by your biggest rival who turned out to also be the love of your life.

As you left, with tears in your eyes, with your heart shattered in your chest, you realised that this was the first time you’d truly lost. There had been no room for you to win since the very beginning.

Part 1 (you're here!) | Part 2 >

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© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :) feel free to leave your comments in the caption/tags when you reblog, or by sending me an ask !

General Masterlist

[i-smoke-chapstick]

‘WILDFLOWER AND BARLEY,

-GOTHAM!EDWARD NYGMA X READER-

⋆ ���𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Sometimes you don’t think you deserve him….other times, you think it’s for the best that you stay.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!riddler x female reader. SMUT AND ANGST!! reader is toxic, but eddie is too, so its ok. eddy being vanilla but also strangely dominant. guys this fic is FILTHY. also,, part 3 to gotham characters eating you out. takes place with like season 2 eddy, post kringle. Did i write a fic inspired by a Hozier song that isn’t even released yet? yes. readers taking advantage of eddy. but also, eddy is more than willing to give. kind of a character study. im so sorry if i made reader too mean ive had this idea for a week😭

fic requested by @clementine-writes-things <3

♫ “My coffee black in my bed at 3 / You’re too sweet for me. You’re too sweet for me.” Wildflower and Barley by Hozier

You’d fucked up, majorly.

God, what were you thinking?

Edward Nygma, the quirky forensics guy. The loon, as your fellow officers eloquently put it. And you didn’t necessarily disagree. He was certainly a peculiar fellow. He had always a thing for…what was her name? Kristen Kringle. That was it. You’d been working with him for years, watching him moon after her. You could…understand the appeal, you guessed. She had a sexy sixties librarian type of thing going for her. She kept to herself. Maybe you should’ve done the same. She’d dissapeared a few weeks ago.

You somehow landed yourself in the bed of Edward Nygma. You’d been hooking up…For the past two weeks in a row. No judgement, yeah?

It started as a joke. You and the other officers, chatting with beers and obnoxious comments towards the other tools in the GCPD. Jim Gordon…Harvey Bullock. The way the men couldn’t seem to keep their mouthes shut, especially Jim.

Well, you’d gotten plenty tipsy, staying after work. You pummled those beers back like it was your last night alive. And hell, living in gotham? As an officer? It very well could be.

They were all drunk and laughing out of their minds. Anything anyone said seemed overly funny. Especially when one of your fellow cops brought up the name, “Nygma” like the name was it’s own disease.

“You think Y/N could sleep with him?”

“Yeah, Y/N, go fuck the loon. I wonder what it’s like.”

“You think he says riddles when hes cumming?”

“Whats long, hard, and has ‘cum’ in the middle?”

The numerous voices of your “friends” rung out, and in the moment, drunk out if your mind, you too thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

“I could do it.” You affirmed, alcohol giving you the liquid courage you wouldn’t typically have. After the “oooooo”ing from some of your coworkers, you decided, fuck it. Edward was tall, had nice cheekbones, and was smart. You could do worse than a one night stand.

So you confidently marched into that forensics room, high on the dare the other cops had given you.

You found him, looking into one of the forensics mirrors. He was muttering to himself and you snorted. Weirdo. Oh well.

He pushed up his glasses when you two made eye contact. He was sweating, for some reason, in that lanky labcoat and rubber-gloved hands. He stood up straight and went rigid when he saw you.

“Ms. L/N-“ He was about to question, when you rammed your lips onto his. You remember it like yesterday- how hesitant he was. The way he parted for air, breathing wildly at you. He kept trying to ask questions the whole time you were eagerly undressing him. But he didn’t seem to mind your fowardness.

Well, just your luck, that one night stand was the best fuck of your life. The way his cock fitted perfectly into your body, like it was made for your cunt alone. You two fucked on the forensics cabinets, your coworkers in the next room over, and it was exhilarating. Especially when the usually reserved Ed got unusually rough, pulling your hair and smacking your ass just right.

By the time you two were done…you were fucked out of your mind. Pleasantly surprised.

Since then, you hadn’t been able to get away. You told the cops it was vanilla, and reveled in their dismay. But…you came back for seconds. And then thirds. And then fourths. And then you couldn’t remember the last time you woke up in your own bed.

And just as if you were Kristen…he started following you. Your coworkers snickered. You’d see homemade cupcakes left on your desk. You’d catch him staring at you from the other side of the precint. You writhed under his gaze. For a man with not much expirence, he was obnoxiously good at sex. And he was even more obnoxiously good at not understanding the meaning of coworkers with benefits, and not a relationship.

But…mornings like these? You can’t complain.

Taking yourself back to the present, you awoke in his bed. The sunlight of the open windows bled through your eyelids, and you felt yourself smack your lips. You blinked yourself awake, same as you always did. You shifted underneath the covers, which had been neatly adjusted over you. It was infuriatingly comfortable. You let a yawn escape your lips.

“Ah, good! You’re awake!” You heard his voice chime, far off in the kitchen. You looked up, seeing his tall frame. He stared at you adoringly, and you felt your heart pang.

He carried a tray of coffee and breakfast. You sat up. It was the usual morning routine. He made the most exquisite breakfasts for you.

“A necessity to some, a treasure to many. I’m best enjoyed among pleasant company. Some like me hot, some like me cold. Some prefer me mild, others prefer me bold. What am I?” He spoke the riddle quickly.

You blinked at him, tired. You shrugged nonchalantly.

He made his way over to you, swiftly and delicatley placing the tray in your lap.

“Coffee.” He looked a bit dissapointed at your lack of answer, but brightened back up instantly. “Almost black, not quite. 1 Sugar. No cream. Just how you like it.” He noted, and it was in this moment, you felt the weight of your actions. He’d memorized everything about you. Whatever records you liked, he’d play softly. He’d learned your favorite flavor cupcake, and how you took your coffee. Gods, he’d even bought the brand of toothpaste you had at your house, so it was familiar brushing your teeth in the morning.

You squinted, adjusting yourself to the sunlight of the room. Golden. You felt the weight of the tray, and met his gaze. God, it was intense. The way his big, puppy dog like eyes harrowed in on you. Like you were the world.

He was practically wagging his tail, watching you take a slow sip of coffee. He wanted praise, as though perfected it, finally.

He was too sweet for you. You didn’t deserve any of this. But selfishly…you couldn’t resist.

You gave him a small nod in approval, letting the liquid glide down your throat. Damn it, The coffee was perfect.

He positioned himself next to you on the bed, sitting, legs crossed. He looked at you almost creepily, eyes never leaving as you finished your breakfast and coffee. You didn’t say a word to him, but you did listen to him ramble quite a bit. Every now and then he’d ask a casual question, and you’d stay silent, or give him a one worded answer. You’d see his smile falter, but he’d continue.

When you were done, he’d grab the tray from your hands. You let him do the work for you. You liked his bed. He came back, eyes big and bright. He sat once more, looking at you expectantly. You furrowed your brows.

“…What?”

He shrugged, giving a slightly nervous, manic giggle. You cringed a bit, but faltered when you felt his fingertips glide across your thigh.

Oh. Thats what.

“…We have work in an hour.” You replied. The mantra played in your head. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve him. You felt guilty.

“I’ll be quick.” He affirmed, peeling the covers back. Oh, fuck it. Who were you to deny him?

He didn’t lie, he was fast. The covers exposed your skin, still undressed from the previous night. You felt the cool air on your thighs and pussy, and couldn’t help it. You caved.

In an instant, he was worshipping your legs, working his way up. He kept eye contact with you, laying gentle bites and pecks into the plush of your skin.

He kissed his way up, tonguing the bite marks he left in his wake. You shivered when his lips hovered over your pussy. He wasted no time. No, he didn’t tease you, he needed to please you as quickly as he could. It was a need for him.

His tongue came into contact with your pussy lips, and you shivered. Instinctivley, you threaded your hands through his morning messy hair, and shoved his face into you. He reciprocated instantly, wanting nothing more than to make you feel good. He licked up and down, tongue flicking gently on your cute little pearl of a clit.

He circles it and taps it with his tongue, saliva dripping and mixing with your juices. His movements are quick and calculated, and he indulges you, body and soul. He hums in pleasure when you arch your back up into him uncontrollably. It’s almost uncharacteristic- the way he switches from being so soft and gentle, to practically making out with your pussy. You feel his fingers dig into your thighs, like he’s a whole different person when he’s mouth fucking you.

Your moaning and shaking, saying his name over and over. Somehow, your getting off to this. To the idea you don’t deserve him. That he’s such a nicer, better, smarter person than you. And although he doesn’t vocalize it, you wonder if he strangely shares the sentiment.

It’s almost like he knows. Like he’s self-aware- of all your selfish thoughts. Like this, him eating you out, him on his knees for you, making you breakfast in bed- is some sort of revenge.

He knows what he’s doing. He’s making you feel awful, guilty for your mistreatment of him- by giving you more and more of him. And you find yourself cumming in his mouth at the thought.

He greedily laps at your swollen clit, overstimulating you. You let out a loud yelp, and he keeps going, only for a few more seconds.

It’s weird. He’s weird. But as you sober up from your orgasm, shaking underneath him, you brush those strange thoughts from your head.

You look into his gentle eyes again, watching him ramble off apologies. You two will most definitely be late to work. You scold yourself. Why would you think such an odd thing? No, he’s a complete sweetheart. Not a degrading bone in his body. You think.

Yet…you still feel the bruises forming on your thighs. And the burning guilt of using him.

You left his aparment in a hurry, driving yourself insane. You seem to convice yourself it was a weird orgasm thought, maybe you’re more kinky than you thought; for some pseudo pyschological self degradtion.

You go to the precint, just as you do every other day. The work is effectively still just as boring and your peers are still just as insufferable.

You’re given a few files by some mysoginistic cop you haven’t aquainted yourself with, who obviously assumed you were the new record keeper. You snort, but decide to take it. You browse over the files, snooping. They are forensic files, and your heart drops. Ah. You’ll have to give these to him.

You enter the forensic room without knocking- at least, you’re about to. But you hear him mumbling to himself, and decide to listen in for a moment. Curiosity getting the best of you.

“You’re too good to her.” You hear him argue with…himself? “You need to show her whose in charge.”

“I am!” He retaliates to his own voice.

“By making her coffee?” He snarls, and your brows furrow. He smashes a file cabinet closed loudly. You jump.

“Yes!” Ed’s voice growls out, fed up. “If you were smart enough to understand-“ He begins, and you’ve heard enough. You enter the room.

Ed looks at you bewildered, and you look at the same. He’s sweating, and his hair is in dissaray. You two make eyecontact and you grimace. What the hell?

You hardly register what he was actually saying, and more that he was having a seemingly very heated conversation with himself. You watch him fumble with his glasses.

“…Ed?” You question, and he snaps.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is quick and sharp. Thats uncharacteristic. You wince.

“Uh, files.” You nod to the papers in your hands, and he blinks, standing up straight. He clears his throat.

“Right.” He recovers, quickly. You narrow your eyes at him, and hum, giving them to him. He’s about to speak, but you rush yourself out of the room, heart pounding.

He is weird. He is a freak. You chime. Your coworkers have been right.

Any shred of pity you had for him has dwindled significantly, and you mull it over in your mind.

Maybe you do deserve eachother, You think. You’re the best he’s going to get.

[firstkanaphans]

Safe House, Season 4: FK moments you might have missed (Day 7)

Khaotung is always a bit grumpy in the mornings because he goes to bed super late. Here you can see First gently patting Khaotung’s head as he says, “Wake up. Wake up.”

And don’t worry, they made sure to tease Gemini for matching both the curtains and the place mats 😂

During breakfast, White asks Khao to pass him the sausages. Khao relays this message to First, who doesn’t realize the request came from White, and instead of grabbing the whole platter, takes a sausage out of his mouth and offers it to Khaotung. “For P’White,” Khaotung says, but he says it in such a way that I’m 100% sure if the sausage had been for him, he would have just taken it.

There’s also this one moment where they seem to be roleplaying Akk and Ayan? 

Khao laughs and shakes his head at the end so they’re clearly joking, but I don’t have a better explanation for you than that. Sorry.

During the afternoon session, everyone plays a card game. This is how close First and Khaotung sit.

Towards the end of the game, First and Khaotung are pitted against each other and First cedes to Khaotung instead of winning outright because Khao has fewer points than he does. (Khao is, in fact, in last place out of the entire house.) Here’s a clip of that moment and you can click the link below to get to a full translation.

(via)

Please note that Khao’s way of thanking First is by very intimately grabbing the inside of his thigh???

At the start of the evening session, they’re playing that weird game GMMTV likes where someone sits on a stool, someone else hits them with a pillow, and then they have to guess who it was. Khao gets to hit First, but as soon as they switch, they’re called down to dinner. First, however, was not about to let the opportunity pass him by.

That night everyone cosplays as themselves when they were kids and hands out these giant heart stickers. First gave his to Khao. Khao gave his to First. *Pretends to be shocked*

First and Khaotung were acting extra couple-y during their nightly interview. I've included a gif of my favorite moment below. Perth was saying that since he's new to GMMTV, he appreciated getting to know everyone. First then playfully asks him “What’s Phi’s name then?” and PerthChimon both pretend not to know.

The chin tickle 🥹

The last thing they did that night was read messages sent to them from each of their castmates. First’s message to Khaotung: Thank you. Khaotung’s message to First: I love you krup. Then they all go around giving each other hugs and I’m patiently waiting for First and Khaotung to hug, but instead they do this.

You can see that First does grab Khaotung’s hand at the end and squeeze it, but I just find the perfectly timed bro nods so funny. 

And that wraps up season 4 of Safe House! Throughout the whole season, I can count on one hand the number of times First and Khaotung weren’t in the same place at the same time and every single one of them was because the other was off doing something for production.

Thank you for putting up with me spamming your dash about a two-year-old show I only half understand. It’s been a pleasure. If you missed any installment of this particular series, you can find links to the other days below:

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6

[h3arts4harry]

- its always been you -

-

warnings: WLW ANGST, no happy ending, not v nice bf if u ask me, death

billie eilish x fem!reader

-

- billies pov -

you're 13

45 girls are at soccer tryouts, you get nervous youre not going to make the cut, pacing back and forth

"hey, you okay" you hear a soft voice ask from behind you

you dont recognise the voice

"yea just a little nervous." you reply with a slight chuckle as you turn around

"me too, dont worry to much about it im sure youll do great" says a girl with the sparkliest eyes you've ever seen

you quickly became friends from only 2-3 hours of knowing eachother.

"bye bils!" she calls out as she runs over to her mums car

"no wait-" you yell, but she doesn't hear. what if you never see her again?

its been 3 weeks and you finally got the email youd been so excited for, you made the team!

first day of practice, you see her eyes in the crowd of girls and instantly feel yourself begin to smile

you guys turn into best friends so quickly, its as if you've been friends for years

"hey how old is your brother?" she asks one day after coming to your house

"16 why?" you reply, confused

"hes cute" she says with a faint smile

a strange nauseous feeling falls over you

"oh" you manage to mutter quietly

"haha sorry" she says as she begins to feel the awkward tension filling your bedroom

but it wasn't that she liked your brother. it was because she didn't like you.

you guys stopped talking when the soccer season ended, and you dont see her ever again.

now youre 18

its your senior soccer season, and at your first game you see her on the opposite team

your eyes widen as you see shes only became more beautiful now.

a guy runs over to her and wishes her luck before hugging her and running back to the bleaches

youre knocked out of you trance by your teammate pushing you over to start warm ups

during the game, you notice her gazing at you with a confused look on her face

after the game, she runs up to you and asks "oh my god billie is it really you?"

"yeah! its been a while huh" you reply, she asks you to catch up over coffee

coffee turns into lunch then a movie and now youre both in an empty parking lot at 8pm

its like you guys never stopped talking back when you were 13

as shes talking, you cant stop staring at that sparkle in her eyes that you have always been obsessed with, now even brighter than the last time you saw her

you kiss her.

she kisses back.

she pulls back and after a short pause, speaks up

"i better get home.." she says with a shameful look on her face

"im sorry." you say as she starts to get out of your car

"no, i liked it. i just dont think my boyfriend would" she replies.

and there it is again, that funny nauseous feeling deep in her stomach

you dont see her again for almost 2 weeks and now its 3am and shes knocking on your window

you open it

"whats going on? are you okay?" you stutter as she crawls through your window

you notice she has a black eye, you heart drops

"i cant do it anymore.. i cant be with him i- i dont like him." she manages to say through her tears

"did he do this to you?" you step forward bringing you hand to her cheek

the silence and lack of eye contact is enough of an answer for you to know what happened.

"you can spend the night here, if you want" you say in hopes of keeping her away from her boyfriend

she faintly smiles and collapses into your bed

you lay down next to her and ask her if she needs anything, if theres anything you can do

she shakes her head and wraps her arm around you, snuggling into your chest, tears starting to soak your shirt

you softly draw shapes on her back trying to comfort her

"its always been you, you know.." she mumbles through her exhausted breathing

you smile and bring her tighter into your side

you wake up the next morning but shes gone, no longer in bed next to you. where is she?

'whered you go?' you text her

'she told me everything.'

your heart skips a beat, 'what?' you reply

no response.

3 days later you hear her name on the news while making yourself brunch

you feel your legs go weak, tears falling from your waterline, a loud sob escaping your mouth as you hear the words..

her body was found in her boyfriends back yard.

-

FIRST BILLIE FIC YALL

SO SO sorry for being inactive and forgetting to post this but here you go🤷‍♀️

i got this idea from those sad wlw poems literally FILLING my fyp on tiktok so creds to them id put the user but i lost the video😔

as always feedback is appreciated<33

LOVE U HOES

taglist:

@m0r94n @chrisgetsmewetterxo @raysmayhem-72 @junnniiieee07 @sturnzsblog @sturniolo-slvt @mattspolitank

[sceletaflores]

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag babes! @guiltyasdave • nsfw under the cut! 18+ MDNI!

wip #1 • show me a little bit of spine! feat. logan howlett (& crimson!)

'five x-men walk into a bar, only three walk out…'

oops i don't have a sneak peek for this one...sorry chickens.

this is an official part two to "all's fair in love and viscera" cause i can't leave them alone to save my life! i finally decided on the name crimson for this specific reader, and the au as a whole will be called the to the bone universe (that’s also how it’ll be tagged on my acc!!!)

this is jealous!logan getting down and dirty in a bar bathroom after a special someone makes a move on his girl...wink wink nudge nudge. a special guest! a very special guest, cause what better way is there to get a man off their ass and admit they like you than dirty dancing with another man in front of him.

think degradation, biting, pain kink (obvi wtf). there's also some emotional constipation and just a hint of angst. it'll be so fun!

wip #2 • says he needs it bad (oh so very bad) feat. sub!logan howlett (& crimson!)

'it’s not often that logan needs this, but you’re always more than happy to give it to him when he does…'

double oops i don’t have a sneak peek for this one either…pls forgive me!

this is also apart of the to the bone universe but it's more like a non-connecting little blurb than another part...if that makes sense lol i just wanted to write more crimson!

all this is thanks to a lovely anon who sent in a req desperately needing me to speak on sub!logan. it's funny because ofc i'll speak on sub!logan wtf who do you think i am. it's honestly one of the fluffiest, softest things i've ever written...established relationship is really locking my ass down. it's still filthy though don't worry! think riding, think pain kink, think light dustings of a breeding kink. i really don't know how to explain this lmao it's gonna be great trust me!

wip #3 • hunting for sport... feat. logan howlett (& crimson!)

'there's a big bad wolf somewhere in these woods...'

You scramble backwards, stuck watching the way the brush starts to rustle as he gets closer. You push yourself back to your feet, muscles screaming in protest as you break into a sprint. It's all in vain, you know it is. He's only playing with you, letting you tire yourself out. He’s known where you’ve been the whole time, could smell you the whole time, could hear you the whole time. The two of you have been at this long enough now, his patience is starting to run thin. He's right behind you, if the violent thrashing of the brush over your shoulder getting louder is any indication. The dull sound of claws ripping through the forest floor growing closer and closer before the entire woods suddenly tilts on its axis.

this is also in the to the bone universe! can you tell that i'm really into this au? i physically can't stop writing them...another little fic that's outside the events of parts one and two :))) who would i be if i didn't write a chase fic for this man? that's the real question. more violence heavy than the other fics listed, i got bit by the freak bug and i need to write nasty sexy violence sorry babes.

wip #4 • give it to me like a man! feat. dbf!patrick zweig

'patrick comes to your college graduation party, he gives you the best gift...'

“Yeah, I've been pretty busy since the season started. Lot’s of traveling and shit, you know?” Your dad hums in agreement, nodding his head lazily. “For sure, my schedule has been killer this season.” He brags shamelessly, tone heavy with understanding like he and Patrick are in the same boat. Only your dad’s boat is a three million dollar yacht sailing to cushy televised matches and Nike shoots while Patrick is floating on a dinghy to some barely media covered ITF matches. “It’s a miracle I even had time to fly in for the party, isn’t that right sweetheart?” Your hand slides up the length of his cock in one slow motion, your palm grinding over the tip through the denim. “Yeah, daddy.” You say, voice going light and airy around the edges. Patrick thinks it’s being said to your dad, but when his eyes flick over to you, you’re already looking at him. Eyes half-lidded and shiny as your fingers brush over the metal of his zipper.

the long awaited dbf!patrick lol i know i've been dragging this damn thing out for like three weeks but it's the most "done" fic on this list so maybe maybe MAYBE it'll actually be posted soon...

anyway this is nothing but pure filth. just straight up nasty no plot at all pure sex and fucking hard gross style. lots and lots of dirty talk, degradation, risk play, sort of public sex, a barely there daddy kink...just me being nasty on a google doc for no reason!

no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @avocado-writing (it's technically thursday but like oh em gee who cares just do it anyway chickens)

[itsghvstfvce]

WHAT'S IN A NAME | PART 2

pairing : tara carpenter x fem!reader

summary : you can keep running, but you can't run from who you are. | read part 1 here!

word count : 4.1k

warnings : scream vi spoilers but anika lives here bc she deserves better, violence stab stab stab, mentions of blood, swearing, reader is momentarily athletic, and as usual, shitty non-proofread writing lmao

Tara drags you back to her apartment with Sam and the rest of her friends that evening.

As you expected, Sam was not on board with you staying with them since you were practically a stranger to everyone. But once she saw Tara beg with the cutest pout on her face, Sam knew there was nothing she could do. She did, however, stick to your side for the entirety of the trip home to ensure you don’t do anything funny which was pretty damn intimidating; after seeing what happened at the frat party, you knew better than to fuck with the older Carpenter. Tara, Mindy, and Chad all snickered at the obvious nervousness that was evident on your face despite your protests of not feeling nervous at all.

At the apartment, Chad and Mindy set the table for dinner while you and Tara prepare the food. The two of you steal quick glances at each other, smiling as you silently check each other out.

“So where’d you learn to cook?” Tara finishes chopping carrots then drops them in the pot and you start stirring, adding a variety of seasoning at the same time to enhance its flavour.

“Self-taught. Ever since I came to the city, I had to learn how to live on my own which meant learning how to cook.”

“Where’d you move from? Do you keep in touch with your parents?”

You halt your movements at the mention of your parents and Tara takes immediate notice of this.

“Sorry, I must have hit a nerve. You don’t need to answer, I get-”

“No, you’re good,” you place the ladle down to the side and face the younger Carpenter to give her your full attention.

“Most of my life I stayed in Cali. I decided to leave for college because I wanted to see what else the world had to offer.”

“And you thought New York was the best place to go?” Tara raises her eyebrow.

You chuckled at Tara’s remark, “well it did lead me to you so yeah, I think it was,” you didn’t mean to come off as flirtatious but it’s the truth. Running away and coming to New York allowed you to meet Tara, who is now all smiles and tries to fight the pink tint that was making its way onto her cheeks, causing you to smile too.

“And your parents?” Her smile fades slightly, knowing she may be treading in dangerous waters. You take a deep breath in before answering her.

“My parents are good people. I have nothing against them.”

“Then why do you get tense when I bring it up?”

“It’s just that we haven’t talked since I came here. I’m sure they didn’t want me to move out but I pushed for it anyway, so I’ve been hesitant to reach out; only because I don’t know if they’d want to talk to me after leaving them,” Tara takes notice in the way your breath hitches slightly, trying to hold back the tears from falling. You really missed your parents; you didn’t want to run away but you couldn’t handle the life you had at home.

Tara walks towards you and grabs your hand that was gripping the counter. You relax at her touch, and she leans her head into your chest.

“I’m sure they miss you as much as you miss them, Y/N. They’re your family and family is always going to be there when you need them to be, whether you like it or not,” Tara then takes a quick look at Sam who was placing extra pillows and blankets down for everyone and a small smile makes its way onto her face. “But just know that you don’t need to contact them right away. Do it when you feel ready.”

“I honestly don’t see that happening anytime soon, but I’m definitely thinking on it.”

She takes her head off your chest and looks at you, eyes darting between the both of yours and you find yourself getting lost in her dark brown orbs once again. But to your surprise, the shorter girl takes a step back, her gaze moving from your eyes to the ground and the hem of her shirt suddenly becomes more interesting.

“I think you should get out of the city, though. Like, the three of you I mean, I wouldn’t blame any of you if you wanted to go. We put you guys in a lot of danger and-”

“That’s very thoughtful of you Tara, but I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” she glances up from her shirt to meet your eyes again but the sudden sound of fake gagging catches the both of you off guard.

“Will you two just make out already?” Mindy complains while setting the cutlery on the table.

“Mindy that is so inappropriate, come on dude!” your face heats up at the embarrassment while Tara and Chad just laugh at the current scene in front of them. But the atmosphere immediately changes when Anika points out the news being reported - Sam was being accused for the killings that took place last year in Woodsboro and they claim she placed the blame on Richie and Amber. When Sam mutes the TV and marches to the dining table, you plant yourself beside Anika while Tara, Mindy, and Chad try to comfort the eldest, deciding that it wasn’t your business to meddle in right now.

“So you and Tara, huh?” Anika asks out of the blue, nudging your arm with her elbow.

“Nah, I think it’s way too early to be saying there’s anything between us.”

“But you like her, don’t you? I mean come on, you look at her the way Mindy and I look at each other.” You simply smile and shake your head. You knew what the truth was anyway and judging by the smile on your face, Anika probably knew the truth now too.

Then multiple phones start going off at once, including yours. Hesitant, you pull out the device from your sweater pocket, and once it’s unlocked, you’re greeted with a picture of Quinn being attacked by Ghostface in her room. First you whip your head towards her door, then turn to the four still sitting at the table before all of you get up and crowd in front of Quinn’s room, grabbing Tara by the arm and pulling her close to you to stop her from doing anything irrational.

The screaming and the banging suddenly stop. The silence is eerie. The six of you stand outside Quinn’s room waiting for any sound or sign of life.

You wait.

And wait.

And wait. Until Mindy finally breaks the silence.

“Run!”

The door opens and Ghostface shoves a butchered Quinn towards all of you. The corpse falls on top of Anika and she lets out a blood curdling scream, leaving you frozen in your spot. Chad grabs Tara and they sprint towards the exit, the younger Carpenter yelling for you to follow but the rest of you couldn’t. Ghostface was right in front of you, and if any of you tried running, he could tackle you immediately.

You’re still frozen. You want to move but your feet are stuck to the ground, and you feel helpless. But you finally gain control of your body when he comes forward and slashes Mindy in the arm. As Sam frantically looks for a knife and you apply pressure to Mindy’s arm, Anika tries to hold onto his legs to stop him from hurting Mindy any more, but it backfires when he wraps his hand around Anika’s neck. She visibly turns red and struggles to get him off of her, but it was no use; he's much stronger than she is. Ghostface effortlessly picks Anika up, hand still tight around her neck, and slams her right against the brick wall where he plunges and twists the knife right into her abdomen causing another scream to escape from her throat. He mercilessly sinks the knife even deeper into the girl, making her scream even louder than she already was.

You glance towards the kitchen to find Sam still trying to find any kind of weapon. Realizing she was taking too long, you release Mindy’s arm and rush towards Ghostface, grasping his shoulder and turning him to face you before swinging a right hook right to his face. With no other option, Sam grabs the knife block and knocks Ghostface in the head making him fall to the ground. You help Anika up while Sam assists Mindy, and the four of you run into Quinn’s bedroom. Meanwhile, Tara realizes none of you were behind her and yells at Chad to go back upstairs, but to her demise, the door was locked and she left her keys inside. She begins to panic, worried about what could happen to her sister, her friends, but most importantly, you. Chad wraps his arm around the girl and starts leading her down the stairs.

You plop Anika down beside Mindy and watch as Sam holds the door closed. The banging stops after a while, but Sam notices the bathroom door was open.

“Y/N, the bathroom door, hurry!” Sam whispers, and you rush to go close it.

“Oh fuck! That guy’s dead,” you cry out loud, frightened by the sight of a carved up man in a literal blood bath. Distracted, you nearly miss Ghostface at the door and you frantically try to shove him out of the bathroom, slamming the door onto him multiple times. He manages to plant his knife into your left shoulder, luckily missing your carotid artery due to the awkward angle. You scream out in pain but still push with all your might to get him out the door. Sam comes to your side to help you push, and when he’s finally outside, you lock the door and help Sam push the dresser to block it. Ghostface doesn’t stop banging and kicking the door so you lean against the dresser to add extra weight. In the corner of her eye, Sam catches sight of Danny in the neighbouring building and he brings out a ladder for the four of you to climb across. With no other choice, Sam reluctantly agrees with his plan.

“You guys go first, Y/N!”

“What? No! Somebody needs to hold the door, let Anika and Mindy go first, then I’ll be right behind you Sam. Go!”

Just as you instructed, you watch as the three of them slowly but safely make their way across the ladder. Once they were all in the safety of Danny’s apartment, they all cry out for you and you look at the door one last time before rushing to the window.

“Come on, Y/N! Slow and steady, you can do this!”

You were never really afraid of heights, but the thought of having to cross a very unstable ladder that was high up in the air just to escape a killer heightened your anxiety by tenfolds. You breathe in deeply before taking your first step, carefully shifting your body weight as needed to avoid making the ladder more than it needed to. The encouraging words that were once spilling from the audience standing at Danny’s window start to become less frequent and eventually stop all together, causing you to stop in your tracks. You look up at them for the first time and find all of them looking like deer caught in headlights.

“What?”

“Y/N, you have to move right now!” Mindy yells almost in desperation.

You turn your head and you find the familiar black and white mask managed to make it into Quinn’s bedroom. You’ve only made it just halfway across and with Ghostface now trying to throw you off the ladder, you tried to pick up your pace.

“Come on Y/N, you gotta move!” Sam yells as Mindy and Anika watch nervously, trying their best to help Danny weigh the ladder down and keep it stable. Despite their efforts, it becomes harder to keep yourself steady. Ghostface repeatedly tosses the ladder up and down and he eventually gets it to turn over on its side so it’s no longer parallel to the ground. Everyone who was watching scream and cry in horror, fearing you'd fall right off but you maintain a solid grip. You looked down and watched how your legs dangled in the air. Your hands were getting sweatier with each moment that passed by and Ghostface clearly wasn’t going to stop until he saw your body smothered on the ground beneath you.

“Y/N you can do this, we got you! Don’t look down!”

Their voices made you look up and you can see the desperation they had to keep you alive. Gathering all the energy you had left, you swing your body to give yourself momentum and cross the remainder of the ladder Tarzan style. You’re finally able to reach for Sam’s hand but you lose your grip on it when Ghostface gives the ladder one last toss, leaving you to hang on the ladder with one hand. The blood and sweat that was on your hand was making you slip more and more until you could no longer hold yourself up. As your hand releases the ladder, Sam, Mindy, and Anika scream at the sight of your body falling in the air. You curl yourself up in attempts to protect your head and break the fall using your left shoulder by making direct contact with the dumpster that was beneath you before rolling off of it and onto the ground. Your entire left shoulder, along with some of your ribs and God knows what other bones in your body, were definitely shattered from the impact and you also felt extremely light headed, but the important thing is you weren’t dead. You deliver that message to Ghostface when you catch him looking out the window, flipping him off with a smirk on your face as the three girls sob and breathe a sigh of relief.

You wake up on a stretcher just outside an ambulance to find Tara, Mindy, and Anika sitting in the back of the vehicle itself with its doors opened. You carefully try to move but pain shoots through your entire body like lightning. The younger Carpenter shoots her head in your direction when she sees you move and she’s quick to grab ahold of your hand.

“Y/N, you’re awake!”

“Hey there daredevil, how you holding up?” Mindy asks.

“I can’t lie, I'm pretty fucking high right now,” you smile and the three of them giggle.

“What you did back there was seriously insane. Like you wouldn’t believe her upper body strength, Tara! She deadass looked like Tarzan or something,” Anika explains excitedly, but it quickly dies down when Mindy starts to talk again.

“Okay but even though it was sort of impressive to watch, you’re still on my suspect list. That could’ve just been a little act to throw us off our tracks. We still don’t know a whole ton about you, other than the fact that you’re part monkey.”

“Hey, I’m no monkey, I'm a human being!” the amount of drugs in your system cause you to slightly slur your words. Mindy smirks and decides to use your woozy state against you all while Anika shoots her girlfriend a knowing smile.

“Hey Y/N, what do you think of Tara?”

“Mindy!” the girl in question protests.

“Tara? Oh golly, she’s an absolute gem!”

“Yeah? Think she’s pretty?”

“Pretty damn gorgeous if ya ask me!” Tara starts to blush at your honesty.

“Okay Mindy that’s enough, let Y/N re-”

“Chad..” Ethan emerges from the crowd and cautiously makes his way towards all of you, worried about the state of his friends at the moment. Chad, however, was unhappy to see his roommate and he slams Ethan against a car to question his whereabouts the previous night. Even after letting him go, Mindy doesn’t allow Ethan to step foot near you.

“Step the fuck back. You’re at the top of my list.”

“I had econ!”

“Ohhhh, econ!! What's econ?” you ask, clearly still in a drugged state.

-

You spend the day in the hospital trying to recover, immense pain still spreading through your body. But when Tara tells you about Gale getting attacked and their plan to try and catch Ghostface, you beg her to let you help out.

“Are you sure you want to be discharged now? You still have a long way to go before you’re anywhere near being fully healed,” the charge nurse asks as she hands you a few papers to sign.

“I wouldn’t do this if it weren’t important. There are lives on the line and I need to help out. Thanks for everything though.”

“Just be sure to take your meds and show up to those follow up appointments, young lady.”

You smile at the lady before making your way down to the hospital lobby where you meet Tara and everyone else.

“You look like absolute shit,” Chad teases.

“Yeah, well you try falling off a ladder then pretty boy” you retort, and he playfully lifts his arms up in surrender.

“Alright captain, where we headed?” you turn to Tara.

“I’ll explain everything along the way.”

“Wait, where’s Anika?”

“I told her it was best if she stayed out of it. She’s safe with her parents,” you nod your head in approval seeing as you definitely didn’t want to see more people getting hurt.

The seven of you travel through the streets of New York City until you’re met with the busy atmosphere of the subway stations. To what you were able to get from Tara’s explanation, there was a massive theatre that held Ghostface memorabilia from over the years, and you were going to try and lure him there so you could all attack him. Although some were protesting against the plan, you thought it was better than just standing around and waiting for his next attack.

The subways were particularly packed with commuters trying to make their way to the different Halloween parties being hosted all over the city. Almost everyone around you was wearing a costume so technically, you were the ones who stood out in the crowd. It was easy to get lost with the amount of people around, so you held onto Tara’s hand as tight as you could but you didn’t miss the glare burning into the back of your head from her sister.

Despite your efforts to stay with them, the number of people made it extremely difficult to keep up. Mindy trails behind you and calls out for Chad to wait up while you call out for Tara, but Danny and other civilians push their way onto the train to force you, Mindy, and Ethan to stay back on the platform and wait for the next one. You watch the train pass by before taking a look at Mindy who lets out a sigh of frustration. The two of you are startled by a hand that touches your shoulder which just turned out to be Ethan.

“Get your Ghostface ass away from us, Ghostface.”

“Wait, so you trust her but not me?”

“I saw Y/N fall off a ladder last night so I know where she was. I can't say the same for you, though.”

“I keep telling you guys I had econ!”

“Just keep your distance, Ghostface,” Mindy pulls you away from Ethan and you two walk further down the platform as you wait for the next train.

“Hey, did you notice his eye?” you ask Mindy while she tried to make him look away from the two of you.

“No, why? Did you see something?” she turns to you.

“It looked like it was starting to bruise. And if I’m not mistaken, I’m pretty sure I landed a right hook onto Ghostface last night. You think it’s a coincidence?”

“That’d be one hell of a coincidence. He definitely has to be Ghostface, I’m calling it right now. But you’re still not completely off the hook, got it buddy?” you give Mindy a tight lip smile and nod almost immediately, causing her to giggle at your nervous reaction.

-

The train ride was anything but pleasant. With the success of the Stab films, there were a number of Ghostface costumes on the train, causing you and Mindy to be on edge the entire time. Unfortunately, you and Mindy couldn’t stick close together due to the number of people separating you two, but you made sure to keep a close eye on her and to your surroundings.

But thanks to the flickering lights, it was hard to pay attention to your environment when you couldn’t see anything. You frantically turn your head in every direction to ensure you had every space covered and checking on Mindy if she was okay. When you turn your head to the left, you find a Ghostface mask who happened to be staring right at you. You want to think it’s just another random in a costume but the way he keeps his gaze fixed on you gives you the feeling it’s not just a random person.

Anxious, you try and make your way closer to Mindy so you could stay together but as soon as you started to move, he did too. There were a bunch of people in your way, leaving you no choice but to push through them and not even bothering to say sorry. At one point, the lights shut off and it takes a while for them to come back on. You continue your trek to Mindy but it’s no use because people were being bitches stubborn and wouldn’t move out of the way. You look back to see if Ghostface caught up to you, but you can’t make out anything in the dark. The lights finally come back on and Ghostface is nowhere to be seen, confirming your suspicions that it was most likely a stranger.

But when you turn back around to push your way through to Mindy, Ghostface is right in front of you. You attempt to scream but his hand is faster and immediately covers your mouth before pushing his knife right into your stomach. A muffled scream can’t be heard with how loud the train was and the people around you were, so you were left there to struggle and Mindy didn’t even know. He shoves the knife deeper into you and the two of you slowly fall to the ground, yet no one around you seemed to notice what was going on. Ghostface finally pulls the knife out and starts walking towards Mindy but you can’t get up to stop him. The announcer on the train comes on to indicate that the train will be arriving at the platform soon which catches him off guard, and you think he won’t have enough time to attack Mindy, but you were wrong. Ghostface quickly stabs Mindy approximately in the same area as he did with you before he makes a swift exit off the train. The two of you are clutching your stomachs, putting pressure to try and minimize some of the bleeding. Ethan notices both of you and immediately calls for help while he tries to drag both of you out of the train at the same time. He drops you by a nearby post where security guards gather and call for medical services.

“Are you guys okay?!”

“Yeah, we’re so good” Mindy’s sarcasm doesn’t fail to make an appearance despite being in pain.

“Goddammit. I got it wrong again! What the fuck?” she grunts in pain. You, on the other hand, start struggling to keep yourself awake. Your eyelids feel heavy and it’s becoming harder to breathe, the rest of your body feeling limp until your head crashes onto Mindy’s shoulder.

“Y/N, stay with me, come on!”

“I’m just gonna take a nap Min, don’t worry, I’ll be up in no time.” Mindy can feel her heart break hearing the nickname come from you for the first time. Her voice is the last thing you hear before finally letting your eyelids close themselves.

“Fuck this franchise.”

a/n: hello again, reader >:) i'm giving y/n some of chad's armor plot bc let's bffr, anyone would die falling off a ladder like that lmfaooo anyway, thank you guys for all your patience! the next part will be the last one and you will finally get to know who y/n is :) hope u enjoyed!

[riacte]

Alright I love love love Skizz but why did people for FALSE & Skizz instead of False & H???? What???

It is because False gets overlooked even in a False centric poll. This is a pattern. Also sorry for using your ask as a vent post lol.

I love Skizz and his energy, I think he's awesome with people, he is certainly good at the whole "duo thing" buuuut this is not a Skizz duo poll. Or even a Hermitcraft duo poll. It is a False duo poll. I think people voted for Skizz because of Skizz, not False, or even Skizz-False. Like yeah it was funny when Skizz held False hostage in the charity event. But are people voting for moments like that or do they just like Skizz in general?

This was also what I was trying to see with the False MCC poll— 17 is of course iconic as a whole, and especially for Grian, and I would definitely rank it very high in a Hermit MCC poll (possibly right behind Blue9, sorry Orange10). But False had better performances in 29 and 10, and 9 had better chemistry than 17 because she didn't really get spoken over in 9. Or 10 and 29. (Whereas in 17 it was a Thing enough for Pete to mention it afterwards apparently.) 17 has cool False moments of course— SG the one I remember the most— but people don't really bring that up. So did people vote for 17 in a False centric poll because they liked False's performance in 17 and overall team chemistry (things related to and influenced by False) or because they like 17 in general?

It is not that deep but also seeing False's diminishing relevance in the mainstream HC fandom over the years is kinda... disappointing. Someone who's never watched a hermit on MCCReddit will mention False Supremacy. HBomb's chat loves False. Like I don't even know what happened?? False has been posting regularly, always have, she does her builds and collabs and pranks and infrastructure, she won the first event of the season, outsiders love her, and...? Like don't we love our slay cool #girlboss queen of hearts? Or does she need a different fanon archetype now? The mischievous prankster? The silly wet cat? The healer type who loves animals and gives them stupid names? The competitive warrior? Would you still love me when I'm no longer the designated girlboss of the group or whatever

Like ok yeah this is me being bitchy and a gatekeeper and False isn't even the most underrated hermit and she gets her share of love in fanart and stuff but yeah I've noticed the decline. You've got Redditors mentioning Empires people in the crossover in response to someone asking about Empires but not mentioning one hermit who was actually also in Empires. You've got people talking about "Hermitgals" but they replace False and Stress with Lizzie. You've got the fallout of Demise 2. You've got Redditors talking about Rendoc in relation to Ren like his only relevance is being Doc's friend/collab buddy when False exists and she's his favourite hermit. And you've got the False duo poll. Won't even go into the view counts/ sub counts because that's depressing for what feels like at least a third of the hermits (Cubfan you deserve way more). Doesn't feel good.

Back in 2020/21 she got shat on and her achievements ignored by some DSMP fans and now the same thing is happening but it's worse because it's from some HC fans. The call is coming from inside the house. And once again False isn't even the most overlooked hermit. For example Iskall STILL gets horrific hate comments about how he doesn't "deserve" to be a hermit because he plays VH more.

Hermitcraft is popular. I wish the other third of it is more popular.

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #27

The Battle of Big Wand

Part 2 of reacting to this episode (spoiler-free)!

Cosmo talking about the Big Wand going down: Better check with I.T. Hazel: Just I.T.? No fancy fairy name?

why is this so funny to me

Y'know... I've have a post in my drafts for ages that mocks Anti-Cosmo's castle entrance for not being wheelchair-friendly (because the road is covered in spikes). If he took over and then put spikes on this new road, I'm gonna lose it.

OH, I NAILED my "After thinking about it, this is my final answer" prediction. Dev is in the house! oh, good gravy.

This is the second time he's tried to be a king, and I think it's funny he hasn't tried to be a company president or anything. Not fantasy enough for him.

It's stupid funny to me that Dev just turned 10 and he's got impressive muscles when he flexes. what is this child doing- bench pressing solid gold??

We've been robbed of Dev wishing himself into one of the puzzle games he likes and getting buried under, like... Tetris blocks and having to claw his way out.

That might make a good 'fic; I feel like "wishing to be inside an app" is very correct for him.

??? whaaat does he have? He's got portable wishes of some kind? Is it a shooting star? oh, goodness. Let me think, let me think...

!! Crocker has these in the finale of Jimmy Timmy Power Hour 1. He throws them at the ground near fairy guards to poof them into animals. They're grenades. lmao, Dev got into the Fairy Armory.

Canonically, the Fairy Armory is the only place in Fairy World that still has power during outages, so... epic magic fight with weapons?? Ooooh, I hope so!

Irep is back, I knew it!! Part of me suspected he wouldn't be here because he's not really known for being a team player, but I'm glad he is :) Let's go Anti-Fairies!!

I'm delighted Anti-Cosmo isn't taking lead. Also, for some reason it's hilarious to me that Irep is focused on Hazel and not interested in addressing Cosmo or Wanda. He used to greet them as Auntie and Uncle, and now he's like "I don't need their approval or love."

Uh-oh... Has he sorted out his needy issues? If he's too old for naps and we can't bribe him with hugs, how will we defeat him??

I wanted to see if he uses their honoraries in "Fairly Odd Fairy Tales" (since he does it when he's being polite and I knew he was offering food). He doesn't, but I like how Wanda straight-up fed her nephew an apple that puts him to sleep until his true love kisses him, then looks dead at the viewer and says "And then we all lived happily ever after." Is the implication that no one will ever love him, so he's unconscious forever?? omg. Wanda's very black and white view of things is so incredibly funny to me, especially since she grew up in a mob family.

I'm excited to see Dev and the Anti-Fairies. Who would win: the species that invented papercuts, or a little boy who longs for lemonade?

Are you telling me Cosmo and Anti-Cosmo are BOTH intimidated by Irep now? Either this is about to be super funny, or they've switched.

Did Anti-Cosmo finally step up his parenting? Not out of the question; in Season 10, Foop was in time-out for putting spiders in his spaghetti.

(How ironic, considering Foop liked eating spiders).

I rewound and Cosmo jumps when the magic hits, before he sees Irep, so he's not necessarily afraid of him. Also, keeping my fingers crossed for anti-family interactions. I'm really looking forward to a face-off between Irep and Peri; their banter is my favorite and we didn't get much in "Best of Luck."

I'm so glad that despite changing his name, Irep presents himself with the same flair he always did. He is the same person...

omg, his little cufflinks. He's adorable.

For some reason, I've called him "posh British boy" in two previous posts, but... idk why, because he's literally never been posh and I know that. I'm glad he looks like his aesthetic is "bad boy with the tiniest detail of fancy."

I hope he's still friends with Sammy Sweetsparkle :) Maybe they're in a gang. I know there's 0 chance of Sammy being in this episode, but can you just imagine if Foop took out his wallet and there's a picture of Sammy in it.

Actually... if he's got a little metal circle there, I think that implies his jacket is closer to denim than leather. Lemme check......

OH, interesting... Yeah, he and Sammy don't match.

I don't say it enough, but it's really freakin' funny to me that Foop spends a distressing amount of "Certifiable Super Sitter" following Sammy or spying on Sammy and/or reacting to everything Sammy says. He's just Like That... Like, I enjoy the implication that of all the places Foop could go when his parents canonically left him unsupervised for the week, he likely chose to hit up the Turner place in spite of his hatred for Poof because Sammy is there. Silly.

Anyway...

Dev: Yeah, yeah, yeah... and Irep. Joint conquerors of Fairy World.

OMFG, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Was I RIGHT that Anti-Cosmo isn't even at the takeover!? Local introvert hates leaving his house and never wanted Fairy World anyway; more at 11. I'll be there!!

Plot twist, Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda don't actually show up in this episode because they're busy flirting while Irep's away.

I clocked the design aesthetic of the taken-over Fairy World as "This is Irep and Dev as partners; Anti-Cosmo wouldn't do this" so hard. crying. how did I do that. it's not getting better than this.

"Let's get DEV-ious!!"

dlkfgm, once again losing it at Dev using his first name rather than the "Dimm" part of his surname when he makes puns. He's a Dimmadome, but... he's kind of his own twig on the tree.

It is unreasonably funny to me that Irep's wand is so heavy considering he had massive muscles as a child after his Abracatraz imprisonment ("Spellementary School" & "Timmy's Secret Wish").

Also, I am FASCINATED by the decision to give Irep one little zipper tab that hangs off his jacket. Impeccable.

I love this team already. These are two people who are both known for:

- Coming from upper class families - Having parent-related abandonment issues - Not showing a lot of restraint - Only showing restraint when they've REALLY gone too far

Hmm... Oh boy, let me think. We know Dev's [previous] line was that he didn't like his dad shocking people's brains for money, with Dev having strained feelings even when he was trying to convince himself the shocks could be good ("You can help kids!") And he did feel bad about fighting with Hazel, though he's definitely Going Through the Wringer right now.

And Irep's line in the OG series is that he was totally down for:

- Tormenting his parents - Annihilating Crocker for not inviting him to his house party (whom he hilariously calls Denzel when he's mad at him) - Pointing his school's playground slide into the void - Sending Cosmo and Wanda on a dinner date to a black hole - Poof dying (despite the fact their lives were tied together)

- but he wouldn't allow anyone to harm Chloe, who finally introduced him to hugs.

He made it very clear he wasn't willing to face Vicky to save his own life, even on the verge of death, but he'd do it for her or for chicken cordon bleu. And she's not here, and we're all out of chicken cordon bleu. Uh-oh…

- Would Irep rate Hazel hugs 10/10? Inquiring minds need to know. - Is Dev bribing Irep with hugs? Or is Irep just here for the chaos and assurances that Dev's having more fun with him than Peri? - Is Irep bribing Dev with hugs? Are they pumping each other up with positive affirmations?? Go king; continue the healing cycle!

If Irep's parents show up, I hope he's on good terms with his mom, who used to pack chicken nuggets and anti-venom in his lunch box :)

Dev's faith in his ability to not fall off his O-pairs makes me nervous every time he's ever been onscreen.

His dad might let him down, but the O-pairs never have.

[ cnt'd - #Long post ]

All I've been thinking about for ages is an AU where Dev and Mikey Munroe (Bunsen Is a Beast) switch drones for a day, so Mikey's parents freak out that they can't monitor their son 24/7 and meanwhile, Dev just... can't get his dad's attention despite the two-way microphone and camera screen. Also, Mikey spends most of his time making noises into the O-pairs' fans. It's always been my headcanon that Mikey's parents installed the Buxaplenty's and Leadly's security systems (hence the buttons releasing different dogs & the lethal lightning bolts) since I think "ooh, rich people want us" helps justify why his parents are gone for months or years at a time when we know their job is designing home security, so basically... all the cool rich people use them. I actually have a WIP of Mikey and Remy playing near the Buxaplenty train tracks when they were little, but I never found a plot point strong enough to carry it to the end. Anyway, I've been waiting to see what the Dimmadomes have in terms of security, but it's... nothing yet. Plot twist, Dale has trust issues even with the people installing security?? ... I think he'd be friends with Mikey's parents. Maybe. Actually, I might need a 'fic about Dale having a meltdown when he goes home for the first time in 7 years and doesn't trust that Vicky won't sneak in to get him. He needs the world's best security team. It's two terrible parents afraid of literally everything. Yes, they ditched their kid for this. Don't worry about it. y'know... It's really messed up that Mikey's parents are terrified of everything, but they leave their 12-year-old home alone with the pets for months or years at a time, "but it's fine because they're spying on him 24/7 and sometimes give him gifts (like medicated wipes)." His dad is implied to have a fear of germs and I've always wondered if that plays into them not being anywhere near Mikey... Plot twist- We pull a "My Gym Partner's a Monkey" (where the reason we don't see Adam Lyon's parents is because they're severely allergic to animal hair and Adam has to thoroughly wash when he's home and they can't go to school events), but it's Mikey's parents fleeing Muckledunk because they're either allergic or afraid of Beasts. They left their son... Okay, I just checked my notes and I have a line here that says "Mikey's obsession with soft things like animals, beards, and blankets is probably because his parents never touch him." help??

Anyway, I think an AU where Dale hovers over Dev 24/7 and is still a terrible dad would be funny. Instead of neglect, it's obsession... Especially at this age since Dev's as old as Dale was when his trauma started.

... Is Dale putting distance between himself and Dev on purpose because Dev looks exactly like him and is now the age when Dale's life came crashing down? idk if Dale had access to mirrors back then, but that's gotta be weird.

crying at Irep waiting for his cue to pull Dev's flashbacks down from the top of the screen. They rehearsed this. Painfully in-character (In "Secret Wish," Foop claims he waited 10 minutes outside so he could burst in at a dramatic moment).

The way Irep twists his legs gives me Anti-Cosmo vibes.

Rare "Winn without cap" spotted in the wild.

Dev has the room oriented the wrong direction and in doing so, he forgot to include the door. Emotionally, he's stuck in this room. lmao.

Maybe it's a class that's not Guzman's since we know from "Multiverse of Jenkins" that these kids do attend other classes. But... Dev, what's goin' on, buddy?

INCREDIBLY funny to me that Bev sits directly in front of Dev? I gotta go back and fact-check that sometime. Has he been harboring his crush on her because she's right there? That's great!

??? If she DOESN'T sit there then I have to assume Dev is just so Bev-centric that he WANTS her to be there, and that's very funny. Go chase your sporty crush, rich boy. I support you.

Okay, I went back, and it seems his canon seat is between Bev and Kev (with Kev behind Hazel), but Kev vaporizes when we need to center Hazel and Dev onscreen at the same time (such as Dev faking sick and Hazel glaring at him). Oh my glob, he's another witch... Dev, embrace your ancestral witch-hunting for me, plz and ty. It would be funny... /checks my witch notes as a joke and screeches to a halt. Oh my goodness, I could finally get a Soil Tribe child in my roster... I have their magic down as "causes host to fade unnoticed into the background," and it would be very funny to do something magical with the child model. ??? On my first watch of "28 Puddings Later," I don't think I saw that scene of Dev falling over and losing his shades when the pudding throne collapses. Must've missed it while taking notes. That's cute.

I like how Dev's memories are 2D like the photos we've seen throughout the series. Also, Hazel's so dang cute.

I'm glad Dale's pants look the same in both the New Wish and old 2D style despite no FOP character ever wearing anything with that many dots.

I like that Dev's hair is much shinier than his dad's, implying Dale still has the dullness that comes with being soft instead of slick.

- I'm assuming this means either Dev's hair is gelled or he gets that from the maternal side of his family? - idk man, this is very in line with my "Dev's mom is a Leadly" headcanon... At this point, I can't NOT torment him with two very rich and extremely messed-up sides of his family... They both have extreme branding and weird fixations and funky buildings and run big businesses that have brought in incredible amounts of money and they like tech and call people the wrong names... do you see what I see...

I'm DELIGHTED Dale's hair curls up in the back. I've been so sad that he lost his tuft when he grew up. This is clever.

!!! oh yeah, Dale has his dad's stripe! Technically he and Dev both have the stripe, but I love the subtle differences in their hair. While collecting screenshots for an earlier post, I noticed the hair above their ears is combed in different directions, like this:

- with Dale showing the stripe much more clearly than Dev does. I like the implication that Dev's stripe is gold. That's really cute.

I checked, and the gold streak does seem to be in the place he has the Dimmadome family stripes in his 2D form (Eyebrow level). Neat!!

Aw, Irep's a big boy! And his hair grew out blue!! Parents' genes came out kickin'. I did wonder. I think it's funny his mustache and goatee are still black.

Despite losing the black hair, he's not yet immune from "Irep, are you sure one of your parents wasn't actually pixie?" allegations. This is stupid funny to me... In my Cloudlands AU, the Anti-Fairies are always dunking on him for having black hair like Anti-Cosmo's ex-wife, but no one can say anything because unlike Anti-Cosmo's first heir (Talon), Foop was born with the iris virus (colored eyes), so he's "been accepted by the nature spirits" and is heir apparent.

... Seeing this many colored eyes is giving me incredible amounts of anxiety, but it would not be appropriate to clarify why out of context. I like the guy with hair over his eyes and a big hat.

Is Irep leading the charge these days? Do the Anti-Fairies take orders from him?

Did Anti-Cosmo step down!? Because considering how much he hates conflict, I wouldn't be slightly surprised, omg...

I think it's funny that if Dev uncovers any official documents or watches memory clips that flashback to Irep's past crimes, he'd probably be like "Why is there no paper trail for this Irep guy? who tf is Foop?"

WAS that his experience of browsing the anti-web? I have to assume it was- I can't imagine Anti-Fairy World would cross his path without Foop's name coming up.

?? Considering that in my previous post, I said I couldn't think of any reason for Anti-Cosmo to desire taking over Fairy World unless he managed to score the earth and/or godkids out of it...

I'm so glad Dev just dropped "They have to take over Fairy World so they can rule Earth." slkdfj?? okay...

Irep: Now we can rule BOTH! Anti-Cosmo: That just sounds like scoring godkids with extra work.

THEM!! I am once again so intrigued by the lore that A.J. went into parascience and is following in Crocker's footsteps?? You've no idea how much I need to know what the A.J.-Crocker relationship is.

crying at Irep making a peace sign when he gets in front of the camera with Dev. Doesn't he do that in his profile pic on Dark Laser's phone? He's literally the same person he's always been. I missed him so much.

PLEASE do not tell me Dev's full name is Development "Devin" Dimmadome. The quote marks Dale puts around "Devin" are making me lose it.

Dale's partner: Honey, can you stop thinking about business for 5 minutes so we can pick a name for our son? Dale, who comes from a family that usually just slaps their name on things: I got this.

?? I'd LOVE to know what's going on with Dev's mom. Did she die in childbirth and had no say in naming her son, and Dale took over from there? Is she alive, but divorced from and/or passive around him?

Like... I have to assume she had the most exquisite prenatal care through a rich family like this, especially if we assume she also came from a wealthy family cough- Leadlys.

Holy flipping plot twist, does Dev not have a mom at all? He looks exactly like his extraordinarily wealthy dad. Was he just cloned so Dale could pass the business on someday? Did Dale just kinda buy him and wait for the surrogate to hand him over, and he never formed any attachment to him as a baby because he had the O-Pairs / au pairs raise him? lmao!!!

Traumatized beyond belief for 7 years by a girl his age so he trusts absolutely no one and never learned what a healthy relationship was like even with a partner, let alone his son. smh.

Actually, it's very funny to think of him and Vicky splitting up. Like, it was extremely toxic and not romantic in the slightest, but she straight-up identified him when she saw his face in "Operation: Birthday Takeback" even though logically, that would have been 70 years since she was last close to him. She probably knew him pretty well, especially since his hair has changed.

Timmy can't have frozen the timestream any earlier than Channel Chasers in Season 4 when he learns he'll lose Cosmo, Wanda, and his memories when he grows up, which is the reason he cites for freezing time in "Timmy's Secret Wish," and that was 50+ years. It's been 20 more on top of that for Dale to grow up and his son to turn 10. We know Vicky and Doug Dimmadome very, very occasionally crossed paths in later seasons (Vicky tries to sell him the Stryker Z in Season 3's "Engine Blocked").

If anyone cares, this (Season 3) is presumably where Dale grew up unless Doug took him to Dimmadelphia.

Like?? Something about the fact that Vicky and Dale are the same age is funny as heck to me. New Wish canon heavily implies Vicky's been taking advantage of Dale since they were 9, and they might've been friends once upon a time (despite the fact that in both New Wish and the OG series, she can never remember who the Dimmadomes are, lol).

There's no way Doug did a good job of looking for him, or Vicky would've turned him in for reward money. I wonder if Dale had a history of sneaking off to play with Vicky and just never came home one day.

Do you think that after her bossing him around for 7 years, Dale was really messed up and didn't know how to make choices for himself?

Oh, that's awful!! Who would write a 'fic about him running away to look for Vicky and beg her to take him back because he doesn't know how to be a person anymore and needs schedules and instruction? Who would do that?? I'm fascinated by their dark, twisted, and incredibly under-explained vibe. Haha, I'm in danger...

oh no, and Dev even told us his father relies on algorithms over his own thoughts, and we KNOW Dale was upset his publicity team said he should talk to people face to face instead of sending the O-Pairs or hiding behind holograms... A snarky Dev told us he thinks "talking to people isn't [Dale's] thing..." I'm connecting the dots...

hey wtf. does Dale have issues with scraping by in the dirt and dark with limited food and water and nothing to his name for 7 years and that's why he freaks out when he loses money? He can't handle the thought of not having a house??

Holy flip, I wish he'd communicate his trauma to his son, but I'm yelling that we keep seeing hints that he's withholding things from Dev. Like ?? Dale explains his thoughts all the time (in monologue fashion), but he's clearly keeping some things under wraps since Dev didn't have any concept for who Vicky was or why she knew his dad.

I genuinely think Dale doesn't want Dev to know the details. Dev didn't even seem to have a good grasp of why he isn't allowed lemonade, or at least that was my read considering how grumpy he was about it.

omg, this is horrible. who would write a 'fic about Dale taking his son camping and then slipping off to have a total meltdown where Dev won't see. who would do that.

Like, I think at this point they're so rich, you'd have to assume they're not at risk of losing everything if Dale took time off work, but we KNOW he's stuck on that schedule Vicky raised him with (working on Saturdays, which we see him do multiple times), and we KNOW he's always trying to claw his way up despite having the money to buy literally anything he could ever want.

And we KNOW Dale's big thing is that he loses his entire flippin' mind when the money slows down ("You still making sales?" / "Yes, but they're dropping, Dev!") and he's willing to stalk and hurt people to keep it coming in.

Y'know, this is continuing my theory that Doug Dimmadome is probably dead. I legit think Dale lost his support system (possibly around Dev's birthday considering how clingy he is about boots and says they came into his life on that day, plus the golden boots with the "In honor" plaque he has in his house). Daddy's not bailing him out of this one...

Lovely that Dale's first words to Dev after finding out he's taken over Fairy World are "My son." Oh, NOW he wants to talk...

I also find out my son is working with the fey and immediately drop his full legal name.

Why is Dale both the worst person alive and the only dad ever? I need to flatten him with a cruise liner (carnally).

Happy boy... (Dev, don't trust him.)

omfg, Irep's not buying this for a second.

?? I feel like it makes things WORSE that Dale seems at least a little aware of how upset Dev is about the boots? "I'm so proud of my son; it almost makes me want to throw away my boots." - There's no way he doesn't know he's been screwing with Dev's head for the last 5 months. omg.

- Hey, does Dale treat Dev this way because Doug made Dale feel like he was playing second fiddle to his giant hats?? I can't help but notice this whole city has a hat theme, yet Dale doesn't seem to care for hats at all... which is interesting, because we know Dimmadelphia existed way before Doug got here. Doug in my theory: /died 10 years ago Dale: If I touch Dad's hats or add boot statues around the city, he'll totally kill me. - ?? I guess the alt theory is that Dale put all the hat stuff up as memorials to his dad, which doesn't sound far-fetched since again... he keeps THIS in his house:

... Huh. I guess it could be a trophy for Dale instead of a memorial. That's another relevant time to use "In honor." What does it say about me that "omg his dad is dead and he bronzed his boots as a keepsake" was my first thought when I saw this in "Operation: Birthday Takeback" and not "Dale is successful of his own merit"? Obsessed with the implication that Dev's brand image is his sunglasses... Three Dimmadomes go down in history: The Hat, The Boots, and The Shades.

I still think Dale should have a gun. Not to be helpful; just to keep things spicy...

Please go to the Fairy Armory: the one place in Fairy World that canonically keeps power during blackouts. I am begging. I feel like his Southern daddy would want this for him. Doug had a flamethrower.

Is Dev still holding those magic grenades, and what would happen if someone tackled him in a hug?

SDLJKFSDKLFJSDF I'm on the floor. Did I call it? No way... But is Anti-Cosmo only going to show up now that Dev's giving godkids to Anti-Fairies??

Irep: Yo, I'm going to take over Fairy World; anyone want anything? Anti-Cosmo: The same thing I always want: a new child. Irep: wtf

Oh, all that time I spent speculating instead of actually watching the episode the night I started was so worth it. I was really nervous people would grump at me for how I see Anti-Cosmo, but now I feel like I was set up for a slam dunk.

Also, I like how Dev's taken over Jorgen's office. I didn't notice at first, but that's clever.

Dale is so proud despite the fact Dev taped his mouth shut and tossed him aside. That's so funny...

omg, this pit looks dark.

Will Dev torment his dad with lemonade? Is Dale going into the dark torture pit that swings open from the top like a trapdoor, which parallels his underground trauma to a T, or is that going too far?? Is Dev going to dump on his dad about Vicky? Will Dale freak out when he realizes he accidentally hired his abuser of 7 years to babysit his son? Will Dale be joining Club Redheads Who Didn't Get Mindwiped? (I hope not, because Vicky's in it). Will Dev bully his father while he has all this power and then wipe his mind?? So many questions. Find out next time...

[graveyardlifeguard]

Survivors Part 2

Summary: Occurs during the events of Season 4x13 and Season 4x14 of 9-1-1.

*This is my first attempt at writing after many, many years so please go easy on me*

Warnings: Shooting, Injury, Blood

Notes: This one's going to be a touch long so I don't have to break it so awkwardly, but the next part will be out really soon!

Strictly Angst with a teeny tiny bit of Fluff

Eddie Diaz x Paramedic! Reader

Later that night at home, Chris and I stood by the door and watched as Eddie fiddled with the couch pillows. Carla was coming back tonight, and Eddie was only slightly excited about her return. He had been fussing over intricate details since we had gotten home from work.

“What do you think? That looks better right?” Eddie asks, still fussing over the same two pillows he has been playing with for the last 5 minutes.

“I think it looks exactly the same.” Chris laughs as we watch Eddie continue to fluff the pillows.

“I just want everything to be perfect. It’s been over a year” Eddie finally turns around to look at Christopher and me.

“It’s going to be awesome!” Chris says. He had missed Carla more than anything in the world. With Eddie obviously in the number 1 spot, there was no doubt in my mind that Carla was number 2 on his list of favorite people. She had always been a steady female presence in his life that I knew that he needed. Whether he knew it or not. My thoughts are quickly interrupted by the knocking at the door that Chris excitedly moves towards. Opening the door, Chris all but screams Carla’s name before she laughs and wraps him up in a giant hug. The smiles on Christopher and Eddie’s faces are bright enough to light all of California with. Letting Christopher have the first hug, Eddie and I move slowly towards Carla before joining in the hug. If Carla didn’t feel missed based off of the giant hug, I don’t know how else we could have shown her.

Sitting around the table just like old times, eating and laughing together brought back a lot of great memories. Christopher had just gotten done telling Carla one of his crazy stories from school. “I’m sure your teacher was thrilled.” Carla laughs in return at his story. Noticing that the plates are empty, Eddie leans forward to grab them up as I quickly jump up to grab them for him.

“No, no, no let me grab those” I say, hurriedly moving to gather up the plates.

Carla tries to offer her help with Chris jumping in to stop her, “You can’t go in the kitchen!” Chris exclaims.

Carla gives him a funny look while I try to cover out tracks, it’s a secret that Christopher is very adamant on.

“That’s right,” I start as Eddie smiles and nods is head in agreeance, “we have some business to take care of." Carla chuckles as Christopher and I head off towards the kitchen.

We dump the dirty plates into the sink before I grab both of the cakes we made out of the oven, where we left them to sit until the right moment.

“Can we yell surprise when we come out of the kitchen?” Chris asked.

I laughed and before responding, “Well of course, how else would we surprise her.”

Christoper had begged us to make Carla two cakes, one for each birthday we had missed with her while she was away. He had chosen the colors of the cake, pink and blue. He had explained to Eddie and me that we needed both colors to split between the two boys and two girls. Opening the kitchen door and stepping out, we both yelled surprise, catching Carla off guard. Christopher walked up to Carla and wished her a Happy Birthday; we all knew her birthday is in March, but it felt right to celebrate the ones we missed together. Plus, who didn’t love extra cake.

“Light the candles dad.” Chris says to Eddie with Eddie magically pulling out candles from thin air. Carla looks over the two cakes, quickly counting the number of candles that were scattered across both tops.

“Okay that is a disturbing number of candles.” She laughs as Chrisopher moves to stand next to me.

“Thank goodness there’s a firefighter and paramedic in the house.” I smile up at Christopher, loving the way he had absolutely lit up with Carla back around. I know he had missed her and had certainly taken it hard when she had to leave to be with her dad. He was sad but also understood that she needed to be with her dad just like he needed to be with his. Looking back towards the table, I couldn’t help but notice the way that Eddie was already smiling at me. He looked at me the way that every girl wanted to be looked at. The smile that he gave me made it hard for me to not smile back. He and Christoher were my entire world and there was nothing that I wouldn’t do to keep them with me.

————

The next shift was exactly like the last one, busy and filled with paperwork. I was at the station for maybe thirty minutes in total, all day. And somehow not once did I run calls with the 118. Which meant that I did not get to see or talk to any of them, excluding Hen who had called to get advice about a call they were on, until it was time to pack up and go home for the day. Luckily, my relief had shown up early, meaning that I was able to shower and change before I normally was able to. Walking out of the dorms, I find Eddie standing at the bay door, a contemplative look on his face.

I make my over to him before asking, “What’s got you thinking so hard my love?” He looks up, startled, as if I had completely snuck up on him. He gives me one of his dazzling smiles before shaking his head.

“Just a call we went on today, something seems off but I’m not sure what it is.” he replies.

That’s understandable. I feel like most of the calls we run nowadays are just off. I had honestly chalked most of it up to being my paranoia from the crazy Covid calls we received.

“Do you want to talk about it on the way home? Maybe I can help you work it out.” I ask him.

He smiles and shakes his had before saying, “We’ve both had a hell of a day, work is going to stay at work. It’s my time to have you all to myself.”

He bumps his shoulder into mine before grabbing my hand and leading us to the car. After the shift we had, it was nice to know that no one needed us. At least for the next 9 hours that was.

At home, I had opted to start the laundry while Eddie moved into the kitchen to start dinner. Carla and Christopher were in the living room reading together when we got home. After receiving a huge hug from Chris, I started into the bedroom to collect our laundry basket. Once laundry was started, and I was in much more comfortable clothes, I made my way into the living room. Only to find it empty with voices being heard in Christophers room. Inside, Christopher, Carla and Eddie seemed to be sorting through old toys of Chris.’

“Wow, someone’s feeling generous.” I comment after finding the trio, moving to sit down on the floor near Chris’ bed.

“I got to talk to a boy that Dad met at work, he’s sick and can’t go out much. I want to give him some of my old toys.” Christopher replies. He hands over an old police car and book that I know he hasn’t played with in a while. Looking up at Eddie, he notices the hint of confusion on my face. I know we hadn’t talked much, but I hadn’t heard of his new friend he seemed to have made today.

“Did you happen to see the structural collapse call were on around lunch time?” He questions. I shake my head ‘no’ as I lean over to help go though toys.

Eddie continues on after seeing my answer, “This boy’s mom semi-fell through her balcony and her son, who’s around Chris’ age, called it in. He has an auto-immune disorder and isn’t able to leave the house much. I ended up staying with her son while she went to the hospital.”

The story quickly catches my attention. My head shoots up and can I tell my face is giving away my thoughts. It so often does as Eddie continuously points out to me.

“Would this call happened to have occurred at The Regal Point Apartments?”

Eddie looks up at me and nods, “Yeah it was, I thought you didn’t see the call? Well anyways the mom was telling me that since she has to stay home and take her of her son, people have been generous enough to donate to them through online donation sites. Chris here had the great idea of donating some of his toys to the son.”

There it is again.

There’s that red flag, waving now at the forefront of my mind. This has to be Shiela and Charlie. I think it over before standing up and telling Chris how proud I am of his generosity. “I’ll be right back.” I state to the group before exiting the room. Eddie gives me a questioning look as I leave.

————

Making my way into the kitchen, I sit down at the kitchen table, open my laptop, and begin doing some research on Sheila and Charlie Leute on a local Fund Me page. Although I began my search locally, I quickly find multiple Fund Me pages scattered across the West coast. The most interesting detail is the fact that each account with their first name ends up coming back with a different last name. The red flag initially waving in my brain is now the size of a football field. I knew it. Jumping up from the kitchen table, I walk back towards where I know the trio still sat. Leaning up against the door frame, I look over to Eddie, knowing that this would hurt his feelings.

“Hey Eddie, can I talk to you for a second?” I ask, starting to walk back towards the kitchen.

Eddie glances up at me before he stands up and starts making his way towards me. He stops short of the doorway and turns back to Carla and Chris.

“Don’t let him give away the whole house while I’m gone!” Eddie continues behind me where we start back towards the kitchen. I can hear Carla laughing at Eddie’s comment, she knows that Christopher is just that generous to do so.

“What’s going on?” Eddie questions.

“I was thinking about what you said, how that family supports themselves through their Fund Me page, so I started looking around.” I sit back down at the laptop while Eddie chooses to lean up against the cabinets. It was hard to stay focused on the task at hand when he did things like that. Something about him leaning against things had an unnecessary affect on me.

“You went snooping?” I can feel the questioning look aimed towards the back at my head. I swivel in my seat so he can see the serious look on my face. Although the hint of a smile on my face certainly doesn’t help my case. I begin fiddling with my ring finger, where my actual engagement ring sits on full display. Being able to see it and feel it helps me relax, my body already knowing how important this situation is.

“The family and story just seemed really familiar to a call I had the other night. At the same address. I was hoping for it be a coincidence but that’s unfortunately not the case. Alicia and I went out there the other night for the son and something just didn’t seem right then. I thought I was just being overdramatic, so I let it go. But I think there is something wrong with this woman. I think she lied to us”

Eddie gives me yet another confused look before pulling out the chair beside me and sitting down. He throws his arm over my shoulder and slides the chair closer to me. I can tell that he understands how strongly I feel about this just by the look he is giving me.

“Well,” He starts “you know I trust your instincts so what do you have?”

[schemmentis]

La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 24

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21 / Part 22 / Part 23

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

Summary: Your new life continues...but the past has a funny way of coming back.

WC: 3.1k

Melissa keeps her word. She’s able to keep Lena with her mother while everything gets sorted out. And when it comes down to it, Lena and her mother end up staying in your guest room for a bit until they can get back on their feet.

So, the names Melissa and Y/N slowly fade away and become a thing of the past for the time being. Only when you’re positive that the other family is out of the house do you call each other by your real names.

After a few months, your girls are trying to convince Lena’s mother to stay with the four of you. Even though you’d arranged it so Lena had even gone to summer camp with them, and it had been months since that trip on top. With a bit of savings, and a few favors from one of the real estate guys you know, they’ve found their own little townhouse not too far from yours. You ensure they know the space is always there for them if it’s needed but you don’t beg like your daughters. You and Melissa have to bribe them with a movie weekend to get them to stop pouting once Lena and her mother officially move out. Despite the fact they still see Lena every day at school and spend plenty afternoons afterward between both of your houses.

By then, it’s the end of summer. Your wife has stolen the laptop you share for late nights putting together her lesson plan for the new year. Thankfully, this is your job’s slow season. You gladly hand primary possession to Melissa, taking over dinner and other evening chores in her stead so she doesn’t have to worry about anything that isn’t getting everything straightened out for the new school year. You knew she hated feeling unprepared, especially when it came to teaching.

It wasn’t the same as the restaurant. That brief glimmer of a dream come true that you try not to think about because of all the other things it was wrapped up in. It isn’t the same but you still see that spark of passion, even if it isn’t as bright for this profession as her previous. You see it all the same and smile with every new school year for the reminder of it.

You take a rare Monday half-day the day the school year starts. It used to be because you had to in order to ensure the girls were to school on time. One less thing for your wife to worry about that day even if it was in the same building. Plus, you got to sneak a little extra time with her yourself after seeing the girls to class.

Now, it’s out of habit though you’ve switched to taking the afternoon instead of the morning off. Especially since the girls try to speed walk away from the car that morning before you or Melissa can get out of it to avoid being seen with you. Like their friends don’t know who you are. In particular who Mrs. Vinci the second grade teacher is.

“Okay, bye!” Your wife shouts once she’s stepped out of the car herself. “Have a great first day! Mommy loves you!!”

You see the cringe of two pairs of shoulders as they duck inside while you step to Melissa’s side. “You did that one on purpose.” You accuse.

“No idea what you mean, Amore.” She murmurs as she loops her arm with yours to start walking in together. The smirk on her lips tells you she knows exactly what you mean and it very much was on purpose.

“Don’t torture them for not sayin’ goodbye at lunch, huh?” You suggest as you round the corner to head down the hall for her classroom. “It’s too early in the year for me to referee at dinner.”

“Honey, you’re refereeing in this family year round and you know that.” She retorts. Her arm unhooks from yours to pull out her keys to unlock the door that she props open. 

You lean against the doorway as she crosses to her desk. Her mug of coffee sat down along with her purse. “I could bring you lunch instead?” You offer a more tempting solution. “Sandwiches from your favorite deli? That’s a good start to the school year, huh?”

“You wanna renew our vows?” Melissa jokes in place of a yes. Still, she grins at you a moment later when she glances up from organizing her desk. “What’d I say? Refereeing twenty four seven, Amore. Without even meanin’ to.” She winks before turning her attention back to getting ready for the day.

You take what you know to be an absolute joke to heart though. “We never did officially get married as Raphaela and Saoirse.”

“I was joking, my love,” your wife chuckles softly. She sees the way that you look at her though, a softness that is only reserved for her. “Maybe.”

“I have to head to work,” you kiss her gently. “But you have a great first day, and please… don’t embarrass our girls. Please.”

“I make no such promises,” Melissa tells you earnestly. Then her lips quirk upwards. “I swear, all I do is breathe sometimes, and Cat flips her shit.”

“She takes after you,” you remind her. “Rosie definitely takes more after me.”

“That she does.”

You press one last kiss to her lips before you head out to your own job. 

It’s a slow day for you, and one of your clients ends up having the last name ‘Howard’. It takes you back years as your mind is flooded with memories. You wonder what they’re up to. Is Barbara still teaching at Abbott? Is Gerald still a senator? That gets you thinking about what the rest of your group is up to. After going down the rabbit hole and being relieved that both sets of parents are still alive and well, you check a few of the names of those in La Cosa Nostra. Dominic and Tommy are both dead. Dominic and Tommy have been dead for years. You swallow harshly at that news.

Meanwhile, Melissa is greeting her students at the door as they come in for the first day with their parents. It's all normal first day jitters until green eyes land on two figures she’s seen before… and not in New York.

Your wife coughs awkwardly. “Danik? Shaw?”

Two pairs of eyes dart right to her. “M- Raphaela?”

“I- oh my God.” Then she smirks and punches Shaw lightly. “I see you finally grew a pair and asked her out.”

“We’ve been married for the last… pretty much as soon as you left,” Shaw rubs his arm in the place that your wife playfully smacked him. “Had Frankie not too much later.”

“Frankie? I have a Frankie in my class this year,” Melissa stutters out.

“It’s funny,” Grace chuckles softly. “We saw the name of his teacher, but we didn’t think it could possibly be you.”

“It- it is,” she says softly. “Hey… I have to get to the kids, but… we should meet soon and discuss what’s happened in the past eight years.”

“We should,” both agents say at the same time. 

When the afternoon finally arrives, you swiftly turn off your computer. You’d ended up not getting nearly enough done. Instead, you’d gotten lost in following all those old ties. Seeing what presence of members of the Family you could track down. Most of them lead you to obituaries. It had only been in the last hour you’d be at the office that you had brought yourself to actually search for members of your family. You find a small smattering of them online; sharing photos from gatherings and holidays and birthdays. 

What had entirely stopped you short had been coming across a memorial post. For you, Melissa, and your daughters. For some reason, you hadn’t even considered it would be your own memorial you’d run across even as you had done so for many others you knew in your old life. You look at the poster, closing your eyes briefly when you see it’s Kristen Marie. If Melissa finds out about this you know you won’t be able to keep her from booking a flight to Philadelphia. Not if her sister is posting things like this, remembering her every year publicly on plenty of different occasions. This was the type of thing a Schemmenti sister pretended to not care enough to do. The fact that Kristen Marie has, and multiple times over a near decade, speaks volumes. 

It would be one thing if it had only been your daughters. You knew Melissa wouldn’t pitch a fight over that. She’d agree the girls should be remembered. Completely innocent just like they still were. You know though if your wife sees her own face and the caption her sister has put sharing how much she misses her it will be the last straw on the homesickness you’ve both been fighting ever since you left. 

From Kristen Marie’s post, you’d looked through her profile and clicked through to Mickey’s. Mickey who had gotten out only a few months after you’d ‘died.’ Mickey who’s profile is nearly entirely Melissa, you and your twins. The only exception is posts from Sunday dinner of everyone together. Even then there’s always a mention of the four of you.

You don’t dare click on the profile you see for Barbara. Relieved when that had been when you’d glanced to the clock to find it time to go. A quick rush to your wife’s favorite deli to pick up lunch and you’re walking back into the school. You’re certain you’re going to become an honorary TA for the rest of the afternoon but you don’t mind.

You knock on the doorway before you walk back into Melissa’s classroom. “Lunch as promised.” You say as you place her sandwich on her desk, pointedly over the papers she’d been trying to grade despite being on her break. It’s only when she looks up to glare at you for it that you steal a kiss, winking as you move to pull up your own chair.

“Thank you, Amore.” Melissa says as she unwraps both your lunches while you pull the chair over. “You’re never gonna guess who the parents of one of my kids this year is.”

“Don’t tell me it’s the youngest kid of that one mom from a couple years ago that was an absolute bitch and thought you were wrong for failing her daughter?”

Melissa’s lips form into a tight line. “Nope.”

“Who?”

“Danik and Shaw. Their son Frankie is in my class.”

“What?” Your eyes nearly pop out of your head.

“They dropped him off this morning and couldn’t believe it either.”

“Wh- how? Why are they in New York?”

“I don’t know,” she says quietly. “We didn’t get a chance to chat, but I told them we should meet at some point to discuss everything.”

“Oh god,” you groan softly. “Well… you’ll never guess what I did today at work.”

“What’s that?” your wife’s brow furrows as she takes a bite out of her sandwich.

“I…” You take a deep breath. “I went back to our past lives. Looked up people who were real important to us from Philly.”

“Y-you did?”

“I don’t know what came over me,” you whisper softly as a few tears bloom to your eyes. “Our parents are still alive. Kristen Marie is still alive and kicking. Mickey’s Facebook is pretty much dedicated to us… I didn’t have the courage to check on Barb’s facebook, but she seems to be doing well. I found our memorial pages. It was…” you sniffle. “And uh,” you scratch the back of your head. “Dom and Tommy are gone. Have been for years.”

“They’re gone?” Melissa’s face pales just slightly. You know how much they meant to her, even if they almost always put you through hell.

You nod silently. “Died in prison.”

“C-can you show me their obituaries?”

“At home, love. For now, can we just… If we keep talking about it, I’m going to keep crying,” you request softly. “Almost everyone from Cosa Nostra is gone. And we can look into it later tonight… when the girls are asleep.”

She obliges your request, reaching a hand over to settle gently on your thigh. She squeezes it softly, letting you know silently that she’s here for you.

Despite your request to not speak of it, you continue to have tears fall down your cheeks as you break down quietly. You tend to break down a bit more than she does- you blame the girls and the fact that you gave birth to them for that.

“I miss our old lives,” you whisper, voice cracking. “I miss my mam, and my dad… I miss Babs.”

“I know,” she replies just as quietly. “I thought it would get easier.”

“I wish… I wish we could go back.”

“I do too,” Melissa tells you. “But like you’ve told me before: the life that we built here is just as beautiful, and not nearly as messy. It’s what we had to do to keep our girls safe.”

She goes on to say more, but the bell rings to signify that lunch is over. You quickly finish your lunches before she’s standing at the door and waiting for her little gremlins to come in.

As soon as you see Frankie, you know who he is. He is almost a spitting image of his father, right down to the goofy smile that you only got to see a few times while he was trying to keep spirits light for your girls in the hospital. And that… that’s something special that tugs at your heartstrings. 

You turn back around under the cover of saying goodbye one more time. Something you’d be guilty of anyway but today you have other motivation too. “When they pick him up, see if you can find out when they’re free. Maybe invite ‘em to the house? We can have dinner when the girls stay at Lena’s next.” You say before kissing her one last time then letting her get back to teaching the second half of the day. You meant to offer to help her out if you could but after the conversation over lunch, and your mild breakdown, you figure its best you take a little breathing room. For you both.

You force yourself not to go home. You know if you do you’ll just go right back to digging and you can’t let yourself now. At least tonight Melissa will be looking with you and her stronger willpower can get you to stop better than just you on your own. You wouldn’t have stopped at the office if you hadn’t been leaving early today.

You avoid the hallway where you know the middle school’s classes are to ensure your girls don’t see you. You’re not trying to get a lecture about being embarrassing tonight over dinner. You duck into the library, finding one of your old favorites among the shelves to get lost in for the hundredth time. Which you do, thankfully. Your mind keeps distracted until you hear the dismissal bell. You take the time to finish the page you were on to avoid arriving to pick up either your daughters or your wife too quickly. Any of the three of them would be suspicious, especially knowing you had the afternoon off today.

Carefully, you return the book to the proper section of the shelf before you step out of the library once more. You make your way to get the girls first. They don’t have any of their extracurriculars today and you don’t want them to end up just standing outside when you’re already here. Still, you decide to wait halfway down the hall instead of going to the door. The potential for a lecture is still on your mind. You wait only a few minutes before both Cat and Rosie exit their homeroom with Lena and some of their other friends. All of which greet you politely and with smiles but still Cat takes your hand to hurry you back down the hallway to get you on your way to pick up Melissa before you can manage more than a hello.

You roll your eyes where neither of the girls can see though you don’t fight. Not that you really want to, considering it is your wife’s classroom you’re once again returning to today. 

“Hi, Ma.” Cat and Rosie greet her at the doorway in unison. 

You don’t think either of them see it but you still pick up on the miniscule jolt at the nickname. “There’s my three favorite ladies. Gimmie just a minute to get my stuff together and I’ll be ready.”

You turn back toward the hallway at a tap at your leg. “‘Scuse me,” A tiny voice says to you, stepping past you in the room you’ve made in the doorway once you’ve turned.

“Ms. Vinci, my mommy said to give you this note.” The little boy says as he nearly runs into your wife’s legs in his hurry to get to her to complete the task. 

“Thank you, Frankie. Tell her I’ll talk to her soon, okay? And don’t run in the hallway on your way back to her and your dad.”

“We’re getting reading time tomorrow, right?”

Your wife laughs, nodding. “Yes, I promise, now go before you worry your parents, sweetheart.”

In anticipation you press against the doorway to give little Frankie enough room to zoom past you in the lead up to his sprint down the hall. Your eyes follow him just to make sure he’s safe. Just to meet the gaze of Agent Danik, or Shaw? You’ll have to ask her when you properly catch up. She waves once before leading Frankie out the front door of the school.

You turn back around to see Melissa’s gaze on the paper that Frankie handed her. Her face flickers through several emotions before she jumpstarts back up and continues packing her bags.

You cross the room and pick up a few things to help assist her. It earns you a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Alright, my loves,” she finally sighs once she tucks the paper away. “Let’s head home. Mommy’s making lasagna tonight.”

As you all climb into the car, you glance back to ensure that your girls are distracted. Of course they are, both with headphones on and drowning out the world around them.

“What did the note say?” you ask as you squeeze her hand gently.

“Danik said we should meet them at their house on Saturday. Gave me the address and everything,” Melissa says through a tight lip.

“Should we?” You hope she nods, and she does.

Once you’re home, the girls fly up to their rooms to start on homework. They grumble about the fact that it’s ridiculous that they have homework on the first day of school. You’re inclined to agree.

[the-boy-meets-evil]

take my hands (we can fall together) | lee chan | pt 3

(where you and chan are friends, but he's your brother's best friend. and you've always been just a little out of reach. until one season changes everything.) pairing: brother's best friend!chan (dino) x f!reader genre: friends to ??, pining, slow burn | fluff, angst, smut rating: explicit warnings/notes: mentions of unhealthy relationships (reader x boyfriend), mentions of food, mentions of drinking/alcohol, friendsgiving, chan is having a crisis, explicit smut in this part, kissing, body appreciation, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. receiving), face sitting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, protected sex (p in v), aftercare, chan is a tease, chan calls reader baby one time, i think that's it but let me know if it's not word count: ~9.2k (full fic is roughly 23.5k) notes on the characters: anyone used as a background character is meant to be an OC, i'm just lazy with coming up with names a/n: SHE'S DONE! i cannot believe that (not me sticking to a timeline). huge thanks to @svthub for hosting this fall collab. check out the full list of fics here. make sure you go back and read parts 1 & 2 for context. this is the last one 😭 (unless i return for a drabble/timestamp). also thank you to my bby indi for creating an amazing banner @classicscreations.

tagging: @christinewithluv @aaniag @dejavernon @tbzhub @bitchlessdino @seungkwansphd

part 2 | masterlist

Even though he feels a bit weird about it, Chan makes good on his promise to Carla and they reschedule. Instead of going out to a too-loud bar, Chan suggests a favorite restaurant of his. Some place with good food and a better atmosphere. The perfect place to try and get to know his date on a real level. Not only is she beautiful and genuinely interested in him, she’s kind, easy to talk to, and surprisingly funny. The perfect person to finally move onto a healthier, strictly friendly relationship with you.

Everything about the date goes even more smoothly than he expects. Despite how open she is while texting, Chan’s surprised to find how engaged she is in person. It’s like nothing and nobody else exists apart from the two of them. She talks openly about liking him, too, because she says she doesn’t see the point of dancing around things, playing some kind of game. Life is too short not to tell someone how she feels. There’s a warmth in hearing that, like something dormant being awoken. It’s not like his other feelings completely disappear, but it’s nice to have that kind of connection.

At the end of the date, they walk out together and Chan grabs her hand without thinking twice about it. She stops him just outside the restaurant to pull him towards her for a kiss. Maybe it doesn’t make him see stars or anything insane like in the movies, but it’s nice. Her lips are soft against his and seem to just kiss away any worries. It really has been the best date he’s been on in a long time. So much so that he considers coming up for a drink when Carla invites him. There’s just a little something in the back of his mind holding him back and so he politely declines. He reasons it away that he’s got Friendsgiving the next day. It’s been a great date, but he’s definitely not ready to bring Carla to meet his friends. It’s only been one actual date. Even if they have been texting a lot.

Chan is up a little early the next day because he needs to run to the store to get some drinks before making his way to Seokmin’s house. That’s been their go-to place for bigger gatherings like this since he bought it because it’s got the most space. Last he heard, there were fifteen people coming for Friendsgiving. He’s also got to pick up Jay and Vernon on the way there so there aren’t too many cars. Jay should’ve been helping him pick up drinks. But, no. He crashed at Vernon’s. Which isn’t entirely surprising since Vernon’s new game is at the beta-testing stage and Jay’s always been the number one tester. It’s more than mildly concerning to see his two friends smirking when they get in the car, though.

“What?” Chan prompts.

“How was your date last night?” Vernon asks.

“Yeah, are we going to have to set an extra place at the table?” Jay adds on. 

“What are you talking about?” Chan questions.

“You went on a date last night, right?” Jay presses. 

“You know I did,” Chan confirms. “We live together.”

“And you took her to that restaurant we love,” Jay carries on.

“Yeah,” Chan says slowly, drawing the word out.

“Oh, cut him some slack. I guess you were so caught up in the date that you entirely missed that some of our friends were there too,” Vernon says and laughs at Chan’s face. “Yeah Jiyeon texted me laughing about how she tried to get your attention and you didn’t even notice.”

“Oh shit, I’ll have to apologize to her,” Chan says. 

“She was with Mina, Lisa, and my sister too,” Jay adds on. 

“They were all there?” Chan worries. 

“Yeah, I think it was my sister’s idea. A little bit of a girl’s night for whoever was free,” Jay says. “Rude of them not to invite us. But clearly you were busy.”

“So are we going to be seeing her today?” Vernon asks. 

“It was one date,” Chan deflects.

“One date that you kissed and then left with,” Jay adds on. Chan whips his head over to look at his best friend.

“Sorry, Ji had a lot to say about it. You know how she is,” Vernon shrugs. “And Jay wasn’t sharing the game so I had a lot of time to text her.”

“Great,” Chan says. 

“Hey, that’s a compliment! I stayed up playing a game and crashed on a couch, for you,” Jay complains.

The two of them carry on bickering while Chan’s head is a million miles away. Not exactly what he’s prepared for or expecting walking into Seokmin’s house. At least he knows ahead of time. For all the times Jay’s a pain in the ass, which is basically any time he’s breathing, he’s a loyal friend. He might be ribbing Chan for being so oblivious now, but he’s also giving him time to prepare before he walks in because Jiyeon is going to give it way worse. So, Chan takes the rest of the drive to figure out how he’s going to say. 

It’s hard, though, because entirely too much of his brain focuses on the fact that you were there, too. Something Jay kind of glosses over, probably trying to take the focus off. He’s never called Chan on it, but he’s known how his friend feels for a long time. You were there and you saw his whole date. Saw the way he was caught up. Saw the way he left with Carla. Saw the kiss. Saw everything. Because you were with Jiyeon and she would have been doing a live commentary. That’s just who she is. Not in a malicious way, she just hates being ignored. It’s stupid to be caught up on what you thought. He’s moving on. That’s what the date with Carla was supposed to do and he knows he can’t just live in this perpetual state of caring about you. Not when you’re in the middle of putting your heart back together. Not when you haven’t shown any interest. Not when you straight up said Chan was just a friend. 

He’s barely through the door before Jiyeon is harassing him. “So, what, you go on a date with someone you barely know and you just forget we’ve been friends for literal years?”

“Easy, Ji, I didn’t see you,” Chan repeats. 

“Well obviously,” she retorts.

“Did you call my name? Or send me a text to be like hey, over here?” Chan fires back. Fighting fire with fire is the only thing she responds to.

“No, you were too wrapped up in your little date,” Jiyeon answers like it’s obvious.

“Maybe you didn’t really want to get my attention. Maybe you just wanted to bitch today. Maybe you woke up and chose violence,” Chan says, earning an immediate eye roll. 

“Did you just call me a bitch?” Jiyeon asks with faux outrage.

“I said you wanted to bitch, I’d never call you a bitch,” he answers anyway.

“Well, where is she then?” Jiyeon asks as she makes a show of looking behind Chan.

“Carla? She’s not here. Obviously,” Chan says.

“Oooooh do you like her enough to use her name? Not just the girl you’re dating?” Jiyeon teases. 

“I hate you,” Chan utters without any bite.

“I know,” she sing-songs.

Almost involuntarily, Chan’s eyes find their way to you, looking for some kind of reaction to the whole scene. But, you’re sitting with Seokmin, like you aren’t paying attention at all. Like maybe you don’t even care. Which is good, right? Chan wanted you to leave Seungsik so that you could be happy and heal, not so that he could have a chance. Which is exactly what happened. It should be a good thing, seeing you happy. It’s just that he can’t help but feel like you don’t seem as happy as you did the day after leaving Seungsik at his aunt’s house. 

It starts as Chan thinking he’s overreacting. Throughout dinner, it becomes crystal clear that something is off. You stick close to Seokmin and Lisa, don’t even really mingle with people in the same way you do any other time everyone is together. Even with the friends you don’t get to see as often. There’s something a little dull about you, like the dimmer switch isn’t all the way on. And Chan never sees you without a drink in your hand, which is a little odd, too. Almost everyone drinks too much at Friendsgiving and then naps or sobers up before leaving. Drinking is normal. This isn’t that, though. 

The thing that hurts Chan the most is that you hardly speak to him at all. Several times, he tries to start a conversation, only to have you give short answers before excusing yourself to do something else. Or talk to someone else. Or be anywhere that Chan isn’t. That hurts on a much deeper level than any feelings he has or had for you. Over the past two months, it’s felt like you were coming to depend on him more as a genuine friend. Someone that you could turn to or be vulnerable around. More than just another person in a decent sized friend group or your younger brother’s best friend. There were even times when he wondered if he was in your inner circle. Things definitely shifted. But, whatever it was seems to have been short lived. The two of you are further apart than where you started. 

It’s not until Chan is back home at his apartment, leftovers from the meal tucked away in his fridge, and getting ready for bed that he gets answers. He’s not tired and he doesn’t want to go to sleep. All he wants is to get comfortable and watch something mindless. Jay seems to sense that something’s off and doesn’t even give him a hard time. Just lets him go off into his room and shut the door. His phone dinging catches his attention, though. 

You: today ws wierd and i hted it You: i mis m y channie 

The text catches him off guard for a lot of reasons. The first is that you’re clearly a little drunk, or maybe a little buzzed. You’re not usually such a sloppy texter. But, the much bigger reason is that you called him your Channie. You’ve called him Channie but never yours before. 

Chan: are you drunk? Chan: are you okay? You: ‘m fine You: not drunk Chan: are you home? You: no stayed at seoks Chan: good i’m glad You: do you like me

Chan stares at that message for a good minute like the words will somehow change. Does he like you? Are you asking as a friend or something more? Can he really try to get over you when you’re texting him like this?

Chan: course i do, we’re friends You: that’s not what i mean

Of all the ways the night could have gone, this was not one Chan considered. Things were definitely weird during Friendsgiving. He’s not sure how many people noticed. Jay definitely had, if him giving Chan space when they got home is any indicator. Seokmin probably noticed too, since you’re currently staying there. Before he can answer your text, his phone is going off with an incoming FaceTime. He answers without thinking.

“You answered,” you say like it’s some kind of surprise.

“Of course I did,” Chan breathes out. “What’s wrong?” 

“Do you like me, Chan?” you repeat. It’s so different watching you say it than seeing it typed. He’s trying not to focus on you sitting in bed just like he is. 

“I told you…” Chan starts and you’re shaking your head. 

“I know we’re friends, but do friends do everything you’ve done for me? Do friends go on train rides and apple picking and photoshoots and to pumpkin patches? Do friends spend an entire party not even bothering to talk to anyone else? Do friends support each other the way you’ve supported me?” You’re rambling, Definitely a little drunker than you want to admit, especially with some of your words slurring together.

“I don’t know,” Chan admits. 

You turn back and look straight into the camera. “Why didn’t you even see me last night, Chan?” 

“Well, I guess I was just…” Chan starts.

“What? Distracted? So distracted by your date that you didn’t even see me?” you ask. His heart breaks for how hurt you look. That’s the last thing he wants. 

“I’d already kinda blown her off once, over you, kind of,” Chan admits. Too honest.

“Over me?” you ask. Your eyes are wide like it’s not what you were expecting.

“I was, well I was with her when I saw Seungsik,” Chan says. “I made an excuse and left, but said I’d see her again another time.”

“Oh,” is all you say.

“Yeah, so I didn’t really want to do that to her again. She doesn’t deserve that,” Chan says quietly. 

“What about what I deserve?” you wonder.

“You know I think you deserve the entire world,” Chan insists. 

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth like you’re at war with yourself over something. “Do you think you could love her?” 

Before Chan can answer, he hears a door open and watches you turn to the side. Somewhere in the room, he hears Seokmin.

“I thought we said no drunk texting or calling or anything?” Seokmin reminds you, sounding very sober. 

“I thought you meant Seungsik,” you shrug, unashamed. Seokmin comes into the frame and sees Chan.

“Oh, hey, Chan,” Seokmin says, smile not quite as bright as Chan is used to. It’s clear that Seokmin didn’t just mean your ex.

“Hey, Seok,” Chan answers.

“I’m gonna take this and put her to bed,” Seokmin says.

“Good idea,” Chan agrees. 

Seokmin turns the camera to you. “Say goodnight to Chan.”

“Night Channie,” you call out.

“Night,” Chan answers. 

“Goodnight, Chan,” Seokmin says.

“Wait,” Chan says and watches as Seokmin’s face turns to him. “Delete the last few texts in our thread. That’s probably a better conversation to have when we’re both sober.”

Seokmin’s face relaxes and he nods, like he understands more than Chan does at the moment. Maybe he does. The entire conversation is weird and it’s leaving Chan with way more questions than answers. Why are you so curious about his feelings now? Why do his feelings for Carla matter to you? Why are you drinking like that? Did something happen with Seungsik? Are you finally processing and this is part of the grief? Why does it hurt to feel like an outsider to it all again?

The next time Chan sees you, there’s no mention of the brief FaceTime call or the texts. Things with you are somewhere between the total comfort of the party at his aunt’s house and how you were before all the Fall activities. It’s this weird limbo that he doesn’t really know how to process. It seems like nobody else really knows how to process it, either, and unfortunately, some of them are picking up on it. 

Then, there’s the issue of Carla. She hasn’t done anything wrong, but Chan also isn’t sure how he feels. On one hand, he really does think it’s best to just move on from his feelings for you because it’s all just been too much. On the other hand, it feels dishonest to keep going out with Carla when his head isn’t totally in it. But, she really is kind and she seems to understand some of his hesitation and even suggests that they do something a little more lowkey, like lunch during the work day, and that seems fine, right? Everyone has to eat lunch.

Wrong. 

Well, not about the lunch part. She picks a place that’s close by where they work, since they don’t work far apart, and Chan appreciates the slightly longer lunch. It’s a welcome break in his day and the perfect way to end the week. Carla is sweet, doesn’t push him to talk about anything he’s not ready to, though she can obviously tell there’s something. There’s a subtlety to the way she lets him know that he can talk to her about anything, no matter how awkward. And a grace when he says that he’s just not ready. She keeps all the conversation light, easy. There’s even something about it that feels a little more friendly than like a date. It’s really just an incredibly pleasant lunch.

And then comes the text. The text from you. Why on Earth did you need to send Chan a text saying you heard he went on a lunch date with the same girl from the other day? Why did you need to say that you hoped he had a good time? Why did it matter if he was spending time with someone else? It’s just kind of confusing because you’re definitely friends, but not the kind of friends that text like this. Not when it’s the first text you’ve sent to Chan since the ones he asked Seokmin to delete for you. 

So he doesn’t answer, doesn’t really know what to say. Instead he tries to make plans with Vernon to go for drinks after work. But, Vernon has other plans and Chan settles on just asking Jay. Although Jay is truly his best friend, he’s not Chan’s first choice when it’s you on his mind. Chan’s feelings for you, whatever they are, aren’t a secret to Jay, even if they’ve never talked about them. If he’s going drinking now, though, it might be too hard to keep avoiding talking about whatever he’s thinking. 

It seems initially like Jay might let Chan get away with just wanting to drink. They talk about work, about the holidays coming up, about upcoming plans. Jay mentions the big family Thanksgiving, which they’ll both be at. Chan talks about how he already feels behind on holiday shopping. They both talk about how crazy it is that Vernon’s so close to finishing one of his games. It’s just normal roommate shit. Much like lunch with Carla, everything is light and unserious. At least through the first drink. Everything changes when the bartender sets the second drink down in front of them. 

“We’ve gotta talk about it, man,” Jay finally says. 

“Talk about what?” Chan feigns ignorance.

“Whatever your feelings for my sister are,” Jay presses on, unwilling to let his best friend continue to ignore a problem. 

“Is this where you tell me that she’s fresh out of a relationship and give me some sort of speech about protecting her?” Chan asks.

“No,” Jay says simply. “She’s an adult and I’d never tell her who to date as long as she’s happy. Besides, you’re friends with her too.” 

“I really don’t know if we’re friends right now, things are weird,” Chan admits.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Jay says with a bit of a snort. 

“I went out to lunch with Carla today and then I got a text from her saying she’d heard about my lunch and hoped it was good. What am I supposed to do with that?” Chan asks, louder than he meant to.

“I don’t know,” Jay admits. “I don’t think she knows, to be honest.” 

“What do you mean?” Chan asks.

“Well, I’ll admit that I told her that you went to lunch with Carla because she’s been really weird about you since she broke it off with Seungsik. Probably before that, honestly, but it’s definitely been weird since then. I know she went to your aunt’s house the day after you told her and she confronted that asshole,” Jay says.

“Yeah, my aunt was thrilled,” Chan remembers.

“So was my sister, she said it’s one of the best times she’s had in awhile,” Jay shares.

“What did she say to you when you told her I was out to lunch?” Chan wonders.

“She just said oh good for him,” Jay says, “which I assumed meant she didn’t want me to know what she was thinking so I wouldn’t have to lie to you. I figured she was going to text you, too. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Chan brushes off. 

“Do you like her? Like actually like her?” Jay asks. 

“I don’t…I’m not sure, honestly,” Chan admits. 

“You were sure, though,” Jay presses. “I could see it in the way you looked at her. I remember thinking anyone would be lucky to have someone look at them that way.” 

“Yeah, I guess I wasn’t that subtle to anyone but her,” Chan jokes. 

“I think even she stopped being oblivious,” Jay laughs. “So what changed?” 

“I don’t know,” Chan shares. “I guess, I don’t know, it just felt like it’s been all this time and I was doing all these things with her when Seungsik didn’t want to. And I had this moment where I thought I could do things like that with her the rest of my life and be happy. But, then we were talking about him after I saw him out and she said something about how he always thought I liked her but she brushed it off. So I just kinda realized I needed to move on.” 

“Can you do that if she never knew for sure how you felt?” Jay asks. “Is it fair to either of you?”

“Is it fair to her when she’s only just gotten out of a relationship?” Chan challenges. 

“Like I said, Chan, she’s an adult. Just telling her that you have feelings for her isn’t the same as expecting her to jump right into something new,” Jay reasons. “If you love her, like I think you do, then she deserves to know that she isn’t crazy. Even if nothing happens. The only way to move forward is by being honest.”

“Love her…wait, why would she think she’s crazy?” Chan worries. 

“Because you’ve been weird too, bro. It isn’t just her,” Jay laughs. “She is going to absolutely kill me for this, but she remembers texting you and then FaceTiming you after Friendsgiving. She knows you asked Seokmin to delete the chat and dodged her question about how you felt. So, I think she thinks that she imagined you liking her.” 

“Shit,” Chan breathes out. “I was just trying to do what I thought was best.”

“I know that, but I’m not sure she does,” Jay shares. 

“Fuck it, I need shots,” Chan declares. 

He’s definitely not sober when he shows up at your apartment a few hours later. Despite Jay’s insistence that they eat something, he’s still very buzzed, bordering on the world having some blurry edges. Although Jay insisted this could wait until tomorrow, he’s still here at your doorstep. Doesn’t even look back at the Uber after he gets out. His fingers dance over the keypad to the building on autopilot because he’s been there enough times before. There’s no thought about if you’re home or what time it is. No thoughts about if you have company. All he can think is that he’s sick of this weird limbo. 

You answer the door with your hair piled on top of your head, oversized t-shirt hanging off your frame, and a look of complete surprise on your face. Whatever you see on Chan’s face makes you step aside and let him in without a word. It’s not until he feels the couch dip as you sit next to him that he really meets your eyes.

“What are you doing here, Chan?” you ask. 

“I’m sorry,” Chan whispers.

“For what?” you prompt.

“For so many things,” Chan answers. “For Seungsik, for not being a better friend, for not seeing you that night at the restaurant, for telling Seokmin to delete your texts, for not giving you a straight answer, for going on dates with someone. But mostly for falling for you when it’s the worst possible timing.”

“You’re drunk,” you say after a moment.

“A little, maybe, but that doesn’t make any of it less true,” Chan argues. 

“I want to hear all of this from you in the morning, when you’re sober,” you say. 

“Please, I don’t know if…” Chan starts.

“Come on, Channie, let’s get you to bed and we can talk in the morning,” you say. 

You stand and reach a hand to him. He’s not sure if it’s the thought behind the gesture or hearing you say Channie, but he takes your hand without questioning it. Before he knows it, he’s tucked into bed and his eyes are closing. It may be the most comfortable bed he’s ever slept in. 

The next morning, sun through the cracks in the blinds wakes Chan up and it takes him more than a moment to remember where he is. It’s only when he looks around and sees your familiar decorations everywhere that it dawns on him. Not only is he in your apartment, he’s in your bedroom. He slept in your bed last night. Somehow that realization has him feeling even worse than the slight hangover. Since life is really unfair, you walk in a minute later, looking far better than anyone should in the morning. You hand over a cup of coffee. Fighting his embarrassment, Chan sits up so he can accept it and take a sip. Of course it’s perfect. It feels like the reverse of the morning after the Halloween party.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Terrible,” Chan admits ambiguously. 

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get for drinking so much. Jay said he wasn’t sure where you were putting it,” you chuckle out. You pick up your own coffee mug to take a sip.

“When did you talk to Jay?” Chan wonders.

“He was blowing up your phone and I don’t know your password so I figured he was worried about you. I texted him to say you were here and passed out and you’d text him today,” you answer. “He didn’t seem concerned once I said you were here.” 

“Yeah, well it’s not really the hangover that’s making me feel terrible,” Chan mumbles and you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“I hope I’m not making you feel terrible,” you throw out.

“No, I’m just embarrassed, really,” Chan says. 

“You don’t need to be,” you assure him, voice gentle. 

“I am so sorry for telling Seokmin to delete those messages, I thought it was the right thing to do,” Chan begins. 

“It’s fine. I’m not surprised my darling brother told you about that, though,” you say. 

“It’s not fine. I just, I don’t know, I didn’t really know what was going on and it felt a little overwhelming,” Chan says. 

“Yeah I can see that. To be fair, I’m not really sure what I was even trying to accomplish that night,” you say quietly.

“Can I try to say the things I wanted to say last night?” Chan asks. “Jay actually helped me realize some things.”

“He’s got his moments,” you laugh. “And yeah, I think I’d like to hear what you wanted to say, now that it’s morning and you’re sober.” 

“I could repeat what I said, but it really comes down to this. I like you. A lot, way more than I should and I know that it’s, like, the worst timing in the world because of Seungsik and the break up,” Chan rushes out. “I know it’s probably not fair to you to tell you now, but Jay also pointed out that I can’t really try to move on when I haven’t told you how I feel. I just, I got kinda freaked out to tell you when you said the thing about your ex thinking I liked you, but you brushing it off.” 

“Chan,” you try to interrupt.

“And, fuck, I was trying so hard to date someone and get my mind off you that I didn’t even think about it,” Chan carries on. “But the reality is that all the things we did all season long have been some of the best times of my life. I’m sorry, I know that I’m rambling.”

“Can I speak now?” you ask and Chan’s cheeks burn red. 

“Sorry,” Chan whispers.

“I like you, too,” you admit. “I’m not really sure when it happened. Maybe somewhere along the way of you just constantly being there.”

“Yeah, we’ve spent a lot of time together the last like two months,” Chan agrees. “Wait, did you say you like me, too?”

“I did and, like, we have definitely spent a lot of time together doing all the things I love to do, which maybe helped me realize, but I think it’s been there a lot longer. All this did was make me realize how you’ve been there for me for years and I didn’t see that it was more than just a friendly thing,” you say. “You probably don’t remember but back in college, that idiot broke my heart and you and Jay spent the whole weekend cheering me up. I get why Jay did it, he’s my brother, but you didn’t have to.”

“Of course I remember, that’s when I realized I had a crush on you,” Chan says softly. 

“Chan, that was like 6 years ago,” you say, nearly choking. 

“Pushing seven,” Chan admits.

“You’ve liked me all that time and I didn’t realize?” you wonder.

“Maybe not all that time, it’s not like I haven’t dated,” Chan points out. 

“Oh yes, because you’ve dated such winners,” you scoff. 

“Are you, were you jealous?” Chan teases. “You started acting weird when I went on the date with Carla and didn’t notice you or our friends.”

“I wasn’t acting weird,” you protest. 

“Yes you were, even Jay said so,” Chan counters.

“Oh whatever, you’ve liked me for seven years,” you tease with a roll of your eyes. 

“And you’ve probably liked me just as long but you’re stubborn,” Chan says.

He’s not sure where the confidence comes from now, but hearing that you like him too just makes it feel lighter. Even though there’s no telling what happens from here, it feels good to have it all out in the open. You’ve both abandoned your coffees at this point and are just sitting on the bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

“I am not stubborn,” you protest. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must be thinking of someone else,” Chan teases. 

“Must be,” you agree.

“Hey,” Chan says, more serious. “I don’t know what happens next and I know you just got out of a relationship, so there’s no pressure or…”

Chan can’t finish what he’s saying when you press your lips to his. It takes him several seconds to get over the shock, though. It doesn’t matter that you admitted to liking him, too. That’s still a big step to go from that to kissing. You’re pulling away when his brain finally connects and he kisses you back. Makes him pull you back into him so that he doesn’t miss another second of the way your lips feel against his. Makes him dig his fingers into your hips when he pulls you on top of him. You pull away to gasp and catch your breath. Let yourself get situated with a knee pressed into the mattress on either side of him. All you can do is just look at him, pupils a little blown and chest rising with each breath. Loosening his grip on you, he looks down and watches his hands slide over your thighs and back up to your hips. When he looks back at you, he finds you’re watching the movement. 

“You don’t have to be so careful, Chan, I’m not that fragile,” you utter.

“I know you’re not,” he confirms. “But, are you sure?”

“About this?” you ask and he nods. “The most sure I’ve been about anything in a long time.”

He’s about to ask you again but you just shake your head before leaning in to kiss him. You’re giving him confirmation and permission all at once. Confirmation that you want this and permission to not treat you so gently. It’s all he needs to start running his hands up across your hips and then under your shirt and up your back. Your hands move from the sides of his face to fling your arms around his neck when he presses you tighter against his body. Kissing you isn’t anything like he imagined. It’s not soft and tender. It’s a little desperate and needy, but still completely full of affection. As if testing what you said about not needing to be careful, he nips at your lower lip. The light moan shoots straight to his dick and his hands travel back down your back to your hips. Gripping you tight but also making you slightly rock against him. 

It’s not enough contact, though. Now that he’s got you like this, he just wants more. It’s almost too much when he pulls your t-shirt off and he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra. Maybe this was in your plan all along. Chan pulls back and plants a light kiss on your lips, currently pouting and a little puffy from the kisses. When he kisses across your jaw and down to your neck, you arch into it. He wants to savor this, to take his time taking you apart. Wants to coax every noise out of you. Wants to be the reason you’re completely ruined. Doesn’t know that he’s already well on the way there. 

He kisses across the top of your chest, from one collarbone to the other and you let out a small please. Probably that you need more. That’s definitely going to take time, though. When he places a feather light kiss between your breasts, you whimper again, rock your hips forward over him again. It’s everything he can do to not get too turned on too fast. It doesn’t matter if you have a million more times after this. This is the first time and he wants to savor it. Slowly, he moves his lips over to one of your breasts, flicks his tongue across your nipple a couple of times. Nips a mark into your sensitive skin and laves his tongue over to soothe the sting. Your hands are tangled in the ends of his hair that’s longer than you remember it being before. Even if you won’t admit it, he can tell you like it by the way your hands keep finding it. 

As he kisses his way back up to your lips, he moves you a little further back on his lap. Misses the confusion cross your face. But, he’s got a plan. Once he’s kissing you again, one hand slides down your inner thigh and plays with the edge of your shorts. You squirm when you realize just what he’s doing. He can’t fight the groan when he realizes you don’t have any underwear on under your shorts, either. Jesus. He has to pull back for a steadying breath. This is about you and making you feel good. He can’t get too turned on too fast. His lips find yours again and his thumb runs along your slit, inside your shorts. Collects the wetness already between your legs. You try to pull away from the kiss to moan and he uses his free hand to anchor you to him. Lightly, he spreads your lips apart so that his thumb can brush over your clit. That’s when he finally let’s you pull back. 

“Fuck,” you utter immediately.

“Is this still okay?” Chan whispers against your skin before kissing the spot just below your ear. 

“Yes,” you hiss out as his thumb continues to caress your clit. 

“You can stop it if you want,” he tells you. 

“I will kill you if you stop,” you threaten, lust heavy in your tone. 

“Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” he teases.

“Stop being such a - fuck,” you gasp out when Chan slides a finger inside you. 

“Such a what?” he prompts. 

“A tease,” you finish. “Please, Channie, you’re moving so slow.” 

Instead of answering right away, he leans in to kiss you again. Captures your moans, but doesn’t increase the slow, almost lazy speed that his finger enters you. “You in a hurry?” 

“No,” you whine, “but I need more. Please. Please just give me a little more.”

The way words fall out of your mouth, begging him to carry on, makes his dick twitch. He’s thankful you don’t seem to notice because he likes having the control like this. Likes watching you squirm on top of him and knowing it’s all for him. Gives you at least a little of what you want when he slides a second finger in. Doesn’t tell you that it’s still just warming you up for something more. Something he’s been thinking about for weeks. 

“I want to feel you, please,” you beg when Chan pulls his lips away from yours again. 

“Not yet,” he tells you.

“Why?” you whine out.

“I want to taste you first,” Chan says, fingers stilled inside of you, but thumb still lightly circling your clit. 

“Can’t we just…” you start.

“Are you gonna make me beg, baby?” Chan wonders. Your eyes widen at that, both out of surprise and desire. “I will, I have all the time in the world.” 

“N-no, you don’t need to,” you stutter out. “How do you…”

“I want you to sit on my face,” he says simply.

“What?” you nearly gasp.

“I want you to sit on my face,” he repeats. “Just straddle my face and let me show you how good I can be for you.” 

“I’ve, um, well I’ve never…” you start, turning a little shy. 

Chan takes his free hand and tilts your chin up, so gentle that he doesn’t realize the act almost breaks you. “Never had someone eat you out like that?” 

You shake your head. “I, um, haven’t actually been eaten out much.” 

“Can I admit something too, then?” he asks, wanting to make you comfortable. You nod. “I’ve been thinking about what it would feel like to be under you since you got on my shoulders at the orchard and your thighs squeezed my face.”

It’s clear that’s not what you’re expecting. It’s something so honest that it’s all you can focus on. Where Chan would usually feel too exposed, he only feels comfortable with you. Like he can expose everything about him and he’ll still be safe with you. He wants you to feel that too. Doesn’t realize that you’ve never had someone take their time with you like this. 

“Well it was kinda hot, the way you picked me up like that,” you finally admit. 

“So trust me again, I won’t let you fall,” he urges. 

You mumble something under your breath that sounds suspiciously like too late. He’s trying not to focus too much on that, too much on what happens after this. All he wants is this moment to last forever. To be able to show you just how much he cares for you.

“So how do we…” you start.

“Here, get up for a second,” he directs you, gently moving you off his lap. 

In one quick motion, he pulls his shirt off and watches the way your eyes drink him in. His muscles contract as you reach out to run a hand along his stomach. Doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath and waiting for your verdict.

“Fuck me, you’re hot. I’ve seen you swimming, have you always looked like this?” you say, sounding annoyed and making him laugh. 

“Let’s get you out of these,” Chan says instead of answering and helps you pull off your shorts. 

He leans back and makes sure that he’s comfortable. Then, he directs you to straddle his face. Urges you to trust him, Promises you that you’re not going to hurt him. Reminds you that this is about you, but it’s about him, too. He’s wondered what it would feel like to have your thighs boxing his head in. To be so caught up in you. Just as you’re about to protest, he licks a strip up your core and you gasp. He continues to run his tongue up your entrance, sliding his tongue deeper into you as he goes. You start to squirm almost immediately and he reaches up to anchor your legs on either side of his head. 

It’s honestly far better than Chan was imagining. The noises coming from you were only encouraging him to keep going. Not that he really needed any encouragement. He could drown between your legs and be the happiest he’d ever been. It was unthinkable that nobody wanted to take care of you like this before. Your arousal coated his tongue as he pressed it deeper inside you between his licks. His nose bumped against your clit and he had to grip you harder again to keep you from arching off his mouth. As if sensing that he needed you closer, you leaned forward, gripping onto the headboard. He squeezed your legs and fucked his tongue faster into your pussy. 

“Chan, fuck, oh my god, your tongue, I just - fuck,” you curse out. 

He’s good with his tongue, he knows that. Knows he’s good at a lot of things. This is different, though. Every noise sounds so much better, every body spasm is that much more rewarding, every curse sounds perfect. It’s not until your body starts quivering hard that he realizes he’s never wanted to make someone come on his tongue more than this. You must be close because you start to get more incoherent, start to try and pull yourself off him. Instead, Chan holds onto you harder.

“Please, I’m gonna come,” you whine. 

Chan pulls away from your pussy just long enough to utter a single phrase. “Then, come for me.” 

And then he’s back to burying his tongue inside you, licking faster, reaching a hand around your leg to circle your clit with his thumb again. It’s nothing but a string of curses that you utter. Clench your walls around his tongue. There’s nothing hotter than how fully you trust him as you let go, coming on his face. He times the strokes of his tongue to guide you through the high before helping you off of his face so that you can lie back on the bed and catch your breath. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, fully aware that he hasn’t gotten it all, and repositions to lay next to you on his side. Your eyes are closed and he can’t help but brush a piece of stray hair off your face. The tenderness at odds with the previous moments. 

“Whoa,” you finally say when you open your eyes to look at him. 

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“That was…fuck, that was good,” you admit. “I don’t want to give you a big head or anything but damn.” 

“It’s a bit late for that,” Chan jokes. “I could feel how much you enjoyed it.”

You swat at him. “Fuck off.” 

He catches your hand and presses a light kiss to your knuckles. “Not before I fuck you.”

The contrast between the kiss and the statement nearly gives you whiplash. It’s plain on your face that you’re wondering where this version of him came from. 

“Unless you changed your mind or you’re too tired,” he offers. “I just remember you saying you wanted to feel me.”

“Oh no, I definitely still want that. I seem to remember you promising to show me how good you could be for me,” you say, regaining the confidence. 

“My pleasure,” he says and gets up from the bed. 

You’re about to ask what he’s doing when he pulls his briefs and shorts down in one motion, dick springing free. There’s a satisfaction to watching the way you take in the sight of him fully naked. He’s confident in his size, definitely confident he can make you feel good, but it’s still nice to see the way your eyes go big. Nice to see the way you swallow while watching his hand move lazy along his shaft. 

“Condoms?” he asks.

“That drawer,” you indicate. 

He reaches in to get one and rips the package with his teeth. He’s watching you as he slides the latex over his dick. Watching for any signs of second thoughts. There aren’t any, but he wants to check anyway.

“You’re still sure?” he asks.

“Yes,” you confirm, meeting his eyes. “And if something changes, I’ll stop you.”

“Good, because I still wanna make you come at least two more times before I do,” he tells you.

You shudder. “You sure you can do that?” 

“Positive,” he says with a smile that’s entirely too confident. 

Except he knows he can deliver. Knows that he can show you just how good he can be. Knows that he can make you feel amazing. He directs you to lay back on the bed and spreads your legs. Instead of sliding right in, he uses a finger to make sure you’re still ready for him. To make sure he’s not rushing it. You squirm against his finger and he can tell you’re getting impatient again. But, he wasn’t kidding. He’s going to take his time with you. 

You’re still so sensitive that he brings you almost to the edge just with his fingers. Delights in the way you arch into him. In the way his name falls from your lips like a prayer. In the way your fingers dig into the sheets at first before you grip one of his arms. Before you leave scratch marks along that same arm. Before you’re begging him just to let you feel him inside of you. It’s enough to finally make him give into your begging. He lines himself up at your entrance and presses his dick in slowly. Much slower than his finger was pumping into you. He wants to let you adjust to the stretch, though. Your hands make their way to his back and your fingers run down his muscles there. Gently at first, like you’re just exploring his body. When your fingers run down his back again, this time scratching along the way, he buries himself in you and pulls back to snap once, quick. The resulting gasp is music to his ears. 

He sets a varying pace. Mixing slow with fast. Shallow pumps with deep ones. Tries to find out just what you like the best and what pulls the best sounds out of you. He leans back so he can throw one of your legs over his shoulder and hit a different angle. That seems to be the one you enjoy the most and it’s only moments before you’re coming undone around him again. He pulls out when you start to clench around him because he’s not sure that he’s strong enough to hold back through that. And he really does want to make you come more before he does. 

It carries on like that, Chan constantly changing your positions, doing more than his fair share of the work, studying every inch of your body. It’s clear that your brain is going a little mushy and that you’re insanely overstimulated. In the end, he makes you come two more times, in addition to the two previous orgasms, before he finally lets go. It’s honestly the best release he’s ever experienced. The best high and the best sex. Everything feels magnified and also like the most natural thing in the world. He finds it’s really easy to figure out the things you like and they seem to line up with things he enjoys as well. 

He lies back on the bed and you curl into him after you take a minute to recover. Actually tuck yourself right into his side and nestle in with his arm underneath your neck. He wouldn’t ever move if he didn’t have to. But, you both definitely need to get cleaned up. 

“Where are you going?” you ask when he starts to move. Your eyes look a little worried. That kind of breaks his heart because why do you look so nervous?

He leans back onto the bed and presses the softest, most gentle kiss he’s ever given anyone on your forehead. “To get a towel to clean up a bit. And I was gonna start a bath for you, I know your tub is crazy nice.”

“A bath actually sounds really amazing,” you admit.

“Just stay here then and let me take care of you,” he insists. 

You nod and lay back onto the bed, closing your eyes and smiling. It makes his heart swell at the level of comfort you seem to feel. He also knows that you and him need to talk, to figure out what’s going on and where this is heading. Knows that he’s already in way deeper than he should be. But, all he focuses on now is cleaning himself up a bit. It’s a little hard to do, so he just hops in the shower to rinse off as quickly as possible. Once he’s done with that, he focuses on getting the bath running for you. 

When he feels like the temperature is right, that the bath bomb has dissolved enough, and that it’s all completely perfect for you, he walks back into the bedroom. He expects to find you asleep. Instead, you’re sitting up with some fresh clothes next to you. 

“I heard you in the shower,” you say and offer him the clothes when you get up. You wince just slightly. 

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. 

“I’m not,” you disagree. Chan helps you to the bathtub and helps you in. He blushes a little when you return the favor and kiss him softly on the lips. He turns around when your voice stops him. “Where are you going?”

“I was going to let you enjoy the bath,” he answers.

“I’d like it better if you stayed here,” you admit and his heart feels like it really will explode. 

“Let me just put on some clothes,” he requests.

“You could also just get in with me,” you offer. “Not in a sexual way, just in a closeness way.”

How can he argue with that, really? Your tub is plenty big enough, a sticking point for you even if the rest of the apartment was on the smaller size. The main bathroom was massive, comparatively. So he gets in carefully across from you and settles into the water. It does actually feel really nice. His eyes fall on you moving gingerly to wash yourself off. 

“C’mere,” he says, “turn around.” 

You do as he asks and settle in between his legs, with your back leaning against his chest. He picks up your loofah and takes over rubbing it carefully across your skin. You relax further against him almost immediately, which he takes as a good sign that he’s doing something right. There’s a lot he’s done or tried, but this is new territory for him. And he wants to be good at it, too. 

Once he’s finished cleaning you off, the two of you just stay like that, you leaning against his chest. It’s a comfortable silence that neither of you feels the need to break. It’s not until the water starts to feel cold that you both admit you need to get out. This time, you actually let Chan put his clothes on and you put something comfortable on as well. He helps you pull the sheets off the bed to throw them in the wash. 

The two of you check your phones when you plop down onto the living room couch and Chan grimaces. He’s got a whole bunch of texts and missed calls from Jay. Some are from last night, like you said, but some are from today, too. He shows them to you and you show him a string of notifications that look similar. 

“Time to break the bubble?” Chan asks. 

“At least for long enough that he stops having a heart attack,” you agree. 

So, Chan dials and isn’t surprised when Jay picks up on the second ring.

“What the fuck, Chan, where are you? And why isn’t my sister answering either?” Jay asks instead of a hello.

“Uh, you’re on speaker,” Chan answers. 

“Hey,” you chime in.

“You’re still over there?” Jay asks incredulously. “How much could you possibly have to talk about?” 

“Worried I’m going to steal your best friend?” you tease.

“Or are you worried I’m going to steal your sister?” Chan asks and you laugh.

“No, you’re better than literally any person she’s dated ever. By a lot,” Jay acknowledges. 

“Oh my god, you really are just missing your best friend,” you groan. 

“And my roommate, he’s my roommate too,” Jay protests.

“We have things to talk about,” you say.

“How much do you have to talk about?” Jay wonders. “He likes you, you obviously like him. What else do you need to know?” 

“That’s between us,” you say as Chan starts to talk.

“We also didn’t talk last night because I was drunk,” he adds.

“Yeah and it’s late afternoon now, so what have you been…oh my god, that’s fucking gross, that’s my sister,” Jay sputters out.

“I didn’t even say anything!” Chan protests. 

“You didn’t have to. We’re roommates, remember?” Jay answers.

“If you miss me, just say that and go,” Chan teases.

“I do miss you, I made Vernon come over earlier and it’s not the same,” Jay says.

“Hey,” they hear Vernon say in the background.

“I think I hate this already,” you say and scrunch your face.

“Sick of him already?” Jay jokes.

“No, I don’t like you liking someone I’m dating,” you disagree. 

“Dating?” Jay and Chan ask at the same time.

“Oh, well, I just figured…” you start.

“I’m hanging up on you, bro, we have things to talk about,” Chan says. 

“Fine, but just be good to her, she deserves that,” Jay says.

“Yeah, she does,” Chan agrees, eyes on you. 

He hangs up the phone and just looks at you, unsure of what to say. Unsure of how to start figuring out what this is. You just got out of something that was really unhealthy and he’s not trying to rush you into something new or risk it being unhealthy because you didn’t heal. Couldn’t stand to be a rebound. He’s never thought this far.

“I didn’t meant to assume, I just…” you start.

“Of course I want to date you. It’s just, you just got out of a relationship and I want to give you time to get over that,” he says.

“I think I’ve been over it since the train ride, to be honest,” you say. “Maybe it took me a while to realize. But you showed me, time and time again, what it means to show up for someone you love.”

“I love you, too,” Chan says softly.

“So we figure it out together?” you ask, so hopeful.

Chan leans in and presses a kiss to your lips. “Yeah, we figure it out together.”

i'm sad this is over, but it was so much fun to write! i hope you enjoyed them as much as i did. and there's a very real chance i'll return to this with future timestamps/drabbles. but who knows when because of who i am as a person!

[sofs16]

our day

series masterfile — prev. chapter

note IM HERE😭 last chapter! thank you for all the support🤍 i also finally learned how to make fake tweets AHAH + not proofread and short taglist @autumn-bitch7 @raevyng @luvvtrent @boherahpsody @treehouse-mouse @chasing-liberosis @celestialams @cherry-piee @stevesthetics @ilovechickenwings @blueflorals @janeholt3 @buckybarnessweetheart @lec-16 @1655clean @dear-fifi @honethatty12 @heavengirls111 @kagatinkita

— twitter !!!

— instagram !!!

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 2,459,593 others

yn does it look like im looking at him?

view all 473,696 comments

ferrarisgal HER FIRST POST IN A YEAR…..

⤷ mclarenaults we’ve been starved. even the jpg acc died

pierregasly when are you not looking at Charles?

⤷ yn touché

charles_leclerc does it look like i’m looking at you? ⤷yn HEHEHEHEE

yourbestfriend SHES BACK BITCHES

⤷ yn better than ever 😘

user83 i believe user ynlelcl summoned her

september 26, 2025

charles_leclerc

liked by yn, and 6,393,595 others

charles_leclerc Looking at yn view all 1,595,393 comments

yn im yn

⤷ charles_leclerc My one and only

⤷ landonorris Ew

⤷ yn Wow

ynleclercers WE’RE GETTING FED

september 27, 2025

ynslover

liked by yn, and 1,283 others ynslover who can blame her for going offline after that shitshow of a year 😭

view all 37 comments

october 2, 2025

yn.jpg

liked by charles_leclerc, and 1,228,585 others yn.jpg Lewink ;)

view all 27,696 comments

charles_leclerc Great post to end the season 😘🍾

november 26, 2025

yn and charles_leclerc

liked by 9,483,292 others yn and charles_leclerc ☃️

view all 2,954,228 comments

hassferr1 hehe collab post cute

weekf1 BABYLOVESS

december 27, 2025

charles_leclerc

liked by yn, and 5,283,484 others

charles_leclerc We’re back 🏎️❤️

📸 yn.jpg

view all 895,695 comments

yn thanks for credits babe 😘

march 3, 2026

charles_leclerc

liked by yn, and 1,585,493 others

charles_leclerc Summer lovin! (-yn)

view all 631,483 comments

pinterest ❤️

⤷ ylnlover WWHATRRRR

cruelslover I LOVE THEM

april 2, 2026

yn.jpg

liked by 3,272,595 others

yn.jpg leclercs jpg 🏎️

view all 917,559 comments

lecls63 LECLERCS? WHAT

scuderia_yln WHAT. june 11, 2026

twitter !!!

charles_leclerc

liked by yn_leclerc, and 11,697,493 others

charles_leclerc The last photo was the first time we slept together in our house together. It was 2 am when you were kidding about doing your own makeup at our wedding because you wanted to be independent. I have been waiting since then to ask you. Now, you have taken not only my heart, but my last name. It may have been funny for the guys to call you Mrs. Leclerc at the paddock but to me, it was everything I have wanted since I met you. It is my greatest win in life to be able to love you as your husband. view all 5,282,696 comments

ynsdefendr THE FUCK IT WAS REAL?

yn_leclerc IM BAWLINGGGGG WHATTTTTTTT

yn_leclerc AND I THOUUGHT THE WEDDING VOWS WAS IT 😭

yn_leclerc I love you so much Im literally beside you but. lorenzotl Congrats 🍾 ❤️

scuderiaferrari Congrats Mr & Mrs. Leclerc! ❤️

ynz16 them being married on the 16th just makes sense to me…. ⤷ 16slc the fact its 6/16/26 LOOKS SO YUMMY

june 16, 2026

yn_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, and 4,669,292 others yn_leclerc it’s our day. i cant be too sentimental online but i’m glad i decided to have a paddock day and the universe decided we cross paths. im thankful we get to share our love in photos with the world and it will live on forever. i know there are ripples in our love that test our trust but it will always be our home and our leclerc win ❤️

view all 1,697,696 comments

ynslecl THE USERNAME. charles_leclerc I love you ❤️

pierregasly Thanks for the free drinks! user not all the chapter titles used here.

june 16 2026

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog: Wakfu Season 2 (episodes 13-16)

Episode 13 - The Night of the Thirsters

Proof Amalia and Joris are not close friends number 829342345: if she knew the alcohol he drinks and what he considers "a clean environment to live in" she'd get scared.

WoT twitter would kill Amalia.

I know it's more likely that both alcoholic and non-alcoholic bamboo milk exists, but the thought of everyone being a-ok with Yugo underage drinking makes me giggle for some reason. Ruel would fucking do that.

Are your villains 1. indestructible, 2. want to consume something that could theoretically fix them, 3. in the process, inflict a fate worse than death upon their victim, who 4. becomes one of them?

...Necromes were a missed opportunity. Shoulda called them Wakfu Thirsters instead.

Episode 14 - The Voice Thief

It's always sad to see the way the world has been devastated by Ogrest's Chaos.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

...This says:

Her singing is so cute!

She is now fully bamboo milk-pilled. GOOD.

New Krosmoz music lore: We already know that vinyls and their players exist, as well as the fact that rock music exists (due to the fact that The Blues of a Hypermage (parody of the IRL song The Blues of a Buisinessman) exists).

Now we have the confirmation that metal bands are real.

Also, electric guitars are also real.

Mics are also real. (I am totally not noting all of this down because I want to write a "Joris, Kerubim, and Atcham go to karaoke" scene in one of my fics in the future, nuh-uh...)

Hummina hummina hummina bazooooooooing! eyes pop out AROOOOOOOOGA! jaw drops tongue rolls out WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF.

It's very rare to see, within the show, characters who differ from their usual class skin and hair colours, which is a shame. (I am 99% sure this is an iop due to his clothes and his hair pointing upwards)

Text behind Eva: rien ne sert de payer il faut en fuir / there is no point in paying, you have to run away

Text behind Amalia is too shielded to transcribe fully.

This is written in Brakmarian. It says:

This means that, metal music is stereotypically a Brakmarian form of music (big news: spoon found in kitchen)

I usually don't point this sort of stuff out but, man, this tavern is really well off. Not only is there a lot of food, there are also huge hot baths...

Also, once again, canalization and running water are real in this setting.

I choose to believe that this bubble thing is the Krosmoz equivalent of vaping because it's funny.

[blushing] Would!

Jpop is real in this setting, and someday, I will be able to prove to you, that Joris is a fan of it, using some proof besides "well ecaflips are kind of japanese-coded sometimes" and "it just makes sense."

Good rooms in taverns like these not only have hot baths but also fruit, candles, and drinks... [starts writing down "Joris, Kerubim and Atcham go to an expensive tavern and start talking about some convoluted topic, with vivid descriptions of delicious fruit-eating, how good the wine is, and how soft the bubbles in the bath are" in my fic self-indulgent scene ideas document. I can live my vacation fantasies vicariously through those three men]

Of course metal music from Brakmar is about the fact that the apocalypse caused inflation and that it's Good.

This says:

ourse

olle

m al

venu

Episode 15 - Wabbit Island

Hhh she is a very good artist.

[guy who is insane voice] This means that if I ever want to use the expression "canary in a coalmine" in a fic it'll be "tofu in a coalmine" instead.

The word Sayonara exists in Krosmoz which implies that some sort of fantasy Japanese is real. Big win.

Episode 16 - The Cursed Fountain

:(

While I usually talk a lot about character parallels between Yugo and Joris (these men who had to grow up far too fast will someday commit acts which no human being can be forgiven for in the name of goodness—-) there is a lot to be said about parallels betwen Eva and Joris.

They're both artistic, kind people who try to appear logic-driven (and sadly, they are both basically the wranglers/babysitters of their entire adventuring groups).