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kachinnate · 3 years

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,,,,okay i know i just said i wasn’t going to talk about the deh movie but actually yeah imma talk about it for just a sec bc y’all actually make me legitimately distressed sajkfndsmjkgds

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hLQ_A0H1otc i dont have the braincells to do a shot by shot analysis right now but here’s what we’re lookin at

under a readmore because ghhhhhhh

firstly, let me lead with this: yes, from what we know, there’s a lot of things wrong with this movie.

the worst, in my humble opinion, being the bts treatment of the (very few) actors of color, and the lack altogether of any production team members of color. that’s something that should be acknowledged, talked about, and fucking dug into especially at the current fucking period of time we’re living in. it’s unsurprising, but disgusting nonetheless, and it set this movie up for failure from the very beginning. i’m a white person so by no means so i feel inclined or like i have any authority in saying what one should feel wrt all of that, however i will say if there’s to be a boycott in not watching this movie, that should 100% be the reason why. it’s fully poc’s choice whether or not to forgive the production team or give this movie a chance for the irredeemable shit it did in regards to handling the movie’s production. the movie imo definitely doesn’t deserve their forgiveness, but again, that is not for me to say.

there’s some little things too that i can’t fully think of off the top of my head - like, the whole making larry connor’s stepdad thing fucking irks me, for example, but, like...... listen.

if you know me like at all, you know my favorite word is nuance.

so, i’m going to say it outright: the way you people are approaching this three minute trailer shows literally.... none?? no nuance ??? is it no-nuance november over here or ???? like i’m begging you i’m BEGGING YOU to put aside your pre-determined prejudices against this movie and like stop pretending to be a renowned film critic for ten seconds because it’s really not as outright fucking abysmal as you are saying!! and also it’s possible to have opinions that aren’t completely fucking polarized to one side because guess what, the deh movie? a piece of media! what is the shit y’all are constantly preaching about having the ability to consume media critically ? because you’re trying to cancel a fucking trailer based on the contents of the trailer alone !!!!! hello !!!!!!!!

media is bound to be problematic. if y’all were as quick to judge any movie as you did this one, guess what you wouldn’t be watching any movies like ever <3

anyway lets get into the parts that are probably going to get me cancelled lmao

ben platt - listen. LISTEN. listen i know he’s too old to be reprising evan we ALL know he’s too old to be reprising evan i’ve heard this same argument since the announcement was made we get it we all know. haha he’s a grandpa yes bestie ur so right ur so funny wow. i do agree that we should’ve maybe had a not-ben-platt evan moment but here’s some things to keep in mind: the arguments of “oooh ABF is right there !!!!!!” 1. who’s to say he was available? 2. the environment of a movie is so, SO much different than that of a musical -- as much as you wanna pretend you know everything from just a trailer, there’s no way of knowing what scenes were added that might’ve made the movie like.. idk possibly more intense story-wise not even COUNTING the fact that just inherently a movie set is different than a musical one? like yes ben platt might be just being used as a device but that’s probably not the sole and only reason. Also, if i see One (1) more comment about his FUCKING HAIR 😃 first of all it’s not that deep like... if you’re so distracted by an actor having their hair different that’s on you, but going as far as to call it bad or distracting or being like Vehemently a way about it? y’all i know it’s most likely not your intention but that is literally just ben platt’s natural fuckin ETHNICALLY JEWISH hair sajknfgkjds!!!! i’m not the first to make this point, but like dsjnfkjdsg!??! y’all are being so mean about it and for WHAT? again, maybe not intentional, but it reads as like high key Very antisemetic and you should.... maybe not 😳 be that way

connor. the thing about a trailer is that they don’t show you all the scenes because they want you to come see the movie. right? can we agree on that? all the connor scenes in the trailer had SEVERAL hard cuts, omitting a lot of the scene -- like the computer lab scene! we see the beginning of it, there’s a VERY obvious hard cut, and then he’s running out! in my opinion my first watch through of this trailer i had a very like “:// hmm all these actors feel a lil like dry”, but man oh man the comments ive seen about connor. holy shit guys. this boy gets 7 minutes of stage time in the actual musical, and the whole thing is we DON’T KNOW VERY MUCH ABOUT HIM. not to burst your bubble, and i by no means hate connor, i love me some good connor lives fics and stuff, but everything we write with connor being alive? that is !! speculation on our part !!!! those are headcanons and us using the little context we have!! connor doesn’t have any significant development IN THE SOURCE MATERIAL that is being adapted into a movie !!! you 1. can’t fully judge a character with already limited screentime in a 3 minute trailer, 2. can’t really call what connor has canonically in the musical as in depth character development !! what is his arc then !!!! he pushes evan, goes to the computer lab, has an outcast loner kid moment, gets upset, takes the letter, DIES. sorry stans, that’s just how it is !! and, AND, everything in between, all the idiosyncracies, that depends on the actor playing connor! speaking of, you know who the actor is playing connor in the movie? that’s right, colton ryan! so, i don’t know, maybe... have some trust in the process, in an actor who ALREADY has played connor on broadway???? and also trust that you will get more connor content then u are seeing from a 3 minute trailer!! dhgnijsdg and some of the comments on like his appearance specifically? like are you really made that he doesn’t have long hair?? they kept his nails and his rings but nahhh the hair was apparently a MUST HAVE (even though like.. not all connor actors on broadway always had/have long hair but w/e).. REGARDLESS. tldr on THAT , the movie would have to do a pretty shitty job if they want to take something from someone who doesn’t have much to begin with and i think y’all are being extremely harsh on this point

jared. honestly i’m a bit worried too about the like... name change, because it does have the potential to be taking out some representation, but... they did change the name to fit the actor’s ethnicity? it’s a really [hmm] topic because, again, from a trailer and from what we have been told we don’t KNOW a lot of the context, but i think it’s important to remember that uh.. jewish people aren’t just? always white ?? there’s a possibility they changed the last name to fit with the [ethnicity] while keeping him jewish?? ofc there’s the possibility that they Didn’t and ... again hm that’s its own thing altogether but just reiterates the point that you can’t knock a whole movie just based on the trailer. you can’t talk about things you know nothing about.

alana. same thing as before, you can’t.... completely bash a character based on a 3 minute trailer. there was discussion about how she seemed ‘shy’ when talking to evan, which like.. maybe she is but also that scene was them talking in a library like if u actually take notice of what’s happening in the scene jdskngsd though i do share the general consensus with many others that she won’t get a lot of screen-time but that’s neither here nor there 😔 moving on

scenes and the setting. one of the things i was most like.. tentative about in regards to a switch from a musical to a movie was how they were like... going to do certain scenes? naturally, a lot has to be different when we’re going from a minimal stage set to an entire movie with like.. settings. there are going to be new scenes because a movie lends to have like, physical places that aren’t just [evan’s bedroom] and [murphy kitchen] and [implied school]. so new scenes, new conversations, slightly different pacing.. this is all to be expected right like are y’all geneuinely surprised here or ........

there’s a lot we aren’t seeing yet because this is a TRAILER. again i already mentioned this re: connor but like... again, y’all are making some Claims that just... fucking outlandish. there are so many moments in the trailer that are very obvious Hard Cuts. you don’t have all the information yet. you are angry at a tiny fragment of something that is confusing you because you don’t have all the context. is there a chance that some of this shit is just genuinely Bad? yeah but you really cannot 100000% say it with your chest and gauge it without seeing the movie and understanding what that scene is in context. lowkey uhhh saw some jokes about the zoe scene in the car and :’))) ? jesus? christ????

concluding thoughts because my brain hurts but like. you don’t have to like the movie. you don’t have to WATCH the movie. like all media if you choose to consume the movie you should do so with some CRITICAL THOUGHT. but, just like the novel (and i do not want to have any discussions about that i don’t care if you think it’s good Or bad that’s not what this is about) you guys are going in this WANTING to believe it’s bad and completely polarizing your thoughts on what this is going to be. yeah, maybe there shouldn’t be a movie. i genuinely think we could’ve gone without. but it’s just a piece of media, it’s not a progression like all your (musical is good, novel is bad, MOVIE IS WORSE OH NO) posts are suggesting. they are all just. different pieces of media stemming from a source. at the end of the day it’s just a fucking movie. if you already hate it so much, guess what? you don’t have to watch it! you don’t have to put so much needless fucking hate into a 3 MINUTE TRAILER. you can stop being performative and dissing it for its poor treatment of POC while then going on to make fun of ben platt’s hair and just targeting a different group like! please !!!

i’m not trying to be a fuckin’ advocate for this movie because there’s so much opportunity for it to suck, i do Not have high hopes for it, and i’m not even really sure i want to watch it (i bought the novel when it came out and have yet to read it, and i’m sure the movie will like.. elicit very similar vibes from me lsdngjkdsg like im just not uhhh feeling it) but y’know what? watching the trailer did not bring forth the fucking onslaught of hatred in me that apparently has fuckin posessed all of y’all and like djnsgjksdg plagued my dashboard for this whole evening. don’t come into my inbox trying to like.. argue with me about this (preemptively im turning off anon because i like i Can’t lmao) this is just like... a rant i needed to get out of me real quick.

SO. tldr for now: have critical thought about shit you consume, there’s no ethical consumption under [the film industry], you can’t judge a movie entirely on its trailer, and y’all need to calm the fuck down

#garbage.txt #deh movie #ask to tag #irrelevant #bc this is lowkey a vent bc jfc #this isn't @ anyone btw this is just [in general mostly just from my dash] bc.. sighs #anyway im gonna refrain from making any more comment on this its just. frustrating.#edit: ok to rb

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wherevermyway · 3 years

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like covalence // binchan // oneshot // 18+

❄ part of yuki’s favourites! ❄

pairing: bang chan x seo changbin | past lee minho x seo changbin rating: explicit! 18+ warnings/tags: friends-to-lovers, past character death, angst, hurt/comfort, insomnia, explicit sexual content. also, this fic is soft as hell and i love it, okay? word count: 9,746 also on AO3

originally posted: 09 december 2020

Waking up in the middle of the night to surprise phone calls always caused a panic to arise in Chan. The last time he received a call so early in the morning, it was his best friend, Changbin. He was panicking because his boyfriend was admitted to hospital and was dying.

This phone call, however, isn't nearly as horrifying. Changbin is having a bad bout of insomnia, nightmares preventing him from sleeping, and he needs a little help. So, Chan offers to talk him through it. Neither of them, however, expect for their conversation to take such a dramatic turn.

Sometimes, two people are meant to be together, their attraction pulling them into each other to make something greater, like covalent bonds.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.

Phone calls at two in the morning were never good. When Chan’s phone trilled, ripping him from his dream, he bolted upright, eyes still glued shut from sleep. He reached over to the nightstand, miscalculating the distance and mistaking it for his nightstand back home. A sleepy grumble rumbled in his throat as he pushed himself further and managed to half-open one of his eyes. The bright screen caused him to squint his half-open eyelid further closed in discomfort.

Changbin. Shit, why was Changbin calling him at two in the morning? The last time Changbin called him in the middle of the night… No, it was probably something minor. It had to have been minor.

Chan fumbled his thumb a bit, swiping his finger against the bottom of his phone to accept the call. “Bin? What happened?”

“Shit, I knew this was stupid,” a low voice echoed in Chan’s ear canal. “You…” the voice trailed off. The younger man cleared his throat on the other end of the line and sighed. “You said I could call you if I ever needed anything, right?”

“Did you get thrown in prison or something?”

“What? No, dude.” Changbin squeaked, then cleared his throat again, lowering his voice. “Why would you think that?”

Chan groaned, turning to the desk lamp on the nightstand, fumbling with the drawstring to turn it on. “It’s two in the morning. You don’t sound panicky, so I figured nobody died or some—” Oh. Chan’s eyes go wide, and he slaps his forehead as he realizes the gravity of what he just said. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Changbin decidedly ignores Chan’s statement, and is quiet for an extended pause. “I can’t sleep, Chan.”

“Again?”

There’s a whimper on the other line. “It’s getting out of hand, dude. I’m starting to see shit, hear things that aren’t there. I try so hard to fucking sleep, but whenever I close my eyes, I just feel so tense. I can’t stop thinking. He’s there, he’s everywhere. The dripping of his IV, the beeping of the machines, the alarms, how fucking pale he looked. God dammit.”

Chan settles up against the flat pillow of his hotel bed, bringing the back of his hand to his forehead as he stares up to the ceiling. “You’re having nightmares about Minho again, aren’t you?”

There’s a bit of a sniffle that comes from Changbin. “Yeah. I know it’s only been ten months, and I can’t imagine what I’m gonna be like when the anniversary comes around. All I know is that I miss him and it fucking hurts.”

“You’ll get through it, Binnie. I’ll be there with you once I’m back from this business trip in a couple of days.”

“That’s not gonna help me sleep right now, though.”

“I’d get on a flight back to Seoul right now if I could, just to smack you upside the head really good and knock you out that way.”

Both of them laugh. “That might be the nicest act of violence someone’s ever threatened me with,” Changbin quips.

“I do what I can.” A soft laugh comes from Chan. “I mean it, though. I’m here for you, Binnie. Let it all out. Maybe it’ll help you sleep.”

“Can I,” Changbin pauses, and there’s some shuffling on the other line. “It’s gonna sound kinda stupid, but I wanna see your face. Are you decent enough for video?”

Chan’s face flushes, and he runs his lips in between his teeth for a moment, releasing them with a pop. “Yeah. Hair might be a mess, though.”

“Your hair’s always a mess.”

“Man, fuck you.” They laugh again, and Chan pulls his phone away from his face, tapping a couple of buttons on screen. “Gimme a sec and… okay, there.” There’s nothing but black on Chan’s phone for a bit. Shortly after that, there’s some shuffling and choice words coming from Changbin’s line as he turns a light on.

Chan sees what he assumes to be Changbin’s ceiling, until the younger man comes back into view, grabbing his phone, running fingers through his black hair. “I wasn’t expecting that without notice. You could’ve warned me,” he whines. There’s a bit of a glare reflecting on his glasses for a moment as he flops down onto his pillow. “Man, you look pretty out of it.”

“You woke me up at two in the morning, dude, what were you expecting?” Chan rolls his eyes, feigning irritation, but the way a smile creeps up on his face, showing off the dimple in his cheek, throws any sense of seriousness out of the window. “Those bags under your eyes aren’t helping you, either.”

Changbin frowns and flips off the camera. “You’re an asshole.”

“I could hang up the phone right now,” Chan shrugs.

“Please,” Changbin’s face twisted into a pout, “don’t hang up on me.” There was a sadness reflected in his eyes, something that looked like it had been building up for a while. The younger man turned onto his side, towards the light on his desk, and a tear fell down the side of his face. “Sorry, I know you were joking, it’s just… I’m tired of being alone, Chan.”

The older man pursed his lips, knitting his brows together as he shifted into a more comfortable position. “You’re never totally alone, Bin, you know? I’m here for you. I might not be able to be there right now with you, but I—”

“Can I move in with you?”

The question caught them both off guard.

“Wait, shit,” Changbin shook his head and groaned, burying his face into his pillow. “That was horrible timing. Fuck.”

Chan scoffed. “Of course you can move in with me. That sounds kinda nice, actually,” he smiled, showing off a bit of his teeth. “My apartment’s been quiet lately, anyways. Should probably try and settle down at some point, but I can’t seem to find the right person. While Jisung sure wasn’t good for me, I have to admit that it’s been so quiet since he’s been gone.”

“Oh, god,” Changbin awkwardly laughs, pulling his sweatshirt up over his chin and nibbles on the inner seam of the tip of the fabric. “You and Jisung,” his voice is slightly muffled through the sweatshirt, “you two were a clusterfuck of bad ideas. He was definitely not the right person for you.”

The older man scowls, staring directly at the tiny camera on his phone. “Come on, we weren’t that bad.”

“Chan,” Changbin stresses, rolling his eyes. “I really don’t need to remind you of the time you showed up at my apartment — unannounced, mind you — shortly after midnight, because you found out he was cheating on you the first time.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll give you that.” Chan shrugs. “That was over a year ago, though.”

“He cheated on you three times and you went back twice, dude. Twice!” They look at each other over the phone, and Changbin tuts, shaking his head in disapproval. “I’m glad you didn’t go back the last time.”

“Me too,” the older man huffs, then rolls on to his stomach. “He’s dating a new guy now. Some bakery owner. Think his name was Felix?”

Changbin drops the sweatshirt from his mouth and rolls onto his back. “At least he’s out of your hair now. You should seriously stop stalking him on social media.”

“I’m not stalking him!” Chan pleads, “Seungmin’s the one that told me when me met up a couple weeks ago. He thinks he’s doing me a favour by keeping tabs on my ex so that I don’t have to, or some shit.”

“You’ve got some weird friends.”

“You’re easily the weirdest of the group.” Chan smiles. “Kinda why I like you, though.”

Changbin’s eyes go wide for a very brief moment, easy to miss with how quickly it happened. He nervously laughs and looks away from his phone. “Yeah,” he says without confidence, rubbing his hand against his forehead.

“What?” Chan cocks his head to the side. “Should I not’ve called you weird?”

“Nah,” Changbin shakes his head and smirks, bringing his free hand down his face, covering his cheek and part of his mouth with his sleeve. “It’s fine, I am weird, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Why are you acting like it bothered you, then?”

Changbin waves his hand in front of his phone. “It’s nothing, dude. You’re reading too much into it. Anyway, don’t you have to work early tomorrow? I really shouldn’t be keeping you up so late.”

“Stop it,” Chan firmly presses and frowns. His tone causes Changbin to recoil and turn into himself a bit. “Don’t ever apologize for needing me. We’re best friends, this is what we do. So what if I’m a little tired for work tomorrow? I’ll get coffee and deal with it. You’re my best fucking friend and I’ll do anything for you. I can’t take away your pain, so this is the next best thing I can try to offer.”

“Chan,” Changbin starts, his eyes starting to turn glossy again. He opens his mouth to speak, but instead shakes his head, rolling onto his side and buries his face into his pillow. He drops his phone and Chan assumes that he’s about to start crying.

The older man stifles a sigh. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Changbin.”

“It’s not that, it’s just…” Changbin chokes a bit and muffles something incoherent into his pillow. Chan lets him unravel a bit, knowing that his friend clearly needs it.

The younger man never really showed his emotions to most people; Chan and Minho were likely the only two people that had seen Changbin cry so openly. He put on a tough exterior, only letting it fall just enough around their friend group. Until recently, Chan had only seen him cry a couple of times: once, when he got mad at Chan for going back to Jisung after being cheated on the first time; the second time was when Minho had died. Changbin had collapsed at his hospital bed and completely broke down.

Losing Minho really damaged Changbin. He had steeled himself further in never being outwardly emotionally vulnerable, but in response to suppressing his emotions so dramatically, he broke down like this more often than he would admit. There had been numerous times where Chan had called or stopped by, and it was obvious Changbin had been crying. His voice would be raspy, his eyes bloodshot, face flushed, and he was unusually withdrawn and reserved.

After a bit, Changbin cleared his throat. He didn’t pick up his phone, but continued the conversation as if nothing happened. “Sorry,” he chokes out, then clears his throat. “I don’t know what I did to get lucky enough to have a friend like you. I just,” the younger man sighs and his lips vibrate against each other with a hum, “you and Minho are the world to me, and now Minho is gone. I’ve only got you. I love you, man.”

“I love you too, Changbin.” There was a burning building up in Chan’s chest, almost like he wanted to cry because he knew that his friend was so miserable; it felt like he was going through the emotional turmoil himself. “If I could take away the pain of your loss, I would.”

“I couldn’t put you through that, dude.” Changbin picks up his phone, pointing it back down to his reddened face. “You know, I watched a movie once. Don’t remember what it was called, but there was a quote that stuck with me for a while.” He looks far past the camera, up towards the ceiling. “I didn’t really get it until after Minho died. The quote was something like, ‘there’s a poem at the temple called loss. It has only three words that the poet has scratched out, since you cannot read loss, only feel it.’ It hurts, but it’s true.”

“We watched that movie together, you dumbass,” Chan scoffed, then laughed. “Memoirs of a Geisha or something.”

“Oh,” Changbin laughs softly, biting his lip. “That was our in-house double date, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Chan smiles, fondly looking back on the memory, and how Changbin seemed so happy with Minho. His smile was so bright, so carefree, so full of light and love, so much softer than it was now. “Minho picked the movie at random and none of us were really paying attention to it because we got kinda drunk. It was fun, though.”

A smile spreads across Changbin’s face. “That was a good time. Jisung was kind of annoying that night, but you looked really happy with him.”

“He was just awkward. Barely knew you two, so I can’t really blame him.”

A tsk. “Dude, you gotta stop defending him,” Changbin cocks his eyebrows and shakes his head. “Look, I should’ve told you sooner, but you always deserved better than him. I always thought he was so shallow and one-sided. Like, he never looked at you like you were his first priority in life.”

Chan tries to think of something to say in response, but simply shrugs his shoulders. “I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right, dude. You need someone that loves you like—” Again, Changbin’s eyes go wide, as if he catches himself about to say something stupid, then he shakes his head. “Someone that loves you like you truly deserve. Like you’re their reason for waking up in the morning, someone that’s always happy to see you and will accept you for who you are, no matter what. Chronically messy hair included.”

A gnawing feeling envelopes Chan’s abdomen, causing him to feel a bit uneasy. “Someone like a best friend,” he mutters, then quickly realizes how that comes off and corrects himself, “someone like Minho was to you, yeah?”

Changbin nods, but there’s a strange tension between them now. They stare at each other with slight nervousness behind their eyes. “Like Minho, yeah, or,” Changbin says each word as clearly as possible, looking like he was carefully thinking over what he was saying, “someone like a best friend.” The words came out slowly, with calculus. He knew what he had said, and exactly how it was going to be interpreted.

The feeling in Chan’s stomach had ballooned across his entire torso as he realized what was really happening between the two of them. “Changbin,” he manages to squeak out, nearly dropping his phone on his face from how badly his palms had started to sweat. “There’s something I’ve gotta ask.” Chan sits upright, too enveloped in the moment to pay attention to how he looks on camera.

Changbin sits up, too. He brings the hem of his sleeve up to his mouth and anxiously chews at it as he nods. “What is it, Channie?”

The older man tenses at the nickname rolling off his friend’s tongue. Changbin very rarely ever called him Channie, and that somehow made him all the more nervous. “I,” he stutters out, “maybe I’m just reading into this too much, but there’s something happening here, isn’t there?”

“Something…” Changbin shrinks into himself a bit, looking down at his sleeve.

They sit in awkward silence for several moments too long. The discomfort was overtaking Chan, and he felt like he was about to explode, until he decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He let all of his pent up thoughts spill from the bottom of his heart. “It started before Minho. Years before Minho, I know it. Back at the end of high school.”

The younger man peers over the frames of his glasses, but doesn’t move, nor does he say anything.

“I think we were too stupid to realize it when we were younger. Probably too afraid to act on it and fuck up our friendship. God,” Chan wipes his face, not realizing that the nervousness of pouring out all of his feelings had caused a couple of tears to spill from his eyes. “You started dating Minho after we started our senior year of university. I remember you being really scared about it, saying you were worried you weren’t the right person for him, but now I think you were worried he wasn’t the right person for you.”

Changbin buries his face into his elbow, saying nothing.

The burning in Chan’s abdomen starts to alleviate a bit, like a knot is unravelling, but the nervousness still courses through his veins. He was in too deep to stop now. “You got lucky with him, and I know you loved him as much as he loved you. You deserved someone like him, Binnie, you really did. It was unfair that Minho was taken from you so early.”

A choked noise comes up from Changbin as he drops his phone, the camera angled in such a way that Chan can see him pull his knees into his chest as he tries to avoid crying again.

“I know you miss him, and you should. But you’ve been running to me a lot ever since you lost him. I don’t believe it’s because you have no one else to turn to, nor do I think it’s an unhealthy thing. Clearly, we trust each other a lot.” Chan took in a long, deep shaky breath. There was no turning back, so he was going to pull out all of the stops. “You’re my best friend, Changbin. I love you and that’s never gonna change. But, it’s only fair that you know that I love you as more than just a friend, and I’m gonna guess that you love me like that, too, even if you don’t admit it.”

“Channie,” the younger man whines, still curled up in himself.

“You know I’d do anything for you, Bin. I’ve always said that, and I’m always going to mean it. I’m gonna say it again, and I want you to hear it clearly: I love you, Changbin.”

There are tears rolling down Chan’s face, now. Not tears of sadness, but tears of relief. The knot that had been coiled up inside of him for years had finally unravelled, causing all of the tension built up inside of him to finally release.

“I,” Changbin lifts his head from his elbow, then shakily reaches for his phone, bringing it up to his face. “I love you, too. I have for so long, but I didn’t realize that’s what it was until after Minho died. I just thought I was being an idiot about my feelings, and..” His voice trails off, and he closes his eyes, shaking his head. “I didn’t wanna lose you, Channie.”

“You idiot,” Chan scoffs, wiping his face. “It’d take a lot more than that to scare me away. We know too many dark secrets about each other to have something threaten our friendship like that.”

“You mean too much to me,” the younger man whines, tucking his chin into his chest. “It sounds nice, though.”

“What does?”

“You telling me that you love me. It feels different now, but I love hearing it.” Changbin flops backwards onto his pillow, turning his head to the side so he can rest his phone against the pillow as he closes his eyes. “It’s like the way a satisfying chord hits in a song and you just feel warm in your entire body.”

Chan hums, gently rolling onto his back, imitating Changbin’s positioning. “That’s oddly specific.”

A grin spreads on the younger man’s face. “I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours, dude. Let me be weirdly specific.”

“Changbin,” Chan whispers with a smile.

“Hmm?” Changbin cocks his head upward.

“Look at me.”

The younger man whines as he opens his eyes. “What?”

“I wanted you to see my face when I tell you that I love you.”

There’s a soft shade of scarlet that tints Changbin’s face as he parts his lips, mentally replaying the words over in his head. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Changbin.”

“Yeah,” the younger man closes his eyes again, smiling widely. “I love you too, Chan.”

“I suppose that does sound good, doesn’t it?”

Changbin softly nods his head and hums.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” Chan’s eyes grow heavy as he watches Changbin slowly melt into his pillow.

“No,” the younger man whines, pulling his brows together, as if he were going to protest. “Insomniacs don’t sleep, stupid.”

Chan smiles a bit and nuzzles his cheek against his pillow. “Yeah, yeah,” he closes his eyes and listens to Changbin’s breathing on the other line. “Insomniacs…” his voice trails off as he drifts into sleep.

“Fuck!” Chan bolts upright in a cold sweat as the soft rays of dawn start to pour into his hotel room. He looks over his shoulder at the digital clock, reading 05:47. Once he realizes he hasn’t slept through his alarm, like he did in his dream, a sigh of relief escapes his lips. He unceremoniously flops back down onto his pillow, grabbing his phone to watch Changbin.

The younger man is still asleep, covering his face with his elbow. Some soft snoring can be heard if Chan really focuses on it, and taking in the moment warms his heart. There’s a moment where Chan realizes something, and he gets a look of determination on his face as he taps around on his phone.

“Oh, that’s perfect timing.” He mutters some other words incoherently to himself as he continues tapping away until he sends off something and relaxes. “Well, that’ll take care of that.”

Changbin didn’t mean to pass out on the line, but it was inevitable. For the first time in months, he actually felt relaxed enough to sleep for longer than a couple of hours at a time. His eyes fluttered open, greeted by the sunlight from his window. It felt later than Changbin expected as he stared out at the Seoul skyline. He sleepily reached for his phone, not surprised that the call had been terminated.

It was 09:13. He had a mass of texts from Chan, which he immediately opened after he unlocked his phone.

06:57 | chan: ok so i’ll admit i’ve been up for a while just staring at you, watching you sleep and it’s just 06:58 | chan: holy shit that sounds really creepy without context… whatever 06:59 | chan: i don’t know what to say 07:00 | chan: i love you binnie 07:01 | chan: sorry i have to cut our video call short before you wake up but i’m glad you finally slept for once 07:02 | chan: i’ve got a busy day ahead of me but we should chat later, yeah? 07:02 | chan: gonna say it again just because i can, you can’t stop me 07:03 | chan: no, literally, you can’t because you’re asleep lol 07:04 | chan: wow that was a stupid joke. anyway! 07:04 | chan: i love you, text me when you wake up

“Oh,” Changbin whispers to himself. Memories of the night prior had started to flood back up, causing him to flush in slight embarrassment. He really admitted that he was in love with his best friend, and he hadn’t just dreamt of it. It was completely unexpected, but he welcomed it with open arms.

He shot off a quick “morning, love you too, weirdo” text to Chan, still nervous over what exactly to say. Honestly, the encounter last night felt a bit like a fever dream, caused by his insomnia. He figured that he had exaggerated a bit of it, but these texts confirmed how real it all was.

Changbin stared at the ceiling for longer than he’d like to admit, eventually shifting his way to his feet, shuffling away to his washroom to shower. As he stripped his clothes off, nearly ready to step into the warm shower, his phone vibrated against the porcelain of the sink. Normally, he would have ignored it, but on the off chance it was Chan, he didn’t want to risk missing it.

09:40 | chan: “insomniacs don’t sleep” huh? 09:40 | chan: are you working today?

A bit of a grin curls up on Changbin’s face as he reads Chan’s messages. He shoots off a “nope, stuck at home so you should call me when you’re free” text, then sets his phone down on the sink before retreating off into the shower.

His shower is brief, just enough to quickly wash off. It couldn’t have been more than maybe eight minutes before Changbin was back out on the cool linoleum floor, rubbing a towel around his head, then wrapping it around his waist. As soon as the towel is securely tucked around him, he grabs his phone to see he’s missed two calls from Chan. He wastes no time returning the call, surprised when Chan picks up on the second ring.

“Changbin!” The excitement in Chan’s voice startles Changbin a bit. “I thought you said you didn’t have to work today?”

“I don’t,” the younger man grumbles, “I just wanted to take a quick shower. Didn’t think you were gonna be so quick to call me.”

“You said you’re staying home today, right?”

Changbin squints as he looks at himself in the mirror, parting his hair with a comb. “Yeah, I mean, I usually do on Sundays. Why?”

“What are you doing right now?” Chan sounds a bit too excited over the phone, causing Changbin to feel a bit suspicious.

“I just told you, dude,” he sighed, setting the comb down on the countertop. “I was showering, saw I missed a couple calls from you, so I’m standing in the washroom, freezing myself half to death because I didn’t grab any clothes to put on right after.”

There’s a deep breath on the other line. “Changbin,” Chan starts, his voice a bit nervous.

“What?”

“You should go to your front door.”

Changbin furrows his brows in confusion, shaking his head a couple of times. “Why?”

“Would you just trust me? Go on, just go.”

The younger man opens his mouth to protest, but the line goes dead. Changbin pulls his phone away from his ear, staring at the “call terminated” message on his screen before it disappears. “What a fucking weirdo,” he grumbles to himself, but makes his way out of the washroom and towards the front door anyways. “This is dumb,” but yet, he still unlocks his front door and opens it. He looks down at the ground, seeing nothing, then pulls the door back, looking at the front of it and, again, sees nothing.

“The fuck? Goddammit, Chan.” Admittedly, Changbin had gotten his hopes up that something or someone would be there because, honestly, why else would Chan have called him to tell him that, then hang up on him? As he slipped back behind the door, moving to close it, a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

“You know,” the voice chirps up from around the corner, and Changbin’s eyes go wide, “I did say I’d come by and smack you upside the head to knock you out, but you already slept. Guess I’ve gotta come up with something new, huh?” Chan came around the corner, wearing a cocky grin as he made eye contact with a very surprised Changbin.

“I thought,” the younger man shakes his head in shock, “you weren’t supposed to be back for… how are you even?”

Chan shrugged his shoulders and waved a hand in the air. “I may or may not have fabricated a bit of a lie, saying that someone I knew was sick and I needed to come back to Seoul to take care of them. They didn’t need me there to begin with, anyways.”

The air between them is tense, but not with a nervous tension. There’s a pining energy between both of them, causing Changbin to take an inviting step back as Chan steps forward into his apartment. He swallows hard, letting go of the door as he backs up into the wall. “So, this person that’s sick, I assume you mean that’s me?”

The older man closes the distance between them, and the front door slams shut. “Yeah,” Chan lowers his voice. “Guess you’ve come down with something.”

“That’s a drag,” Changbin’s voice quivers a bit with nervousness, yet he confidently looks up at Chan. “Suppose I need someone to help take care of me with whatever I’m sick with, huh?”

Chan takes his hands, placing one on Changbin’s hip, and places the other one on the side of his neck. The touch causes the younger man to shiver and melt into his hand, softly exhaling. “Lovesickness,” Chan whispers with a coy smirk on his face, craning his head down next to Changbin’s ear. “There’s only one thing that cures that.”

Changbin wants to laugh at the stupidity of how cheesy that sounded, but instead, he found himself bringing his hands up to Chan’s back, digging his fingers into the soft cotton of his shirt. He gently rubs his cheek against the older man’s, whispering into his ear. “How are you going to cure me?”

“With this kind of sickness,” a quiet tsk comes from Chan, and it causes the hairs on the back of Changbin’s neck to rise, “the only thing I can do is give aggressive treatment.”

Before Changbin can make a proper comeback, Chan takes the hand around the younger man’s neck, sliding his thumb around his jawline to get a steady grip. The older man pulls back, making brief eye contact with Changbin before he hastily brings their faces together, crashing their lips against each other.

There’s soft electricity that bounces between the two of them, like this moment was meant to happen for so long, and there was finally a delicious payoff. Changbin expected more awkwardness between them for their first kiss, but everything just blended together. He drags a hand up to Chan’s neck, pulling him in closer.

Chan chuckles against Changbin’s lips, opening his mouth a bit as an invitation. The younger man wastes no time pressing his tongue forward, rolling it around cautiously against the older man’s tongue. He accidentally lets out a bit of a whine, which causes Chan to pull the two of them together, subconsciously grinding up against one another.

Changbin pushes up against Chan, bringing his hands down the older man’s body, down to his hands. He pulls away from the kiss, tugging at Chan’s hands. “Come on,” he whispers, “I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

“Impatient, are we?” Chan grins, not budging as Changbin tries to pull him along.

“It just feels,” there’s a pause as Changbin sheepishly looks down at his feet. “Feels like it should happen, you know?”

Chan shakes his head and scoffs. He pulls back, then ducks down and scoops Changbin up under his knees and pulls him off the floor and into his chest.

“The fuck are you doing?” Changbin practically shouts, eyes wide with panic as he’s hoisted up into the air.

“Working on giving you what you want, duh.”

Changbin huffs in embarrassment, but still wraps his arms around Chan’s neck. “Awfully brash of you, don’t you think? We’re not even dating, dude.”

“Oh, come on. You were thinking about this, too. You literally just said it feels like it should happen,” Chan scoffs as he maneuvers them both through the bedroom door. “Like not dating someone ever stopped either of us from sleeping with people in university. If you’re worried I’m gonna see you naked and be upset,” he pauses, gently placing Changbin onto his bed before crawling over him. “Well, I mean, really, every time we’ve gone to the gym together? Really?”

“Your arrogance truly knows no bounds,” Changbin frowns as he quips.

“Admit it,” Chan smirks, “it’s a big reason you love me, isn’t it?”

The words cause Changbin’s brain to short circuit for a minute before he rapidly blinks himself back to reality. “Yeah,” he sputters out, “yeah, I love you. All of you. Your stupid arrogance and all.”

It’s apparent that Chan wasn’t expecting such a serious response, but he smiles genuinely down to Changbin. “I love you too, Binnie.” He presses a quick peck to Changbin’s forehead, then pulls back and grins. “It’s way better saying that in person.”

“It’s better hearing it in person, too,” Changbin reaches his hands up to Chan’s face, pulling him back down for a proper kiss. “It’s not fair, though,” he whines in between kisses, “you’re a bit overdressed for the occasion.”

“That so, eh?” Chan pulls back, sitting on his heels. “Guess we’re gonna have to do something about that.”

Changbin sits up and cocks an eyebrow and smirks with arrogance. “Way ahead of you.” He reaches down to the bottom of Chan’s shirt and pulls it up, the older man easily complying with his nonverbal demand. Changbin haphazardly tosses the shirt to the floor, then catches himself staring a bit too long at Chan’s torso. “Oh,” he manages to breathe out. “I must not have looked at you close enough the last time we worked out, because this definitely would have gotten stored in my head for later.”

“For later?” Chan smirks.

“Wait,” Changbin vigorously shakes his head and his face reddens. “No, no, no, not like that. I mean, yeah, I would be lying if I said I didn’t think about it, but I wouldn’t just…” He stops speaking, and sighs heavily, burying his head in his hands with embarrassment. “Fuck.”

“You think about me, hmm? You only think about me, or is there something more to that blush you're trying to cover up?”

There’s an awkward pause between them, and Changbin grumbles something to himself before speaking coherently. “Goddammit. Fine, yeah. But only, like, a couple of times.”

Chan reaches forward, gently pulling Changbin’s wrists away from his face, forcing them to make eye contact. “Guess it’s only fair to tell you that the feeling’s mutual,” he whispers.

“What? Seriously?”

“Yeah, but that’s not important right now, not when I’ve got the real thing in front of me.” Chan shrugs and presses a quick peck to Changbin’s lips, then continues offering small kisses down his jawline to his ear. He takes the lobe between his teeth and softly nibbles on it. “Tell me about what you think about when you think of me. Maybe I’ll make it happen.”

Changbin squirms, gasping softly as a jolt runs through him when Chan rolls the sensitive flesh between his teeth. “All I can think about is the fact that you’re still overdressed,” he manages to speak, his voice airy and distracted. Changbin’s clammy fingers tremble as they dance down Chan’s shoulders, down his torso. “You wouldn’t be this dressed if I were to think something distasteful about you. Hypothetically, of course.”

“Hmm,” Chan steadies himself on his knees, reaching down to grab Changbin’s wrists. He pulls them up and brings the younger man’s arms above his head, looking down with confidence. “Have a little patience.”

“I don’t wanna be patient.” Changbin pauses, darting his eyes down, pursing his lips together. “I’ve been waiting for what feels like years, Chan.” His words come out at a low voice as he nervously mutters down into his chest.

Chan must have picked up on the nervousness the man beneath him was feeling. He takes one of his hands and gently lifts Changbin’s chin up. “Look at me,” he whispers as they make eye contact. “Trust me, I’ve been waiting for this for a while, too. I don’t wanna fuck it up,” he sighs and his confident aura drops a bit, “and I guess I’m a little nervous, too.”

Changbin frowns slightly. “Are you hesitating?”

“A little bit, I guess?” Chan shakes his head and shrugs. He scans Changbin’s eyes over a few times, then starts to pull back.

“No,” Changbin interrupts, taking his free hand and quickly pulling Chan in closer to him by the back of his head. They crash their lips together in an awkward, rough kiss. Chan lets go of Changbin’s wrist, softly caressing the younger man’s face as he pushes deeper into the kiss. “You wanna know what I think about?”

“What?” Chan’s response comes out muffled against Changbin’s lips.

Changbin takes Chan’s wrist, guiding his hand down to his neck. “I think about how your hands would feel here,” then he drags the hand down to his sternum, “how your fingernails would scratch against me here.”

Almost as if on reflex, Chan digs his fingers into Changbin’s skin, grazing them down ever so softly. “Like that?”

A soft gasp comes between Chan and Changbin in response. “Yeah,” the younger man breathes, letting go of Chan’s wrist. “I think about how your nails would feel as they dragged down my stomach, all the way down…”

Chan continues trailing his fingers down, as if Changbin’s words were a set of instructions. “Then what?” His fingers stop at the younger man’s hip bones, and he dips his thumb into the corner of the bone, causing Changbin to arch his back and break away from the kiss with a strangled cry.

“Fuck,” he whines, “I wasn’t expecting that.” He dips his head back down, looking up to the older man with nervousness and excitement.

“Well, what’s next?” Chan cocks his head to the side, brushing his thumb against the skin above Changbin’s hip bone. “What do you want?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Changbin whines, rolling his hips up into Chan’s touch. “I want you, Chan.”

For a fleeting moment, a soft smile appears on Chan’s face, before he takes his hand and slides it down, hooking into the towel around Changbin’s waist. This causes the younger man’s eyes to go wide. He licks his lower lip, then nibbles on it as he anxiously nods. “Please,” he whines.

Chan tugs at the taut towel, eventually causing it to unravel. Changbin sighs in approval, letting his eyes flutter shut. He keeps his eyes closed until he feels the bed shift and sees Chan rifling through his nightstand. “What are you doing?” He grumbles, frowning at the distraction. “Why are you going through my shit? Are you looking for something?”

“Yeah,” Chan bites his tongue as he sifts through various papers and paraphernalia in the drawer. “Where the fuck is your lube?”

“Have you ever thought about asking, dude?” Changbin rolls his eyes and moves to the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed. “You really think I’m dumb enough to keep it in the nightstand that’s close to my bedroom door?”

“Come on,” Chan pulls back a bit, desperately trying not to let his eyes wander down. He watches Changbin rifle through his belongings, as he brings his fingers to the waistband of his jeans. The button pops out of the hole effortlessly, and he can’t help but feel relieved as he tugs the zipper down, giving his erection a little bit of relief as it presses up against his boxer briefs.

“Here,” Changbin says, tossing the bottle of lube over towards Chan, not realizing that he wasn’t prepared to catch it. The bottle smacks Chan in the chest and falls just to the side of Changbin’s legs, somehow, thankfully missing any tender areas.

“Ow,” Chan rubs his chest and glares at the younger man. “Why the fuck did you throw it at me?”

Changbin, however, doesn’t respond. He finds himself too distracted by the way the colour of Chan’s navy briefs complements his skin. His head slowly tilts to the side and he stares at the outline of Chan’s cock against his underwear and he blinks a couple of times.

“Why are you staring?” Chan tuts, resting his hand on his hip. “You’ve seen it before.”

“Context,” Changbin shakes his head and stares up at Chan in disbelief before he sits upright, getting into the older man’s face. “Yeah, I’ve seen it, but like, I’ve never seen it like this. Not hard, and definitely not hard for me.”

A bit of a smile creeps up Chan’s lips. “You don’t know that. Maybe you didn’t pay enough attention before.” He winks as he hooks his thumbs into his jeans and underwear, making deliberate eye contact as he slowly pulls the clothes down.

It’s obvious that Changbin is desperately trying not to watch Chan’s clothes sink to the bed, pooling down at his knees. “I’m paying attention now, though.”

“I can tell. Now,” Chan grabs the lube next to Changbin’s leg and takes a finger, pushing it against the younger man’s chest, “lie down, so I can give you what you want.”

Changbin rests back on his elbows, still trying to maintain eye contact with Chan. “What makes you think I belong down here? Maybe I’d rather ride you?”

“Oh, please,” Chan rolls his eyes as he squeezes some lube onto his fingers, then haphazardly discards the bottle to the side of the bed. “I know you too well. You’re an observer, not a performer. You’d rather be down there watching me put in all the effort.” The older man winks and slides his fingers between Changbin’s legs.

A frustrated huff comes from Changbin as he lies fully on his back. “Yeah, yeah,” he frowns. “I guess you have a point. I’m not always like that, though. Besides, this lack of sleep has me exhausted, so I really don’t wanna put in too much energy.”

Chan raises one of his eyebrows as he teasingly rubs a finger around Changbin’s entrance, eliciting a soft gasp from the younger man. “You know,” he whispers as his index finger slowly glides inside, “I did just get on an hour-long flight on very little sleep to come and see you. I even lied to my boss, saying you were sick. Maybe I don’t wanna put in effort either, and maybe I do wanna watch you ride me.”

Changbin’s eyes shut tightly as he loses himself in the sensation of how Chan’s finger explores his insides. “We agreed, though,” he breathes out and grips the sheets underneath him, “lovesickness, or whatever stupid cheesy thing you came up with. You said you were going to ‘aggressively treat’ me, or something like that.” He opens one of his eyes and looks up at Chan. “So do it. Show me what you’re gonna do.”

“Oh, I’ll show you what I’m gonna do, all in good time. I do have to commend you, though,” Chan tuts as he slides his middle finger inside, causing Changbin to choke on his own saliva, “you’re a lot bolder than I expected you would be in the sheets. Always pinned you as the pillow princess type, and you’re kinda proving my point.”

“Fuck you,” Changbin shakes his head and growls at Chan. “I am not a pillow princess.”

Chan slips his middle finger completely inside and grins as Changbin’s cocky demeanour falters a bit in reaction. “You totally are. You wanna roll your head back and let go completely right now, that much is obvious. You’re just pretending to channel some arrogant energy and I see right through it.”

“I hate you,” Changbin spits through his teeth as he reaches up to Chan’s shoulders, gripping them tightly.

“No, you don’t.”

Changbin rolls his eyes and shoves Chan back a bit, then rolls him around onto his back, causing the older man’s fingers to slide out of him. “You specifically riled me up because you knew I’d do this, didn’t you?”

Chan, while still a bit shocked by Changbin suddenly reversing their roles, manages to flash a cheeky grin. “So, maybe I did? It worked, didn’t it?”

“You’re insufferable, you know?” Changbin rolled his eyes, then grabbed Chan’s lubed hand as he positioned himself over Chan’s stomach. “I’m not done with you, yet, though.”

Picking up on Changbin’s intentions, Chan moved his hand closer to the inside of Changbin’s thighs. He worked his fingers back inside the younger man, causing him to stumble forward a bit and grab the headboard. “So nice of you to consider my exhaustion in all of this.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the younger man sighed. “I still can’t believe you think I’d lay here and do nothing, though.”

“Come on,” Chan scoffs and slowly works his ring finger inside, making Changbin dig his nails into the headboard a bit harder. “I don’t actually think that. Honestly, I have no idea what to expect from you. All I know is that you’re easy to rile up.”

“Seriously? Fuck you,” Changbin whines with insincerity, arching his back as Chan’s fingers stretch him out.

Chan licks his bottom lip, nibbling on it a bit as he watches the arrogance dissolve from the younger man above him. He rotates his middle finger around, offering soft, circular strokes inside of him. When he pushes a bit firmer, it causes Changbin to twitch and let out a bit of a mewl. The older man arrogantly smirks, circling around the sensitive spot a bit more before he pulls each finger out slowly. As Changbin stares down at him in disbelief, Chan shrugs his shoulders. “You could do that. You seem stretched out enough to fuck me.”

For a moment, Changbin looks like he was considering saying something unsavoury, but instead bites his tongue — literally. He shifts back a bit, then grabs the bottle of lube, carelessly squeezing some of it into his hand, then works some of it on to Chan’s cock. “So much for ‘aggressive treatment’, if I’m the one doing all the labour.”

“Hey now,” Chan breathes out, clearly enjoying the way Changbin’s hand feels on him. “Sometimes, you’ve gotta put in effort to be fully healed. Besides, I did my part in stretching you out.”

Changbin shakes his head in feigned irritation. “Yeah, I guess you’re technically right. Makes you the pillow princess now, though.” He playfully winks, then rubs up against the head of Chan’s cock to prevent him from protesting. Once he’s lined up, he slowly slides down, electricity coursing through his veins as the sensation of being filled overtakes him.

“Fuck,” Chan slaps a hand down on to Changbin’s thigh, rolling his head back into the pillow. “Bin, you feel incredible.”

“You’re not even completely inside of me yet,” the younger man’s voice trembles a bit as he grits his teeth. Changbin takes his hand, placing it on top of the hand on his thigh. They both scramble around for a moment, fingers shakily interlacing into each other. “Other hand,” Changbin whines, “gimme your other hand, Channie.” The older man obliges, reaching out to Changbin. They tangle their fingers into knots, and Changbin finally takes Chan fully inside of him, tightly gripping the fingers interlaced with his.

Changbin looks down to Chan’s torso, catching his breath as he lets his body acclimate to the feeling of being connected. Chan presses his elbow down into the bed, releasing his hands from Changbin’s, as he sits upright. He takes his other hand and grips the younger man’s surprised face. “I wanted to be able to kiss you,” he whispers, then tentatively presses his lips to Changbin’s forehead.

“You could’ve just told me,” Changbin sighs, not from irritation, but from contentment.

Chan tsks, kissing a line down from the younger man’s forehead, down his nose, then softly presses his lips against Changbin’s lips. “Wanted to be closer to you,” he punctuates the space in between each word with a quick peck. “I’m not gonna fuck you like a one night stand.”

“Ah,” Changbin nods his head once, grinding his hips up, “so you’re a romantic type, huh?” His voice quivers a bit, and he presses his forehead against Chan’s. “Guess I should’ve known.”

“Doubt you’d complain,” Chan whispers, digging his fingers into Changbin’s back and gripping his neck a bit firmer. “Are you ready, Bin?”

The younger man nods rapidly, hastily pressing his lips against Chan’s. “Yeah,” he affirms, dragging his teeth against Chan’s bottom lip.

The movements are slow, calculated. Chan rolls his hips up into Changbin, letting go of the younger man’s face, placing his arm behind him to support both of them. Changbin leans forward, pressing his weight into his knees as he holds both sides of Chan’s face between his hands. He lifts himself off of his heels, slowly making his way up and down Chan’s length, both of them working in tandem with each other.

“Chan,” Changbin whines, trying to connect their lips together as he gradually increases the pace at which he moves. “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Changbin,” Chan complies, bringing his hand up from the younger man’s back, digging his nails into the soft skin as his fingers glide up. “You mean everything to me.” He brings his hand to Changbin’s neck, stroking his cheek with his thumb. Chan breaks away from their sloppy kiss and presses his forehead to Changbin’s.

“I’m thankful you let me be your best friend,” Chan continues. “You’ve been there with me for over a decade now, and I know I wouldn’t have been able to get through half of the things I’ve been through without you.”

Changbin sarcastically scoffs, breathing heavily as he keeps riding Chan. “I wouldn’t be here,” he shudders as Chan rotates his hips up, changing the way he feels inside of Changbin, “fuck, I wouldn’t have made it through this last year without you.” The younger man whimpers a bit, trying to catch his breath. “I needed you, and you were there. I just, fuck— I love you, Chan. I love you, I love you so much.”

Chan pulls Changbin in closer, trying to kiss the younger man, making a pointed effort to make sure their lips connect. They awkwardly kiss a bit until Changbin moves his hands down to grab Chan’s shoulders, allowing for a bit more control. He moves faster, getting more of a verbal reaction from the older man underneath him. Changbin opens his mouth and Chan wastes no time pushing his tongue into the open space.

They let their tongues dance around each other, exploring the new unknowns, trying to memorize the warmth and dampness of the other’s mouth. Chan drops his hand from Changbin’s face, and the younger man pulls away to protest until he feels the warm hand wrap around his cock, his protest being replaced with a mewl.

“Sorry,” Chan pulls away with a gasp, looking at Changbin with a bit of embarrassment. “I’m already close and I wanted to make sure you got there, too.”

Changbin twitches and rolls his head back, letting out a desperate moan. “Chan,” he whines, “if you keep going, it’s not gonna take me long to…”

“I don’t care,” Chan interrupts, “I wanna see how cute your face looks when you come all over me.”

“Fuck you and your stupid, ah,” Changbin grits his teeth, losing his train of thought as he tries to contain his emotions and fails. “I’m gonna… Chan, I—” He involuntarily leans back on his heels, his head rolling back as his back arches. His shoulders roll up to his ears and he lets out a whine as his body convulses, cum shooting up into the air and landing on both of their stomachs.

Chan bites his lip as he watches Changbin fall apart in front of him. “Can I come inside?” His voice is breathless, words caught between pants as he continues rolling his hips, haphazardly thrusting upward as his motions become slightly jerky and more erratic.

The younger man pants as he nods and reorients himself, bringing himself to collapse into the chest in front of him. “Yeah, yeah, come inside me, Chan.” Changbin nuzzles his head up into Chan’s neck, then firmly sinks his teeth into the sensitive flesh in front of him, eliciting a small gasp from the older man.

“Changbin,” Chan whines, drawing out the last syllable of the younger man’s name as he curls inward and his body trembles. He grips Changbin’s back tightly, squeezing him into a close embrace as he comes. His body quivers for a few moments, then eventually calms down. As his breathing slows to a normal pace, Chan shakily sits upright, exchanging a smile with Changbin. He kisses the younger man’s lips softly, reaching up to his shoulders and pulls them both down to the bed.

A tiny squeal comes up from Changbin as he’s rendered horizontal. “Chan,” he whines as he tries to sit upright, but Chan pulls him into a deep kiss.

“Shut up for a minute,” Chan whispers against Changbin’s lips. They exchange tender, tired kisses for several minutes, until Chan pulls back. He looks up to Changbin, smiling softly. “I love you so much. I really do mean it, Bin. Like, you mean the world to me.”

“I love you too, Chan. More than I could put into words.” Changbin smiles back, brushing some of Chan’s stray hairs out of his face. “You also look really hot right now, literally and metaphorically.” He sighs, taking in the way Chan looks, glistening in sweat and covered in his cum. “As much as I love looking at you like this, though, we’re gross and should absolutely shower.”

“Ah,” Chan shakes his head, trying to force himself to stay awake. “Yeah, good point. Sorry to make you shower again so shortly after you already cleaned yourself up once.”

“It’s fine, I’d say it was a fair trade-off.” The younger man dismissively waves his hand in the air. He shudders as he gets off of Chan, making his way to his feet and offering a hand to the man curled up on the bed beneath him. “You can throw the sheets in the wash and help me make the bed later to make up for it, yeah?”

“Deal.”

Changbin rests his damp head against Chan’s chest, listening to the way his heartbeat thrums against the walls of his ribcage. “As much as I love hearing you tell me how much you love me,” he whispers, “I think listening to your heart might be my favourite thing.”

“Why’s that?”

“Means you’re alive.” Changbin lets his eyes flutter shut. “I could record you saying ‘I love you’ to me and listen to it over and over, but it would be hard to capture exactly how your heartbeat sounds over a recording.”

Chan laughs, the sound blending in nicely with his heartbeat. “As romantic as that sounds, you sound like a bit of a serial killer.”

“You never know,” Changbin tuts, tilting his head up to look at Chan. “I could be. Maybe I hide the bodies in my laundry closet.”

“Oh, please,” the older man rolls his eyes, “you don’t have it in you.”

Changbin walks his fingers over Chan’s chest, towards his nightstand, but stops halfway. “I could keep a knife in there, you know.”

Chan deadpans. “Dude, I know you have one in there.”

“What?” The colour drains from Changbin’s face.

“Yeah,” a laugh bubbles up from Chan’s stomach. “I mean, I don’t know where exactly you keep it, but you told me you had one in your bedroom somewhere. Remember that one time you told me that Minho wanted you to do some kinky shit with a knife, but you both chickened out because you were too afraid you were actually gonna hurt him?”

Changbin’s forehead collides against Chan’s sternum with a thud. “Fuck,” he groans, “I forgot I told you that.”

“You were drunk and Minho was really fucking embarrassed. ‘I can’t believe you’d tell Chan that!’, he yelled at you, and you were all like, ‘Chan knows everything about my sex life, I tell you this all the time!’ and then Minho threw the last of his rice at you and missed.”

Both of them laugh so hard, recalling the memory. “Oh my god,” Changbin doubles over as he laughs. “I totally forgot about that. Then he cried because he couldn’t believe he threw something at me, but then he was more upset that he had missed.”

Chan calmed his laughter down and sighed. “He was quirky. I liked that about him.”

“Me too.” Changbin wraps his arm around Chan’s torso and closes his eyes. “Sometimes, I can still hear his laugh when I walk through the empty apartment. It’s like I can see him on the couch, cats curled up in his lap as he had his feet up on the table, working on some management proposal.

“He’d bite his lip until it bled,” the younger man continued, “he’d get so focused on his stupid work projects. ‘I can’t let them be lost without me,’ he’d tell me after I would’ve scolded him. ‘Gotta make the transition easy, since it could be any day.’” Changbin sighed and shook his head, burying it further into Chan’s chest. “That idiot was more concerned about work than his own health.”

Chan brought up a hand to stroke Changbin’s damp hair. “Concerned over work and you. I think you forgot that he was always so worried about you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Changbin rubbed the back of his hand against the underside of his nose as he sniffled. “He put everyone before himself, which is probably why he got so sick so fast.”

“Hey, no, stop it,” Chan whispered, rolling on to his side as he pulled Changbin into an embrace. “You sound like you’re about to start blaming yourself for something you and I both know was out of your control.”

“But—”

“Changbin,” the older man interjects, “it was terminal. Sure, Minho dying was out of the blue, but you couldn’t’ve stopped it. None of us could have.”

There’s an air of tension in the room, silence filling the void for several moments. “You’re right, I know,” the young man buries his head into Chan’s chest. “Doesn’t make it suck less.”

“It doesn’t,” Chan agrees, “but you’ve gotta live on, keep living the best life you can in his memory.”

“I suppose you’ve got a point.” Changbin nuzzled his way around Chan’s chest to hear the older man’s heartbeat again. “Don’t leave me, Chan.”

“I would never dream of it.” Chan whispers as he runs his fingers through Changbin’s hair. “I’m never gonna leave you. I love you, Changbin.”

“I love you, too, Chan.” Changbin whispers back, and the two men lay there in silence, wrapped up in one another, until sleep overtakes them.

For the first time in nearly a year, Changbin finally slept through the night without a nightmare haunting him.

#like covalence #skz smut #skz fics #binchan #bang chan x seo changbin #seo changbin x bang chan #chan x changbin #changbin x chan #wherevermyway

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peachyunjinnie · 4 years

Note

omg ive been feeling soft abt chan and periods since that one vlive, pwease 🥺

[8:27 pm]

"chan, can you maybe come over?" i read the text over and over again. waiting for his reply patiently. the period cramps were getting worse and worse with any passing second.

"sorry, babe. i was doing the live before. i'll be there in a sec." that little text was the only thing i knew before i fell asleep waiting for my boyfriend to finally come over and comfort me a bit.

the minutes passed and i dived deeper into my long needed sleep after the sleepless and painful night. i was knocked out until i could feel movements in my bed. i quickly opened my eyes and saw the beaming smile that i needed to see.

"you're here!" my voice was gone and a whisper could be heard. i haven't been hoarse in such a long time, but i still knew the uncomfortable feeling of soreness in my throat.

"yeah babygirl. are you sick?" he snuggled into the blanket next to me and stuck his flat palm on my forehead to detect any kind of hotness.

"n-no, it's that time again." i whispered and he stared at me with a dull look of concern on his face. "d-do you need something? i'll cook you something, and you need a heat pad on your belly!-"

"i just need you right here by my side, channie." i hugged him and clung onto him like a money. in that position we have both fallen asleep and had drifted into dreamland.

---

a/n - this is so short but i think this made me uwu more than anyone while writing 🥺 i hope you like it

#stray kids #skz #stray kids chan #skz chan #skz bang chan #stray kids bang chan #bang chan #chan #fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff #bgc #chan fluff

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galpalaven · 2 years

Note

🖊🖊🖊 gib me Nya

ive been sitting here for 10 minutes because idk what I can say without spoiling my book but jfdlks have some vampire: the masquerade AU

🖊 - I've mentioned briefly that Nox and Ilya were actually involved pre-Embrace (on his side, she was Embraced in 1999 following Ur Shulgi's awakening from torpor). He was absolutely enamored with her and the feeling was mutual, and the only reason that Nox left him at all was because she was literally getting so attached that she was thinking about just telling him everything and she and her father were in wayyy too precarious of a position for her to do that.

🖊 - Building off of that, when they found Ilya after he'd been, you know, tortured for 9 months by what turned out to be his Sire, he was absolutely at the point of Frenzy. Between the trauma in general and the breaking of the Blood Bond from Ravan killing Carter in the next room, he was pretty far gone, and Ravan was like yeah I think we gotta kill him, but she wasn't having any of that.

"Can I just try something real fast?"

"Why."

"I just want to try talking to him. Just for a sec."

"My love, that won't work."

"Let me try."

"Okay fine. If he tries to rip your hand off, don't say I didn't warn you."

She walked up to him and she called his name so soft, just the softest, "Ilya, baby, look at me," and it was just like flicking on a light switch. It's actually terrifying, the way his head snaps down so he can look at her, the heaving breaths he'd been taking through the sobbing/snarling freezing in his chest... Her hands shook when she reached out for him, but he let her touch his face and, when she called for him again, he melts, sagging against the restraints.

"Are you real? You're not--I'm seeing things--"

"You're not. I'm here, baby. I'm here to take you home."

"Please."

🖊 - They still don't actually date for like a year after because she's very aware that he has just come out of a very traumatic experience and, not only that, but a Blood Bond is brainwashing on steroids and she absolutely loves him so much but she cannot and will not let what they have start back up like that. Not that she keeps herself like 'at arms length' at all she's still very touchy about taking care of him and comforting him when he's stressed out or having nightmares, but she waits until he's more stable in his newfound un-life before she lets it become more again.

Send me a “🖊+an OC“ and I will talk about that OC! It can be a headcanon, a fun fact, a small paragraph of backstory- anything! Alternatively, send in just a “🖊“ and I will talk about any one of my OCs at random!

#nox pendragon #ilya fisher #;w;

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ellewritesathing · 4 years

Text

(Un)Requited - I.L IV

Summary: Isaac Lahey had gone through many twists and turns in his life, but none of them compared to the whiplash he got when you asked him to tutor you. With a few weeks until the end of the semester and the big dance coming up, he’s hoping to figure out a way to ask you to go with him before it’s too late.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 4

Word-count: 3.4k+

A/N: i’m still working on the last part of this fic so i’ll probably only update again in a week or two!! sorry guys 💕

Things between you and Isaac had been weird ever since he walked away from you that day on the lacrosse field. His jokes were delivered a little more awkwardly, your laughter was a few seconds shorter, and whenever it felt like the tension was starting to dissipate, your phone would light up and Stiles’ name would be on your screen. Isaac hated it.

He hated the anger he carried around in his chest all the time. He hated how jealous he was of Stiles. Most of all, he hated that his relationship with you was fucked because he couldn’t get over a stupid crush. Sure, it was a crush he’d had since he was ten, but it was just a crush. He shouldn’t have let it, for lack of a better word, crush him like this.

Isaac was busy shoving some books into his overpopulated locker when he felt a very familiar tap on his shoulder.

When he turned, you were beaming at him with such warmth and familiarity that Isaac forgot that things were weird between you for a second. “Guess what.” Your voice barely contained your excitement.

“Greenberg walked into a locker again?” Isaac asked, deliberately stalling to keep you around him a bit longer.

You laughed and shoved his arm playfully. “No, silly.” You made the booklet of paper in your hands dance and pressed it into his hands. Your hands were cool to the touch. Probably guessing that he was paying more attention to the physical contact than whatever was on the paper, you pointed to the top corner of the page and said, “Look!”

Isaac repressed a laugh but he still smiled at you before looking down at the paper. It was an algebra test with a B+ in big, red block letters and an extra credit assignment with a perfect score. “No way!” Isaac grinned and pulled you into a hug. “See, I told you that you could do it!”

Your arms wrapped around his waist and you laughed into his chest. Slowly, you looked up at him and tapped his chest lightly. “Yeah, but I never could have done it without you,” you said.

For a moment, it was like the whole world slowed down, leaving you and Isaac alone in the quiet hallway. Isaac almost could have sworn your heart was beating as fast as his was, but that wouldn’t make any sense. There was no reason for your heart to beat faster because of Isaac.

But Stiles showed up before Isaac had a chance to figure out why your heart was beating like that and you pulled away.

“Hey.” He drew the word out in that annoying voice of his. Stiles was unusually easy-going considering that he hated Isaac and he was dating you, and the two of you had been tangled up not even a moment before. “What are we celebrating?”

You'd pulled away from Isaac so that you were only holding onto him with one hand, just barely around his lower back, as you handed Stiles your test. “I’m almost an A student. You know, I’m thinking of changing my career goals from trophy wife to mathematician.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You could totally be a trophy wife and a mathematician,” Stiles said with an aggravating smile. He was so good at saying stuff like that that it drove Isaac up a wall.

You laughed and pretended to be offended as you grabbed your test back. You let go of Isaac to harass Stiles but you soon enough you were laughing and nestling yourself under Stiles’ arm. His fingers interlaced with yours easily as you said something equally charming and witty to him.

“Yeah, yeah.” Stiles rolled his eyes and smiled at you. His thumb grazed yours as he tilted his head down, almost bumping his forehead into your head. “You sure I can’t convince you to grab lunch with me and Scott? We could ditch Scott.”

You let out a self-conscious laugh and ducked your head. “As tempting as that offer is…” you untangled yourself from Stiles and took a step back from him. “Isaac and I have a date with some suits.”

Not that kind of date, Isaac reminded himself as he gave Stiles his best attempt at a friendly smile. Judging by Stiles’ reaction, it came out as more of a grimace.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Stiles scratched the side of his face. “Cutting the dance prep a little short, aren’t you?”

Isaac straightened up and tried to get the venom out of his voice. “Yeah, well, we had some unexpected interruptions. You don’t mind though, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Stiles said, not sounding defensive, exactly, but definitely not as easy-going as before. He looked over at you and squeezed your hand as he said something about catching up with you later.

You took a deep breath and ran your hand through your hair as Stiles disappeared into the sea of hormonal teenagers. “So-” you stepped closer to Isaac and gave him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Ready to go?”

If Isaac was honest, he’d tell you that the absolute last thing he ever wanted to do was go shopping for a suit that he didn’t want to wear to a dance he didn’t care about, but he couldn’t be honest with you - not about his feelings, and not about this dance - because you were trying.

Isaac wanted to try, too. He really did, but Isaac's problem was that he wasn’t as good as you. Then again no one was as good as you, but still. Isaac had to try or he’d lose you again.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” The closing of Isaac’s locker punctuated his lie better than his smiling grimace ever could.

If you noticed his bad mood - which might have been difficult considering how Isaac was almost always in a bad mood these days - you were nice enough not to mention it as the two of you made your way through the school to the parking lot. Instead, you told him more about your classes and how Greenberg did, in fact, walk into a locker earlier that day.

There was an anxious lilt to your voice as you talked about your English paper that Isaac didn’t recognize. Sure, he’d seen you be nervous before tests and that first day in the hallway, but this was different. That had been unsure while this was second-guessing. That had been butterflies, and this was a sinking feeling.

Isaac couldn’t wrap his head around what could have been making you anxious. You were happy about your grades, you’d been excited about your parents leaving you home alone so they could check on Alex for the weekend, and you had Stiles. With all that, plus the dance coming up, you shouldn’t have been anxious.

And yet there you were, mumbling curse words under your breath when people cut you off on the road and hiding a frown behind a tight smile as you pulled into a parking space.

You killed the engine and sighed as you turned to Isaac. “Hey, so I’ve gotta tell you something about Stiles-”

“Why are we outside a thrift store?” Isaac asked as he peered through the windscreen.

The store was cute. Bright sunflowers painted next to yellow letters that swirled together to spell ‘Anne’s Next to New Clothing and Trinkets.’ A white table with a flower arrangement and some of the aforementioned trinkets. Through the window, Isaac could make out a little girl trying on about a dozen necklaces while her dad apologized to the person behind the counter. Cute, but it didn’t make sense.

Isaac turned to look at you when he realized that he’d interrupted you and you probably thought he was the most self-absorbed idiot in the world. You were staring at him with wide eyes as if to prove his point.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“No, don’t be sorry.” Your surprise melted into a nervous laugh and you dropped your gaze for a moment. When you looked back at him, your smile had softened into something smaller, something more genuine. “Since our mall trip ended so badly, I thought we could try something else.”

Isaac gave you a lazy smile and nodded his head to the store. “Something next to new?”

You scrunched up your face and groaned, putting your face in your hands. “Ugh, this was a dumb idea, wasn’t it? We can leave. Give me a sec to pull out-”

“No. No, that’s not what I meant-” Isaac reached over to grab your hands before he realized what he was doing. With one touch, it was like you erased the entire world that existed outside your car. It was just you, Isaac, and a whole bunch of electricity. “I just meant,” he said quietly, “that it was really nice of you to do this for me. I’m not really used to people doing nice things for me.”

“Well, get used to it because I’m not going anywhere,” you told him. Your words were quiet but your smile was playful. “Come on.” You tilted your head to the door and pulled away.

Isaac tried to get his heart to beat normally again as your door clicked open and thumped close behind you. He took two deep, steady breaths, then shook his head and met you at the front of your car.

You rocked back and forth on your heels as you waited for him. With a nervous smile, you led Isaac inside. The bell chimed as you opened the door, ringing in Isaac’s head as you greeted the cashier, and Isaac went on the awkward defensive again. He ran his hands along the swaths of fabric as the two of you made your way through the store. Felt, polyester, cotton, and wool greeted his fingertips until Isaac stopped in the formalwear section.

Old dresses mixed with a bizarre assortment of wedding attire and four suits, two with three pieces and each a different color to the last. Isaac took his eyes off the suits to find you trying to hide your glances at him. Isaac didn’t bother to hide his amusement at your secrecy.

“What?” You laughed when you caught Isaac waiting for you to steal another look at him. You tucked some hair behind your ear without thinking about it.

Isaac smiled, stifling another laugh. “I didn’t say anything.”

“No, but you want to.” You looked at Isaac with an expression he couldn’t place. Friendly, playful, but just as he tried putting a better word to it, you looked away. Turning your attention to a gray suit, you waved Isaac over. “What do you think of this one?”

Isaac sighed as he made his way over and tilted his head to get a better look at the suit. “I mean, it’s not terrible,” Isaac said, running his hands up the lapel.

You laughed and bumped your arm into Isaac’s. “Well, high praise for this one aside,” you teased, “maybe we should find something a notch above ‘not terrible’ for the big night.”

“Whatever you say,” Isaac said with a smile. The one suit was a baby blue, which instantly struck it out of Isaac’s book and left him with two black options. Boring, yes, but that’s what made them safe.

Nevertheless, you ushered Isaac into the changing room with his two boring suits and made him promise to take his time so you could try and pick something out for yourself. The thought of you waiting for him made Isaac’s stomach lurch, but he still promised to give each suit a fair chance.

The first suit was a slightly snug; not awful looking, but not the most comfortable. If Isaac was going to be wearing this thing all night in a crowd full of sweaty teenagers, then he was going to need something with a little more breathing room for his inevitable panic attack.

So, shoving away the thoughts of how ridiculous this whole thing was, Isaac changed into the other suit. The button-up was missing a few buttons but he could sew new ones with minimal effort. It fit better than the other one had and didn’t cut off his air supply. Plus, the waistcoat somehow made him look less like a scrawny kid playing dress-up and more like someone who actually had it together.

Looking at himself in this suit, Isaac could imagine himself as the kind of guy you’d have feelings for. Not a guy like Stiles because that would make him throw up, but someone charming. Maybe even eloquent. The kind of guy that didn’t live in his older brother’s shadow or own three different copies of Persuasion (one was a library book he forgot to return, one had been his mom’s, and the other just had a nicer cover than the rest).

In this suit, Isaac had a nicer cover than he usually did.

Realizing that he’d probably spent like five minutes just staring at himself and twisting one of the broken buttons, Isaac raced to get changed. He threw the suit to the side and jumped into his jeans and pulled on his baggy gray t-shirt. Isaac was in the process of pulling on his hoodie and forcing the suit back onto its hanger when he stepped out of the changing room and almost knocked you off your feet.

Reflexively, Isaac grabbed you to keep you from falling over. He stammered out several apologies as his heart exploded, but all you did was laugh.

“It’s okay, promise,” you said with a smile. You held onto Isaac as you got back to your feet. After several seconds of awkward silence, you asked, “So did either of them come out ‘not terrible?’”

“Uh, yeah.” Isaac held out the crumpled suit to you. “This one’s not so bad.”

“Not so bad,” you echoed, taking the suit from Isaac and smoothing it out. “We’ll take it!”

Isaac couldn’t help but laugh. You were adorable and very, very far out of his league. Still, he hung up the rejected suit and met you at the counter to pay.

He was so preoccupied with thoughts of accidentally injuring you that he didn’t notice that you’d already bought something. When Isaac asked about it over celebratory frozen yogurt, all you said was that you needed something for the dance, too.

---

Isaac had never been someone with high hopes. He’d given up on anticipating the future ever since he was thrown into a grave and turned into a werewolf; but, still, he found himself with some very unrealistic expectations of how the dance would go. Chief of which being that you’d ditch Stiles and confess your undying love to Isaac.

Actually, not ‘undying’ love because the universe might take that as a sign to make you immortal or something, and that kind of information wasn’t something Isaac thought he could recover from.

His other expectations, supernatural dilemma aside, were to get through the night without bleeding and to, maybe, hopefully, get to dance with you before leaving early.

Two very simple hopes that went unfilled.

First, Stiles was an asshole and hung around you the whole night. His presence made it impossible for Isaac to talk to you about anything other than the decorations and, if that wasn’t annoying enough, Stiles barely even looked at you. You didn’t mind and Erica didn’t even seem to notice his staring, but Isaac noticed. Isaac minded.

Seeing as it was unlikely that any declaration of love, undying or not, was going to made with Stiles Fucking Stilinski jumping around like a kid on a sugar high, Isaac excused himself to get something to drink and maybe punch a wall. You seemed disappointed - not at the wall punching, because Isaac didn’t mention that, but at his leaving. Still, you let him go with a smile nonetheless.

Isaac smiled, too. It felt like all he’d been doing the whole night was smiling, even when you gave him your sympathies about Erica not being his date. He was going to explain everything to you right then and there when Stiles had shown up with his stupid hair and frustrating jokes.

The punch had a sharp, bitter taste that wasn’t there at the beginning of the night and Isaac pulled a face. His dislike of alcohol wasn’t because he was worried about getting drunk (his supernatural metabolism made sure that was never a possibility), but because he just didn’t like the taste. Thanks to his dad, he’d been around the stuff long enough for it to lose its appeal.

Dumping his glass in a potted plant, Isaac turned back to survey the gym. He’d just spotted you in the crowd when Erica and Boyd materialized on either side of him. Erica grabbed his now empty cup and threw it to the side.

“Hey!” Isaac whined.

“We have to go,” she said in her black and blue voice. “Derek needs us.”

Of course, he did. Heaven forbid Isaac had one night free from Hale drama. “Right now?”

“Right now,” Boyd repeated. “The hunters are making their move and Derek says there’s another wolf pack. He can’t take them all by himself. Sorry, man.”

Erica put her hands on Isaac’s shoulders and steered him towards the dance floor. “So go tell your sweetheart that there’s a family emergency and meet us outside, okay?” She shoved him into the floor before Isaac had the chance to argue.

Isaac wasn’t sure where you came from, but you caught him before he landed on his ass, at least. Your face was full of concern as you helped Isaac stand back up and asked what was going on.

Casting a look over his shoulder, Isaac couldn’t find Erica or Boyd. They were already on the move and Isaac didn’t have time to explain everything. “I’ve gotta go,” Isaac interrupted you. He let out a breath as he turned back to you. Then, with a painful smile, he added, “Family emergency.”

“Oh,” you said. You blinked hard as you thought of something else to say. “Do you need a ride?”

“No, Erica and Boyd are already outside,” Isaac said. It was hard for him to focus on you over the sound of the music and his beating heart. “I, uh- I’ve had a lot of fun with you these past few weeks. Thanks.”

You nodded, looking down at your intertwined hands for a second. You gave his hands a squeeze. “Me too,” you said. “I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Monday,” Isaac lied with a bittersweet smile. He decided, since he was most likely going to be killed in the woods in seventeen minutes anyway, to do something that he’d never dreamed possible.

Letting go of your hands, Isaac stepped forward and kissed your cheek. He disappeared before you had the chance to say anything.

If the night had ended there, it wouldn’t have mattered much that none of Isaac’s hopes had been met because at least he’d gotten to kiss your cheek. The problem was that, like most nights, it didn’t end when Isaac wanted it to.

The night kept going, and Isaac got shot with arrows and electrocuted with arrows and mauled by some out of control werewolves. He’d lost Erica and Boyd somewhere in the chaos and he’d never even found Derek to begin with. The night kept going, and Isaac was bloody and alone.

He couldn’t go back to the loft, purely because he wasn’t strong enough to make it there. He had no idea where the root cellar was. The night kept going, and Isaac was bleeding out with nowhere to turn.

Still, he ran.

Isaac had survived so much in his short time on this goddamn bitch of an earth, and he wasn’t about to give up because his spleen had ruptured or because he had no idea where he was. No, Isaac ran because - despite everything - he wanted to live.

He ran and ran until he eventually found something familiar. Unluckily, it wasn’t the hospital or the animal clinic but your house. Isaac would have kept running if he thought his leg could make it, but he knew they couldn’t.

So, Isaac made the agonizing journey up to your front door. He rang the bell. You’d just opened the door, and all Isaac managed to get out was: “I didn’t know where else to go.”

And then he collapsed.

Part 5

Tagged: @lettherebelovex @britty443 @ietss @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @chocolate-raspberries @jellybelly-jones @f1nal-g1rl

#i watch teen wolf for the plot #teen wolf #(un)requited #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey fanfiction

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kyber-kisses · 4 years

Text

Southern Nights (2/4)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: all of the feels, and fluff. Dean being the softest boi

Summary: After a situation with the BMoL, Dean finds himself running towards the person he fears for the most besides his brother. But even when he finds her safe and alive, he can see that something isnt right.

a/n: Ahhh so you know how i said it would be two parts? I lied. Its gonna be four. Anyways I hope you enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated.

Part 1

You had been uncommonly quiet.

Throughout the day Dean had continued to watch you closely, like he could somehow piece together what was going on with you just by watching. Even after they had packed it all in for the night, you remained much more quiet than normal as you moved around the kitchen to make dinner. Every once and awhile you would hum along to a tune on the radio but that was about it.

“You okay, Dean?”

The hunter sat up straight at the sound of his name on your lips, his arms folded over the kitchen island. “Me?”

“. . .Yeah?” You paused cutting up an onion to look at him. “Who else would I be talking to named Dean?”

He swallowed before quickly nodding. “Yeah, yeah im fine. Why do you ask?”

Shrugging you went back to work, the sound of the knife hitting the cutting block muffling radio momentarily. “You've just seemed quiet that's all.”

“Me? You're the one that's been quiet all of today!”

You looked up from your work once more, eyebrows raised at Dean as you slid the contents off the block and into a pan. “I haven't been quiet. Ive talked to you and Sam today-”

“No that's not-” letting a hand slide down his face he stood up, walking around the island towards you. “I'm just saying, you haven't been as talkative as you usually are. You haven't cracked a single joke today. Not one.”

“I'm sorry?” you tired, not really seeing where Dean was going with this.

“You're always cracking jokes and making lighthearted comments. You haven't done that at all. Whats going on?”

“Why do you think somethings going on if im not telling jokes?” You laughed lightly, reaching around him for a pepper.

“Um- because that's who you are? energetic, lively, funny Y/N.”

“Well I’m sorry, I was a little busy helping you and Sam find your missing mother.” You began, your knife going through the pepper with much more force than needed as you began dicing.

“I just want to know if your okay, that nothings bothering you-“

“Dean, I am Fi--” Your words were stopped short as you yelped, knife dropping to the block as you drew your hand back. “Fuck-” sure enough you had managed to cut yourself, the blood leaving the slice in your finger to run down your wrist.

“Jeez, Y/N-” Dean was in action before you could stop him, moving forward to gently guide you towards the sink. “This might sting for a sec.” Flipping on the faucet he let your put your hand under the flow of water.

“Ive been through much worse, Dee. I think ill live.”

“Im sorry, this was my fault.” Dean sighed, inspecting the slice in your finger.

“Last time I checked I was the one wielding the kitchen knife.”

“I know- but I-” You pressed a finger to his lips, shaking your head. “Don’t. If you wanna really help me you can grab the first aid kit that's in the cupboard.” You nodded your head in the direction you were talking about. “Got it?”

“Mmmhmm.”

Lowering your hand you gave him a soft smile. Why was he always doing that? Blaming himself for no apparent reason. Putting your hand back under the faucet you focused back on the cut until Dean was back at your side.

“Will you at least let me patch you up? To make up for pestering you?” He tried, clicking open the lid and rummaging through it for bandages.

You let out a dramatic sigh before sitting yourself down on the kitchen island. “I guess . . .i mean, it is very hard to say no to that face.”

that got a chuckle out of the hunter before he slotted himself between your legs and carefully taking your cut hand in his to inspect. “I know, I'm a goddamn gift aren't I?”

“Oh, I wouldn't go that far.” You smiled, using your free hand to prop you up as you watched him disinfect and wrap the cut. Every once and awhile Dean would look up from his work, eyes finding yours before giving you an almost timid smile.

Bastard. He really had to stop doing that if the two of you were going to try to continue only being friends. You could hear the little voice in your head screaming arms length away! Arms length away!

At that same moment one Sam Winchester came walking back into the room, hair still wet from his recent shower. At the sight of the first aid kit and the scattered materials he paused on the other side of the island.

“What the hell happened?”

“You're brother stabbed me.” You stated bluntly, sliding back off the granite counter and bumping your chest against Deans as you did. Weasling past him you gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“hey, no I didn't!”

“That’s exactly what a person who just stabbed someone would say.”

“Why you little--” You cut him off yet again, this time handing over the kitchen knife to him with an amused grin. For a moment Dean could see the normal you again, and he couldn't help but smile back.

But something was still there. He could see it under your smile and the glint in your eyes.

“You goin somewhere?”

“Uh, yeah. I called dibs on the shower next. You two can finish up dinner.” Backtracking away you gave them both a wink before disappearing around the corner. Once you had vanished Dean let the facade drop before whirling around to look at his brother.

“What?”

Dean waited another second, making sure you were out of earshot before planting his palms firmly on the island. “Alright, tell me if I’m crazy— but Y/Ns acting a little off isn't she?”

“Off in what way?”

“Off in like- she’s not her usually energetic let’s go kill some monsters attitude.”

“I mean. . .maybe?” The younger Winchester shrugged, not quite understanding what his brother was getting at. “She did say she was spending the week resting up after that rugaru Hunt. She’s probably a little drained from that.”

Dean ran his palms down his face, “yeah, but think about it. Jody said she had been here for almost five weeks. Five, Sam! Five! When have we ever known Y/N to stay in one place for that long? Hell, even during thanksgiving last year she only stayed a few days before running off towards another case.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Dean. Maybe if you’re so worried about her just try talking to her?”

Dean sent his brother another glare. “Have you not seen me trying to do that all day? She just keeps acting like she’s fine- and I know for a fact that she is not.”

Shaking his head in defeat, Sam moved past his brother to continue making dinner. “She loves you Dean. Anyone can see it, and I know you can too. She’ll open up as long as you actually try. And if you love her, you will.”

* * * *

Thankfully Dinner had been more lively than the rest of the day. And for awhile you actually had managed to almost convince Dean you were fine. The three of you spending a good few hours seated at the kitchen table and reminiscing about days gone past. You were cracking jokes again, and laughing at his. From across the table Dean would watch as the corners of your eyes would crinkle and you would double over in laughter. If he could he would stay in this moment forever. One where you all were happy and full of energy.

and then that perfect little image had to fade.

It was almost like you ran out of steam or something because your laughter slowly pattered out and it was like watching you cave in on yourself. You became quiet again, losing yourself in thought as you washed the dishes. Dean couldn't stop himself from glancing over at you each time you passed him a plate or dish to dry. That dullness behind your eyes. Leaning backwards, he made eye contact with his brother. The younger Winchester slowly beginning to see what he was talking about.

“You know what, I can finish up here Y/N. You've already done so much for us.” Sam pipped up, putting a reassuring hand on your back.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Raising your hands in surrender you backed away from the sink. “Well then go for it I guess.” You sighed. “Ill be on the porch if you need me.” retreating from the kitchen once more, you paused at the threshold. “Dean, you comin?”

“Oh, uh- yeah. Yeah ill be out in a sec. Im gonna help Sam finish up.” Dean quickly stuttered. He watched as you gave him a puzzled look before walking away. Not a second later a soapy hand smacked the back of his head.

“Why'd you do that? That was probably the perfect time to talk to her.”

“I. . .Panicked?”

“You-” Sam paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You panicked? Since when do you panic around Y/N?”

“I don't know! Sue me!” Dean whisper snapped, rubbing the suds off the back of his head from where his brother had smacked him.

There was another round of silence before a grin slowly spread across Sam's face as he watched his brother. “God, you are so in love with her aren't you?”

“Shut up.”

“Its cute.”

“Dammit Sammy, I said shut up.” Dean growled, wiping his hands off with a towel before throwing it on the counter and walking out of the kitchen and in the direction you had gone.

Dean was expecting to have to search for you, but it only took two steps out the front door to find you. Between the string of yellowish porch lights and the yard lights in the planter boxes you were easy to find. The sun had set hours ago, but the night air was still warm, and the stars were brighter than usual. You were stretched out in the grass, drowning in the sea of life around you as blades of grass tickled the soles of your feet. You were fiddling with the dials of your old radio when you heard the bang of the screen door, looking up.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Sam again?”

“. . .Yeah.” Dean sighed, making his way down the steps before stopping and sitting on the last one. “But its nothing. You dont need to worry.”

“I always worry.”

“I know.’ He paused, watching as you sat up and swung your body around to face him. “You must really like it here.”

You shrugged, setting the radio down in the grass as some oldies playlist softly fell through the speakers. “Yeah. Its quiet here. Unlike every sketchy motel in America.”

“Yeah. You’re right about that.” He lightly chuckled, pausing only for a moment when you got up and moved to sit down next to him, hands wrapped around your knees.

The two of you sat like that for awhile, letting a comfortable silcen fall between you. No words spoken. Just easy silence. During that time it felt like the world had stopped. The only sound being the soft hum of the radio next to you and the even softer drone of katydids and crickets that seemed to come from everywhere. At some point a yellow tabby cat slunk across the grass just beyond reach of the porch lights, jumping up to swat at a lightning bug.

After a few minutes you spoke up again, your voice soft. “Thats another thing I like about you.”

“What?”

“Your a good person to sit with. You always offer silent comfort when needed. Sometimes before I realize I even need it.”

A small smile fell across his lips as he turned his head to look at you, surprised to find you already looking back. You were much closer than he originally realized, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. You could feel his breath fan across your lips when he exhaled.

God, you were so close- so fucking close. The temptation to close the remainder of the gap between you had Deans heart doing barrel rolls. It was like some silence dance between the two of you, both set of eyes meeting before focusing on lips- and then back up to eyes.

And then the moment was severed when you pulled back, shaking it off.

Dean sucked in a breath after watching you for another moment. “You gonna really tell me what’s going on with you?” He finally spoke, making sure to keep his voice soft as yours, afraid to disturb the serenity laid out in front of you.Somewhere in the distance a dog barked.

“Does it really matter?”

“Yes. Because I’m worried and can see that you aren’t your usual self.”

You didn’t make eye contact, instead you kept your gaze on the tabby stalking through the grass. Why were you so afraid to say it out loud? It had been gnawing at you for days now but actually saying it? And to Dean no less?

“Dean, I think I’m gonna quit hunting.”

SPN Taglist (Still open!)

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler @heyyy-hey-babyyy @supernaturalenchanted@emptycanvasposts @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue @lilulo-12fanfiction @beanie-beebo @xoxoaudreymarie @greenarrowhead @mrsjenniferwinchester @mysticalfuncollectorus @brebolin @biahblue @noahandthegiraffe @hhiggs

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot #dean fluff #spn x reader #SPN #bi-danvers writing

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astroninaaa · 3 years

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i have been reading fics again - a hazard to society, i know - and i would love your opinion on something: let’s say, theoretically, you took c!tubbo out of the plot (e.g running away or smth) after the festival. what would be different?

- msfrn

msfrn i saw this today when i checked my notifs briefly like 12 hours ago and i have thought about this all day you have no idea. i'm adding a read more i have so much to say

/rp

taking tubbo out, specially from an event that happened so early in the story like that (i knowww it's not THAT early but it's still early so much stuff happened after that come on), would literally, in my opinion, change the entire course of the smp.

i have thought about this from a very specific point but i'm gonna elaborate on that point in a bit. for one, i think there's 4 ways tubbo could've been taken out of the plot after the festival:

1. tubbo runs away with tommy

2. tubbo leaves without anyone knowing

3. tubbo runs away and tommy stays, but tommy is aware of it (the one i'll be elaborating on!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

4. tubbo just straight up fucking dies. the life he lost at the festival was his last one. bye bye bee boy.

for number 1: that would change,,,,,, so much. like. would pogtopia even win the war? who would've become the president? would l'manburg survive without them? everything would go so terribly wrong. i don't think this would happen though because i don't believe tommy would give up on the discs like that, and tommy didn't have the discs immediately after the festival. there could maybe be a plotline where tommy comes back from the discs but mmmmmm i don't think tubbo would want to be involved in that unless he really needed to. so no

for number 2: very unlikely as well. if tubbo left on his own accord i doubt he'd do it without telling tommy first. if he did tommy would definitely also leave to look for him, and that would also affect the war and get us to the same questions from the previous option. another possibility for this would be tubbo just being exiled somehow but that wouldn't make sense in that point of the story, so no.

number 3: that's the one i'm gonna elaborate on so give me a sec <3

number 4: pogtopia would crumble. tommy would never forgive neither techno nor wilbur. i believe tommy would leave pogtopia (not necessarily join manburg, just maybe create a third independent party or smth idk), and that would mean quackity would probably never join them. on another note, it mightve made more people turn against manburg, so who knows.

anyways. now we get to what i want to talk about. to the thing ive been thinking about. okay

if tubbo just fucking left. because he wanted to. if he decided yeah this is too much i'm gonna fuck off into the woods or something. tommy bye bye! please don't come look for me. i don't want to be involved in any of this anymore, i just want to vibe. and then fucking left to live in a village somewhere far away from everyone, and never came back, and everyone just vibed with that? this is what i'm going off. that's the option i'm working with, okay? okay

considering pogtopia goes in the same way. considering pogtopia still wins the war. tommy is made president. tommy makes wilbur president. wilbur makes who president?

either fundy or niki, i think. that's the first big change. i bet more on fundy, honestly, so i'm gonna use that, but anyway. fundy is president. wilbur blows everything up. for one, rebuilding wouldve taken a lot longer, because tubbo was responsible for so much of rebuilding. so. crater country a bit early in the story <3 but that could also be a starting point for some poetic lore with wilbur's crater and the country trying to thrive around or inside it- which is cool.

let's say everything still goes the same. tommy commits a bit of arson with new guy ranboo. dream wants him to get exiled.

fundy wouldn't. i don't think any other character would've taken the decision tubbo did with that, because no other character is as rational as tubbo. which means there would probably be another war really early on, with dream building up the obsidian walls and just. a lot of fighting really. he might not even take them off for the first time like he did in the original story, bc i don't believe they couldve gotten to the beginnings of a compromise like they did without tubbo.

philza would probably find a way to leave to go and live with techno. everyone still in l'manburg would turn on fundy for letting this happen. maybe they would even take one of his canon lives. the l'manburg people would maybe try to fight back and one thing i can see happening is sapnap turning against dream and joining the people in l'manburg- since quackity would also probably be hurt by dream in this scenario. characters like puffy and ranboo would've been forced into war without actually believing in the cause, because 1. puffy hasn't been there long enough to care for l'manburg or for the citizens within it 2. the only thing that actually made ranboo care for l'manburg was his relations to tubbo, and tubbo isn't there.

tubbo not being there changes everything from plot points (because a lot of things wouldve never happened without him) to character dynamics. maybe tommy and ranboo wouldve been closer, then, since tommy wouldn't have been exiled, but maybe ranboo's lack of attachment to l'manburg would push them so far apart that they would barely consider each other friends. would philza still be around enough to become friends with ranboo and bring him into the arctic? would ranboo ever meet technoblade? would quackity ever build el rapids and later on las nevadas, would he even leave l'manburg without tubbo being there to take care of it?

would fundy crumble under the weight of it all? even if it wasn't him, if it was any other character, would they be able to carry l'manburg the way tubbo did? i honestly don't think so. would them be easier to manipulate than tubbo was, easier to convince? would them be less careful, less overprepared, less smart?

jack manifold would have nowhere to go. he would probably never even hate tommy, they'd fight side by side. when l'manburg eventually gets destroyed in this hipothetical war with dream, he has no one to invite him to snowchester. there's no snowchester.

basically- i think everything would've gone in a very, very different way. if it would've been better or not,,,,, is a whole another discussion, but it definitely would've been different lmao!!!!!!

do i want to write about tubbo vibing at a village in the middle of nowhere now? maybe. maybe i do

#msfrn anon #dsmp au #dsmp meta #kinda #dream smp #tubbo #c!tubbo #long post lmao #i love this idea actually #everyone should send me au ideas so i can elaborate on them <3

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cassyapper · 3 years

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ive sputtered about this on twitter before that’s gone now so i get to do it again anyway jotaro and kakyoin featuring proposal. just bear with me here this got kinda long

post-part-6-but-happy-ending-au kakyoin wakes up in hospital after the fight and he wasnt injured too badly all things considered. by that i mean he manages to shuffle his way to wherever jotaro is cause he just needs the assurance he’s alive cause th last thing he saw before blacking out earlier was jotaro’s face almost getting cleaved in half. once he sees nd hears the heart monitor and jotaro’s chest rising and falling he kinda slumps into the chair next 2 the bed and goes to bed. obviously he gets scolded by doctors when a nurse comes by doing rounds and finds kak in jotaro’s room but kak refuses to budge from the room so the docs are like “FINE” and they both get moved to a double room

kak just kinda fades in and out of consciousness while he waits for jotaro to wake up. while he’s waiting tho jolyne and emporio come visit. jolyne confirms everyone’s okay and hermes is getting fitted for arm prosthetics and kakyoin brings up avdol cause he had a similar procedure done. basically he’s reassuring jolyne it’ll go well. she appreciates it. then they both just kinda stare at jotaro for a sec. jolyne asks kakyoin if he thinks he’ll be okay and kakyoin is like hmm. probably. just cant let him out of our sight anymore. jolyne laughs but it’s tired. kakyoin tells her to go rest so she heads out w emporio

a couple hours after jolyne leaves kakyoin wakes up to jotaro’s heart monitor picking up. kakyoin only just gets his bearings when jotaro shoots forward gasping “jolyne”

kak immediately gets up and sits next to jotaro and helps him calm down. he takes his hand while doing this. basically “jolyne’s okay” “kakyoin?” “im here” jotaro blinks at kak w his only visible eye (the other’s buried under bandages) before his heart monitor starts 2 slow again and he slumps a bit

kak asks how he is and jotaro just grimaces which kak laughs a little at like “that’s understandable” jotaro grumbles that’s he’s getting old and kak is like “rather u old than dead” jotaro hums thoughtfully and neither speak for a second

anyway kak is Also getting old and he’s tired of beating around the bush and frankly with all he and jotaro have gone through there’s no way unrequited feelings will get inbetween them so he’s like “jotaro i am in love w u” with no warning

jotaro’s like “HUH?” and kak kinda elaborates cause why Not lay his heart bare the world almost ended

jotaro’s like stammering for a good minute before he’s like “u. i. u. me too” “what” “you. i. .” jotaro sighs but he’s always been more a man of action than a man of word so he takes kak’s hand which is still holding his and kisses it. kak is like “oh” and he cant bite back his smile

so basically they confess finally after (does the math) 23 years. god. then after they both get discharged from the hospital they go to a beach cause jotaro and kakyoin’s nerves are FRAYED and what else is more calming for old ppl than just sitting outside together. so they do that at a beach

anyway it’s nice and theyre there all day. jotaro pokes fun at the sunburn kak has on his nose and kak just throws sand at his face (star plat blocks it). when it’s dusk jotaro’s talking abt how some fish creep up the water column at night to hunt and kak is just smiling so softly at him before “marry me” just drops from his lips. completely unthinkingly but like it’s sincere

both freak out for a bit like “HUH” “HUH? I. I DONT KNOW WHY I SAID THAT. SORRY THAT WAS KINDA INTENSE” “I MENA. I MEAN. I MEAN” “WHAT???” “I. I!!!! GOD. KAKYOIN” “STOP WHAT DO YOU MEAN” “I MEAN!!!!!!!”

and jotaro just shakes his head before kissing kak. they break apart and kak is like “uHh” all dazed and jotaro just rolls his eyes good naturedly like “ur acting like an excited teenager” “shut the HELL UP kujo” “kujo-kakyoin to you” “SO DID YOU- DO YOU REALLY??? WANNA?? MARRY ME???”

and jotaro is like “iiII I MEAN LIKE WHY NOT WE’RE??? WE’RE CLEARLY IN THIS FOR THE LONG HAUL IF OUR ENTIRE HISTORY IS SOMETHING TO GO BY. WE’VE ALREADY GONE THROUGH THINGS TOGETHER MOST MARRIED COUPLES DONT AND WE STILL STUCK TOGETHER” “I. YEAH GUESS”

so there’s that. kakyoin doesnt have a ring to give jotaro cause even he didnt know he was gonna do this that night but it’s ok cause then they go ring shopping the next day and they both take the other out on cute little dates wherein they give each other their rings (like jotaro takes kak on a museum date and gives him his ring there, and kak takes jotaro on a boat for a couple of days wherein he gives HIM his ring)

uh yeah.

#stupid sappy old gay men in my HEAD!!!#cass cries #jjba #stone ocean spoilers #jojo spoilers

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ussjellyfish · 3 years

Text

fic: the brink | philinda | agents of SHIELD | mature

Sex pollen, pon farr... May has to have sex or she’ll die, and Bobbi and Hunter are willing, but Phil has some pesky feelings about that idea.

Total crackfic. Many thanks to @unrequited-ship for helping!

read on ao3

Sweat runs down her neck, down her spine. The temperature in the quinjet is relatively normal, even a little cold because night's fallen. She sits, watching her fingertips tremble and glow with whatever that golden dust is. She didn't even touch the oh-eight-four, that's what makes it so frustrating. She brushed against it, through her jacket but whatever it is, this contagion is crawling up her fingers, sparkling down her veins towards her heart.

Can't wear the jacket now, too hot.

"May?" Phil passes her the bottle of water, hovering. His tongue flashes pink as he licks his lips and all she can think about is how that tongue will feel on her skin. He should kiss her, then lick his way down her neck.

Bobbi releases her arm from the blood pressure cuff, shaking her head. "Pulse is way too fast, blood pressure's up ten points from earlier."

"So I'm having a heart attack?" Melinda shouldn't joke. All their faces are far too serious in a huddle around her, but that means she has to tease them. She's dying unless they can figure out what this is.

"Not yet." Bobbi sighs, glancing at the dark control panel. "Simmons would have a better answer."

"We don't have Simmons, Bob," Hunter reminds them. King of stating the obvious. "We've got you and the rest of us who are much better at shooting things than science. No offense, sir."

Phil holds up a hand. "It's fine. Biology is definitely not my strongest subject. History, I can do a little better, but it's hard without power or internet."

"That EMP was pretty intense. The quinjet is fried. We either get rescued by the team or we hike out to the nearest road."

May shuts her eyes instead of focusing on how attractive the curve of Bobbi's neck is. The way her hair's up in a ponytail leaves her skin exposed and she's so beautiful. She could rip off that shirt and show her a very good time.

She's not, this isn't, but even Hunter looks not like his normal absolutely unattractive self and something is wrong if she's fantasizing about his hand stupid hand touching her knee.

Shake it off.

Don't have a heart attack.

Simple. Don't die.

"What did the stones around the oh-eight-four say?"

Phil opens up his notebook, checking his notes. "My translation is questionable without the database but I'd guess 'blood fever'. Something in the oh-eight-four causes a medical condition that's resolved through the ceremony."

"The ceremony meaning the orgy thing we saw in those statues? Because I'm not an anthropologist but I totally got that one."

Melinda leans back. The fuzzy sort of ache behind her eyes has built into a pounding that echoes her too fast heartbeat. "My head hurts."

Bobbi touches her temples, fingers light and caring.

If she says her thighs hurt will she...? Dammit. Concentrate. Think about anything but the warmth of Bobbi's skin and how close she is. She could just--

"Hey, her heartrate got better when you touched her, just for a minute," Hunter pipes up.

"Really?" Bobbi pulls her hands away and backs up and it's as if Melinda's been doused in flame. Without Bobbi (anyone really) close to her her skin's on fire again.

"Go back," Phil says, watching the monitors in the emergency medkit. "Touch her face."

Melinda can do better than that, so she grabs Bobbi and pulls her close, dragging her head down from the clouds to kiss her. This is right, this is what she's supposed to be doing, kissing, pressing their bodies together, feeling her tongue.

"Bugger me," Hunter whispers, staring with his mouth wide open.

"May?" Bobbi says as she catches her breath. "Are you okay?"

"I needed too--"

"Look at her vitals," Bobbi says, staring at the lines that are back into the green, for the moment. "Kissing me brought them all back down, even her temperature."

"So that was it?"

"No, they're getting worse," Phil says. Is he blushing? What's wrong with his face?

"The sparkles are getting worse too."

"Sparkles?"

"Look at her hands, her arms." Hunter touches her arm, turning it over so they can see the golden sparkles work their way up her skin. "They faded a bit when she pounced on Bob, but they're coming back."

Melinda shivers when he touches her, moving closer.

"Fuck."

"She finds me attractive," Hunter says, hands up. "That's not, I mean, I am, but not to May--"

"Okay, so it's some kind of libido enhancing oh-eight-four, maybe it was used in fertility rituals."

"Fuck or die?"

"It might be having a different effect on her, it's been hundreds of years, at least since anyone has touched that artifact."

"Her vitals are worse again."

"My vision's getting blurry." Melinda waves her hand in front of her own eyes. "Kind of gold?"

"The sparkles are on your face, in your eyes."

If Hunter's going to lean that close, she's going to kiss him.

Phil grabs her hand, and squeezes it. "We'll figure it out."

"I don't think we have much time." Bobbi looks at her vitals again, then crouches down to look at Melinda's eyes.

"What can we try?" Phil says.

She traces her thumb across his knuckles, and her entire being only cares about the touch of his skin to hers.

"You're so warm." He releases her hand and she hisses. "Your fever's back."

"Those sparkles are getting pretty intense."

Bobbi and Hunter don't even look at each other, but somehow speak in unison.

"We have to have sex with her-"

"May needs a shag-"

"What?" Phil drops his hand from her forehead as if she's burnt him. "You can't--"

"Well, we usually share things," Hunter says, looking down a moment. "It's kind of our thing to do together."

"You and Bobbi are going to have sec with her."

Melinda peels off her boots, then reaches for her sweat-drenched t-shirt. "Great."

Phil's hands stop hers on her shirt. "Wait."

"We can't wait, Sir. It's amazing she hasn't had a heart attack already, or a stroke. If we don't do something to stop it, whatever this is, she'll die."

"Phil it's fine, Bobbi and Hunter are--" the hottest people she's ever seen right now in the moment and she shivers at the thought of touching them.

"It's not fine--"

"It's just a little threesome, Sir, it's hardly our first."

"May?"

"Yes." She takes off her shirt, startling all of them as she stands up in her black bra. The sparkles have overtaken most of her skin, and they move within her skin, forming rivers down her belly. "I want them."

"Yeah, I get that."

Bobbi and Hunter look at each other and start taking off their jackets and tac vests. Is Phil going to stay and watch? Is he going to join them?

Melinda looks at him, meeting his eyes, and with the clarity of fever dreams, she sees it. He wants her. That apprehension? He's jealous.

Phil Coulson wants her.

Of course she wants him, she wants all living beings right this second, but he looks at Bobbi and Hunter and then at his feet and back at her and--

"Phil?"

"I'll just go look for the road-" he starts, but she stops him, catches his hand. Her fingers close around his robotic wrist and even that's enough for her to start fantasizing about knocking him to the deck and having her way with him.

"You want it to be you."

"I just want you to be all right"

"You're jealous of them."

"To be fair, most people are," Hunter says, but he looks at Bobbi and shrugs. "Coulson and her would work too. Kind of too bad though."

"Whatever we do, she needs to have sex as soon as possible, waiting could kill her."

Melinda touches Phil's chin, running her finger over his stubble up towards his lips. "What a difficult choice, let me have sex with them or admit you want me."

His eyes widen, and darken, and he feels it, he has to. "May--"

Her heart thuds in her chest, aching, burning, threatening... "Make a choice," she says, resting her hand on his chest. "You step up, or you step out of the way."

"May, you'll die if you don't--"

"I said Bobbi and Hunter are fine-"

Hunter smirks. "We're a little bit better than fine."

"Phil--" She rests both hands on his chest and looks up at him, melting into the idea of kissing him, standing on her tiptoes. "Just fuck me."

Bobbi reminds him to keep the sensors on her temples, they need data. Hunter pats her shoulder and winks at Phil, then they're gone and she has her hands on his belt.

"May--"

She doesn't have much left to tell him to hurry. Her control's sizzling away, burning as the gold sparks start to fill her vision. Tugging him down, she kisses him, hard and deep, nearly bruising her lips in her hurry. It helps, because with his tongue against hers, she can think a little.

"I have to be on the brink of death before you admit you want me?"

Phil takes off his jacket and tosses it aside, then yanks off his t-shirt. "Do you want me to get Bobbi and Hunter back in here?"

"If you're going to be tentative about it."

"Tentative?"

She wraps her arms around his neck and tugs him close. "I might die in the time it'll take you to get me undressed."

Rolling his eyes, he kisses her, hard and demanding and maybe she might ive. His hands find her bra and when she bites his lip, he tugs it off. The rest of their clothing falls away, catching and sweaty skin, falling empty to the cold metal floor. She kisses him and he lifts her up, pressing her against the cold wall of the quinjet, her legs around his waist. He's inside her a moment later, desperately, drunk with worry but finally her heart starts to calm.

Her vision starts to return as he stares into her eyes, filling her, thrusting up and in again and again. They don't have time for foreplay, and her first orgasm rushes up almost as an afterthought. Is she dead?

No, that wasn't a heart attack, though her chest is hot.

"Sir?" Bobbi's voice carries through the door. "Her vitals are better, but they're still--"

"Got it, thanks."

Melinda's feet rest on the deck and she laughs, pulling his hands to her breasts. "Maybe we bought ourselves some time for foreplay."

"I thought you didn't like it to take a long time?"

She tugs him close, her lips brushing his ear. "I just wanted you to touch me, and I hate waiting."

He sits her down on the bench, parting her thighs and rusing his hands up to slip inside of her. He wrenches another orgasm out of her with just his hands, and starts kissing her towards a third before she can even stop panting.

It blurs after that. His skin, her skin, their breath and sweat. She gasps and cries and growls and moans. The sparks are in her and in him and behind her eyes and the last time she orgasms his inside her again, and over her and then she's on his lap, they're legs tangled together.

The air shimmers above them and the gold rises from her skin as if becoming a mist. She sighs into his neck and the pulsing is gone.

"Her vitals are stable," Bobbi says from the door, and there's a roughness to her voice, like she's been running. "We'll have to do some more tests."

"But she's stable?"

"Yes. Good work, Sir."

"Yeah, work, terribly hard work," Hunter teases.

"You thought he was sexy," Phil reminds her as she melts into his chest.

"I would have found any willing adult irresistible in that state."

"I'm flattered," he teases, brushing her damp hair from her forehead. "Glad I could be a warm body."

"You did all right." Her entire body tingles and she can barely move she's so content. "Good effort."

"Thanks."

"You're not going to say it?"

"What?"

"You rose to the occasion."

Phil kisses her forehead and groans. "I should have let you have that threesome."

"You couldn't."

"If that was what you wanted--"

She holds his face, touching his mouth. "I wanted you."

His little smile is worth her brush with death. "Next time--"

"Oh there's a next time?"

Phil kisses her, this time soft and full of affection. "Oh yeah."

"Pretty cocky."

He groans as his fingers tease him and he twitches in her hand. "I might need a little recovery time."

"I think you earned it."

"I just saved your life."

Melinda lays back, her head on his chest beneath the emergency blanket. "You're welcome."

#philinda #sex pollen #orgasms or death #fic: the brink #kind of crack but I had a lot of fun with it #some background may/bobbi

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hellimagines · 4 years

Text

Sunbird (Part Two) -- Jason Todd

*My masterlist link can be found in my blog description*

Summary: Y/N wakes up after the bomb, and after Jason’s return she has to deal with the retaliation.

Warnings: Emo Bruce Wayne, angst

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,500+

Part One

A/N: Me? Disappearing for three weeks after impulsively creating another series? Wild. The beginning is a little rocky, but still, let me know what you think!

~Two weeks following the bomb~

Her whole body felt like it was on fire, flames licking the inside of her veins with each breath she took. However, as Y/N pried her sleep-crusted eyes open, she realized that she wasn’t in pain because of it. It simply just didn’t feel right. She was laid flat on one of the nursing beds in the BatCave, with IV’s in both arms, a tube down her throat, and other medical equipment enclosing her. Unable to lift her arms to properly find the source of the fire or to yell out for anyone, Y/N groaned in pain in hopes of someone hearing her.

Someone did hear her, but it wasn’t someone she was expecting. “Fuck, she’s awake,” Dick cursed, startling out of his chair to press a button on the wall beside her bed. “Hey, don’t move, Alfie’ll be here in a sec’, okay?” Y/N weakly nodded, wincing at the pain that jostled in her throat. Dick hushed her, petting a hand down her face to move away some sweat-slicked strands of hair. She hadn’t seen Dick in nearly a year, which wasn’t uncommon for the detective of Bludhaven, but it felt weird to have him as the first person she saw.

A few moments passed with Dick simply murmuring soft words and trying to keep Y/N from shifting too much as the pain increased. But, soon enough, Alfred and Bruce were both rushing toward them, the former snapping latex gloves onto his hands. “Please keep her steady, Master Dick. This will hurt more if she jerks too much,” Alfred instructed, gently placing the palm of his hand against Y/N’s throat.

Dick did as he was told, holding onto the younger girl’s shoulders to keep her down, while Bruce stood to the side with furrowed brows. “You’re gonna be just fine, Miss Y/N, this’ll be over in a moment,” Alfred hummed, before he was pulling the tube out without warning. Instinctively, Y/N jerked, wanting to fight against the pain in her throat as she yelled out, but Dick kept her from moving. And, as Alfred had said, the tube was gone in only a few seconds, leaving her able to gasp for air while choking and coughing on her own spit. Dick helped her into a sitting position as Alfred fluffed the pillows up, checking her vitals as her hacking calmed down.

Dick’s eyes caught Bruce’s across the bed, silently motioning him to come over, which Bruce began to do. But, he stopped short at the girl’s next words; “Where’s Jason?” she croaked while massaging her throat, before looking up at the older men. “Is he okay?”

Alfred turned his back, busying himself with putting away unneeded medical supplies with shaking hands. Dick looked up at Bruce, pleading for guidance before the older took a step back, shaking his head. “Bruce-” Dick tried, reaching out a hand for the other. Instead, Bruce shook his head and turned, walking away from the others.

“Dick, what happened?” Y/N whispered, dread filling her gut as she felt the tension cover the room like a cloud of smoke. “Please, where’s Jason?”

Dick took a deep breath, “Do you remember what happened?”

“Yeah,” she nodded with heavy breaths, “Joker used me to lure Robin and Batman, but Jason ran in without thinking, got trapped. Then we were tortured, well… Jason got the brunt of it, before… before the bomb went off.”

“Do you know how you survived?” Y/N shook her head. “When you were a baby, Joker wanted to make you like him, as much as possible at least. But Harley drew the line at the chemical vats, electrocution, and all the other stuff they did to themselves. So, when there was that giant Arkham break ten years ago, Joker had grabbed a whole bunch of random shit from the experiment and confiscation rooms,” Dick explained, taking a seat beside her bed.

“How do you know all of this?” Y/N questioned.

“Miss Quinzel stopped by when she heard what had happened. She’s still in hiding, but she thought you had died. I must admit, I feared for Master Bruce’s safety for a moment,” Alfred chuckled, despite the sorrowful look on his face. “She told us everything and explained why you hadn’t.”

“Jason’s dead. Isn’t he? You’re only talking about how or why I survived, not him.”

“Always did rival my detective skills,” Dick huffed, unable to look Y/N in the eyes anymore. “When Bruce got there, Jason… Jason was already dead. You were unconscious on top of him, with your fingers against his neck, checking for a pulse I think.” Memories began to filter into her head, ones her mind had blocked immediately after the bomb. Freeing herself from the charred zip ties, crawling over burning metal and wood, collapsing beside Jason, his lips trying to form her nickname one last time, before feeling his heart stop and his eyes go blank. Y/N’s heart ached at the memory, and she choked on a sob that she refused to let escape.

“And on fire,” Alfred added, grabbing ahold of Y/N’s hand as he watched the despair fall over her face. “Harley didn’t know what exactly Joker did to you when you were younger, he never told her the full extent. But whatever he did, insured your immunity against most things. You still bruise, bleed, and break, but those things are harder to kill you than most people. However, I don’t suppose he expected a bomb to fit into that category. So, while you were still burned and in a coma, you survived and healed within days.”

Y/N looked down at her arm, trying to block out the memories again, and noticed the subtle, red glow beneath her skin. The only scars on her arms were of old cuts, bullets, and other injuries. But not a single burn scar laced her skin. “Why didn’t it leave a scar?”

Dick chuckled at the question, having expected her to ask more about Jason, and closed his eyes briefly. “Fire seems to be your best friend. We had to keep a fire extinguisher and buckets of cold water on standby for the first week because whenever you got hot, your skin would spark and catch fire. That,” he pointed a finger to an abandoned charred bed near the corner of the room, “was your first bed.”

Y/N gave the bed a brief glance, before staring back down at her arm. The feeling in her stomach had yet to go away, now filled with grief she didn’t know how to handle. “Are you… are you sure he’s gone? I could’ve been wrong, maybe his heart only stopped for a second, maybe he’s still alive, I’m sure he’s fine-”

“Y/N,” Alfred whispered, the absence of the ‘Miss’ causing her to stop. “Jason’s dead. We haven’t had his funeral, wanting to wait for you to wake up, but he’s gone,” he said softly, rubbing a calloused thumb over the back of her hand.

“I’m so sorry, kid,” Dick choked, letting his forehead fall against her arm as he squeezed his eyes shut. “He didn’t deserve this.”

She looked between the both of them, tears falling over despite her reluctance. “I-” she began, before pausing and shaking her head. “What if Joker comes looking for me again? What if he comes after all of you next? I can’t lose anyone else, I have to leave.”

Dick shook his head, “It’s already been taken care of. The world thinks Y/N Napier is dead, and that Robin survived. We won’t go public with Jason’s death for a few months to keep shit from hitting the fan. That’s why Harley was here, she thought you had died. Joker even… he even sent Batman a ‘Sorry for your loss’ card.” His voice was dejected, feeling sympathetic for the younger girl on the bed.

“The second I left, he stopped caring about me. I’m not surprised,” she grumbled, wiping her eyes roughly. “Now what? I was only the girl Robin protected, nothing else. With me supposedly dead, and Robin, what do I do?”

“Don’t worry about Robin, we’ll take care of it. But you’re more than just Robin’s ward. You’re smart and strong, there’s plenty for you to do. Whether it’s taking up a mantle, helping out around here, or making a new name for yourself, you’ll find something. We’re not throwing you away, Y/N. You’re family.”

Y/N listened quietly as Dick talked, absentmindedly running her fingers over her arm as he did. Everything Dick and Alfred were telling her was soaking into her like a sponge; the information was there, but she wasn’t able to process much of it. She knew how cruel the world could be, she was the Joker’s daughter after all, but it still wasn’t fair that Jason was taken from her. That she had to live without him, knowing that it was her fault he was dead. Alfred continued checking her wounds and body temperature as Dick filled her in a few more things (such as Bruce’s refusal to take a break and Batman’s wavering moral code), but Y/N could only listen numbly. She had to figure out her next step, and for the first time in a while, she had to figure it out without Jason by her side.

It took nearly a year for Y/N to completely recover and get ahold of her powers. She no longer had to carry around a fire extinguisher, and spare ones no longer crowded random rooms in the mansion. The only time her powers would act out was when the temperature around her crept above 80°; needless to say, hot weather and heaters were her kryptonite (but she wasn’t allowed to say that around Clark). She also discovered a new power alongside her… combustion skills- she had the ability to make people feel as though they were burning inside. There were no physical effects, and it couldn’t kill anyone, but the pain was definitely there. Also during that year, a small funeral was held for Jason at Gotham Cemetery, consisting of Y/N, Dick, Alfred, and Bruce. Bruce hadn’t stayed for long, with Alfred following shortly after to keep an eye on him. Y/N and Dick remained until the sun began to set, sitting in comfortable silence and staring at the headstone.

It only took two more years after that for Y/N to grace the streets of Gotham as Nightwing’s sidekick, Sunbird. It was the nickname Jason had given her after she had admitted that being with him was the freest she ever felt while they were sitting on top of Wayne Enterprise, watching the sunset. At the time, Jason didn’t know that there was an actual bird called sunbird, he just liked the way the words went together when he thought of her. And now, with Jason gone and her newfound abilities, the alias stuck. She would have been Batman’s sidekick, but there was a new, scrawny genius taking over Robin and Bruce still couldn’t look her in the eye without seeing Jason’s body. So, Dick had taken on the job of training her while Alfred created her battle-ready, fireproof suit, with built in cooling technology to keep her from overheating. It was a grey bodysuit with red down the back of her arms and over her upper chest, creating an abstract wing design, paired with a red domino-mask. Being Sunbird and racing across rooftops with Nightwing or Robin, and the occasional Titan or other vigilante, gave Y/N the freedom she had been chasing her whole life.

Now, six years after Jason’s death, that freedom was about to be torn away.

“You can’t keep me locked up, Bruce!” Y/N’s screech filled the Cave, causing Tim to wince from his spot on the nursing bed. They were all still in their suits, reeling and arguing with the fact that Jason was alive and what to do next.

“You’re the reason he’s back, if you go out there who knows what he’ll do,” Bruce argued, his voice steady yet tinted with anger. “He could’ve let slip that you’re alive to anyone. It’s not safe.”

Y/N let out a yell of frustration, slapping the bag of ice she had been holding into Tim’s stomach as she stalked forward. “This is Jason we’re talking about, he won’t hurt me,” she snapped, pointing a finger at Bruce. “He knows what Joker did to me, he was there half the time, saving me. He’s not going to go blabbing off to everyone and their fucking mom, knowing that it could result in me actually dying. Just because he has a different alias and kills the occasional drug lord, doesn’t mean he isn’t one of us anymore.”

“That’s exactly what it means-”

“Master Wayne, I suggest you take a break.” Alfred’s voice, the calmest in the room, caused the two bickering vigilantes to immediately silence. Bruce was still breathing heavily, looking down at the younger girl with conflicting emotions, while Y/N stared up at him with narrowed eyes, ready to keep fighting. “You’re both upset, as I assume we all are, but arguing over Master Jason’s role in our family will do us no good in figuring out our next step.”

“Alfie’s right,” Dick sighed, wedging himself between Y/N and Bruce. “B, let’s go let Gordon know about the takedown tonight.” Putting his hands on Bruce’s shoulders he turned the older man around, giving Y/N one last look before guiding Bruce out of the Cave.

Once the door was shut Y/N collapsed onto the edge of Tim’s medical bed, holding her head in her hands. “Jason’s more part of this family than I am, Bruce can’t just say stuff like that.”

“You are a part of this family,” Tim said, allowing Alfred to poke at his ribs to find the broken ones, “he’s just upset, you know how he gets.”

She murmured, “that doesn’t make it okay,” before lifting her head. She looked over at Tim, watching how Alfred wrapped bandages around his torso and applied more ice to his side.

It was quiet for a few moments, before Alfred spoke, “if you plan on going solo, at least make sure one of us knows what you’re doing.” Y/N chuckled, flashing him a cheeky smile. “Better yet, take Master Tim or Dick with you.”

At that, both birds scoffed out a laugh. “Yeah right, he’d kill me on sight, same with Dick. No offense, Y/N, but you’re own on your own,” Tim huffed, earning a slap on the shoulder from Alfred.

Y/N laughed loudly and shook her head. “You’re right, no offense taken, baby bird. I have to do this on my own, there’s something off about him right now. Throwing the original and the new Robin at him won’t end well. I can handle myself, he won’t hurt me; no matter what Bruce says, Jason Todd is still under that helmet.”

All Writing Taglist (OPEN): @teageowen @alex--awesome--22 @hxdesworld @frozenhuntress67 @samanthasmileys @simonsaysyasss @marvelismylifffe @bademliimagnum @wherewecangazeintothestars @loxbbg

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #redhood #redhood x reader #redhood imagine #red hood imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #batfam

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