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xiaodejunletsact · 4 years

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i still love you | zhong chenle

word count: 17, 367

genre: high school!au, basketball!player, angst, fluff, you are a bet au??? lol idk 8 letters!au

warnings: lots of angst, playing of emotions, mentions of panic attacks and sex.

authors note: im finally back!! with a chenle fic!! okay so,, i wanted to thank everyone who loved 8 letters, the reaction to that fic was better than anything i could’ve ever imagined, so thank you so much!! this is like a chenle version from the same universe. but most importantly: i decided to put songs in some scenes to enhance the experience while reading, you don’t have to but if you want to listen to the ‘soundtrack’ of this fic click the ‘🏀’!!!!! please enjoy!!

synopsis: high school can be complicated. thats why when your crush of three years, zhong chenle, approaches you out of nowhere offering to drive you home you are right to question his intentions.

🏀

You can hear the loud thumping of your heart in your ears as you watch the players dart across the court. The squeaking of their sneakers against the polished floor as they furrowed their eyebrows in concentration. Well… as he furrowed his eyebrows in anticipation, you wouldn’t know about the rest of the players on the court because your eyes were focused on one boy in particular. Number 22, Zhong Chenle. Your crush since sophomore year and soon to be captain of the basketball team (even if this is your personal opinion you’re 87% sure of it). The boy had caught your eye when he first smiled your way back in 10th grade and offered to help you with everything since you were new, leaving a stamp on your heart that would mark it as his own for the next years to come. Of course, you hardly ever spoke to him, too nervous and clumsy to even think of approaching someone so out of your league but there was something about his crinkly smile eyes and fluffy hair that got a hold of and never let go.

Which is why you find yourself seated at the school’s bleachers watching the basketball game like you did every week, hands clutching the sides of the bench as you watched Chenle get the orange ball passed to him, and the scene plays in slow motion.

Sweat drips off the tips of his newly dyed blond hair as he gains impulse with a jump, shooting a perfect three pointer and deeming the game of victory for his team. You proudly smile as you watch his teammates cause a ruckus around him, cheering and hitting him occasionally. However, your mood dampened as you watched Chenle escape the clutches of his team, running to the side benched where Ava, (the bitchiest girl in school but also his girlfriend), sat. He leans down to peck her lips, only to be stopped when she holds her hand up, pushing him away with a disgusting, “you’re sweaty!” He looks dejected for a second, before forcing a smile and turning back towards the team. You wonder if you’re the only one who noticed the interaction, you wonder if you’re the only one who cares enough to want to march down there and tell her off. You huff, instead opting to march your angry way to the entrance of the gym starting the trek home. Wondering if Number 22 will ever be yours like you desperately want him to.

It’s funny how much of your life you could dedicate to one person without any sort of reciprocation. You felt almost embarrassed as you shoved yet another letter into an envelope that increasingly got thicker and thicker with every burst of your emotions. You see, every time your feelings for Chenle got too strong to bare you would write short letters about how you felt, obviously, with no intention of Chenle ever getting his hands on them, just for your own catharsis. It helped, most days.

Today is not one of those days.

“Uh huh…” you said absentmindedly at your friend, Donghyuck , who tries to explain to you what intricate contraption they are building in this week's robotics class. However, you’re too busy looking over his shoulder at Chenle who laughs half heartedly at something his friend says, before going serious once again. You furrow your eyebrows and say, “have you noticed anything off about Chenle?”

Donghyuck sighs, knowing he has lost you once again. Nevertheless, he humors your narrative turning to watch the boy in question along with you. “I mean… he is kind of down.”

“Right?” You reply, shutting your locker and clicking the lock. Donghyuck shrugs.

“Maybe it’s because he broke up with his girlfriend this weekend.”

You stop dead in your tracks, “He did what?”

Donghyuck nods, (like it’s not a huge deal!) “at the party you missed this weekend, they got into a big fight and he told her it was over and stormed off.”

“A-and you didn’t think to tell me this?” You respond to which he just shrugs.

“It’s not like you had a chance with him anyway.”

“Ouch, Donghyuck .”

The words stung, of course but you knew Donghyuck was just being realistic with you, never one to lead you into things that could only hurt you in the future.

Donghyuck says something after that, that you don’t quite catch but you guess it’s fine since you didn’t really want to listen to him right now anyway.

Especially since Zhong Chenle just caught you staring at him and is now staring just as intensely into your eyes as you were to the side of his face.

You don’t know what kind of glitch you go through that you are unable to form any type of reaction or look away. Instead just kind of… freezing.

He brings up a hand and slightly waves in your direction. A kind smile on his face.

Oh no. He actually sees you.

Before you can even process it, you realize that you're running down the hall in the direction opposite to him. Out of the back door of the school, heaving as your heartbeat reaches 3000bpm.

🏀

Recalling the memory as you walk to the bus stop that afternoon causes you to slap your palm against your forehead once again. “What was I thinking? Now Chenle is really going to think I’m a freak.”

You couldn’t believe yourself, kicking the gravel underneath your sneakers in frustration you beat yourself up over having ruined the only interaction that could’ve possibly been your chance to win his heart. It could’ve been the last time he ever looked your way again, and you wouldn’t blame him.

But it wasn’t.

Because just minutes after, like a miracle from heaven, you hear the roar of an expensive car engine near you before hearing his angelic voice call the syllables you thought you’d never hear him say: “Y/N!”

Wide eyed, your snap your head to the sound of his voice only to see him through the window of his shiny million dollar car. He smiles and you feel like running again. He notices. “Wait! Don’t go!”

You hear the buckle of his seatbelt being undone and watch in shock as he jogs around the car and suddenly he towering over you with a sweet smile. “Hi.”

Say hi back! What are you doing? “Uh- I- uh- Hi?”

He chuckles, looking down at his shoes before looking into your eyes once again. “How you doing?”

“I’m- im good.” You stutter.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The silence that follows makes you want to get swallowed up by the ground and never see daylight again.

Chenle notices how you avoid his eyes and chuckles once again, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well, um, I just saw that you were walking and wanted to know if you wanted a ride.”

“In your car?” You ask in a quiet voice. Chenle laughs.

“I mean, yeah. Unless you want to rent bikes from the tourism center.” You allow a small smile to grace your lips briefly before remembering the circumstances you currently found yourself in. Chenle (Zhong Chenle, Number 22, Yes. Chenle.) has just offered you a ride in his fancy car. The same car you watched him pull up in for two whole years. And he wants you to get in it.

The millions of scenarios that go through your head as to why this could be happening but as you painfully remember today’s events, you realize what this is about.

Chenle shoves both his hands in his jean pockets as he awaits your answer. “...So?”

You breathe in deeply, “Listen, um, if you’re doing this because you feel bad about earlier or something, please don’t.”

Chenle’s eyebrows furrow together and he comes closer to you. “That’s not the case at all, I just saw you walking all by yourself and thought to offer you a ride home.”

“But you drive past here every day and you’ve never offered me a ride before?” You question out loud, wincing as you realize that you could possibly sound creepy for knowing where he goes in the afternoon. “I mean- you always drive in the same direction as my bus stop! So I see you!” You feel how clammy your palms are rubbing against the harsh fabric of your jeans. “Speaking of the bus, I should probably go before I miss it.”

Just as you turn to walk away, Chenle’s hand grips your wrist where your sleeve has ridden up, allowing the first skin to skin contact you ever made with him. Your eyes widen at him and he lets go immediately, awkwardly. “I guess I was focused on other things, but now I’m focused on you.”

In the fever dream that was Zhong Chenle flirting (?), and the insistent drumming of your heart in your ears you come back to only realize you were moving into Chenle’s car. (The doors opened upwards!)

The boy took the liberty of opening it for you, closing it once you were settled in. You took the moment he was walking to the driver’s side to take in a deep breath and compose yourself.

What the hell is going on? Why Zhong Chenle talking to you? Why is he driving you home? Why did he tell you he’s focused on you? What? What does any of this mean?

Before you could begin pulling your hairs out in frustration, Chenle’s door opens and he plops down onto the driver’s seat. He looks over at you with a smile as he fastens his seatbelt, “Buckle up.” You do so quietly, biting your lip to prevent any further embarrassment.

The drive begins with little to no talking, the only thing filling the silence being the constant humming of the air conditioning and static of the radio.

“Do you want to listen to something?” He presses his pale fingers to the glossy touch screen in between you two. Soon enough, a soft beat travels through the ambience of his car. You see from the corner of your eye that he looks over at you and smiles, but keep your nervous eyes on the road in front of you; Chenle faces the road once again, tilting his head to the side in a gesture that you would find unbearably cute any other day makes you want to open the car door and jump out into the street, running away from the awkward silence and the confusing thoughts plaguing your mind.

Chenle leaves after promising to pick you up tomorrow morning, you can only nod your head rapidly and run into your house, afraid that he would be able to hear the loud beats of your heart.

Once the door of your room is closed safely behind you, you finally breathe for the first time this afternoon. “What the fuck? What the shit? What the hell?” You mutter to yourself as you pace around the room.

Could it be that your dreams are finally becoming a reality? Had Chenle seen you the way you saw him this entire time?

The one sided crush wasn’t as one sided as you thought! Is what you wanted to think, but there was part of you that questioned where his intentions lie due to the abruptness of the situation. What if there was an ulterior motive behind his actions? No. Chenle wouldn't do something as bad as play with someone’s emotions like that? Right?

As you lay in bed pondering the thought you decide it's best to ask him tomorrow.

You wake up 30 minutes earlier the next day, showering thoroughly and waiting in the living room so as to not make him wait too long to leave when he arrives.

This moment comes while you’re sitting at the table with your family, your eyes widen as you hear the knocks on your front door. “I’ll get it!” You stop your mother from reaching the door as you run to it.

Chenle smiles politely as your face appears from inside the house. “Hey.”

You smile back nervously, “Hi.” You proceed to stand at the doorway for a few awkward seconds before your mother comes to see who it is. She is pleasantly surprised to see someone of the male species there in front of you.

“Oh?” She says, smiling at him then looking at you suggestively. You try to convey a silent plea to not embarrass you before she looks away to shake Chenle’s hand. “Hi! I’m Y/N’s mom, are you one of her friends?”

Chenle smiles at her sweetly, “Yes, I am. I’m actually here to pick Y/N up for school.”

“You’re taking Y/N to school?” Your mother’s shocked face is enough to tell Chenle that it was probably the first time anything like this has happened to you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Your mother sends you a sly smile that she thinks Chenle doesn’t notice before nudging your arm. “Then what are you doing standing there? Don’t make him wait!” Your groan and rub the spot on her arm where she pushed you as you go upstairs to grab your backpack.

Downstairs, Chenle accepts your mother’s offer of entering your humble home. Your house is a modest abode with strange decorations hanging up on the walls, along with pictures of your family. The living room looks like an orphanage where mix matched furniture goes to live. There's one pale green couch, one beige and one a bright yellow. Chenle thinks back to the pristine state of his own living room, the pure white furniture and modern, classy decorations hung up on the marble walls. He realizes that it is nothing like his own, in fact, he doesn’t think it could’ve been more different but he finds that he likes it. That it feels homey compared to his usually liefless house. It’s the kind of place he would stay in for a long time.

Chenle shakes those thoughts out of his as soon as they appear, remembering why he was doing this in the first place, he couldn’t risk getting attached.

“Be honest with me.”

Chenle startles upon hearing your voice above its normal shy muttering. You, on the other hand, are shaking in your shoes having practiced what you would say and thought over doing this millions of times last night. “What are your intentions? Like, it’s not that I think you’re a bad person or anything but I just don’t understand because of the suddenness.”

Chenle averts his eyes from the road to glance at you, smiling. He faces forward once again sighing slightly. “Okay, I’ll be honest,” He starts, you sit up straighter and involuntarily lean toward him. “I think you’re really cute, I always noticed you at my games and the way you would cheer me on was really endearing and it encourages me a lot.”

The butterflies that erupt in your stomach with his words are undeniable. “You noticed me?” Your quiet voice is back, still, he hears you. He smiles, and it’s genuine.

“Of course I did,” he says, “And i know that it was very… sudden but if you give me a chance i would really love to take you on dates and maybe… more.”

He sounds slightly unsure of himself. Rubbing the leather of his wheel with his hands.

Your mind is mush. Chenle likes you! He thinks you're cute and he noticed you at his games! What is life?!

“What do you say?” he says after the awkward pause in which you freaked out.

‘No’ is not a word in your dictionary.

The cycle continues throughout the next week; Chenle picks you up every morning (never forgetting to bid your mother a good morning) and takes you home every afternoon (always politely rejecting your mother’s offers to stay for dinner), always spilling banter in the car, learning about each other. Chenle notices how you open up to him and he likes it (though he can’t really pinpoint why), he likes talking to you, and laughing with you and he finds himself wanting to be around you more often. Though this wasn’t initially part of the plan, he figures he can enjoy it until it had to end.

The thought makes an eerie feeling rise in his chest, even if he doesn't know why, he thinks things will be a lot harder than he planned.

🏀

It’s friday when Chenle invites you to come watch his basketball practice.

You had imagined this scenario in your head plenty of times before but not once did you think you would ever actually be here sitting on the players bench watching up close as Chenle maneuvered across the court along with the rest of the players. There was sweat dripping off the tip of his blonde hair which made him look 10 times more attractive than he already was and you have to stop the drool that threatens to leak from your lips as he sits down next to you on the bench. “Hey.”

“Hi,” You reply, trying to keep yourself together.

“Practice is over.” Chenle says motioning towards the now empty court. It's only then that you realize that you and Chenle are alone, and suddenly, he’s sitting a lot closer to you than you thought. You turn your face to him and realize that your noses are nearly touching, Chenle smiles. “Hi.” He says, coming a bit closer until he feels the moisture of his sweaty arm against your dry one, he recoils. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. I’m so sweaty right now.” There’s a dust of embarrassed blush on his face as he slides away on the bench. Your heart starts beating erratically as you watch him try to rub his sweat away with his small hand towel.

You can’t find the words to tell him it’s okay (slightly scared to tell him that you like it) so you say the next best thing. “You looked cool playing.”

This eases him a bit, he smiles. “You think so?”

“Yeah!” You say, “Like Curry!”

Chenle laughs, “Oh man! I can’t believe you just compared me to Curry.” He stands and takes a bow, waving his towel dramatically. “I am honored.”

The scene causes you to giggle, and Chenle has to take a breather to calm his own beating heart.

“Especially when you blocked Jaemin at the 3rd point and scored on the spot. I was impressed.”

“You must know a lot about basketball.” He points out. You shake your head.

“Not really,” is your response. “I only learned from coming to watch your games.” The sudden confession slipped from your lips and you momentarily panicked.

Upon not hearing a response from Chenle, your breathing deepens and you think maybe you ruined the moment.

Unbeknownst to you, Chenle watches you with curious eyes. He senses the tension coming from you and walks away, leaving you alone in your troubled state.

You think maybe Chenle left without, freaked out and uncomfortable because of what you said, however, you’re proven ridiculously wrong when you dribble a basketball on the floor.

You lift your gaze to Chenle who dribbled the orange ball with a teasing smile on his face. “Why don’t you show me what you got?”

“I- I don’t-“ you begin.

“Oh come one, Y/N!” He says, passing the ball to you, “You have to be good. I mean, you did learn from the best.” The cocky shrug of his shoulders and teasing smile bring you peace of mind and you find yourself agreeing.

It’s safe to say that Chenle is surprised at your skills. He should’ve known you had paid enough attention to him to learn all his techniques and dodge them while playing. And to think he was planning on letting you win so you could feel better. It eventually became a full competition. Sweaty bodies and heavy breathing, running, dodging, scoring. Teasing words and intense competitive gazes.

The score was 7-7. Chenle sweeps in to swipe the ball from your hands but you pivot and shoot the three pointer right from your spot. “Yes!” You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air with a celebratory dance. “I won!”

Chenle is leaning with his hands on his knees, his chest heaving. “I need-“ he breathes, “I need to stop being so good at basketball. So heathens like you can stop learning my best tricks.” He brings his hand up to pinch your cheek teasingly. “You should join the team.” He says jokingly. You chuckle, rubbing the spot on your face that was just touched by his fingers.

“As if.”

“Hey! Does the idea of being in a team with tons of rowdy sweaty dudes that unappealing?” Chenle jokes, placing the basketball back in its place.

“It’s enough with you.”

Before you can retract the statement, Chenle speaks. “That’s right, you only need one sweaty rowdy basketball player in your life.” He winks. “And that’s me.”

You laugh at his words but can feel your heartbeat all throughout your body. You can’t stop your mind from thinking:

You’re damn right. It’s you.

As you walk back to his car, Chenle is the first to break the comfortable silence. “You know… it was nice to see you so talkative and competitive today. I had fun.”

And despite everything, he meant it. He knows he probably shouldn’t, but he does.

Unaware of his inner turmoil, you smile. “I did too.”

He gives you a lopsided smile in return before sliding the strap of your backpack off your shoulder and onto his own, keeping his own backpack company. “I’ll carry it for you.”

You wonder if this is the start of something magical. Beside you, Chenle wonders the same but his thoughts are weaved with something more, something that meant trouble.

You, however, hurry home to pour your feelings into a letter. Hearts drawn on the borders of the loose leaf page and a smile on your face all throughout.

🏀

Every week it gets harder to become immune to Chenle’s charm.

Today, he did something as simple as drop you off at home after school. However, before bidding you goodbye as song rings from the radio of his car. Chenle perks up. “I love this song!”

He turns up the radio to its full capacity and rolls down the windows, making the music sound through the street.

“Chenle! Turn that down!” You exclaim but the laughter in your tone hints that you want the exact opposite. Chenle shakes his head.

“No can do!” he waves his arms dramatically in the air, “Dance with me!”

You laugh once again at the wonderful boy, “You’re ridiculous!”

“Oh yeah?” He says challengingly. Suddenly he is opening the door and dancing on the sidewalk where everyone could see him. His movements are almost manic and all you can do is continue laughing. “I’m not leaving until you dance with me.”

“My neighbors are going to see you.” You warn. He shrugs.

“It's fine. I’ll just tell them I’m with you!”

“Oh my god no.” You say, stepping out of the passenger’s side, walking around the car until you’re in front of him, you cross your arms.

“Show me some moves, I’m getting tired.”

And so an impromptu two people dance party breaks out on the sidewalk in front of your house. Even though in your imagination dancing with Chenle would require the presence of an elegant ball gown and fancy chandeliers, all there is to be seen is loud music, laughter, grabbing of hands and playful banter. And you wonder if it could ever be more perfect than this.

Of course, like any other human, Chenle has his moments.

The morning car ride was as silent as could be. Chenle’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, angrily. His usual smile is replaced but a scowl that only left momentarily when you stepped into the car earlier, a (clearly forced) polite smile is what you saw.

Since then you didn’t dare to speak, not wanting to bother him when he was clearly having a bad time.

You arrive at the school and escape the still awkward ambience, bidding him a quiet farewell before running in.

You proceeded to spend the entire school day wondering what was up with Chenle that morning and what you could do to help him. It’s when you meet at the end of the day once again that you ask, “Hey, is everything okay?”

The boy freezes up, before clearing his throat. “Yeah, why do you ask?”

You shrug, “Nothing, you you were just kind of, like, quiet this morning… so i figured you were upset.”

The blonde boy in the driver’s seat keeps his eyes on the road ahead of him, “It’s nothing, Y/N.” He says in a rough tone, one you’ve never heard or thought you would ever hear him use. “It doesn’t concern you anyway, okay?”

Your form deflates into the seat, wishing you had kept quiet like you did this morning. You reply, “Okay.”

There’s tension. Body swallowing tension that lasts all throughout the car ride to your house, as Chenle pulls up in front the driveway and you have already unbuckled your seatbelt before he got the chance to put the car in park.

In the passenger’s seat, Chenle feels the guilt creeping on him. He realizes that you only asked because you cared. “Wait-” Seemingly, he is too late since you’ve already shut the car door and made your way up your driveway. “Goddammit.” He sighs to himself, working to take off his seatbelt.

Your feet hurriedly take you to your door after you exit Chenle’s car, your nerves increase as you hear Chenle leave his car. “Y/N, I-”

The door opens before you can turn the handle, your mother’s smiling face looks back at you. “Hey, Honey.” You smile back at the woman, who immediately notices the emotions behind your smile. Quietly, she asks: “Are you okay?”

As soon as you nod in response, her eye catches Chenle standing guilty behind you. “Chenle! How are you?”

Chenle smiles with a nod, “I’m doing alright.”

“Well, I would invite you in for dinner but I can imagine what your answer will be.” She says jokingly, teasing him for all the times he had rejected her offer. To her surprise, Chenle doesn’t laugh awkwardly or agree with her, instead, he ponders for a bit. His gaze finds your own causing you to quickly look away. He feels his heart contract as he thinks of starting at square one with you; back to when you couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Actually,” He says, “Dinner sounds great.”

🏀

Even though the tension between you and Chenle is painfully obvious, he feels his heart become lighter as he watches how you interact with your little siblings. Laughing at their childish antics and playing along with them at the dinner table. Your parents engaged in conversation with each other across the table and Chenle sat next to you, smiling and nodding as your little sister animatedly explained to him why the rocks she found next to the trash can at recess just had to be magical. As he looks at the dynamic you have in your home, he realizes that this feels more like a home than his house ever has. All of you are sat at the table, the splash of colors brought by the miscellaneous decorations, the laughter and the love radiating from every corner makes Chenle want to stay there forever.

“Woah!” He acts, “Are you serious?”

The little girl nods proudly, “Mhm! And I’m going to give this one,” she points to a particular shiny one on the dining table, “to Y/N, so she can make her dream come true. But don’t tell her it’s a secret.”

He chuckles at her before whispering, “why do you think she’ll ask for?”

She giggles, leaning closer. She puts a hand over her mouth as she whispers. “Number 22.”

Chenle refrains from gasping, “Huh?”

“She talks about him but she never wants to tell me who he is.” She explains. “But I think if she had a rock to grant her wishes, she would wish for him.”

Chenle takes this moment to look over at you, studying your side profile as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, helping your little brother with his food.

That’s when it hits him. He realizes that this isn’t what he planned it to be, that the bet he set up with his friends had gone too far, and that if he himself had a magic rock for his use… he would wish for you too.

“Thank you so much for the food, it was delicious.” Chenle says, rubbing his full belly to emphasize. Your mother chuckles. “It was my pleasure, Chenle. You can come back anytime you want, you are always welcome here.”

“I definitely will, ma’am.” He says with a lopsided smile before shaking your father’s hand firmly. You can already tell by the way your father affectionately claps his hand on his shoulder and smiles at him that he too has taken a liking to the boy, like your mother.

“Y/N.” She says sternly, turning to you who currently battled to avoid Chenle’s eyes. You hum. “Be polite and walk Chenle to his car, please.”

You grimace subtly, not wanting to be the awkward air that would come with being alone with him. You want desperately to say no, but the gaze your mother gives you tells you that would mean trouble for you.

The basketball player notices your hesitation and looks down sadly at his sneakers, remaining that way as you lead him to the front door of your house. Its then that Chenle looks up to the view of the back of your head, his hand twitches in want to smoothen out the ahi at the back of your head for you.

You catch Chenle mid dilemma as you turn to face him, gesturing towards the open door. His eyes shift from you to the door. And to his car, he thinks about the ride home and how once he gets home it will just be him and he’ll be alone.

He doesn’t want to be alone. Strangely enough, he wants to be with you.

“Chenle?” He hears your soft voice. Your eyebrows are furrowed as you watch him stand there, unmoving, with a look of confusion. He looks into your eyes and realizes you’re waiting for him to walk through the door first. He does so, head tilted down. You follow him out the door and close it behind you.

You trail behind him until he reaches his car, however, instead of getting in like you expected him to, he turns abruptly to you. His eyes are glossy and startled at the sight of them. “Do you-“ He pauses, hesitating. “Do you wanna go for a drive?”

“A drive?” You ask, watching him fiddle nervously with his keys.

“Yes.”

“Right now?” He nods firmly.

“I don’t- I don’t think my parents will let me go out this late.” You say, wrapping your arms around yourself to combat the winter wind. Before saying in a quieter voice, remembering the events that took place earlier that day, “And I thought you wanted to be alone.”

Chenle feels guilty upon hearing your words. Knowing you felt hurt by his words from earlier. He shakes his head, stepping closer to you. “No. I don’t. That’s the last thing I want right now.”

You see something in his eyes that you had never seen before. Exhaustion mixed with sadness and worry. The usually mischievous happy go lucky look nowhere to be seen amongst all the turmoil you found looking at him. You immediately grew more concerned. “Chenle…” you say, he looks away momentarily. “I’ll- let me ask my parents.”

Much like many times before, you’re sat in the passenger's side of his expensive car. The scene has become common, except the ambiance is different. Chenle doesn’t attempt to start conversation like he always does, instead, he just stares forward blankly. Occasional tears rolling down his pale cheeks which he wipes away as soon as they appear, you are itching to ask the boy what is going on in his pretty head but decide against it once you remember how that turned out earlier. So you keep silent as Chenle presses harder on the gas causing the streetlights of the empty highway to become a blur above you. It momentarily impressed you how fast his car could go, however, once you look over at the boy, you see his state. Chenle has strings of tears running down his face, snot dripping out of his nose and even his hair is sticking to his forehead due to his excessive sweating.

“Chenle, maybe we should pull over.”

He doesn’t seem to hear you, only pushing further down on the accelerator. Fear and concern enters your bloodstream as you watch him become a version of himself you’ve never seen, a version you didn’t even think existed. You reach over took him and rest your shaky hand on his arm. Upon feeling your touch, his head snaps to you and he hits the brakes abruptly causing your entire body to jolt forward. “Woah!”

Chenle’s chest heaves as he sees how scared he has made you. “I’m- I’m sorry.”

“Pull over, Chenle.” You say sternly, pulling your hand away and instead of doing what he wanted to do which was pulling your hand back to him, he does as you told him and park his car on the side of the road. The two of you sit in silence for what feels like forever, until you hear a sniffle come from Chenle’s side of the car. Looking over, you notice how he is hunched over the steering wheel, crying.

“Chenle?” You use the softest voice you could muster. “Chenle, what’s wrong?”

Your immediate response is silence. He takes in short choked breaths, it seems like every breath he takes causes him to fall into a state of agony.

“I think-” he said, voice quivering. “Y/N, I think I’m a bad person.”

The sentence confuses you. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I did something terrible to someone I care about.” He answers, you note that he is not able to meet your eyes. It scares you. “What did you do?”

“I can’t-” He says breathlessly, his hand fumbling to open his car door. Stumbling out, watch as he makes his way around the car, leaning against the cement railing with his head in his hands.

You watch him in momentary shock before following him his actions and getting out of the car as well. You carefully approach him. “What is going on with you?”

Chenle sighs, pulling his hands away from his face. “I had a fight with my mother this morning, and everything was just piling up and I guess that was just the last straw.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just… everyone expects so much from me.” He breathes. “My parents, my friends, my teachers, everyone at that damn school!” The railing in front of him takes the blows of his frustration. “And I don’t think i’m as good as they think i am, i'm not worth it.” He looks over at you and you immediately straighten at the sight of his red face. “Like you, Y/N. You’re so good to me, so nice and sweet. I don’t deserve it. Especially from you.”

You don’t know what he means by that. Chenle knows you don’t know but he stays silent. You take this as your chance to speak. “I’m not only nice to you because I want to be. Because you’ve always been nice to me too, Chenle.” You dare to step closer, into his bubble. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, it would be impossible to meet everyone’s expectations so just be yourself… that’s enough for a lot of people.”

Chenle’s mouth speaks before he can stop it. “Is it enough for you?”

To forgive me? To still be the same after you realize what I’ve done.

There is a silence that follows that one sentence, Chenle avoids your gaze nervously, he doesn’t realize that your silence is the product of your racing mind. The mind that is currently trying to find the words to describe what is happening in your heart. You ultimately decided that the best way to go is the truth.

“You know… I kinda had a crush on you all throughout high school, which is kind of embarrassing but that’s not the point,” you start, “the point is that I had this perfect version of you in my head. Of what you would be like. And then when you came up to me that day… I didn’t know if I could talk to someone who wasn’t the Chenle I knew up here.” You take the liberty of poking a finger against your temple. “But I did anyway, and I realized you were nothing like the Chenle I saw in my head…”

Chenle chuckled sadly before commenting, “Ouch.”

“You were better than him.” Chenle’s gaze snaps towards you in shock, you look forward. Too afraid to meet his gaze. “Nicer, funnier, and way more handsome than I thought up close.” You chuckle, having made the comment to help him feel better. “So yeah. I would say you are enough. More than, even.”

“You really mean that?”

For the first time you make eye contact, you furrow your eyebrows to try and make your sincerity as apparent as possible. “I do.”

He knows you do and that mends his heart as much as it breaks it into tiny pieces. He wants nothing more than to pull you towards him and smash his lips onto your own, but he also knows that it will only worsen the situation that is yet to come. Still his hands reach before he can stop them and reach to cup either side of your face.

Your heartbeat is running at an unearthly speed, Chenle can hear it but knows his own is probably the same. Betraying his common sense, he leans into you until your lips are almost touching, the top brushing enough to have you wanting more. You think he’s going to kiss you and close your lips tightly. However, instead of his lips, you feel his hot breath when he utters the words: “I’m sorry.” Before removing his hands from your face and backing away.

You can’t say the action didn’t cause a hurtful blow to your feelings but you also knew Chenle was in a tough place right now. You smile at him. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

Chenle hates how you smile at him when he does things that hurt your feelings. He hates that you’re so considerate and nice to him despite what he is doing to you behind your back. He hates that you will find out one day and that you’ll hate him as much as he hates this. He hates that he doesn’t want to lose you, and that in the end he probably will.

Friday is a holiday, so you don’t see Chenle the day after he took you on a late night drive with him. (You wrote another letter that night). In fact, you don’t hear from him until your phone chimes Saturday morning, Chenle’s name above a text message.

22 [9:15am]: hey

22 [9:15am]: I hope you’re good :)

22 [9:15am]: I just wanted to let you know there’s a party at my house tonight

22 [9:16am]: if you want

22 [9:18am]: actually, I really want you there so…

22 [9:20am]: please come.

You read the texts over a few times, it dawns upon you that you've never seen Chenle’s house. Sure, you’ve heard from classmates who had gone to his huge parties that it was extravagant as can be, resembling a hotel lobby rather than a house. The thought of being in his home made your hands sweat. Still, you remember how anxious you were to see him, especially after the other night, and you find yourself typing a reply of confirmation before tossing your phone to the side and walking to your closet to find something to wear for tonight.

🏀

As soon as your parents drop you off in front of what was easily the biggest, brightest, classiest house you’ve ever seen in your entire life, you get the unnerving urge to go home.

The abundance of people did nothing to help the creeping anxiety, the stares of some that briefly trained on you before whispering something to their friends. You couldn’t help but feel out of place. That is, until you see a familiar face. Jisung walks up to you with his hand wrapped around his girlfriend’s. “Hi!” He calle brightly as the girl waved friendly.

“Hey guys!” You try to stabilize your voice. “How’s the party?”

“Honestly… it kinda turned sour once some lower class men came and started to get wasted.” Jisung chuckled out, his girlfriend nods in agreement as she grips his arm affectionately. You smile when he looks over at her and smiles. There’s a part of you that feels envious of the relationship the two have but most of your thoughts surround how happy you are for the two. “We’re probably leaving soon anyway.” Jisung adds on.

After getting over your monetary panic of having to be alone once again you nod your head, smiling at them. “Okay, I’m going to try to find Chenle.” They nod and bid their farewells, you sigh out loud as you walk through the crowd once again, searching for the blonde hair of the boy you so desperately need to calm right now.

“I heard that she is the one Chenle left Ava for?” You hear someone say.

“No way! Chenle wouldn’t stoop that low, plus I heard Ava broke up with him.”

“Either way, I don’t understand why he would be hanging with her anyway, he probably feels sorry for her. What a loser.”

It’s strange how you can hear their comments over the loud music that causes the walls to vibrate. You feel like vomiting as your insecurities take over and another sweaty presses against you. You push them away and run the rest of the way, not looking to find Chenle anymore just wanting to get out of here. You find what you hope is the bathroom and open the door, running inside and shoving the door closed, chest heaving.

“Y/N?” You hear from behind you, you turn around in shock and make eye contact with the red faced boy you spent your whole night looking for. “Chenle.”

It’s then that you realize that he’s not alone. Across from him is an equally red faced Ava, eyebrows furrowed and lips turned down in a frown.

It dawns upon you that you might have just interrupted something.

You look between the two before averting your gaze back to the floor. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Hands grabbing the door handle and turning it quickly in a desperate attempt to flee the room. Completely deaf to the , “Wait!” That leaves Chenle’s mouth as you leave the room.

Soon enough your back in the sea of sweaty drunks, trying to stabilize your voyage to the front door. To escape the stormy waters this night has caused your nerves.

And you almost make it, had it not been for the harsh shove you received that sent you tumbling onto the floor. Suddenly, the people around you become giants and their huge feet stomp around you, threatening to squash you under their sneakers as if you were an irrelevant bug.

Your shaky legs prevent you from standing up, and you only realize you’re crying when you feel a tear run down the side of your neck. No one seems to notice you’re there and you suddenly remember why being invisible sucks.

It feels like ages have passed when you feel hands gripping your arms and lifting you onto your feet. Chenle’s voice sounds distance even if he’s barely an inch away from you. “Are you okay?”

“I think-“ you say, shakily. “I think I’m having a panic attack.”

Chenle takes your head and shoves it into his chest, making sure to keep a hand over your eyes as he leads you through the crowd. “It’s okay.” He whispers. “Everything is going to be okay.”

He repeats the sentences over and over until you two reach a quieter place and you hear the door of a shutting door and the music becomes muffled.

Chenle keeps a hand secured around your head as he holds you for a few more seconds before slowly letting you go.

“I need you to breathe with me, okay?” He says. Before you can think, you nod. “In through your nose.” He demonstrated, you follow. “Out through your mouth.”

You continue this until the beating of your heart has slowed down and you don’t feel like you're physically suffocating anymore. Instead, you feel tired. Chenle must have noticed because he ushers you to lay on the neatly made bed behind you, tucking you in before you had time to protest.

🏀

It takes a whole ten minutes for either of you to speak, you half expected Chenle to leave after throwing this blue blanket over you, instead, he sits at the edge of the mattress and picks at his nails. Kind of like he wants to say something.

“Thank you for helping me.” You speak first. “I don’t know what went wrong.”

Chenle sighs, “I’m sorry for not finding you, I just- I was-“

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.” You interrupt, remembering where he was when you finally found him. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, still you know it’s not your place to question him. “I should get going, anyway.” You rush to slip on your shoes only to be stopped by Chenle.

“No, it’s not what you thought it was.” He starts. You avert your gaze from him in fear of what he had to say. “Ava and I ran into each other earlier and she was just going off about how horrible I was in front of everyone. I think she was drunk, but she was causing a scene so I wanted to take her somewhere where it wouldn’t cause a commotion. I didn’t want to bring her in here so I just took her to the bathroom” He says, “We got into a bit of an argument, and that’s when you walked in.”

“It’s-“

“She told me she wanted to get back together.” He blurts out, like he was getting something off his chest.

“Oh.” Is your reply.

“Obviously I said no.” He says, almost expectedly. He doesn’t know that the knot that was tightening in your chest loosened a bit at his words. He watches you for a bit before speaking again. “What- what’s on your mind?”

The question catches you off guard. You don’t really know what’s on your mind, the messy twister of thoughts going too fast for you to be able to reach in and grab a coherent thought. Only one thing pops up and you go with it.

“Is this your room?”

Chenle is silent for a second before he says. “Uh, yeah? Yes, it is.”

You hum, laying on your back once again. It’s then that you notice the glow in the dark stars Chenle has stuck to the ceiling of his room, identical to the ones in your own. “You have stars on your ceiling.”

He chuckles embarrassingly, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’ve lived here since I was a kid my grandad put them up there when I was young and I just never got around to taking them down.”

“I have the same ones on mine.”

“Really?” He asks. But he can’t help the shift his heart takes as he thinks of the two of you laying under the same glow in the dark stars every night.

Before he knew it, he was walking towards the light switch and flicking it off. The lights shine to their full potential over you. It eases you a bit, until you feel the bed dip next to you and you smell his close proximity to you, feeling the warmth coming his shoulder where it touches your own as you lay side by side.

The silence is comfortable this time.

“Do you ever have panic attacks?” You ask suddenly.

Chenle shakes his head but remembers you can see him, “No.” He whispers, as if someone would hear him. “But Jisung does sometimes, so I learned some techniques to be able to help him through it.”

You smile into the darkness. “That’s nice of you.” You lower your voice to his whispering tone.

Suddenly words are absent and the two of you just stare at the stars to the ceiling.

You know it’s weird, that after the other night, you are lying in Chenle’s bed beside him like nothing happened. Like you had always been there. You wondered whether you should be glad or scared that you feel that way.

Beside you, Chenle is having his own dilemma. On one part, he feels relieved that you’re safe now, that no one can hurt you now that you’re here with him. He feels comforted that you look so at home in his room, blending in so well it almost sends his head reeling. (Partially the reason he turned off the lights.) On another part, he feels so scared that he wants to think you blend in and that he wants to tell you everything in his head. That he wants to let you in, when he knows he shouldn’t. That he felt concern in his veins when he saw you in such a panicked state earlier, and all he wanted to do was tuck you into his chest and protect you forever.

Why did he want to protect you forever?

He turns on his side, you feel it. His breath fans on the side of your face. You turn to his darkness, staring to where you knew his face would be.

“Can I tell you something?” He says, it’s too late to take it back now, since you nod. “The other night when I ate dinner at your house…” he starts, “I was in such a bad place, And I never thanked you for putting up with me and having me over for dinner, it made me feel so much better, you know before everything blew up in the car.”

You furrow your eyebrows at his words. “That was actually my mom’s doing, but I will make sure to tell her you said so.”

Chenle shakes his head, kissing his teeth. “No, that’s not it. It was because you were there, Y/N.”

You hold your breath when he said that, not replying. Chenle takes his own in an attempt to calm his rapid heart. “Spending time with your family kinda made me feel like I was a part of something special.” He confesses. “Something you were a part of.”

An unsteady exhale tumbles from your lips, his statement doing a number on your heart. “What… what are you trying to say?”

This is it, Chenle. Tell her about the bet, confess what you did and fix everything before things get too serious and you break her heart. Tell her the truth!

‘The truth’ Chenle thinks. ‘Okay.’

“I like you, Y/N.” You don’t see that he is squeezing his eyes shut even if the room is pitch black.

“What?” You say in disbelief, even if the butterflies have already started erupting in your stomach.

“I like you.” He repeats. “So much.”

You stare in his direction in a state of shock and happiness. Meanwhile, Chenle beats himself up in his mind, taking your silence as a bad sign. “It's okay if you don’t want to be a thing or anything, I just thought, you know, since I like you and you like me… Liked? Is that past tense?”

Your head shakes and causes a ruffling noise against his pillow. “No, it’s very much present tense.”

The warmth pressed against your shoulder disappears. And you hear Chenle’s footsteps throughout the room, suddenly the world turns bright and Chenle walks back to the bed. Now with the light on, he can see the blush on your cheeks and the small smile you wear. He smiles back at you, but he feels bad. So, so bad.

So bad that leans down to lay over you, kissing your breath away.

It's only after the momentary surprise that you begin to kiss him back.

His lips are rougher than you thought they would be, but still held some pillow like softness you expected. His hands hold your cheeks as he dips down further to bring his lips closer to yours.

Now you totally understood why everyone was so crazy about kissing. It’s the best thing ever, and you never want it to end. However, breathing becomes an issue when you kiss someone, you learned. Chenle is the first to pull away, keeping his face a barely centimeters from your own, your breaths meet in the middle.

When you finally open your eyes, you are met with Chenle’s worried ones already watching you. You immediately frown.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. Are you a bad kisser? Does your breath smell? Does he regret it? His response is unlike those, shocking you when the words leave his mouth.

“I don’t want to break your heart, Y/N.” He looks away from you. His body is still positioned above you, the position being one that makes it hard to avoid your eyes (and one that is even suggestive). Still he tries his best, that is, until he feels your soft hands cradling his cheeks just as he has been doing to your own just a few minutes ago.

“Chenle, look at me.” You say, though your voice is wavering. He obliges. “Why are you worried about that?”

“I just-” You can tell he would look away if you weren’t holding his head in place, he can’t hide his eyes now. “I’m just afraid I'll do something to hurt you and that you’ll hate me.” He says, which isn’t the whole truth but is also not a lie.

“Why would I hate you? I could never.” Chenle wants to scoff sadly when you say that but you cut him off. “I’ll promise to not break your heart if you promise to not break mine.” You extend your pinky in between your faces.

Chenle winces internally, feeling like he already broke your heart. And he is more scared now that it’s real. That you like each other and this probably makes you guys a thing, that he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings like he knows he will. But he also thinks about the fact that he has never felt this way with anyone else, that you were the first girl he ever felt comfortable enough with to let in his room, that you have glow in the dark stars like him and that it kind of feels like you’re split-aparts that have finally found each other. The longer he could keep you by his side, the better.

That’s when he decides to let himself live in this world, at least while he can. He wraps his pinky around yours and lets your thumbs touch, sealing the deal.

He doesn’t have time to regret his decision because you lean up and catch his lips before he can think of anything but you.

🏀

Two weeks later, and most of your days have been spent much like this one. Chenle’s arms wrap protectively around your middle as you read the messages on your phone. One being a reminder from the president of the student council about the special dress code for Valentine’s Day.

You turn in Chenle’s hold and meet his sleepy eyes, he smiles. “Did you see what the student council is doing?”

“Mm?” He replies, you turn your phone to him. “A dress code?”

“Yep, white for single, pink for complicated, and red for taken.” You say, bringing attention back to you phone. “I’m glad I look good in pink.”

The statement confuses Chenle. “What do you mean pink? What is complicated?”

You startle at the awareness and worry on his voice compared to the sleepy mumbles you were getting just moments ago. “Well… I mean, you never asked me to be your girlfriend.”

Chenle freezes. You were right, he never did because part of the bet was to have a girlfriend by Valentines, it made him feel as though he wasn’t a complete asshole if he hadn’t completed the bet. “You’re right.”

You watch him expectedly, but receive no response. Holding back a sigh, you bring your attention back down to your phone.

“Are you upset with me?” His soft voice meets your ears.

You shake your head. “Of course not, why would I be?”

“It’s not fair to you that I keep you waiting.” None of what I’ve done to you is fair, he thinks.

You reach up and stroke the hair that frames his face, smiling softly. “I’ll wait until you’re ready, Chenle. You know that.”

It scares him how soft you are, how warm and safe he feels when he’s with you. That’s when he decides, it’s best if he waits out this week and lets himself live like this longer, even if it’s for a bit.

“Kiss me.” He whispers. And you do. Pushing your chest flush against his, making sure every part of your body touches his own; remaining like that until you are sure you have blisters lining your lips from how much you’ve kissed him.

The two of you end up hotly panting, you straddled over his lying figure. Chenle looks up at you from where he is before sitting up, suddenly, you feel the warmth of his hands tug at the edge of your shirt. His eyes ask for permission, which you reply to with a nod.

You’re nervous. Very much so. You wonder if this will be the first time you have sex or if anything else will happen.

Chenle lifts your shirt off your head and places it next to your body. “Is this okay?” He asks, his big innocent eyes looking up at you.

“Yes.” Is the only answer you can formulate.

The boy maintains eye contact with you as he says the following words. “Do you want to take off mine?”

Your face flushed red, you can feel it. “I-if that’s okay with you.” His answer is in the form of his hands leading your own to the hem of his shirt, before letting go and putting his arms up. Your hands are shaking as you grab the clothing, slowly pulling it up, exposing his pale abdomen inch by beautiful inch.

You smile at him as his head finally reappears from the whole in his shirt. “Hi.” You say, he smiles.

What he does next is something you didn’t expect from the lead up of events, unlike anything you’ve seen in erotic movie or read about in novels.

He wraps his arms around your waist and pushes you down to lay next to him, he then pulls you towards him so that your the heat of your torso melts into his own. He shuffles until he is as close to you as he can get, only then is when stops moving. Resting his cheek against your own, you feel his breath on your ear.

“I just want to be close to you, to hold you.”

Just like that your heart is full to the brim once again.

It’s the night before Valentine’s Day and Chenle is restless. He had decided tomorrow would be the day he would tell you everything. He would come clean and the two of you would start over (right?). He had practiced what he was going to say for hours earlier that night, wanting to have the perfect words so that his message got across to you. Still, even with all that practice, he knows there’s no guarantee that you won’t hate him. That you will swear him off and never speak to him again, when he has become so fond of you. The thought makes his hands ache and toes curl in an angsty feeling.

After tossing and turning for nearly two hours, he finally gives up on sleeping and opts for looking at the stars stuck to his ceiling. He wonders if you’re awake right now. If you’re thinking about him while looking at your stars. He imagines your messy hair and pajamas and smiles softly to himself. “I miss her.” He says out loud, to the darkness of his room.

Suddenly, everything happens in a flash as he throws his covers off himself and marches to the closet, pulling out his favorite red hoodie, grabbing the Valentine’s Day gift he had gotten you days ago then he’s in his car. Desperate to get where you are.

It’s nearly 1am when you hear the knocking on your window. You had just begun to fall asleep when the noise startled you awake.

Upon inspecting your window cautiously, you gasp when you see Chenle’s blonde hair. The window opens with a click. “Chenle! What are you doing here?”

What is he doing here? “I just wanted to see you.”

His words flutter your heart. “But it’s 1am, on a school night.”

“I know that, I just…” he scratches the back of his neck because in reality he doesn’t know why the hell he even came here in the first place. “I had to give you something.”

He extends the bag in his hand out to you. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

The bag contains two items, the first being the red hoodie you had seen Chenle wear many times before. His smell reeked off of it, causing you to nearly die of delight. “Wear this tomorrow.” He says. “Cause you’re mine.”

You don’t know that his heart hurts for you, he pities you for being the one who causes him to lose all self control and make decisions that will hurt you in the long run. He feels so sorry that he couldn’t wait until tomorrow, that he just wanted you today, now. Before you get the chance to hate him. To run away. He wanted you to be his.

You say nothing to him, only smiling bashfully as your cheeks matched the color of his clothing item. You look into the bag and see a black box that would be the second item. “What’s this?” You say to yourself, smiling up at Chenle. You open the box to reveal a beautiful necklace with a pretty pink diamond hanging off the end. You gasp.

“Chenle, I can't accept that.” You say, closing it. You knew the necklace probably cost more than your house, you felt guilty taking it.

“Please accept it. I bought it for you. I want to see it on you every day.” He seizes the opportunity to reassure himself. “And yes. It cost a lot, so that means we have to continue seeing each other, hm?”

“Chenle…” you say.

“Please.” He says in a way that makes you wonder if this is only about the necklace.

“Okay.”

You pivot and allow him to clip the chain, you turn to him and catch his reaction to the jewelry resting against your upper chest. “How do I look?”

Chenle’s eyes study the necklace before looking into your own. He smiles somewhat sadly as his arm reaches up to stroke your own. “You look beautiful.” He whispers. “Just like I knew you would.”

You can’t put your finger on it, but something about his demeanor is unsettling. “Chenle, is something wrong?” You ask, to which he shakes his head weakly, but the sad look on his face tells you otherwise. You figure it had something to do with his family and refrain from asking. Instead you cup his cheek to provide him comfort, he leans into your touch and shits his eyes momentarily. “I love it. Thank you.” You say in a quiet voice. Chenle watches your features move into a soft smile before impulsively leaning forward to peck your lips.

“I’m so happy.” To be with you, to be yours. “Let's be happy together for a long time, okay?”

You don’t say no.

The next morning you arrive before every other student to school. Chenle’s red sweater rests on your figure as you reach your locker and take out what had been heavy in your mind since last night. The letters. You were going to give them to Chenle and ask him to be your boyfriend. Sure, you were nervous to do so, but you knew Chenle was someone you wanted to have in your life for a long time. That's why you slip the envelopes decorated with his name one by one into the vent of his locker.

You remember thinking this would be the beginning of something great.

You were wrong.

🏀

There’s a pep in your step as you make your way through the halls after school clad in Chenle’s red hoodie, heart eyes searching for the boy.

And for the first time in probably ever, you wished you wouldn’t have found him. You wished you didn’t have to see Chenle pressed up against his locker with his hands resting on Ava’s hips as she kisses him roughly.

“Oh my god.” You say, voice small but enough to catch Chenle’s ear. The boy immediately pushes Ava away from him and turns to the sound of your voice with pleading eyes.

“Y/N-“

“Look who showed up!” Ava interrupts, turning fully towards you. “I was wondering when you were going to come looking for him like you always do, I bet you’re glad it’s over, right Chenle?”

The way the boy looks away from your eyes to shift his guilty gaze to the floor makes you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Chenle what is she talking about?”

When the boy remains silent, Ava’s high pitched voice answers for him. “Well, since he doesn’t seem very talkative right now, I’ll just tell you myself.” She clears her throat, as if setting the scene, your hands are starting to ache. “A month ago, our darling Chenle made a bet with his friends after our break up, you know as boys do, they said he couldn’t get another girlfriend before Valentine’s Day. Obviously, Chenle’s competitive self took that as a challenge and it’s obvious that you had been in love with him for like ever so you were the easiest target.”

The way the world stops spinning isn’t like it’s described in all the romance novels you read, it’s not the good kind that makes you feel like you're floating that nothing could stop you, it’s the kind that weighs you down and makes you feel dizzy, causing you to stumble. This is what you feel when you ask: “Chenle… is this true?” And the boy just stares at you, for a second before looking away once again.

“Of course, it’s true. He was even showing me the pathetic love letters you wrote to him.” She motions to the stack of letters in Chenle’s hands. You gasp, feeling like every last bit of you was torn apart. The thought of them reading the deepest tellings of your heart and laughing at it, all when you wholeheartedly believed that the boy you spoke about in the letters was finally all yours.

When he wasn’t. He was never yours. But he wanted you to think that.

“Oh my god,” you run to him and attempt to rip the letters out of his hands only for him to hold on tighter. “Let go, Chenle.”

“Y/N, please-“

You can’t help the sob that creeps up your throat as your attempt weakly to shake your heart out of his hands. “Please, let go.”

Chenle watches you cry before him and feels like that the act of ripping his actual heart out of his chest would hurt less than this.

You take this moment of weakness and rip the letters out of his grasp, before running down the hall.

It’s only when you feel a hand grasp your shoulder and spin you around that you realize that Chenle has followed you all the way out to the parking lot.

Seeing him caused every bone in your body to ache, and the contractions in your heart were hard to ignore. “Wait, okay? I need to explain somethings to you.”

“I don’t want to hear your explanations! I just want to go home.” You realize that you probably sound like a bratty child but you couldn’t care less.

Chenle nods, “Okay, then let’s go.”

“Not with you.”

Chenle can't help the dagger that the sentence shoots into his heart. “Then I’ll say what I need to say right here!” He exclaims, trying to mask his pain with anger. “It’s true that I made a bet with my friends to date you the day I first drove you home, and it’s really shitty of me, I know. But I had just broken up with Ava and everything was so messy and I just wanted to make her feel bad so I said yes. “ He pauses, “I said yes and so I went to you since I knew you liked me-“

“Jesus,” you wince, embarrassment creeping up your throat and clogging it up. Your eyes water as you think of how truly fucked up the situation is.

That day, one month ago, you were right to question Chenle’s intentions. No, he didn’t admire you or see you the way you saw him, you were just easy bait. And everything has been a lie. “I can’t- I can’t do this.”

Chenle tries to stop the tears of guilt that threatened to leak from the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“No you’re not.” Your bitter words are a shock to Chenle, he had never heard you use that tone with him (or with anyone) before. “You’re not fucking sorry.” Tears of humiliation and frustration run down your face and Chenle wants desperately to cradle your cheeks in his hands, but thinks he might never be able to after this. “It might not have been a big deal to you Chenle, but you were my first kiss, you were the first guy who ever took me on dates and drove me around in his car, you. And I thought you were the first boy who ever liked me.” The smell of him you once loved reeks of the hoodie covering your body, however, instead of feeling welcomed and happy you feel like it’s creeping up the sides of your neck and suffocating you to no end. You groan as you grab the hem of the article and rip it off your body, leaving you in a flimsy t-shirt to combat the winter cold.

Chenle sighs, “I know you’re mad at me but you’re going to get sick if you walk home like that. It’s cold.”

You scoff in response, “Lucky for you then, because you don’t need to worry about me anymore.” In a quieter voice you say. “I was probably just a burden to you this whole time.”

The boy immediately opposes the statement, “You were never a burden, I liked hanging out with you. I care about you.”

“Only because it helped you win that stupid bet, and to make your ex jealous!” You exclaim, finally looking into his sorry eyes. He looks tired, you almost falter in your stance before putting up the wall separating you two that had always been there before the day he drove you home.

You wished he had never approached you, because the Chenle in your dreams would never do this to you.

It’s in that moment that you feel the weight of the dove on your neck, your finger move to unhinge it as you place it on top of the hoodie resting against his chest. You watch his jaw tense as he looks at you. You make eye contact one last time with the blonde haired boy in front of you, Before sadly turning away.

“Y/n please,” it’s the weakest you’ve ever heard his usually booming voice. “Don’t leave me like this. What about our promise, huh? You’re breaking my heart right now.” Chenle knows the attempt to get you to stay is pathetic and desperate but he’s at a loss of what to do.

Angrily, you spit. “You broke my heart the moment you approached me that day so I guess that promise was made to be broken wasn’t it?”

Chenle watches you walk away with your arms wrapped tightly around your shaking body. He sees as you walk past a trash can and dump all your letters into it, wiping your tears and starting your journey to the bus stop.

And he would never share this with you, walks up the trash can with tears in his eyes and reaches into the garbage, picking out every letter in there. He figures it’s the only piece of your heart he can manage to save for himself. It’s proof that the hate you now hold in your heart for him was once love.

Even if he ruined everything.

You never knew they called it heartbreak because your chest physically hurts this much. At times you feel like throwing up, at others you want to throw all your belongings across your room. The pain was almost unbearable at the beginning, embarrassing and hot flashes of anger running through you constantly as you think back to that moment.

You don’t go to school that Monday, telling your mom you were feeling sick. Which isn’t entirely a lie, especially when you see Chenle’s car pull up outside your house that morning. You feel like throwing up again. You’re angry at him. So so angry that he thinks things will be the same after what he did. That he thinks he can pull up at your house and drive you around after completely breaking your heart.

You pull the blinds down as your mom comes through your door. “Honey, Chenle is here.”

“Tell him to leave.” You seeth, tears running down your face. You wipe them away frustratedly. “Tell him to never come back here, Mom.”

Your mother watches with sad, sympathetic eyes. Before nodding solemnly and closing the door on her way out.

Due to a strange urge, you peek through the blinds and wait to see him walk out your driveway. He does, dragging his feet. Much to your dismay, he stops suddenly and turns to face your window. You immediately step away in the darkness of your room, away from the light and Chenle’s eyes.

Three weeks pass, things at school remain the same for the most part. You hang out with Donghyuck like you used to. You try your best to not look over at the athletes table even when you feel Chenle’s eyes on you. However, somethings do change, you no longer spend your class time daydreaming about a certain blonde boy, or writing love letters on the back pages of your notebook about how pretty his eyes look when they catch the light. Instead, you stare out the window of your classrooms, wanting nothing more than to be in your room away from everyone once again. You sigh and look away from the window momentarily before looking up again. You startle as you see Chenle on the other side of the glass. Watching you with eyes that looked like they had a lot to say. You shudder when you take in the bag under his eyes and exhaustion written all over his face. You want to believe it’s because of you, you hope it is. You hope he can’t sleep at night thinking of you. Nevertheless, you remember what happened on Valentine’s Day and realize you were probably too insignificant to him to have caused him to be this way.

He softly smiles at you, bringing his hesitant hands up to wave at you, only for you to avert your eyes away from him and to the teacher at the front of the room.

Chenle looks down dejectedly before continuing his walk, meanwhile you sit at your desk, wanting to escape more than ever.

Three days later, your mother informs you that you have a visitor. “Tell him I don’t want to see him.”

“It’s not Chenle.” She says before confusedly adding: “He said his name is Jisung.”

Jisung? What the hell is he doing here? “I’ll be down in a minute.”

When you finally get down stairs Jisung smiles awkwardly at you before gesturing towards the door. “Do you like milkshakes?”

“What is this about?”

The words that say heavy on your tongue the whole car ride here finally leave you as you sit across Jisung at Billy’s. He sips his milkshake before clearing his throat to speak. “How have you been?”

You’ve been really shitty. “I’ve been fine, I guess.”

Jisung hums, rubbing his hand together before sighing. “I guess we should just get straight to the point, then.” He pauses, “Have you spoken to Chenle recently?”

While you figured this meeting had something with Chenle, you still sit up straighter when you hear his name. You clear your throat as if this is a kind of declaration. “No. I haven’t spoken to him since Valentine’s day.” You don’t want to ask about him, so you try the next best thing. “Why- why do you ask?”

“I haven’t seen him since last week.” Jisung says, something in your stomach doesn’t sit right. “He’s been missing practice, which he never did, and he’s not answering any of my messages or calls. And the pre-final game is tomorrow and no one has heard from him.”

His words are bazar. Basketball is unarguably the most important thing in Chenle’s life, why would he risk this chance of winning the championship like this? “He hasn’t spoken to me either, sorry.” You say, but your mind is fogged with worry as to where the boy could be. Jisung remains silent for some time before he clicks his tongue.

“I know what happened between you two.” You avoid his gaze and feel blood rush to your cheeks. “And I think you’re right for not talking to him after that.”

How could he say that about his best friend? Still, you nod. “But I think you only know a part of what’s really going on here.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, yeah. The whole thing started as a bet, but after a few weeks Chenle told me that something changed. He said he didn’t want to do the bet anymore, that he felt guilty for using you like that because he ended up really really liking you Y/N and I’m not just saying this because he is my best friend or anything but I think when the time is right, you should give him a chance.”

You finally look up at him and realize upon feeling a tear trail down your face that you were crying. You wipe it away quickly and sigh. “I don’t know, Jisung. He really hurt me, I was so embarrassed I felt like I could die.”

“Sometimes we make stupid decisions.” The ‘we’ reminds you of the story of Jisung and his girlfriend’s love story that Chenle animatedly told you about one night you stayed at his house. You remember wondering how someone as sweet as Jisung could do any of those things, and how his girlfriend could forgive him for any of it.However, you knew the love they had for each other in their hearts was more than the anger due to his actions. You wonder if the attachment you have for Chenle would ever be enough.

Jisung reads your mind. “I think he loves you.”

Your eyes become wide as planets before you scoff in disbelief. “Don’t say that.” You say, weak hearted.

“He does! While you two were still a thing he wouldn’t stop talking about how cute you were, how good you are at basketball and how you have the same glow in the dark stars on your ceiling that he does.”

What? You didn’t think cared enough to talk about you or to remember those details. “He told you that?”

Jisung nods, “And a lot of other things, but I don’t think we’ll have the time.”

“He… he never told me he loved me.” You thought Chenle had just come into your life as a lesson to always be on your guard, to never let anyone in and protect yourself above others. But now… you wonder if you meant more to Chenle than you thought.

“Take it from me,” Jisung says, “sometimes those 8 letters can be the hardest to say.”

🏀

Once you’ve parted ways with Jisung, (who offered to drive you home to which you politely declined to, telling him the walk home would give you time to think) you make your way home on your dirty sneakers and think about what Jisung said.

It’s hard to believe that Chenle would actually say those things about you, while knowing he was playing you. You wondered if it really did change for him like Jisung said, and if he really felt sorry like he was telling you that day in the parking lot.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t realize the familiar car parked in front of your house until you hear the voice your heart has been longing to hear for weeks now. “Is Y/N home?”

You bolt to the nearest bush and duck behind it, close enough to hear their words but far enough that Chenle and your conflicted mother are unaware of your presence. “Oh, I’m sorry sweetie she went out a few hours ago.”

“Oh.” You flinch when you hear the disappointment in his voice. “Can you tell her I stopped by?” And that I miss her, he wants to say but you don’t know that. “And please give this to her too if it’s not too much trouble.” You hear shuffling as Chenle hands whatever it is he wanted to give you to your mom.

“I will, sweetie.” Your mom says. “And Chenle?” There's a pause in which he hums. “Get some sleep, honey.”

You can imagine that Chenle throws her his signature polite smile, “I will try, Ma’am.”

It’s not longer after that you hear his sneakers against the steps of your porch and see him get into his car. You have a perfect view of him from where you are. Watching as he frustratedly runs his hands through his hair and throws his head back against the seat. You don’t know why you feel sorry for him. You know you should be angry but after what Jisung told you, you need to stop yourself from going to him.

You contemplate if even looking inside the bag is a decision.

It sits in front of you neatly on your bed where you had placed it after your mother handed it to you with a worried: “He looks so tired, Y/N.” Which caused hurt to arise in your heart.

The bag is a bright red one, the type that usually is full of candies and sweets, maybe flowers. You want to know what is inside manically, but you're afraid about what this would mean for your relationship (if you could even call it that) with Chenle. Is this his final goodbye or is this him trying to get you back?

You had to know.

Upon opening it, you are shocked to see a pale yellow envelope with your name written in Chenle’s messy handwriting on top. You grab it with shaky hands, the texture is different somehow, because for the first time ever, this letter was meant for you.

Inside, there is a loose leaf paper much like the ones you had sent to him neatly folded. Your heart beats in your ear as you finally see the first words, you breathe in deeply and read away.

“Y/N,

I thought for a long time about what I would say to you in this letter, I’ve been sitting on it for three weeks trying to find the right things to say that would convince you to forgive me before I realized that they all sounded tacky and cliche when I read them back. So, i’ve decided to just go with the truth. It’s true that at first I wasn't honest with you, that I only approached you to complete a dare my friends had given me that day and I won’t make any excuses because I was such a huge asshole to you. I was just so hurt that day because of Ava and I wanted to make her feel like shit so bad, I wanted to hurt her like she had hurt me and I used you to do so, Y/N. But after I approached you and started spending time with you,I started thinking back to all the times I would look at you when the sun came in through the window in the English classroom before I had even spoken a word to you. I bet you didn’t know I did that, did you?”

You didn’t, the you at that time would’ve freaked out if she knew though.

“I remember thinking you were so pretty, that you were untouchable to me so i just never tried. But something changed when i got to know you, i realized that you were the coolest person i’ve ever met, that you were real and that you were there with me whenever i needed someone. No one has ever made me feel so safe and comforted. I became selfish with you because I never wanted it to end. I didn’t want to tell you because i was scared you would hate me do you hate me? The night before valentines i went to your house because i planned on telling you everything the next day, i wanted to see your happy eyes just once more just in case i ruined everything. On Valentine’s day, when i got to school and read your letters. You wouldn’t believe how happy I was to read all the wonderful things you said about me. I was so happy that you held me as close to your heart as I held you to my own. I was going to tell you everything after that, i was going to confess and tell you that i couldn’t go another day with this secret. I was going to tell you how i felt but Ava stopped me, she told me she knew about the bet and then she kissed me and that's when you showed up. I’m so sorry you had to see that, I’m so that i used you like that. I’m sorry that I took advantage of you but I want you to know that I meant everything I told you, I loved spending time with you, and being with your family made me feel so special. I remember thinking we were split aparts and i know that sounds stupid but i really want you to know that i meant it. And every kiss we shared and every time I held you I felt it and I really really really mean it when i say that i loved you. I loved you so much that I didn't ever want to lose you.”

The past tense makes your chest tighten.

“I won’t tell you to forgive me, but your spot on the bleachers looks so empty without you. The pre finals are tomorrow and i would love it if you came, to cheer me on like you used to. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to but I wanted to give you something that would portray how serious I am about this. That if you are willing to come cheer me on with a part of me with you.”

This when you reach into the bag and pull out the item that once laid underneath your letter. The 22 of Chenle’s basketball jersey stares back at you, you gasp as you hold the fabric in your fingers. You had watched him run around the court with this very jersey plenty times before, you knew how much being number 22 meant to him. You were grateful he would trust you so important to him, you really wanted to grab his face and tell him that. Instead, you finish reading the letter.

“You make me feel brave. And I will forever be sorry for what I did to you, but I mean it when I say I loved you I still love you.

Please come. - Zhong Chenle.”

He loves you! Present tense. You could almost jump from joy. You want to see him, tell him you love him too. A million times if you can. You want to say that you forgive him for everything, that you have felt incomplete without him these past few weeks and the Chenle you made up in your mind was too perfect anyway.

Chenle sighs for the upteenth time the next afternoon as he stretches along with his teammates. He tries his best to take his mind off of you for the time being, at least until after the game is over, he needed to focus but he found it very hard when he began to wonder what was going through your head when you read his letter, and if you were coming today.

He startles when he feels a hand on his shoulder. Hopeful, he turns. His hopefulness fades away when he sees Jisung standing before him.

“Damn don’t look too sad to see me.” He jokes. Chenle shakes his head

“It’s not that…” Chenle explains, biting his lip nervously and subconsciously looks toward the bleakers where your empty seat was. Jisung gets the hint.

“Chenle,” he says. “It's okay, she’ll come.”

Chenle wants to ask him how he is so sure, that if he were you, he would hate himself too. Instead, he nods at him and readjusts the waistband of his shorts on his hips as the coach calls for the team to step out onto the court.

People immediately start cheering for the players as they come into the view, girls go crazy in the stands and the members’ friends and families cheere enthusiastically from the side lines. The players smile and wave at their ‘fans’ doing a lap around the court to warm up and high five audience members.

Chenle can only bring himself to smile half heartedly and wave weakly due to the fact that your spot on the bleachers still remains empty.

He sighs out again, puffing his cheeks as the referee finally calls for the first round. That’s when his adrenaline starts pumping and he feels a bit better.

The game goes on.

Chenle’s jersey is only a bit big on you, almost fitting like something that would be your size, still, you try to pull it down over your hips in a nervous habit. You finally made it to the game, having fun late due to traffic. The spot you usually sit in is occupied by a woman holding a baby, so you decide to stay and watch from the sidelines, standing.

The first time you see him, he is running across the court so fast he becomes a blur. You only know it’s him because of the head of blonde hair you see in the blurry image. He looks breathtaking as always, his hair being pushed away from his face by a sweat band being an addition to his look you wouldn’t mind seeing again.

His sneakers squeak against the floor as he gets in position to shoot. You cross your fingers, but something is off. His eyebrows are furrowed in something that doesn’t look like concentration, but more like worry. His legs give him the impulse to jump up and soon enough his arms are shooting the ball towards the basket. You watch in disappointment as it hits against the rim and bounces back at him, he catches it with a frustrated click of his teeth.

The audience has already begun whispering, having never seen the star player miss a shot.

One of his teammates comes up to give him a fist bump of comfort, Chenle accepts it but still holds a troubled look on his face. The thought crosses your mind that it might be because of you, it troubles the organ in your chest as much as it warms it. You notice he keeps glancing at a certain part of the bleachers, this is when you know he meant everything and that he surely is waiting for you.

“Chenle!” You yell, trying to get his attention.

The boy doesn’t look your way, your voice getting lost in constant shouts and chatter from the people in the crowd. You try again, louder this time. Nothing.

You groan frustratedly, the boy continues the game the best he can, but he’s out of it. You hate to see him like this, a deep hurt in your chest rising up. You cheer for him as loud as you can, deciding it would be better to wait until after the game to see him.

As the game is coming to an end, Chenle appears to grow more and more tired and absent. Nevertheless, his team scores the winning point and the audience goes wild, including you. Chenle smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You can’t wait to hold him and tell him you forgive him for everything and that everything is going to be okay, and be with him for real this time. To have him be yours and be best friends against, go on nightly drives and have impromptu dance parties, to lay on his bed and count the plastic stars on his ceiling, to kiss him and be close to him.

And for it to be real.

🏀

Chenle can’t help but feel dejected when your seat was never taken by you. He should’ve known this would happen, that is true but there was a fraction of him that thought you would read his letter and realize how sincere he was, he thought there was a part of you that knew it had been real and there was no way everything he said could've been made up. But he was wrong, and now as he packs his gym bag to go home, he faces the consequences of his high hopes.

He’s mad, practically throwing his belongings in his bag, he almost throws his phone in the trash can next to him when he hears the ringtone go off. Chenle answers it with an irritated, “What?”

“Hey.” He recognizes your voice that same instant, still he pulls his phone back and makes sure its your caller ID before speaking again.

“Y/N? Oh my god, hi!” He clears his throat before repeating himself. “I mean, hi, hey.”

You hold back a laugh, noting his nervousness. “I’m sorry for calling so suddenly.” You decide to tease him, although, unbeknownst to him, you wear standing about 20 feet behind him after finally finding him in the now that the crowd of people has dispersed after the game.

“No, don’t worry about it. I was actually…” Chenle flicks the zipper of his bag with his nervous fingers, “I was waiting to hear from you.”

“Were you?”

“Yeah, I wanted a chance to talk things out with you and uhh… i'm sorry if me asking you to come out to the game was too much or if it made you uncomfortable I didn’t-“

“Chenle.” Your voice cuts his rant short. You internally marvel at the fact that you aren’t the one caught in a nervous ramble for once. “It didn’t make me uncomfortable. I’m here.”

“You’re here?” Someone clicks in his mind as he frantically looks around him in an effort to find you. When he does, his eyes turn soft and a smile takes over his face. “You came.”

You nod at him, feeling a bit overwhelmed when you finally make eye contact with him. There are people between you too, Chenle begins to close it as he walks forward. “I did. I just wanted to tell you that I missed you.”

“I missed you more, I swear on it.” He replies.

Your eyes burn, you wipe them and lighten the mood. “And that Curry would be sad to see you so out of it at a game.” You click your teeth jokingly. “What do you think he would say if he saw you like that cause of a girl?”

He laughs, “I think he would understand, after I tell him how amazing you are.”

You blush. “I also wanted to tell you that your jersey smells like you, and I like it.” This makes him beam, speeding up his footsteps that carry him to you.

“Is that it?” He asks, jokingly.

“And that I love you, Zhong Chenle. Not the Zhong Chenle that I had a crush on for 3 years and not Number 22 but you. The rawest versions of you. I love all of it and that i forgive you for everything.” He slows his pace in shock, his chest heaving.

“You mean that?” His voice is wavering and you can see the flush on his cheeks from how close he has gotten. Suddenly, he is taking big steps until he is directly in front of you. He puts his phone down and his pretty eyes look directly into your own.

Chenle’s face is hopeful, happy and lovestruck. He whispers: “You love me?”

You can only nod, overwhelmed. Chenle smiles wide, you can almost see his molars and his eyes disappear. “Say it.” He says, in a wondrous tone.

“I love you, Zhong Chenle.”

“Oh my god, yes!”

And he’s kissing you, arms wrapping around you and pressing your body against his, his finger grip at the jersey on your body and he moves his lips against yours. Every memory that you have ever shared, every kiss, every touch, and every laughing fit come to your mind. It’s all you can think about as you think about this boy. You don’t think about the bad part, because that doesn’t matter anymore now that Chenle is yours and you are never letting go.

4 months later; Graduation

“Chenle! Come on!” Jisung yells as he sees the boys floppy newly dyed orange hair amongst the crowd of people.

You were all posed for a picture, blue cap and gowns adorning your bodies and your parents huddle you together for a picture. “I’m coming!”

Your boyfriend appears from the crowd with his cap in his hand along with a giant bouquet of flowers. He walks directly to you, extending it with a smile. “For you.”

Your friends start squealing, playful hitting you and Chenle and your parents smirk at each other at the portrayal of young love before them. You cover your face with your hands to hide your blush. Chenle laughs and hugs you to his side.

“Y/N! Chenle! Pose for the picture!”

The two of you run to where your other friends are posing, haphazardly getting into the frame and posing crazily.

The air is full of laughter and youth as the sun begins to set on your time in high school. For a moment, you’re too busy basking in the presence of the relationships you have developed while in there that you forget you won’t be seeing these people every day like you had been for so many years. Or that your lives might take completely different courses and things won’t be the same after this. Instead you allow yourself to enjoy this moment.

🏀

You do think about it when you are on your way home though, in the passenger’s seat of Chenle’s car. His hand holds yours over the gear and he smiles to himself while humming along to the songs on the radio, unaware of the internal conflict going on in your head.

It wasn’t until he parks outside your house that he realizes that something is wrong.

“What is going to happen to us now?” Is your reply to his questioning. Chenle’s eyebrows furrow.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean-“ you collect your thoughts, “high school is over, and we’re going to go to college and we will be so busy and what if-“

“Whatever you think will happen, won’t happen.”

You look at him, offended that he could dismiss your worries so easily. “You don’t un-“

“I do understand. You’re worried that now that we won’t see each other every day that we’re going to drift apart, right? And that we won’t be together, am I right?”

You nod silently.

“Y/N, how many times am I going to tell you that I’m crazy in love with you? I won’t let you slip out of my hands, baby. Not again.” Chenle says firmly, sincerely. His eyes widen so you can see right through him and know he is telling the truth.

His pale hands come up to cup the sides of your face, making you face him. Your tear filled eyes meet his own. He brushes away your tear that rolls down your cheek. “I’m sorry, I was just overthinking.” You say.

“Don’t be sorry.” Chenle shakes his head, leaning forward to kiss your cheek lovingly, letting it linger for a few seconds before pulling back. Smiling upon seeing your smiling face.

It happens in a flash, now that the moment was right. Chenle gasps, starling you. “What?! What’s wrong?!”

“I love this song!” And he’s turning it up all the way on the car radio, rolling down the windows and stepping out. “Come on, Y/N!”

You don’t let him see the pure happiness on your face that you wanted to mask with annoyance. Chenle dances on the sidewalk crazily and you laugh in the passenger’s seat. You decide it was best to not let your boyfriend embarrass himself alone, wiping the excess of your tears and step out of the car. “M’lady has arrived to the dance party!” He exclaims.

And as you start dancing wildly together, the sun begins to set causing a golden hue to fall over your features. Anyone watching the scene could either think that you’re crazy or they will see what is really there: split aparts that have finally found one another.

Chenle thinks so too, he stops dancing for a bit to catch his breath and just watches you. He remembers the pain it took to make you his, how much you both cried and the beginning of the relationship was far from ideal. But there is no doubt in his mind that there are not enough glow in the dark ceiling stars in this world that will amount to the love he harbors for you in his chest. He was so happy that he had met his split apart, he couldn’t thank the universe enough.

This when he reaches forward and spins you around to face him. His chest against your own, you feel the rumble of his words from his chest when he says: “I’m so glad I found you.” And then he is kissing you, and the ground seems to melt away from your feet. You’re floating hundreds of feet in air and forget to take a view of your neighborhood from up here because Chenle is all you can think about. Because he makes you feel this way. You whisper in between kisses, he smiles knowingly, he feels it too.

“We.

Are.

Off.

Our.

Feet.”

1K notes · View notes

justletmeplayminecraft · 4 years

Text

xisuma doesn’t smooth over a server glitch fast enough. the others have to save him from the consequences.

in this fic, i play loosely with minecraft mechanics to create angst. very loosely. don’t think too much about ‘em. you can also date how long i’ve spent on this by the projects they’re working on.

featuring: being an admin gives you a connection to the server, xisuma has a less than stellar day, angst/comfort, zed is an ender hybrid, false & tango are minor admins, getting stuck in blocks is not a fun experience, the hermits care a lot about each other.

warnings: sensory deprivation, starvation, suffocation, its a death loop babyyy, a fair amount of panic, fighting code, glitches, helplessness, it’s pretty whumpy before the comfort. let me know if something’s missing here.

also on ao3. link in replies.

Xisuma sighs as the sun beats down on him. It's barely let up, even on the outskirts of the jungle. He enjoys the brief stints in the shadow of the giant quartz walls. Even then, waves of heat come off them. All of the structures in his base are a heat trap. Clearing out several layers of dirt and stone is a necessity he should've left for another day. With a click, he tugs his helmet off his head. The humidity outside is worse than his filtered air. He tucks the helmet under his arm, pushing sweat slicked hair from his face.

He's made good progress levelling this arena space. He leaves his helmet on his bed and heads to the temporary storage chests. They're filling up quickly, he notices, as he starts emptying his inventory into them. Except, something's broken. The stacks of blocks aren't all moving. He tries a few times before sighing, ruffling his hair. When he turns to the area he's been mining, it's still empty. It's been a long time since they've had desync this bad. He's not even sure when it started.

Stepping gently across the stone, he can feel the heat rising from them. He'll rollback the world and then he'll relax by Keralis's river. The farm is delightfully cool. Anything will be better than this oppressive heat.

He's almost reached his bed when something takes hold in his chest and pulls.

He stumbles forward with a gasp. Of course, the server decides to fix itself this time. He forces his feet forward, trying to reach his helmet so he can smooth things over. He only makes it two steps until his eyes are forced shut as the server reloads. For a split second, all he feels is the chill of the void as chunks reload around him.

He opens his eyes to darkness. It feels like he's suspended in space, unable to move. There's a suffocating pressure around him. Though it's with shallow breaths, he can still breathe. Did something go wrong? He blinks hard. All of his limbs are accounted for, he's certainly present. Even when he's working in the void there are still particles around him. His attempt to raise his arm fails, finding it impossible to open his back up admin panel. His helmet is- where even is his helmet?

His breath hitches, a feeling of panic escaping his controlled calm. He feels like he can't breathe. He can't move. He's trapped in his own body.

What's happening?

[MumboJumbo] anybody else just experience some major desync?

[Keralis1] Oh, is that what that was?

[Zedaph] I had nearly finished my redstone! All of that work, gone!

[FalseSymmetry] didn't you notice you weren't actually... losing anything from your inventory?

[Tango] he was probably too caught up in his supposed mastery

[FalseSymmetry] everybody okay though?

[Grian] all good here!

[Zedaph] Only my pride's wounded.

False looks down at the bedrock layer at her base. Like half an hour spent placing glass, all gone to waste. She groans, closing her chat as it pings away. Sure, she can rib Zedaph, but that doesn't change the fact she just did the exact same thing. She kicks off the sidewalk, gliding to the bedrock layer. She can feel the cold of the void float up with specks of grey.

"Good going, False," she murmurs. Some patches of glass survived. It's almost worse, that's going to be so much less satisfying to fill in. She takes her goggles off, tugging her hair loose to tie it in a low ponytail. Usually Xisuma gives them a warning before the server resets like that. It always messes up her hair, leaves it floaty and static.

She adjusts her goggles on her head, opening the player menu. Xisuma's currently online. She checks chat. He hasn't said anything. She considers it strange, but it's not unusual. Maybe he's been at a farm and isn't AFKing. She types out a private message, sending it across to him.

[FalseSymmetry to Xisuma] hey x, server blipped, might need to check it when you get back.

She'll see if he returns her message. She's got glass to place.

Iskall looks through his in-progress sorting system with a frown. It's broken somewhere. The stupid server reload has glitched it out and he can't find how. He's checked the redstone, he's checked the hoppers and he's checked the chests! Which means it's glitched. Either Xisuma reloads the chunk for him, or he's going to have to tear it down.

Actually, he'll probably have to tear it down anyway. Reloading the chunk will only roll it back.

At least he's not the only person who's redstone has been ruined. The thought brings some comfort. If he has to be miserable, somebody else should be too. He opens his communicator, checking who's around at the moment. That might take his mind off it.

He notices that Xisuma's online. Their admin has been quiet in chat since the reload. Maybe there's something going on behind the scenes he's having to sort out. He'll reach out to Mumbo and Grian, but first, he sends a message X's way.

[iskall85 to Xisuma] hey is everything alright? nothing broke?

[iskall85 to Xisuma] don't forget you can reach out to us if you need help.

He has no idea how much time has passed. Usually he's connected intrinsically to the server. It helps him keep track of the world, dig out any errors or mishaps - sometimes before his suit alerts him. It's essential for his job in order to keep things running smoothly. The server is always there, at the edges of his consciousness.

In this nothing, he can't even keep track of his internal clock. Perhaps it's his own panic, but the code he tries to reach out to feels fuzzy. It feels like it's glitching, sending shooting pains through his head if he focuses too hard. He couldn't take a guess how long he's been trapped. His breathing still comes too fast and shallow, ignoring his attempts to calm down.

He's completely helpless here. And he doesn't even know where here is.

Tango stares up at the stars on his ceiling. He checks his inventory again, counting aloud. He flicks it off with a frown. Yeah, he's definitely missing some. It's not a massive deal, Impulse will be happy to help out. But if he's having problems then some of the other hermits might be. Perhaps they fell and despawned in the reload. Either way.

"Tangoooooo!" The cry is accompanied by several rockets, something hitting the ground and the sound of damage. He chuckles, stepping away as Zed soars over the edge, stumbling forward with a flutter of his elytra. Tango straightens him up with his free hand.

"No, I'm not doing your redstone for you." Zedaph gasps, dusting off his jeans. He bounces up with a grin.

"You really think I'd come all this way for that?" Zed questions.

"So why have you come all the way here?"

"I'm bored," Zed replies. "And it still stings too much to do my redstone again." Tango laughs, opening up his chat. Xisuma's online, though Tango doesn't expect an immediate response.

"How do you feel about some wither grinding?" He types a message to Xisuma, Zedaph attempting to peer over his shoulder.

"Mmm, I don't see why not."

[Tango to Xisuma] Hey, seem to have lost some stars when the server reset

[Tango to Xisuma] might wanna check nothing important got eaten.

"Right, let's go."

Keralis hums, staring at the plot he was about to start building on. The area has been a bit... Funny. He'll break and replace a block, only to have it switch again. He might have to work on another area until it sorts itself out. His attempts at working here started after the reload, so he doesn't know if that caused it. He's not been able to spot Xisuma nearby either. He's been online, but Keralis hasn't spotted him in chat for a while.

He sighs as he watches the last blocks he placed switch back as if nothing happened. Crossing his arms, he examines the area. He wonders how big this is. Definitely more than one chunk. His new house is going to have to wait. He was excited to show Xisuma around, too.

With a glance at the sky, he realises it's late afternoon. He yawns, stretching his back out. Perhaps it'll be best to settle in his office and work on some future designs. He'll drop a message in chat first, in case this is affecting anyone else. It might give him an excuse to hunt down Shishwamy. He always feels guilty bothering him about things. Their admin takes far too much responsibility on his shoulders. They’re all adults. Keralis wishes he’d ask for help sometimes.

[Keralis1] Has anyone else been having glitchy blocks?

[iskall85] some of my redstone is broken but it's no biggie

[Tango] lost some of my nether stars with the reload but it's been fine since.

[FalseSymmetry] been placing glass without any problems since the reset

[MumboJumbo] I haven't had any problems either.

[Keralis1] A bunch of chunks around our bases are glitching

[Keralis1] but it seems like Shishwamy is busy :(

[Grian] well it looks like he just went afk

[iskall85] that answers that lol

His mind is becoming blurry. It's hard to focus on... Anything. He can't tell if it's because he's struggling to breathe, or something further, tugging him down and away. He tries to fight against it but there's nothing he can do to stay present. He can't hear anything, barely even his shallow breaths. He can only feel the consistent pressure on every inch of his body, the wet tears on his cheeks. He tries pulling on every one of his senses, but nothing comes up.

He slips under.

False empties the last of this glass stack, stepping back at a job well done. She smiles, rubbing her aching hands. It's nice to finally work on this part of her base. Even better now it's not going to pick itself up. At least she hopes so. She'll be right annoyed if it happens again. Something's been tingling at the back of her head, though. She wonders if it's because of the reset.

She looks up at the late afternoon sky. That's enough work for today. As she stretches, she can feel each and every ache in her body. She brushes away her hair, already falling loose. Maybe she'll have something nice for dinner. Some steak, potatoes and pumpkin pie. If she has pumpkin, of course. Xisuma was planning to build a pumpkin farm, wasn't he? His traditional pumpkin and melon combination. She chuckles to herself as she pulls out her rockets.

No matter how things change from season to season, there will always be things that don't. Hermits might come and go, but they'll always be her family.

She launches up, shooting through the water barrier. It's fast enough it doesn't stick. She lands gracefully, making her way to the kitchen. She hopes this nudging in her head doesn't get worse. She just wants to enjoy a nice meal. That's all.

"Well, I think we have a plan," Grian declares, grinning from his perch. His legs are crossed, hands resting in his lap.

"I mean, we didn't exactly need a plan to fix our redstone," Mumbo replies, slouched in his chair the way he only ever does in front of them. Iskall chuckles, resting his hands behind his head. They've really helped take his mind off the broken redstone. Mumbo had a similar problem, so tomorrow they'll meet up again and attempt some fixes.

"Always helps," Iskall says, shrugging. "Especially when one of us spends so much time in the Nether depths, now." Grian laughs, his legs kicking.

"Hey, I'm doing good work out there!" Mumbo yawns, looking between them.

"Well I don't know about you two, but I'm exhausted."

"Food then sleep?" Grian suggests. Iskall nods. It's been a long day.

It's dark as Zedaph and Tango return from The End. Zedaph yawns, running a hand through his hair, messing it up. Tango rubs the side of his own hair. Something's been bothering him, but he can't tell what. Like there's something just not... Right. Zedaph is chatting beside him, a bounce in his step. It's like he doesn't feel it at all.

"Do you want to have dinner together?" Zed asks, twirling his sword by his side. They've repaired their tools, done everything properly. It's been a hard day's work, but they've achieved a lot, even with the setback.

"Yeah, dinner sounds good." He looks at the night sky, squinting his eyes. Zedaph tilts his head at him. The purple eyes are concerned, particles floating up in his worry.

"Tango, are you okay? You seem... Off." Tango sighs, waving Zedaph's worry away.

"Something's nagging me. It's not a big deal." Zedaph's still frowning, but the particles die down.

"Let's just get you something to eat, yeah?" Tango nods, leaning into Zedaph when he squeezes his shoulder.

"Sounds good to me."

Keralis watches the night sky overhead. He's sat in the doorway to his office, a blanket around his shoulders. The stars are always a beautiful sight. It's the perfect way to relax after such a, hm, busy day. Not busy in a conventional sense, no, but still busy. His specially commissioned noteblock song plays in the background, a perfect accompaniment in the peaceful night. He thinks it's strange how the stars always seem the same no matter what world they're in. Maybe he should ask Xisuma about it in the future.

He pops up his screens open. Xisuma is still afk. He misses seeing his neighbour out and about. Xisuma often spends time at his farms, it's nothing new. But Keralis enjoys saying hello to him! Especially after missing well... Years of his life. He tries not to think about that.

With a sigh, he lies against the doorway. Time for bed soon. He laughs at the sound of Bubbles' voice in his head. His communicator beeps and he glances over to it.

Huh. That's interesting.

Xisuma is thrown into full consciousness. His stomach is still cramping with phantom hunger. He opens his eyes and finds...

Black.

No, no, he died. He died. Why has he respawned here? He chokes on his sob, realising no air is entering his lungs. His cheeks are still wet with tears, more leaking out as he gasps at nothing. His lungs burn, unable to take the shallow breaths he needs to. Would it even help? He wants to curl up, clutch at the growing pain in his chest. But he can't move an inch. Heaviness sinks into his limbs and head.

He wakes again in the same place. He doesn't know if he wants to scream or cry. There's not enough air for him to scream, anyway.

[Xisuma starved to death]

[MumboJumbo] X?? mate?

[Tango] X?

[FalseSymmetry] do we need to get your stuff?

[Keralis1] I'm by his base.

[Tango] he's not afk anymore

[Grian] x???????

[iskall85] maybe he's getting his stuff rn

[Keralis1] Shishwammmmyyyyyyy

[MumboJumbo] starving isn't a nice way to go

[Zedaph] It really isn't.

[Xisuma suffocated]

[iskall85] oh no

[FalseSymmetry] x???? im going over

[Keralis1] so am i

[Tango] this isn't right, this really isn't right

[Xisuma suffocated]

[Grian] what's going on???

False shimmies back into her elytra, reaching for the one jacket potato that finished cooking. So much for having a sit-down meal. She rubs her head, pushing away the fear that has something to do with this. Her communicator continues beeping as she grabs her rockets. She runs to the entrance, kicking off and launching into the air.

"We should go and help," Iskall decides, already picking up his armour.

"Thought you'd never say." Mumbo straps his elytra on, grabbing a spare shulker box and an ender chest. Grian nods with a seriousness that doesn't fit on his face.

"Let's go."

"We're going?" Zed asks. He's already stuffing food into his mouth. Tango rubs his temples, nodding. He takes the elytra that's thrusted into his hand.

"Yeah. We're definitely going." He watches the particles floating off Zed in waves, glowing the same purple as his pupils. Tango presses his eyes shut against another spike of pain as their communicators beep. "C'mon."

Keralis scrabbles until he balances on the tower roof. He's searched each one and not found X anywhere. Tapping his foot, he meddles with his communicator to turn some settings on. He has no minor admin powers - that he has to leave to False and Tango - but he can at least try this.

"Ah-hah!" He grins as hitboxes light up beneath him, hopefully a better clue where his currently red coloured friend may be. He scans the towers closely, trying to spot anything out of the ordinary. There are a few mobs, especially as night sets in. Then he sees Xisuma's new build.

He has to take a step back at the sight. The chunks look- a mess. The outline of the blocks are overlapped or flickering. It hurts to look at. Blocks aren't meant to highlight like that. He glides across the treetops. It not only covers the area he was trying to work earlier but spreads into Xisuma's current build. Yeah that's- that's bad. That's not good. His communicator has continued to beep with messages as he searched. He goes to read it, and spots different colours in the mess. The red of an eyeline. He stands on his toes, leaning off the leaves. The outline flickers in and out, accompanied by a beep.

He thinks he's found X.

[Xisuma suffocated]

[Keralis1] he's in his new build!

[Keralis1] I think I can see him in the ground

[Keralis1] it is very very broken

[FalseSymmetry] tango? you on your way?

[Tango] as we speak

[Tango] been a long time since we've had to use these powers

[FalseSymmetry] not long enough

Tango and Zedaph are the first to land by Keralis's side. They kick up loose powder from the road, taking in the massive structure in front of them. Tango's shoulders raise, cringing at the sight.

"That's definitely broken," he agrees, his eyes twisting as they focus.

"And Xisuma's in the middle of it?" Zedaph looks at Keralis. He nods, usually big eyes sharply focused. He points beyond the walls.

"You can just see his name tag. I think the glitched blocks have got him stuck. I tried to build there earlier but nothing would stay." Tango presses his lips together in thought as False lands. They nod to each other in acknowledgement.

"How long does it take until the blocks pop back?"

Keralis hums, tapping his chin before answering, "About ten seconds, I think."

"That's not going to be enough time to reach him," Zed says. "Can't you just teleport him?" He looks at Tango and False. Tango opens his console menu, typing something in. Zed can tell the answer before Tango says it.

"What ideas do we have?" Keralis asks. "We can't just leave him there!"

"Of course not!" Tango replies, sounding shocked at the suggestion. "We just- need a plan." False nods.

"We're not as powerful as X," she explains, "Together we should be able to roll back these chunks but- I have no idea what that would mean for Xisuma. We don't really work with player code." She brushes her hair back. The conversation is paused as the trio of Grian, Iskall and Mumbo land beside them. The three slot in, listening as they're caught up.

"There has to be something that's making him spawn there." Iskall points out, his hand held towards the structure. False searches through the control panel, whilst Keralis and Tango simply examine the messed up blocks.

"He has a bed in there," Tango answers. False taps where Xisuma's spawn is tied to on her screen.

"Since the blocks are glitched, it must mean the bed isn't like... Registering them. Since they don't fully exist." She thinks about it carefully, putting the pieces together as she explains.

"So if we break the bed, he'll respawn at the world spawn?" Grian suggests.

"But how do we get down there?" Mumbo turns to look. It's pretty far down in the ground. They'd have to move quick to get near where Xisuma is.

"There's a few of us." Iskall waves at the gathered group. "I say with enough TNT and manpower, we could do it."

"Wait-" Zedaph holds his hand up, "-Get me close enough and I can teleport in there, get the bed. Less blocks to destroy."

"Zed." Tango turns to him, glaring at the blond. "That's a stupid idea, don't you get how dangerous that is-"

"Xisuma is stuck in a death loop, Tango!" Zed cuts in, raising his voice. The others fall silent, not sure how to handle this exchange. "Sure, I might die a bit! That's nothing compared to what Xisuma's currently experiencing."

"TNT will destroy a fair amount, but it already puts us on a time limit," Grian adds, a sideways agreement.

"I'm willing to do it. Either we reach the bed, or I teleport in." Zed says it with finality. The others don't argue. False checks his spawn point. Zedaph will respawn back in his cave, safe and sound. Even if it goes wrong, it'll be recoverable.

"We need to be ready to roll back the chunks," False says, focusing on Tango. "If I have this headache for much longer I'm going to go insane." Tango smiles tiredly.

"Fine. Let's try this." He shrugs. "I don't think we have a better idea."

"Well, come on! Let's go!" Keralis claps, placing an ender chest. Tango sighs, typing in a command.

"I think I'm allowed this time," he says, a stack of TNT appearing in his hand.

"And other times?" Grian asks. Even through the teasing, they can hear the fear in his voice.

"Don't push it."

There's noises. He blinks his eyes open into the unending darkness. He tries to focus past his burning chest and the weight of his body. There's... Definitely noises up above him. It sounds like explosions. The space he's stuck in shakes slightly. After another lapse, he gasps back to life in the same position. He wants to scream, tell somebody he's down here. This opportunity might not come again.

Then he feels a sharp stab of pain. Something is there, near him. Everything hurts and he still can't breathe. For a moment, he thinks he hears the trill of an Enderman. His tired mind can't figure out how as he runs out of air.

He wakes up to a chill. He slightly opens his eyes, spotting yellow sand as he falls, blacking out.

[Xisuma suffocated]

[Zedaph suffocated]

[Grian] have we done it?

[Keralis1] he's at worldspawn! got him!

[iskall85] YES!!!

[Zedaph] Oh thank goodness I don't want to do that again

[World reloaded]

[Tango] Z, you okay?

[Zedaph] I'm good. Bring my stuff? I'm going to worldspawn

[FalseSymmetry] will do

"Keralis!" Zedaph's elytra beats as he lands, feet digging into the sand. "Is he okay?" Keralis nods. Xisuma's head is resting in his lap. The admin's eyes are closed as he breathes slowly. His expression is relaxed. It's a good sight to see. The spawn island is lit up well, but Keralis keeps his eye on the surrounding oceans.

"He's sleeping," Keralis says, messing with strands of brown hair. "I don't think I'm strong enough to move him on my own." Zedaph drops onto the sand next to them, crossing his legs. There are still bright particles floating off him, his eyes fully purple. "What about you, Zee?" Zedaph seems to notice Keralis's focus, ducking away to hide his eyes.

"Um, not the best. That kind of sucked. But, it worked, and that's what matters!"

"Make sure you look after yourself, too," Keralis tells him. "Fighting the server's code isn't easy." Zedaph laughs, resting on his hands.

"Can say that again. Forgot we have anti-enderman griefing." Keralis cringes, realising why Zed looks so much like he might collapse. It'll pass, but it's never fun to go against programming like that. The architech trio arrives next. All of them look relieved to see the three on the island.

"Oh, Zedaph, I have your stuff." Mumbo starts emptying it out, the few things Zedaph couldn't fit in an ender chest. Zedaph smiles, tugging his helmet on and feeling a lot more comfortable. He tries not to meet anybody's eyes.

"Tango and False will be on their way. They're just checking everything's good," Grian tells them, hands moving quickly as he talks.

"Should we try moving X somewhere safer?" Iskall suggests. "The shopping district isn't that far."

"If you're willing to boat him." Keralis is firm. "I don't want him dropped in the ocean."

"I swear nothing will happen to him under our watch." Grian puts his hand on his heart. Iskall and Mumbo nod in agreement.

"It'll be the safest boat journey on the server." Iskall's hands are on his hips. Keralis tilts his head up.

"Look into my eyes and nothing but my eyes, if anything happens to my Shishwamy, I will not hold back." The architechs look suitably threatened.

"Can I boat with someone?" Zedaph asks. "I nearly crashed so many times flying over here."

"Hop in the back of mine!" Iskall calls, placing one in the water. Grian plucks Xisuma into his arms, carrying him to the edge of the water. He sets the admin in the boat before climbing in himself. Keralis checks him over before nodding and allowing Grian to keep him.

"I've told the others to meet us there," Mumbo says. "I'm going to fly across and see where's best to bunker down. I think we could all use some sleep."

Zedaph looks at the moon hanging overhead, "Yeah, I think we could."

[MumboJumbo] we're heading to the shopping district.

[FalseSymmetry] thats a good plan

[MumboJumbo] any idea who's shop we could stay in?

[FalseSymmetry] my dimension shop is pretty empty

[FalseSymmetry] plenty of room for some beds. pretty warm.

[Tango] we'll get it set up for you

[MumboJumbo] ok. ill protect the others

[Keralis1] so will I.

The first thing Xisuma picks up on is the talking. He stays still, trying to tell if his brain is playing tricks on him after so long in the nothing. His body is like a rock. He's barely able to move. His lungs still ache and it takes some conscious effort to continue breathing. He blinks his eyes open, wincing at bright lights. Light. There's light. He rolls forward, a sob leaving his lips before he can catch it.

"Xisuma, hey, hey." The voice is soft, casting a shadow over him. Xisuma forces his eyes open now the worst of the brightness is blocked out. Keralis is crouching in front of the bed. His fingers gently brush across Xisuma's cheek. For once, Xisuma doesn't feel the dried tears that had become his constant. "You're okay, you're safe. We got you." Xisuma takes a shaking breath in, squeezing his arms to feel the pressure of his own touch.

"Do you want your helmet?" He flits to look at False. The mere sight of his helmet is overwhelming. He reaches out and wraps it close to his chest. Keralis laughs gently, scratching through Xisuma's hair. The admin sighs, his eyes slipping closed once more.

"There you go." He can hear the smile in Keralis's voice. "We've got you, right here." The sound of movement. Cracking his eyes open reveals False sitting in front of the bed, weaving her hand into Xisuma's. He squeezes it gently.

"You're in my shop, in the shopping district," she tells him. "It's past midnight. You're completely safe here. We've got things sorted, there's nothing you need to worry about." A tear slips from his eye. Keralis wipes it away.

"What happened?" He can't make his voice louder than a whisper, and even that hurts.

"Something went wrong with the world reload," False tells him. He can trust her not to sugarcoat things. "We all had a few bugs, but the chunks around you glitched out badly. Created a bunch of like... Invisible blocks, but they were visible, if you get what I mean? They weren't fully there. Ugh, Tango's better at all this technical stuff." Xisuma tries to peer around for him, but the light still hurts if he looks for too long.

"You were stuck in a bunch of them," Keralis finishes. "We didn't realise until you starved and got stuck in a death loop. I'm really sorry, Xisuma."

"We broke your bed to get you out. Well, Zedaph did. The others got him close enough then Tango and I fixed the area. It's all sorted." Xisuma forces his sluggish brain to put the pieces together. He didn't dream up that enderman sound. That was-

"He's over there, sleeping. Tango's with him." Keralis points at a bed nearby. Tango's back blocks any sight of their part Ender friend, but Xisuma can see purple particles floating into the air. A concerning amount of them.

"What did Zed do?" He asks, the vice around his lungs tightening in concern.

"Um," Keralis answers, False looking at him. "He mentioned fighting the anti-enderman griefing code? So I think he picked the bed up." Xisuma's stomach drops. He tries to push himself up but collapses onto his back again.

"Hey, X, careful," False warns. Her voice is stern but Xisuma shakes his head.

"No- I-" He shuts his eyes, fighting off disorientation. "The server's going to keep fighting him. I've got to reset it." False helps him sit up, but she still watches him with concern. He picks up his helmet, pulling it on and relaxing slightly as all the displays flicker to life. Now when he looks at Zedaph he can see the extent of the damage. His very code seems to be fighting itself. "Help me up?"

False gets an arm around his chest. He ends up leaning his weight against her to stand, his legs shaking. She's firm, grip only tightening to accommodate his need. Keralis hovers nearby, ready to jump in if he has to. They take slow steps across the room. Xisuma strains to see under the light, but the tint of his helmet helps. He can see the architechs sat nearby, watching without any attempt at discretion.

Tango looks up as they approach. Xisuma can see the resignation on his face.

"This isn't going to fix itself, is it?" He asks. His hand in clasped tightly in Zedaph's, whose usually bright expression is twisted in pain. His skin is all too pale, black freckles spreading into larger patches across his face. He doesn't open his eyes, not even as Tango moves so Xisuma can sit down. The grip on each other's hand remains tight.

"I need to reset the code that's attacking him," Xisuma explains. His words have a tired slur he can't quite hide. "I'm gonna write an exception, I can't believe I haven't already just- not right now. Don't wanna do it wrong."

"Xisuma, it's okay." Tango smiles, pinched but genuine. "I'm sorry you need to do this." Xisuma shakes his head.

"It's nobody's fault," False says, "Do what you need to do, X. Then you're going back to bed." Keralis hums in agreement. Xisuma laughs softly as the command screens in his helmet boot up.

He zones out the others around him, leaning on Keralis's shoulder when his friend perches beside him. He scrolls through information as he brings up Zedaph's data on one screen. With one eye on it, he unlocks the data packs, searching through them. He gives voice instructions with his microphone muted to the outside world. Finding the pack he needs, he disables it and checks Zedaph's data. It looks like his code is straightening out again. Thank goodness. He makes sure all activity is deactivated before he turns the pack back on.

"That should do it," he mumbles, before realising his microphone is still off. He reactivates it before repeating himself.

"Maybe you should teach us a bit more sometime," False squeezes his shoulder, helping him up. Xisuma slings his arm over False with a nod. That would be good.

"Thank you, X." Tango smiles. He rubs his thumb across Zedaph's hand. The ender hybrid has relaxed, face slack. It looks like he's properly sleeping now. Xisuma can finally rest.

"Come on. Don't you fall asleep here, I don't want to carry you across." Xisuma hums, too tired to commit to any words. Before he knows it, he's sitting down on the comfortable bed again.

"Shishwam, lemme get your helmet." Xisuma nods, tilting his head up so Keralis can unlatch it and bring it off. His head rolls onto his shoulder the moment it's gone. Keralis giggles, ruffling his hair. "Come on, sleepy time." False lies him down, his helmet tucked safely in his arms. Keralis's hand slips into his. Xisuma shuts his eyes, before blinking them open again.

"Stay?" He asks, too tired to worry about being needy. He doesn't want to be alone in that darkness again.

"Of course," False replies.

"We're not going anywhere," Keralis adds. Xisuma smiles at them both, eyes slipping closed. The darkness is manageable with his friends by his side.

"Don't you dare wake them up," False hisses, watching as Grian and Iskall play with redstone. The morning sun is beginning to shine through the cracks in the windows. She's exhausted, having only caught a quick nap. Keralis is asleep next to Xisuma, sitting on the floor with his head resting on the bed. Tango's slid into bed beside Zedaph, holding him close to his chest. Mumbo's dead to the world across the room.

"We won't!" Grian calls, trying to figure out the game he could make out of this mechanic. Iskall has a Statues book open, an armour stand sat in front of a piston.

"You know, this would be a lot easier if the two people who have done this with armour stands were helping," Iskall points out, flicking through the pages.

"We're fine, it's part of the adventure!" Grian watches as the piston shoots the armour stand across the room. False smiles, leaning back against the bed. Some of the other hermits have been coming online with the early morning. Thankfully, they don't seem to know about everything that went down yesterday. It's best things are quiet for Xisuma whilst he rests. She's sure he’ll tell them about it. She'll make sure he does.

As the sun grows higher with the dawn, she dozes off again. Grian is yawning, him and Iskall only catching a few hours of sleep. He's still buzzing with activity. He'll crash later, easy enough.

It's to this quiet atmosphere that Xisuma wakes up. Iskall and Grian are still experimenting. Grian’s laughter rings out as the armour stand bounces in the air. The beat of the piston is monotonous, but they're nearly falling over each other at the sight. Xisuma watches with a soft smile, eyes barely opened.

"It we got one on top, do you think it would-" Grian holds his hand up, demonstrating an armour stand shaking up and down aggressively. Iskall chuckles, shaking his head.

"It's only the morning, we don't need to break physics yet."

"It's for science," Grian protests. He sounds breathless, half-delirious with his need for sleep.

"Please don't make me do work," Xisuma whispers, all too aware of the sleeping hermits around him. Grian perks up, Iskall turning to him with a grin.

"'Suma!" Iskall calls. Xisuma smiles at both of them, making no attempt to move. He's comfortable here and he doesn't want to wake his friends.

"Exy-Suma!" Grian slides across, leaving a gap from the sleeping hermits. Iskall stands by his side, resting his hand on Grian's shoulder. "How are you feeling?" Xisuma wraps his arm tighter around his helmet.

"Not the best, my friend," he answers honestly. "But I'm certainly better than before."

"Well, we'll just have to make that even better then." Grian is committed to the cause now. He's going to make Xisuma's day.

"You don't have to rush back into things," Iskall says, offering a smile. "I'm sure we can handle ourselves today."

"I don't think I'm getting out of this bed anytime soon." Xisuma looks down at Keralis, dark hair brushing Xisuma's chest plate. False is asleep slouched in the chair beside him. Even without being able to see the other occupants of the room, he can still tell they're sleeping. "Feels a bit weird not going for a jog at this time, though."

"I'm sure your legs won't wither away after one morning, X," Iskall jokes. "Be lazy like the rest of us." Grian grins.

"We could always play some mini-games later, too!" Xisuma laughs, stretching as much as he can without shifting Keralis. He's beginning to regret sleeping in his armour, but it's too late now.

The three chat with each other, Xisuma offering advice now he's awake. They're gradually building up a system to launch the armour stand across the room. Sure, they'll have to clean it all up later, but it passes the time and it makes them laugh. Hearing Xisuma laughing is good for all three of them, despite the roughness reminding them of last night's ordeal. It's safe to say that nobody envies Xisuma's experience.

The three jump at a strange, shrill noise, until the realisation kicks in. Zed is sitting up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Hair is falling into his face, ruffled from sleep. Tango remains slumped against him. He even rolls into the warmth Zedaph leaves behind. It takes a few seconds until the hybrid notices his audience. Zedaph jumps, smiling sheepishly.

"Oh, hi, sorry! Forgot I wasn't alone." His eyes are glowing brightly in the morning light. He looks down at the arm lazily clinging to his waist. "This oaf is used to it."

"No, no, you're okay," Xisuma tells him. False is stirring beside him, blinking to life, but Keralis remains out. "How are you feeling?" Zedaph taps his chin, resting his finger on his lip.

"Pretty well-rested, actually." Then his attention turns to Xisuma. "What about you? I should be asking you that question!" Xisuma laughs, flexing his fingers against his helmet.

"I'm okay. Taking it easy." He tilts his head towards Grian and Iskall. "Whether I like it or not, it seems."

"Too right," False agrees, yawning. "T'others can handle admin duties for today. You're ours."

"Is that a threat?"

"We can make it one!" Iskall tells him, his voice a lot more cheerful than the implication of his words. "We just need a good leash-"

"Oh absolutely not! Don't you dare!" Keralis pokes his head up next to him, trying to tune into the conversation. Zedaph laughs from across the room. He's tugging a bleary Tango to rest on his shoulder so he can wrap the blanket around them both.

"Oh come on, X, it'll be fun!" Grian wraps his arms around Iskall's shoulders. Xisuma shakes his head.

"You two are terrible. Absolutely terrible. Goodness me."

"I'm sure X will agree to take a day off willingly," False says, sounding far too threatening as she rubs sleep from her eyes.

"I already agreed. No leash required!"

"Why are we talking about leashes?" Keralis finally asks, looking more confused than anything. They break down into laughter.

[Grian] hello everyone

[iskall85] HALLO!

[iskall85] we are stealing your admin for the day!

[Grian] yeah he's ours.

[falsesymmetry] x had a rough night so he's having a day off

[falsesymmetry] so if any admins besides tango, x and i could step up please?

[cubfan135] yeah I'm on it.

[joehillssays] of course, and send our well wishes to our dear admin!

[Xisuma] your dear admin thanks you :-)

[Xisuma] please try not to break anything

[Etho] have a fun day lol

[joehillssays] don't make us lock you out of your screens, x!

[Keralis1] Nothing will get past us.

[iskall85] he's been suitably threatened.

[Renthedog] Should uh... We be concerned?

[Grian] about x-i-sooma finally getting a break?

[falsesymmetry] he's in safe hands. promise.

"Should we get this day started?" Tango asks. Grian is about to answer, only to yawn. He covers his mouth, face turning red.

"Another hour of sleep first?" False suggests. They look around the room, everyone in varying states of awareness.

"It never hurt anyone." Iskall shoves Mumbo over, fitting into bed beside him. "See y'all in an hour." Keralis smiles at Xisuma. He bumps their heads together.

"You deserve a break without being traumatised first, you know that Shishwamy?" He checks. Xisuma laughs, pressing their foreheads together.

"Yeah, I know." He leans back. "And I think I've got some good friends to remind me." False pats his back, getting comfortable enough to doze off again.

"And don't you forget it." Xisuma looks around the room. The architechs are fighting over the bed, Tango and Zedaph curled back up on theirs. He smiles, the fear from last night already on its way to being a distant memory.

"Don't think I can."

#hermitcraft #xisuma #falsesymmetry #keralis #grian #iskall85 #tangotek #zedaph #feel like mumbo's role is too minor to tag him lmao #my writing #this fic took so loooong #but i wanted to get it done #more brain space for my other projects

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gohyuck · 4 years

Note

5+9+23 ? With Jaemin.

originally requested by @heyyyun ! my tumblr kept glitching so i copy/pasted your ask into my askbox lol.

based on this post

this was a fun combo of requests lol... and the freaky friday things definitely threw me for a loop. it got lowkey nsfw really fast, too, so there’s that. outright female reader

ft. a horny jeno lmfao

5) roommates

9) freaky friday

23) i thought you hated me but i just accidentally sent you a booty text and you accepted and i am seriously considering it

you aren’t living with jaemin because you want to.

it’s something you make very clear to any and everyone you know - jaemin is your roommate out of your necessity, not out of your choice. he was the first and only person to answer the desperate ad you’d placed in the newspaper when you’d realized you wouldn’t make rent without a roommate, and, before you could find any other option, you were stuck with him.

now, you refuse to be gotten wrong: it isn’t like he’s the worst roommate ever. he can cook, and he cleans up well enough, and he’s never made a late payment. hell, he’s even courteous and about as well-mannered as any guy in his early twenties can get, so you can’t really complain on that front. he’s nice to your friends and always lets you know before having company over, and he doesn’t hesitate to ask if you need anything before he goes shopping for himself. he isn’t a bad guy, by any means.

what he is is an incorrigible and unstoppable flirt.

for his part, he isn’t too thrilled with you either - ‘my little prude’ seems to be his favorite go to nickname for you as of late, and you’d be lying if it didn’t bother you. still, you suppose, you aren’t too gentle in calling him a manwhore to his face. he only ever laughs, seemingly delighted to wear the title like a badge.

even now, you can hear the girl in your living room giggling at something your roommate has said, his own voice just a little too low for you to hear from the confines of your bedroom. he’d texted you during lunch to tell you he’d have a date over, and you’d sent him back four successive eyeroll emojis. he’d taken your annoyance as a ‘yes, please eyefuck your newest fling for two hours while sitting on the couch i paid for’ and now you’re stuck, crosslegged on your bed with your laptop at half mast and one earphone in, other ear listening to jaemin turn his charisma up to the highest it can go for what will culminate in, at most, yet another one night stand that’ll have you wishing for soundproof walls.

you sigh as she laughs again, followed by jaemin saying something along the lines of ‘let me pour you some more’. there’s a faint clink of glasses and a sudden lowering of their voices, and you decide it’s best if you put your other earphone in.

some things aren’t worth the mental scarring.

it’s almost two hours later when you finish with the essay you’re working on, pull your earphones out of your ears and place the case gingerly on your nightstand, and shut your laptop down for the night. you can’t hear anything from out in the living room, and, surprisingly, there’s no unsavory sounds coming in from jaemin’s room down the hall, either. maybe they’ve already had their fun, you ponder.

she’ll slink out of your apartment in the morning, you guess. maybe you’ll be nice and offer her pancakes on her way out.

you grab your phone from where you’d thrown it haphazardly onto your bed earlier. there’s plenty of text messages lighting up your screen, most of which you ignore. one catches your eye immediately, though.

from: jeno ;)

i’ve been thinking about you.

his text has you quirking an eyebrow, but as you scroll up to find the picture that accompanies it, you take a sharp breath, your teeth sinking into your lower lip on impulse.

you’ve been fucking jeno for weeks, but even now the sight of his prominent bulge covered only by thin gray sweatpants has your mouth watering. the two of you are good friends - surprising, considering he’s jaemin’s best friend - and you know what you have will never amount to a real relationship. it’s the healthiest you can imagine a friends-with-benefits relationship to be, and you’re grateful for it.

and for the sex. god, are you grateful for the sex.

you rush to change out of the ratty old band shirt and boy shorts you’re wearing, opting to switch them out for a lace set you’d bought recently that you’ve been dying to show off. you clasp the bra easily before you pull on the matching light pink underwear.

as you settle in front of the floor length mirror that leans against your closet door, you can’t help but let your thoughts wander to jaemin. his little prude, huh? you laugh to yourself, wondering how he’d react if he knew you got dicked down semi-regularly by jeno. just because you aren’t as obvious as he is doesn’t mean you aren’t getting any.

you switch positions until you find a pose that’s just right, capturing your bitten bottom lip, the swell of your breasts, and how the lace hugs your hips. before you can second guess yourself, you snap a picture.

if only jaemin could see you now.

you type out a short message - see something you like? maybe you should come over and look closer - and hit send, staring at your reflection for a bit longer before pushing yourself off the floor and back up onto your bed. it’s late, far too late for jeno to take you up on your offer, but it can’t hurt to ask. hell, maybe he’ll come over anyways. maybe you can make jaemin wish his walls were soundproof for once.

your phone vibrates in your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts of revenge against your roommate. you glance down, ready to respond cheekily to whatever jeno has said, and -

oh.

from: jaemin :/

fuck

yes

i wouldn’t mind, sweetheart. still, you could’ve asked in person. i’m only a door away, you know

your eyes widen in panic as you realize that, because you’d been thinking of jaemin earlier, you’d typed his name in and not jeno’s, resulting in you sending your honest-to-god nudes to your roommate. you rush to rectify your mistake, your fingers flying as you type a frantic response.

even as you hurry to tell him not to show up to your room naked, which you’re very afraid of him doing whether he has a girl over or not, a voice in the back of your mind can’t help but perk up.

i mean, jaemin is kind of hot, it says, actively laughing at your predicament. you wouldn’t mind being underneath him as he-

"shit!” you hiss out loud, acting as if swearing will distract you for your own thoughts. you press send, cursing the universe for causing your life to lead up to this moment as you do.

to: jaemin :/

FUCK they weren’t meant for you

please delete and pretend this never happened

+ don’t you have someone over????

his response comes quickly, and you brace yourself to read them.

from: jaemin

lol PLEASE as if you have someone to sends nudes to

but yes i’ll delete :(

she left like an hour ago, not really my type

for the sake of your sanity you choose not to respond, only liking his message about deleting the picture you’d sent. you switch out your lace set for the clothes you’d had on earlier, not even bothering to respond to jeno as you’d meant to earlier. as you put your phone on charge and turn out your light for the night, you do your best to force yourself to sleep.

hopefully, this whole ordeal will have blown over in the morning.

♕ ♕ ♕

the first thing you notice when you wake up is how insanely bright the sun is. the white curtains on your window do nothing to stop the light from pouring into the room, and you - wait.

white curtains?

you look around, taking in the beat up ryan plushie on top of the bookshelf in the corner of the room and the gaming chair at the desk. as you become more and more awake, your setting makes itself obvious.

once you realize it, you bolt upright, wondering what the hell you’re doing in jaemin’s room, especially when jaemin is nowhere to be found. you know you don’t sleepwalk, and you know for a fact that you’d fallen asleep in your own bed.

it’s only as you swing your legs out of bed and happen to glance down at them that you realize what has happened.

before you can say anything, however, you hear a voice - your own voice exclaim a loud ‘what the hell?’ from down the hall. you rush out of your - jaemin’s - room, only to immediately run into what looks to be your own body.

“(name)?” it says, and you gulp before nodding.

“jaemin?”

♕ ♕ ♕

“look,” you say, pinching your - jaemin’s - nose bridge. “we’ve been arguing for like an hour, now. it’s obvious that neither of us know why this happened, so we might as well try to figure out what we can do to make it un-happen!”

“it’s because you sent me that nude,” he says, running a hand through his - your - hair. “the universe reset itself out of shock at seeing you do something remotely sexual.”

“if i was in my own body, i’d kick your ass right now,” you swear, pushing yourself up off of the dining table which you’d been leaning against. you take a threatening step towards jaemin. he laughs.

“if i was in my own body, i’d... i’d probably be jerking off right now, to be honest. i miss my dick.”

you wince in disgust, staring down at his - your - face. “better not be to my picture.”

he shakes his - your - head at this, though not without raising his eyebrow at you. “i’m not a complete asshole - i deleted when you asked me to.”

“thank you,” you respond, not sure what else is to say. jaemin nods sagely before a grin starts spreading across his face.

“you know, maybe we have to recreate last night to fix it. do the same things, you know? who was the message meant for last night? maybe i’ll send them another one today.”

the thought of jaemin taking nudes of your body makes you feel dizzy in both bad and good ways. you realize he actually expects you to tell him, and you find yourself shaking your head no in response.

he quirks an eyebrow of yours.

“what, don’t want me to know? it’s not like i’ll tell anyone, you know. i mean-”

“it’s not that,” you hurry to tell him, and he smirks at you in return.

“no? then what is it?”

before you can respond, jaemin continues speaking, and you realize his question had been rhetorical. “oh, i know!” he says, sounding as if he’s had the realization of a lifetime. “you meant to send it to me, didn’t you? you just lied and got cold feet, after. i knew it! there’s no way you’re actually-”

in your haste to get jaemin to shut the hell up and your current inability to think straight, you cross the space between you two in one stride before pressing your mouth against his (or, you guess, his mouth against yours), desperate to get him to stop talking. your eyes are screwed shut anyways, so you don’t see his slide shut.

the two of you stay like that for what feels like an eternity before you pull away.

“i’m so sorry-” you start, opening your eyes to peer sheepishly up at jaemin.

wait.

up?

you blink once, twice, before bursting out into laughter. jaemin, after overcoming his own befuddlement does the same.

“oh my god, i can’t believe that fixed it,” you say once you get over the shock of being back in your own body. “holy shit.”

“i can’t believe any of that happened in the first place,” jaemin says, and you nod in agreement. a silence falls between the two of you almost immediately as you both try to figure out what to say to each other now.

you glance around the room, searching for something to fixate your gaze on. you know jaemin is doing the same beside you. before you can say something embarrassing - you’re seriously considering patting him on the back and going ‘good work out there’ - jaemin rests his hands lightly against your waist, forcing you to meet his eyes with yours.

“i kind of wish i’d experienced our kiss from inside my own body,” he says, and you search his face for an iota of a joke, something that says he’s messing with you.

there’s none to be found. you reach a hand up to rest against the back of his neck and, before you know it, you’re cupping the back of his head and pulling his lips to yours once again, though this one is much more passionate than the last. his hands tighten their grips on your waist as he pulls you flush against him, and you tangle your fingers in his hair.

once you pull away, you can’t bring yourself to leave his grasp. instead, you ask him the question that’s burning on your mind.

“do you want to see the lace set in person?”

your roommate nods, his excited actions directly contrasting his dark, hooded gaze. he lets you take his hand in yours, allowing you to drag him to your room. just as you shove open your bedroom door, however, jaemin speaks again.

“out of curiosity, who was the picture meant for?”

you stare at him for one, two beats before sighing, wincing right after. he gazes back at you both steadily and expectantly, and you figure you may as well say it.

“it ... it was meant for jeno.”

"what?”

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jadewritings · 3 years

Text

Fractured Mind

Pairing: Sam and Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k+

Warning(s): Angst, Fluff, Sadness, Mental Torture

Author’s Note: This may seemed rushed and i wont lie, it is lol. It’s been sitting in my drafts for a while but I don't wanna waste the idea so... it is what it is. This was forced too. Words forced to be written cause i so badly wanna get back into writing.

Summary: Everything was perfect, you got the guys, the kids, the white picket fence life. You were happy, until you weren’t.

“Mommy! Mommy! Look how high I’m going!” Your six year old son shouted at you from the swing. You smiled and sent a thumbs up his way.

“Make sure you be careful not to go too high, daddy.” You shouted at Dean who only laughed evilly.

You sighed and looked over to your left at Sam, who bounced your 2 year old daughter on his lap, making her giggle. It was contagious, making you both laugh.

“You two really make great fathers.” You told him, kissing his cheek lovingly.

“And you make a wonderful mother.” He smiled at you and pressed his lips to yours while one hand rested on your bump.

“Nah, I’m just a surrogate at this point. Mira and junior don’t even look my way anymore.” Sighing, you picked up your water and drank it.

“Y/N, tell me you don’t really believe that?” He asked.

“Sam, we’ve had two kids, working on our third and god knows how many more. They haven’t clung to me like they do you guys.” Mira blew a raspberry, and slapped her hands on Sam’s cheeks, effectively squishing them. “See?”

“Honey, they love you just as much as they do us. You carried them for nine months, you feed them, love them, hold them. They know you’re their mother.”

Mira turned her big y/e/c eyes toward you and squee’d in baby talk, stretching her arms out for you to hold her. You laughed, and being as hormonal as you can be for being five months pregnant, began to tear up.

You couldn’t help kissing all over her face and listening to her squeal and laugh. “You guys have no idea how much I love you.”

Sam turned your face to his and kissed you. Not just a peck, but a deep, full of love, passionate kiss.

“Whoa now, kids around.” Dean joked as he walked over to the table with junior. “Mommy! Did you see how high daddy pushed me!”

You sniffled and laughed, “You bet your butt I did! You were practically soaring through the sky bud!” Junior sat on your lap and drank his soda from McDonald’s.

Dean sat across from y’all, picking Mira from your lap and playing with her. Your heart swelled with love and pride, having two wonderful partners and two wonderful children. It was like nothing bad in the world could touch you, it was just you guys, happy and healthy.

Dean started to say something but when you looked at his mouth, no sound came out.

“What?” Dean repeated what he said but it sounded almost glitched.

“It’s... almost.. time.”

“Time? Time for what?” You looked over at Sam but it was as if Dean hadn’t said anything, he continued to eat his food.

“Guys, what’s going on?” The world started to lose its color, fading to black.

“No, no, no! Sam! Dean!”

It felt as if you were falling and your family was fading out of existence. When you opened your eyes, the room was dark and it reeked of death. Your shoulder ached and your body felt heavy. You looked around. There was no Dean, no Sam, no kids. They were gone.

You tried to struggle but the chains holding you up and the heaviness outweighed your will. You groaned, only just hearing the footsteps getting closer.

“Aw, somebody’s awake. Have a good dream?”

The man you saw when you looked up didn’t look human. His skin was pale, tribal tattoos covered every inch of his body. His eyes started to glow blue.

“Dream?” Your voice cracked from dehydration. You looked around, a needle stuck in your arm as you hung from chains connected to the ceiling. Then the flashes came. The happiness, the love, the pride, the feeling that nothing could go wrong. One big happy family. Tears threatened to overflow.

“It wasn’t real...”

“Oh honey, nothing that perfect could ever be real. Did you really think it was?”

Your face hardened, “You son of a bitch! I’m gonna kill you!” You struggled against the chains to charge forward but it was useless. Along with the dream, your strength was gone. The sight made the djinn laugh.

“Aaahh, I do love when they struggle. But, it’s time for you to sleep again and give me that sweet, sweet blood of yours.” He smiled and his eyes began to glow again, his tattoos seemingly moving down. You felt tired and went to sleep again.

“Mommy! Mommy! Look how high I’m going!”

3 DAYS EARLIER

“Dean, Y/N.” Sam called his brother, “Got a case.”

The case was in Houston Texas, almost a days worth drive. Sam had a theory as to what it was because they had seen their type before. This guy was leaving bodies in the wide open, blue handprints left on their stomachs. An easy giveaway, as Sam called it.

After setting up in the motel, Sam and Dean left you to your own devices while they went and talked to the relatives of one of the deceased. the case seemed like it was gonna be an easy kill and go home but when the brothers returned, they didn’t have any luck.

Dean sighed and fell to the bed. He smoothed a hand down his face, he seemed quite tired.

“Dean why don't you just get some sleep? You too, Sam. I can do some research for now.” you smiled at both of them.

Sam, who reached into the small fridge on the dresser behind you to grab a water, put his hand to your shoulder. “Thanks, Y/N. That would be appreciated.”

He gulped some water and flopped onto the other bed in the room. Both of the boys were out in minutes.

After a few hours you found that Djinns tend to live in ruins, usually – the bigger, the better. With that in mind, you looked up places like that and bingo bango, you had your target.

You started to open your mouth to wake up Sam and Dean but with the way Dean was snoring and Sam looking so comfortable under his covers, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. sleep was something they were long over due for. So, you grabbed your gun and knife and headed out, hot wiring a rusty old pickup truck in fear of Dean’s wrath if he saw you took Baby.

The only way to kill one was a silver blade dipped in lambs blood so you had to make a pit stop for that before reaching your destination.

It was pitch black outside, no doubt most people would be asleep. But nope, not you. Had to slice and dice before hitting that pillow oh so nice. You took a deep breath as you stood in front of a half burnt asylum. Best known because a patient who was getting abused here set it aflame. What better ruin to hide in?

“Better now than later, Y/N.” you surmised to yourself. If you could handle this on your own maybe Sam and Dean, the two big doofs would finally look your way. You feel in love with Dean first, the flirty of the two. You met him first on a ghost hunt. He almost stole it but you ended up working together on it.

The next time you saw him was with his brother, when they needed backup for a case. One you were willing to provide, anything to see Dean again. Then Sam came swooping in making you fall for him too. His intelligence blew you away. The way he cared for those around him and would do anything for anyone who needed it. You’d been stuck to them every since that case.

The Winchester brother got you, hook line and sinker. There was no way around it, your thoughts filled with them. But you couldn’t confess that to them. Why would they even like you like that. At least you thought so.

You quietly stepped into the asylum, checking each room as you went by.

Sam groaned as he turned onto his left side, slowly blinking his eyes awake. He noticed the light of his laptop still on. He sat up, wiping away any sleep left behind.

“Y/N?” he looked over to his right, the bed empty. Then he looked at Dean’s, so was his except his brother. He got up and walked to the bathroom to see if she was in there but the light was off. He started to panic internally.

Sam raced to the laptop to check what she had looked at. All of Y/N’s research was right there and even where she thought the Djinn was.

“Dean!” Sam grabbed his coat since he had fallen asleep in his shirt and jeans.

His brother jumped, “Huh- wha?”

“Y/N went after the Djinn by herself.” that snapped Dean awake.

“What?!” Sam tossed him his jacket and the keys, Dean slipping his gun in the back of his jeans and both of them rushing out to the impala.

The ride to the asylum was silent with tension in the air. Both brothers were worried of course, Dean angry at himself for not keeping an eye on her. She’d been with them for a while now. She was useful to them, not only that but they both came to care for her.

“She’ll be okay, Dean. She’s tough.” Sam cut through the tension.

Dean didn’t want to say much, his thoughts going a million miles in his head thinking if she was safe or even alive, so he opted for, “Yeah.” His grip on the steering wheel tightened, something that hadn’t gone unnoticed by his brother.

Sam pulled out his phone, bringing up Y/N’s contact. If she was in trouble, they had to get to her fast.

You’d been walking around for a little bit now, but still no sign of the Djinn. Maybe you’d gotten the place wrong? Maybe there was another ruin the monster preferred. But this one was just too perfect to pass up, it had to be this one.

You walked further down a corridor, the walls had soot all over them, parts of it burned down to the dry wall. You turned when you heard something move in the distance. Your eyes narrowed when you saw nothing there. You faced the way you were walking again only to see the Djinn right in front of you, smirking.

“Well, well, what do we have here.” You reacted immediately and jabbed the knife towards him, but he was quicker. He’d grabbed your wrist and twisted it so you’d drop your weapon. You groaned but that was the only thing you’d give him. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you in pain.

He sniffed up you neck and into your hair, making you flinch away. “You smell... delectable.” With his last word, you saw a faint glow behind you and his hand come up to cover your eyes. After that, you were out.

Dean and Sam had just arrived at the location you had saved on Sam’s computer. They both agreed it was definitely the place the Djinn would be. They got their guns and knives ready, putting the knife in their waistbands and keeping their guns glued to in front of them.

They entered the same way you had but one brother went left and the other went right, splitting up to hopefully find you quicker. The hallways smelled old and a scent of burnt wood still lingered in the air. However long it had been since the fire, the reminders of it were still there.

Dean couldn’t lie, the place had an eerie feel to it. He checked around every corner, in every room, and so far, no sign of you.

Sam did the same, checking carefully, making sure to stay quiet so he could have an advantage. He entered a larger room than the others he had passed. It almost looked like the nave of a church, benches lined up in rows with space in the middle to walk until you hit a few steps to climb. At the center of the steps, you hung from chains.

“Y/N!” Sam whispered trying to get your attention as he quickly made his way to you. You gave no response. You didn’t move at all and that worried Sam. He tapped your face a few times and held it up, whispering your name again. Nothing.

The doors flew open and Sam looked over from you. Dean’s body flew a few feet before he landed with a grunt.

“Dean!” Sam shouted to his brother. Dean grunted, “Heya, Sammy.” sarcastically. The Djinn walked in behind him.

“Is it Thanksgiving because it seems like I’m gonna have a big meal I’m thankful for.” Sam’s jaw clenched and Dean stood up from the ground.

“Get her out of here Sam, I got this.”

“Mommy! Mommy! Did you see how high I was going?” Junior shouted as he raced towards you. You smiled brightly, “Yes I did, Bug. Did you have fun?” he jumped up on your lap, nodding and breathing heavily. Dean walked up behind him and leaned down to give you a kiss. It was something you savored. You looked across the table at Sam who had your daughter in his hands, squealing at him as he attacked her face with kisses. But something in your gut told you this was too good to be true. You were kind of having Deja vu.

Then you heard it. Your name was being called.

“Sam?” you asked. The Sam across from you looked up and frowned.

“What’s the matter?” he questioned.

Again. You’re name. But this time, you definitely knew it didn’t come from him. Something wasn’t right, you felt it. This world, it wasn’t real. Flashes of memory made you realize, you were a hunter. Hunters didn’t get to live like this. They either died from a monster or by the end of a barrel. They didn’t get the white picket fence happiness.

You set Junior down on the ground, slowly getting up.

“Y/N? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Dean grabbed your arm, his face twisted with concern.

“This isn’t real. None of this is real.” you whispered.

“Not real? Baby, this is as real as it gets.” Dean answered back.

“No. No no no. I have to get out of here.” The despair and sadness you suddenly felt tore your heart to pieces. You wanted so bad for it to be real. To be with the two men you so dearly loved, to have a family with them. But you knew it wasn’t your reality.

You reached into your purse, grabbing the keys and taking off in the impala. Your heart raced, you didn’t really know where you were going. At this point you just wanted it all to end. So, you pushed harder on the gas pedal and crashed into a metal pole.

You gasped awake, heart struggling to clam. The feeling of the crash still lingering. You currently sat in the back of the impala, the familiar rumble helped to sooth you.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” You looked up and saw Dean smiling at you behind the wheel.

“What happened? Where’s the Djinn?” you asked. Sam turned so he could face you, a gentle smile crossing his features.

“He’s gone. You don’t have to worry about him.” You nodded and the car fell into a silence. Dean glanced back at you through the rearview mirror and you had a feeling you knew the question he was itching to ask.

“We were married.” you spoke, the boys turning their attention to you.

Sam looked at his brother before clearing his throat, “W-What?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, “We had kids and I was pregnant.” You laughed and sniffled, “We had a white picket fence life. Junior, was Dean and I’s son, Mira was Sam and I’s daughter. We loved each other- I... loved both of you. I still do.”

“Y/N-” Sam was speechless.

“No- I, please, Sam. Just... don’t. I know we can never have that. You and Dean probably wouldn’t even go for that, let alone have feelings for me.” The tears spilled onto your cheeks and once again, the car was silent.

After a minute, the impala slowed and pulled off to the side of the road. You sniffed and looked up, Dean turning around in his seat.

“You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to say what I do and don’t feel because I know what I want. When Sam told me you’d gone off on your own, it scared the hell outta me. I didn’t know if we’d reach you in time or if I’d have to see you dead in some ruin. I know how I feel, Y/N, how we feel.” You followed his gaze to his brother. Sam smiled and nodded.

“We love you too, Y/N.”

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mrsluttystark · 4 years

Text

Repeat After Me Part 2

Part 1

You guys have no idea how much it meant to me that part 1 was so well received. Thank you from the bottom of my little starker heart!

Tags: nff, age difference, former teacher/student, mention of daddy kink, mention of choking

Word count: 3.1k

Read below the cut

Peter wakes up five minutes before his alarm, like he always does. He absolutely hates the shrill screech of it. His bed creaks and groans as he sits up and swings his legs over the side. Suddenly, the springs that had previously been holding him up collapse under him, making him yelp in surprise. Peter made a mental note that maybe it was time for a new bed, he’d been holding on to the rickety twin mattress he had all his childhood since it was the only thing he had left from May’s.

He usually went into the lab on Saturdays, even though he was supposed to be off during the weekend. It’s not like he has plans or anything, but he guesses he could shift his schedule around a little to go mattress shopping.

His arm darts out like clockwork and taps his screen to turn the alarm off before his phone could utter the first mind melting ring. Peter runs a hand through his hair to brush some stray curls out of his face and stretches before getting out of bed to do his morning routine.

It’s not until Peter sits down at his two-seater dining table with a bowl of captain crunch berries, two pieces of toast, and a cup of earl gray tea, does he finally check his phone.

The spoon is barely out of his mouth when he sees the notifications. Eyes wide, he chokes on the cereal trying to force its half chewed self down his throat. He can taste the oat milk is his nose and it is not good.

Mr. Stark accepted his friend request and messaged him? Peter looked around his apartment, skeptical. Was he dreaming? Was this one of those life-like dreams where he gets ready for the day then wakes up and has to do it all over again? He looked down at his arm, should he pinch himself? No, Peter, that’s stupid.

He shook his head and looked at his phone again, opening the Messenger app.

Hey, Kid.

Shit, he was toast. Collecting himself, Peter took a deep breath to prepare himself for a conversation with his former high school teacher (that he may or may not want to fuck him senseless and cuddle afterward). He racked his brain thinking about how to approach this. Should he be bold?

Hi, Daddy. Please cum down my throat? Yeah...that might be too bold.

Hello, Mr. Stark. I humbly thank you for accepting my friend request. Ugh, too weird.

He’s overthinking it, he knows. Peter types out and deletes maybe five more messages before he finally settles on:

09:10 am

Hi, Mr. Stark. It’s Peter.

09:11 am

Parker.

Peter threw his phone down on the table and put his head in his hands, bowl of cereal soggy and forgotten. He made a face at it and pushed the bowl away, pulling his toast closer. He took bites of a slice distractedly and washed it down with some tea. He’d regret not eating a proper breakfast later, but right now his appetite was replaced with a turning feeling that he couldn’t quite place. His phone vibrates on the table, startling him from his thoughts.

From Tony Stark 09:22 am

Yeah, Peter. I did read your name on your profile.

09:23 am

Right. Sorry.

From Tony Stark 09:23 am

Don’t worry about it, Kid. Just pokin’ fun.

09:24 am

(sweating emoji)

Thanks for accepting my friend request btw, Mr. Stark.

From Tony Stark 09:26 am

No big deal, thanks for the request, it’s been a while.

And Tony is fine, you’re not my student anymore, Pete.

09:26 am

Yeah, okay. Tony. I can do that

So you remember me?

From Tony Stark 09:27 am

I remember all my students

09:27 am

Really???

From Tony Stark 09:28 am

No, not really lol

But I do remember you, you were a lot skinnier back then.

09:30 am

(eye roll emoji) And you were a lot younger

From Tony Stark 09:31 am

Ouch, that was uncalled for

09:32 am

You asked for it

So what have you been up to?

From Tony Stark 09:34 am

I’m a mechanical engineer now, quit teaching a few years ago. What about you?

09:35 am

That’s awesome! You were way too smart to be a teacher.

I’m a research chemist

From Tony Stark 09:38 am

Thanks, kid.

That’s about where I’d thought you’d end up, as smart as you are.

09:40 am

Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Stark

Tony*

Sorry.

From Tony Stark 09:40 am

Everywhere?

09:41 am

Everywhere.

From Tony Stark 09:50 am

Say, Pete. I don’t actually have a habit of checking this app and I’m about to head out of the house for the day. I’d like to continue this conversation, so here’s my number if you wanna text me [hidden contact information].

No pressure of course.

From Tony Stark 09:53 am

Peter?

New Message

To: Tony

You know who I am.

From: Tony

Had me there for a second kid.

I’m about to drive, I’ll text you in a bit.

Peter put his phone down for the first time in almost an hour, eyes straining to refocus after staring at his screen intensely for so long. His heart was pounding in his chest and his cheeks were starting to ache from smiling. Had that really happened? Peter brought a hand up to rub at his jaw, still in a daze. He was finding it very hard to believe that this wasn’t some elaborate dream because there is absolutely no way that this could’ve happened in real life. Talk about a glitch in the simulation.

He really got Tony Stark’s phone number, and he didn’t even have to ask for it!

Peter scoffed in disbelief, no fucking way! He opened the Facebook app again and went to Tony’s profile. Turns out there wasn’t much else on it, he had a total of 3 profile pictures and less than 100 friends, none of which were other students and only a few midtown teachers. So, he either was a very private person or he didn’t use Facebook at all. And if it was the latter (or both for that matter), why did he accept Peter’s friend request in the first place?

Peter decided not to think about it right now.

He went to his profile pictures and glanced at the current one he already studied last night. The previous one was just the Guns N’ Roses album cover for Appetite for Destruction. Classic Rock fan, noted. His first profile picture, though, was an absolute masterpiece. Tony looked to be on a beach somewhere, his hair was wet and messy from the clear blue salt water. Peter wanted to run his tongue over every inch of the olive toned skin exposed to the sun. His smile was radiant, framed by neatly trimmed facial hair, with thick, dark eyebrows peeking over his sunglasses. Swung low on his hips right below a toned stomach were hot rod red swim shorts that stopped in the middle of his thigh, showing off his tan legs dusted with dark hair.

Peter tried not to look, he really did, but he could not stop his eyes from landing on the older man’s crotch. And he was not disappointed. There, curving onto his thigh, was a long, thick unmistakable dick print. Peter’s mouth watered at the sight as his own cock stirred with interest.

Fuck. He wondered how big he really was in person. How far he could take it down his throat. He wanted to know how it would feel to be stretched and filled by Tony’s cock.

Scooting his chair back abruptly, Peter shot up off of it. His hard-on tenting almost painfully in his pajama pants and it was starting to create a wet spot. Mattress shopping can wait, Peter needed to cum, like, yesterday.

He rushes to his room and yanks the drawer of his night stand open, revealing a wooden box. Peter unlatches the box and grabs a bottle of lube and his veiny lifelike vibrating dildo with a suction cup right behind the silicone balls from his small collection. This one was by far his favorite, it’s eight inches long and he loved feeling the veins and the girth of it filling him up.

Peter lays a towel down on his bed and climbs to the middle, carefully avoiding the new dent in the mattress. He bunches up the pillows behind his back so he’s laying at an incline, then starts rubbing himself over his pajama pants while he uncaps the lube and squeezes some onto his fingertips. Clumsily, he pulls and shimmies his pants down his hips with his left hand, breath hitching when his heated erection makes contact with the cool air in his apartment. It lands with a light smack against his abs and Peter tugs his shirt up and under his chin. Kicking his pants off his bed, Peter spreads his legs. He can feel his hole puckering in anticipation of being used.

His left hand begins lightly skimming his torso, feeling his abs contract under his finger tips. Bringing them higher, he rubs across his chest, pinching his nipples softly. Peter rubs the lube between his thumb and forefinger to warm it up, then starts rubbing the tight ring of muscle in circles, making his cock jump.

Once he’s coated, he sinks a finger in slowly to coax himself open. His left hand continues caressing his body, skirting across the area right above his cock. Peter lets out a plethora of whines and pants, eyes screwed shut at the feeling. The image of Tony’s face urging him to take another finger.

He knows Tony’s fingers would be thicker, stretching him wider than Peter ever could with his own. The younger man hoped his former teacher would be able to handle him the way he wanted. Peter imagined large, strong hands encircling his throat while the other gripped hard on his hips while he took him.

Three of his fingers are buried deep in himself before he even touches his neglected, leaking cock. His left hand comes to collect the precum pooling at the head and dribbling down his shaft, allowing his hand to glide along his hot skin. He strokes himself lazily as he pulls his fingers out and reaches for the dildo. Uncapping the lube again he slicks up the silicone and brings it to his open, waiting hole.

Pulling his left hand off of his cock, Peter grabs one of the pillows and stuffs it under the small of his back.

He imagines Tony looking down at him with dark, analytical eyes, watching Peters every movement. The rise and fall of his chest, his heaving breaths. The way Peter keens when he’s stretched like he longs for the sting of it. Would he fuck into him slowly or would he seath himself in one smooth, quick stroke?

Peter chooses the latter.

He cries out as he pushes the dildo balls deep into his ass without pause. The pain from the stretch mixes deliciously with pleasure. Sweat beading on his forehead has Peter’s curls sticking wetly to his skin. His entire body is covered in a thin sheen of it.

The young man turns onto his left side, dildo still deep inside him. Peter reaches around his back with his right hand and grips the bottom of the suction cup. He sighs, easing the dildo out slowly before pressing the button at the base of the shaft to turn on the vibration and ramming it into himself once more.

Tony would be taking him from behind, a long arm encircling Peter’s body, hand coming to grip him at the base of his neck, right above his collarbone so that he could pull the younger man down and onto his thick cock while he fucks up into him.

Peter continued to fuck himself roughly with the dildo while he thought of Tony’s hard body doing it to him instead. He’d whisper dirty things in Peter’s ear while he fucked him. Tell him that he’s such a good little slut for his teacher. Peter whined at the thought, he’d love it if Tony let him call him Mr. Stark in bed.

He starts stroking his cock faster, feeling his orgasm build in the pit of his stomach. His right arm is starting to get tired from fucking the dildo into his ass for so long, he’s gotta cum soon.

Peter’s eyes fly open when he hears his phone vibrate through the thrumming in his ears. It’s a text from Tony.

How’s my favorite student? Miss me?

That does it. Peter’s entire body jolts as he cums all over his hand and the towel he laid on the bed, a high whine caught in his throat.

He’s still trying to catch his breath a few minutes later, after he eases the dildo out and places it on the towel. He wipes his hand off on it as well before he grabs his phone. He definitely needs a shower now. Then he’ll go to the mall.

To: Tony

Don’t flatter yourself

To: Tony

Maybe a little

Tony can’t help but smile at his phone, he might have been a little too eager with the message, typing it up as soon as he put his car in park. The easy banter going on between him and Peter was refreshing. Tony couldn’t remember the last time he felt genuinely excited to talk to someone, let alone text.

As the conversation kept flowing while Tony picked up his dry cleaning, he could only deduce that it was because they were nearly equal on an intellectual level. It may have helped that Peter was easy on the eyes as well.

They talked about their projects at work and the research behind it, what it was like at Columbia for Peter, and how MIT had been to Tony. The older man made a mental note to ask where Peter worked at a later date, maybe he could recruit him. He learned that Peter’s favorite colors were blue and red. That he hated horror movies but watched them anyway just to spite himself. He loved rom-coms and (surprise, surprise) sci-fi movies. He couldn’t cook to save his life, Tony assured him he could give him lessons if he wanted, he could make a mean Chicken Piccata.

Tony couldn’t even bring himself to feel guilty about it at all. The conversation was innocent and Tony was a flirt by nature, Pepper never had a problem with it. If anything, this thing with Peter was just a budding friendship. The universe knows Tony needed someone to talk to.

Around noon, Tony’s stomach started to grumble, not surprising considering the hearty breakfast of black coffee he had this morning. Peter mentioned earlier that he’d been craving Gyros, and that didn’t sound half bad right about now. He was a few blocks away from the mall anyway.

From: Peter

Here’s a contact picture, in case you needed one...

[see attachment]

The picture Peter sent was absolutely adorable. His bangs fell over his forehead, slightly parted to the side so it wasn’t completely covered. Tony felt utterly entranced by the younger man’s smile and the way his left eyebrow looked like he’d slept with his face buried in a pillow. He was wearing a T-Shirt with a science pun on it, as if the kid couldn’t be any dorkier. Tony loved it.

To: Peter

Is that a sly way of getting me to send you a selfie back?

Cute shirt by the way, where ya headed?

From: Peter

Maybe...did it work?

I’m going shopping for a new mattress, old one crapped out on me.

To: Peter

Here, since you asked so nicely

[see attachment]

From: Peter

Oof, you can just delete mine. You just made me go from a solid 6 to like a 2

To: Peter

Hey, give yourself some credit, you’re definitely at least a 5

KIDDING, I’d rate you a solid 9, kid. Just because there’s always room for improvement

From Peter:

I would just like to know who gave you the right to be so sassy and RUDE

To: Peter

Definitely my narcissistic ego

No, but seriously Pete, you’re stunning. Don’t listen to the old guy

From: Peter

Pls you’re not that old, Tony.

To: Peter

A man after my own heart. Thanks, kid.

From: Peter

Anytime :-)

You’re more like my friend’s hot dad if anything

To: Peter

Little shit.

From Peter:

;-)

Tony shook his head fondly and stuffed his phone in his pocket as he entered the mall, looking around for something indicating what direction the food court was in. He hadn’t been to this mall in a while, he admits since he’s been making more money it’s kept him from coming and eating the fast food they had here. So he followed the signs until he got to the food court, and noticed there were still quite a few tables open for him to sit and eat at. He made a point to stay as far away from the family with three screaming children as possible.

He scanned the choices until he found somewhere that had gyros and went to go stand in line. The menu wasn’t too extensive, he could either get a gyro platter or a falafel platter, and he already knew what he was here for. His eyes fell from the menu to the person in front of him. Not to be a creep, he’s only human, but he had a fantastic ass. A perfect little bubble butt.

The man was a little shorter than him, he had a trim waist that opened up to broad shoulders not bigger than Tony’s. Incredible figure. He’s probably a dancer or a marathon runner. He also noticed this man had brown curls. That made him snort softly to himself, he either had a type or Peter just invaded his mind in a short amount of time. It could be either, honestly.

His eyes dropped to the phrase printed on the back of his shirt.

Never trust an atom, they make up everything

Ha. Peter would love that shirt.

Wait.

Peter has that shirt. It’s the one he was wearing in his selfie.

“Peter?”

The man in front of him whirled around to look at him with a puzzled expression. Tony suddenly found himself unable to move or say another word. He was instantly captivated by doe eyes and one of the prettiest faces he’d seen in a long time.

He watched his confusion turn into realization and then disbelief and dare he say: panic.

“Tony?”

@sweetqueen449, @slut-for-starker, @dim-ships-johnlock, @starkerhowlter, @sthefystarkersworld, @crazycocococonut, @bris-sins, @delicateavenuenacho, @ironspiderstarker, @katzenbaby1, @spider-iron-man, @rebel13lion39, @twokinkybeans, @frenchfrostpudding, @cherrygoldlove, @silkystarkk, @icandoakickflip, @irondaddio, @briesb1tch

creds to @problemchildnoonewanted for some of the messages in the beginning

#starker #sluttystark stuff #starker fic #starker au #ironspider #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #Peter Parker/Tony Stark

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milkshakekitty · 3 years

Text

Little By Little

Little by little, Sour Bill found himself warming up to the new president he found under his care. And little by little, with the help of her confectionery vice president, Vanellope learned how life in her new (old?) home worked

Two drabbles ft poor Sour Bill trying to teach Van basic life skills since y'know, she was pretty much a hobo for her whole life

The idea for this is @pixlexic-president 's, I just loved it so much I had to write it out lol

"I am beat," Vanellope yawned. She'd won a race, killed a cybug king and regained the throne she never even knew she had all in one day, and now the new president was more than ready for a good long rest.

"I'll take you to your bedroom, Madam President," Sour Bill said, eager to have at least a few quiet hours away from the hyperactive child he suddenly found in his care.

"My...bedroom?"

He nodded silently.

"There's a whole room just for the bed?" Vanellope asked incredulously.

"Mmhm."

"Weird."

They walked for what felt like forever through the endless corridors of the castle- her castle, she had to keep reminding herself, until they reached a huge graham cracker door.

"Here it is," he said simply, opening the foreboding door and gesturing into the large dark room behind it.

"Wow," she said, barely above a whisper.

The bedroom was huge, almost too big for the new princessident to take in.

"This is all mine?"

"Mmmhm."

"And this is my bed?" she marveled at the huge canopy bed, covered in plush pillows and fluffy blankets.

The sour ball hummed again.

"Wow."

Vanellope hopped up onto the enormous bed.

And hopped again.

And again.

"I thought you were tired," Sour Bill said irritably.

"I am," she agreed, plopping down on the mattress, "But this bed is way bouncier than my old one back-"

"...home," the child said, much quieter as her grin slowly faded.

Despite having had to live in a volcano of all places, Vanellope had grown fond of the little ramshackle home she'd built herself so many years ago.

And after such a crazy adventure, such a huge change in her life, she began to miss the simple, familiar comfort of curling up in her little sponge cake bed, wrapping herself up like the little homeless lady she was in her candy wrapper blankets. She knew it was kind of silly, to miss her old life when her new home was so amazing.

But she couldn't shake it.

Sour Bill, despite how apathetic he appeared, could sense the child's mixed feelings.

So he left.

And in spite of the fact that the sour ball definitely wasn't the most comforting presence in the world, even his company was better than being alone in the overwhelmingly huge room.

Vanellope looked around as if she were lost. She guessed she kind of was, in a weird way.

The castle was so big, so silent. She felt like she was the only one in this huge place.

Diet Cola Mountain was never quiet. There was always the constant bubbling of the hot springs, the occasional booming sound of mentos falling into the lava.

Here it was just...quiet.

Unbearably quiet.

But just as Vanellope felt like she couldn't take the suffocating silence for another second, Sour Bill returned, a glass in his hand.

"Milk?" the kid asked.

He nodded, wordlessly offering it to her.

"Uh, ok," she took a sip. It was warm.

Strange, she thought, but kinda nice.

A few sips later she set the empty glass on the dainty little bedside table.

She had to admit, that'd helped ease her anxieties. More tired than ever, Vanellope rubbed her eyes, but found herself still a little nervous at the thought of sleeping completely alone in this too big room.

"Sour Bill?"

"Mmmhm?"

"Will you...stay with me?" she asked softly.

He looked at her for a moment.

"It's just that I- well...I know it's silly but..."

"...if I go to sleep I might- I just," she fumbled with the words.

"I don't...wanna wake up back in the mountain."

Even though she kind of missed it, Diet Cola Mountain was a sort of bittersweet symbol of her old life, her life as a glitch.

Of course the candy knew that it wasn't possible for her to revert back to that life. But Vanellope was a child, and as he well knew, sometimes children weren't all that rational.

Especially when they'd lived in an active volcano for a decade and a half.

"Mmmhm," he hummed simply.

"Really?" she asked. She honestly didn't think he'd agree.

He nodded and, maybe her tired eyes were playing tricks on her, but Vanellope could swear she saw the smallest semblance of a smile on his face.

She smiled, and he pulled back the plush covers for her to get under.

"Wow," she marveled quietly, her eyes starting to droop, "It's so soft."

"Mmmhm," he agreed, amused.

"I could get used to this," she sighed contentedly, snuggling into the comforter.

Just as her eyes drifted closed, Sour Bill turned the bedside lamp off, only to be stopped by a small protest from his half-asleep charge.

Vanellope sat up, looking slightly worried as she peered around the darkened room.

"Can you...turn the light back on?" she asked, her voice small.

He looked at her a bit oddly before he realized that, having lived in a bright bubbling volcano, Vanellope had probably never slept in the dark before.

Sour Bill felt the tiniest twinge of guilt. It was probably unnerving for the child to suddenly be expected to sleep in a pitch dark room.

The candy hummed an affirmative, switching the lamp back on.

As the soft amber glow lit the room once again, the little president relaxed, laying back down in her nest of blankets.

"Thank you," she said gratefully, letting her eyes close once again, the exhausted new racer falling asleep almost immediately.

He stayed by her side for a few minutes more, until he was sure she was soundly sleeping and wouldn't wake up and worry at finding him gone before taking his leave.

Sour Bill had never known a child who could be so annoying, so rash, so impulsive and infuriating and an overall pain in his rear. And he had certainly never had to show someone what a bedroom was before.

But he was starting to think Vanellope was growing on him.

Just the tiniest bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey Billy Boy!" Vanellope chirped.

"I do wish you'd quit calling me that," Sour Bill complained, but it fell on deaf ears.

"I uh, got all turned around," she spun in a circle, lost, "Where's King Crappy's garden?"

The sour ball looked at her incredulously.

King Candy- er, Turbo, used to retreat to his garden for a peaceful moment away from the energetic game and the child racers that inhabited it.

But the new president really didn't seem like the peaceful type. In fact, it didn't even seem like Vanellope and peaceful belonged in the same sentence, unless you were saying that Vanellope was a destroyer of all that was peaceful.

So he couldn't help but show his surprise at her question.

"Why?"

"Jeez cough drop, do I ask you for the details when you gotta do your business?!"

His eyes widened.

"President Vanellope, we have plenty of bathrooms."

"What? What's a...bathroom?" she looked at him as if he'd grown a second head.

Oh mod. Of course she didn't know what a bathroom was, she'd lived in a volcano for fifteen years.

He sighed.

"I'll show you."

"Uh, ok," she shrugged, "But I don't really get why you'd need some bathroom when you've got a perfectly good garden out there."

He tried not to think too much about that.

They walked for a bit, Vanellope looking around in awe as the candy led her down the endless hallways he knew by heart.

"This has been a nice walk and all," the kid piped up after a few minutes, the longest she'd been quiet since arriving at the castle.

"But I kinda haveta- ahh!" she yelped, tripping on Sour Bill, who'd abruptly stopped in a small doorway.

"We're here," he said simply.

"Oh," she wandered inside, looking as if she'd never in her life seen such a strange room.

She hadn't, Sour Bill reminded himself.

She stared at the bathtub, the toilet, the sink, and had nearly jumped out of her skin when upon curiously turning the handles, water came out.

Vanellope was gazing curiously at her bewildered reflection in the mirror when she spoke again.

"Sooo, is this...chair where you-"

"Mmmhm," he finished her question before she'd even finished it.

"Mmkay," she said skeptically.

"And then you push this," he flushed it, making her jump.

"Woah."

"Oh ok!" she chirped.

"Now out!" she laughed, shoving him out of the room.

The sour ball stood beside the door for a few minutes, tapping his jelly bean foot impatiently.

When he heard the toilet flush he expected her to return to what had become her favorite hobby- incessantly pestering him.

But then he heard another flush.

And another.

Only Vanellope could be entertained by flushing a toilet. He rolled his eyes.

After a few more minutes of this, he had his hand on the doorknob, about to ask if she was planning on missing the roster race to play with the flusher when-

"Hiya!" the door abruptly opened, the young president apparently having finally gotten bored with all the wonders of the bathroom.

Sour Bill startled, falling and rolling on the smooth floor.

"Oh, sorry," she apologized sheepishly, helping him stand back up.

"Hey Billy Boy-" Vanellope said as they continued on their way, earning an eyeroll.

"You never answered my question. Where's the garden at?"

He paused, "But President Vanellope-"

"Relax, Thour Bill," she laughed, imitating the "king's" lisp, "I just wanna find a buttload of gummy worms to put in Taffyta's kart."

"Oh," he sighed.

"I'll show you."

She giggled excitedly, "I can't wait to see the look on her face!"

Sour Bill knew he should probably try to talk her out of this. It would be the responsible thing to do, as Vanellope's vice president.

But he couldn't deny that Taffyta kind of deserved gummy worms in her kart. Plus he kind of wanted to see the look on her face too.

#this is the first thing I've written in a month lort

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

Note

15-24 on the writing ask?

Also you need to stop being shadowbanned ;-;

This time when I searched me up on my other blog, I showed up? I’ve also been getting a pretty steady stream of new followers, more than I have in a while so I think that it could be a glitch this time.

15. Tell the author your favorite fic of theirs. What’s your (the author’s) favorite fic you’ve written?

My favorite fic that I’ve written by far is I’ll Meet You At The Bottom. I am thrilled to say that, that one is still getting reviews! It is also my longest fic. Wan High was another one that I think was pretty strong. I also really enjoyed writing Kissing Dead Pearls. Protea has been fun too.

16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching?

Yes. Especially for I’ll Meet You At The Bottom. That one deals with drug addiction so I for a while my fbi agent thought that I was an addict. The drug in question was a hybrid of two real world drugs. I’ve also had to research that for a project I’m working on now alongside stuff about pregnancy. So idk what kind of image that paints lmao.

Most recently I had to research how to plant and transplant strawberries xD

For Protea I was looking up a lot of flowers and what they typically symbolism. Each chapter is titled with a flower that I think fits the theme of the chapter.

I also try to research any mental illness that I work with as thoroughly as I can.

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?

I usually just check once in the morning. I like to start my day that way.

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie?

I have a list of fics that I want to continue as well as a good five pages worth of blurbs from some fics that I’d like to start. The one I keep saying that I want to get back to is my Bellatrix/Regina crossover as well as the Regina adopts Azula one. And a werewolf Regina one. And...

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?

Pffft... no. All of my fics come with a no proof reading disclaimer. Like people have spotted some wonderful typo gems. And I’m just like, it be like that sometimes.

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

The daydreaming xD

No write, only finished product.

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

The writing xD

In all seriousness, probably the first sentence. Like I have trouble focusing and so it can take me up to a half an hour to actually get into a good flow. But once I get going I can keep going.

22. Do take fic requests? If so, for what characters and why?

I used to. I don’t anymore due to time constraints. I especially can’t take them now since I have five projects going on. I finished 1 of said projects but just added one more.

Back in the day I used to take literally any prompt for any character in any fandom I was familiar with. Even the weird ones lol.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

Hanahaki is so much fun! I also enjoy the ‘ Monstrous Transformation trope (cw: because the image they used is bloody) which is why I like writing werewolf and curse fics. Idk why I enjoy this one but I think that it’s fun to write.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

Good girl/bad boy. I also don’t really care for love at first sight type stuff. I’m not fond of smutty tropes either.

25. Do you listen to music as you write? If possible, link your writing playlist.

Music is strictly for the daydreaming process. I can’t listen to music while writing or I will write a scene that directly matches the tone and theme of the song. And my playlist is my ipod. And my music style ranges from Jesus Take The Wheel to Let’s Make Evil. From Ashnikko to Bob Marley. Could also be anything form P-P-Pickle to Within Temptation. So yeah, music is a no go for writing xD

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spideyy-girl · 5 years

Text

Choices ~ Stefan Butler

Request by Anon: Hi! Just wondering if I could request a fic where Stefan falls in love with reader during the time where he thinks he’s being controlled, then he believes that he didn’t choose to love the reader but ends fluffy? Don’t acc know if half of this made sense but just an idea lol

Summary: Stefan starts to believe that he doesn’t have control anymore. But then Y/N walks in and shows him how to take over his life again, and that not everything happens by choice.

Fandom: Black Mirror: Bandersnatch

Warnings: angst, anxiety attacks, Stefan thinks he’s being controlled, fluff at the end

Word Count: 1858 (5.3 pages)

Date: January 25th, 2019

A/N: Sorry that this came out so late. I deleted it... twice... cause I’m a smart one while trying to get the word count. Anyways, hope this is what you wanted anon! Another drabble coming out soon so stay tuned!

Ask or dm me to be added to the Black Mirror or permanent taglist! Requests open! Happy Reading!

~Ciara xo

Stefan sat at his small desk, the same one he hasn’t left in hours, days even. He can’t even remember, as he’s lost track of time and looking over at the clock takes away 3 more seconds that he could’ve used creating his game, Bandersnatch.

It’s been a complicating, coding and running and rerunning the game. The stress was starting to build on him as his deadline to show it to the Tuckersoft manager, Mr. Thakur, crept it’s way closer each passing minute. The stress was starting to gain on him, and although he insists that he’s fine, he knew that he was slowly starting to lose his mind.

Maybe it was the stress of having to finish Bandersnatch in such little time, maybe it was because he’s been recently skipping his pills that Dr. Haynes has given him, it could’ve even been the anniversary of his mother dying, as his doctor has profusely brought up each session, but he felt sick. No, not quite sick, just doesn’t feel himself.

Like he’s out of control with himself.

Recently, he’s been questioning himself, and the decisions he’s making. Like there’s a force, not sure what, choosing what he does. It had a range, from choosing what music he listens to, to choose whether he takes his pills or flushes them. He can’t feel himself make these decisions in his head like he usually would. He feels programmed. Like a game. Like his game.

He sits at his desk, typing away on his computer, creating a new branch. when he finishes coding, he presses the run button, praying to god that it finally works. The game cover comes up on the screen line by line, but glitches and the screen goes to a white screen, the bottom reading “P: FN WITHOUT DEF”. Without thinking, Stefan grabs his cup of tea beside him but stops immediately when he realizes what he’s doing. He puts the mug back down on his desk, restraining himself from picking it up again and throwing it on his computer, knowing that it would destroy all his work and it wasn’t worth it.

“No!” He yells, putting his hands down. He suddenly realizes that this is not him, that this is the person. “Who’s doing this to me?” he says as he looks up, not quite sure what he’s looking for, and speaks up. “I know there’s someone there. Who’s there? Who are you?” His computer starts to whir in front of his, but he pays no mind to it.

“C’mon, if there’s someone there just give me a sign. Will you give me a sign?” He asks his voice raising, still looking around. “I know there’s someone there just give me a fucking sign!” He starts to play with his hands out of nervous habit. Suddenly, his computer screen beeps, and goes completely black, catching the young man’s attention. Then writing pops up onto the screen, almost as if someone was typing.

I AM WATCHING YOU ON NETFLIX.

I MAKE DECISIONS FOR YOU.

“Fucking hell,” Stefan whispers, as he reads the text. “W-who... what the fuck is Netflix? Seriously, what does that mean?” He asks the computer. The screen goes black again, and just like before, writing comes up.

IT IS A STREAMING

ENTERTAINMENT PLATFORM FROM

THE EARLY 21ST CENTURY.

“I don’t know what that means,” he speaks directly to the computer, his mind rushing to think of anything he knows about this. “You’re not making any sense. Can you make sense?” The screen goes black.

IT’S LIKE TV, BUT ONLINE.

I CONTROL IT.

Stefan reads this and back his chair away from the computer in front of his, shaking his head. This time, he’s convinced he’s gone completely off his rocker. “I-I don’t understand. I don’t understand!” It beeps again, before going back to the white screen from before.

“Who are you talking to?” Stefan’s dad, Peter Butler, says from the doorway, startling Stefan. He looks at him for a brief second, before turning his undivided attention back towards the device, gripping the armrests on his chair.

“It’ll sound crazy,” Stefan says, not bothering looking back. His father shrugged and told him to tell him anyways. “I’m being controlled by someone from the future,” Stefan says, nodding at the computer in front of him, the same one which he was talking to his controller just moments ago, but seemed completely normal now.

“What?” Peter said, walking towards his son and crouching down beside him.

“I’m being controlled by someone from the future,” Stefan repeats slower, his wide eyes still fixed in front of him. Peter, looked at the computer, before looking back at Stefan.

“Shall I ring Dr. Haynes?” he asks.

“No. No, I need Y/N. Dad, please call Y/N I need her.” Stefan says in a rush, finally tearing his gaze away and to his dad. He nods and gets up to get the phone in the kitchen. He dials the girl's number, remembering it after the times where Stefan has had a breakdown before.

“Hello?” the girl answers from the other end of the line.

“Y/N? It’s Peter, Stefan’s dad. He needs you to come over right now. He’s doing it again,” He says frantically. He hears her sigh.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be over in five. Tell him I’ll be there soon,” she says quickly before hanging up. So he goes up and does as she says, and stays with him, trying his best to calm the boy down, but not being too successful. Sure enough, a few minutes later, a knock was heard from the door.

“Hello?” Y/N said but got no reply. The small house seemed to be dead quiet. She took off her shoes and her coat and continued to walk upstairs, and that’s when she heard to light sobs coming from a familiar room. Stefan. She went up and knocked on the door, opening it and peaking through “Stef?”

Stefan sat on the bed, his head in his hands, legs crossed. His father sat beside him, rubbing his back. He looked up and saw you, and sat up immediately. “See look, I told you she was coming,” Peter said, patting his son on the back. “And look, she’s doing fine. Not a scratch on her.” He smiled on his way out, mouthing a ‘thank you’. Y/N returned the smile before closing the door and walking over to the bed. She sat in front of him, grabbing his hands from his face and placing them in hers.

“Hey,” she said, trying to get him to look at her. When he did, she was met with his bloodshot eyes, and tear tracks clear on his slim cheeks. She almost gasped, he did look horrible. “Stef, what’s wrong, love.” He shook his head.

‘Y/N, you have to believe me. Please,” Stefan said, looking her right in the eye. She sighed, giving his hands a squeeze.

“Stefan-”

“No! No, don’t-don’t ‘Stefan’ me! I’m being serious, Y/N!” He screams, taking his hands away from hers to run them through his hair and down over his face. “Y/N, I’m being controlled. They told me! Through the computer, I swear! I’m being controlled by someone from the future!” He continues to scream, pointing accusingly at it. When grabbed the hand that was pointing and covered it, the other hand going up to his cheek to wipe the tears that have been streaming down his face, before resting it on his jaw. He leaned into the touch, the familiar warmness calming him down.

“Stefan, listen. I know you’re stressed, and the more you work on this game, the more it becomes a reality to you. But think it through, okay? How could someone possibly be making your choices?” Y/N tries to reason with him, tears continue to come down faster than before.

“They said it was on-on Netflix? I don’t know, some future entertainment thing,” he tries to tell her. She sighs, thinking about the name, but not recognizing it.

“Okay...” She says. “But then how could you explain the other things?” Stefan looked confused, his eyebrows furrowing.

“What do you mean, what other things?” He asks. She sucked ion her teeth, thinking of an example.

“There are just some things, Stefan, that no one can control. Not even someone from the future. It’s just what is meant to be.” She tries to explain. “Just think. Think of all the things that have happened to you recently, and how they happened. Not by someone controlling you. Of course, our fate has been decided, but there’s not some random person picking what we do on the way. We have a plan made for us.”

Stefan stares at the girl in front of him, wondering how he was so lucky to have such an amazing person in his life. Someone who has stuck by him through thick and thin, and is still here through all the crying, all the yelling, all the mental breakdowns. And he suddenly got it. He understood.

How could someone have chosen that?

Who could’ve chosen that he would run into her at the grocery store all those years ago? Who could’ve chosen that they remained friends? Who could’ve chosen the feeling he felt for her.

Who could’ve chosen him loving her?

“I love you,” he whispered, his eyes closing, finally letting out a deep breath. Y/N stopped, her heart beating a million miles per second, yet she couldn’t move a muscle.

“What?” she asked quietly, now with both hands grabbing at his face.

“I love you. I love you, Y/N. How could anyone choose that for me? How could anyone tell me to do that?” He says his eyes going deep into her soul. She nods, a smile spreading across her face. He smiles back, before leaning into her chest, arms wrapping around her waist as he buries his head into the crook of her neck. She laughed along, playing with his hair.

“Exactly, Stefan,” she whispers, kissing the top of his head, and grabbing his face to make him look at her. ‘And just for the record, I love you too, you goof.”

He smiled at her and gently leans in for a kiss. The first one doesn’t last too long, their foreheads pressed against each other after. He brings her onto his lap and kisses her again, a smile still on his lips. She laughed into the kiss, bringing both of them down on the bed.

They lay there for a long time, Stefan holding Y/N tightly against him, her head on his chest, writing little patterns on it. He played with her hair, every once in a while pressing a kiss against the top of her head, which she would reply with a smile and one to his chest. Eventually, they fell asleep.

He didn't have to worry about any bastard from the future, cause they couldn’t change this, and that’s all he really cared about.

And for the first time in too long, Stefan felt completely happy, and truly at peace with everything.

#stefan butler x reader #black mirror: bandersnatch #bandersnatch #stefan butler #imagine #requests open #fionn whitehead x reader

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crystalninjaphoenix · 5 years

Text

The Crossover Episode

Septics Inverted

A JSE Fanfic

Doin’ something a little different. I may or may not really love the Swap Boys AU, and I was like “heh, what if crossover?” and then I was like “Wait! I can do that! Literally nothing is stopping me!” andalsoHuffleencouragedme So I wrote it! :D Hope I’ve done the characters justice, it was a little strange writing someone else’s characters (ignore the fact that fanfic is just that lol)

Swap Boys was created by...a whole bunch of people actually, but you can find a lot of its content on @huffle-dork‘s blog!

Read the intro story: Part One | Part Two

Various other AU-related stuff found here

I don’t know if I should add the taglist to this cause it’s not normal AU material, but I have nothing to lose here, so if I tag you but you’re not interested don’t feel compelled to read this | Taglist: @evyptids @awkward-bullshit @watermelonsinmyattic @asunachinadoll @a-humble-narcissus @metautske @odysseus-is-best-boi @acuriousquail @beerecordings

If anyone had been watching the security monitors at the museum that night, they would have noticed when almost the entire system shut down, leaving only a couple cameras still operating. It was a very unusual blackout: all the feeds turned purple at the edges before the cameras spazzed out and died. But nobody was watching the security monitors. The single night guard had gone to check out a suspicious movement behind the building, and never come back.

The moment the system went down, a man in a black cat mask appeared in the middle of the museum’s latest exhibit. He waited for the pale purple smoke from the teleportation spell to vanish before looking around. The room was grand, marble floor and columns holding up the ceiling. Apparently an anonymous donor had decided to give their collection of antiques to the museum, and the museum put them here. He wondered who the donor was, because they were either unaware of what their antiques actually were, or an absolute idiot for letting these out of their sight. Even just looking at these things through the television had set off all sorts of magical alarm bells.

Well, they weren’t doing anyone any good just sitting inside glass cases. Marvin smiled to himself. Time to figure out what exactly was worth taking.

The central artifact of the exhibit was something that looked like an empty doorway made of stone. Except it had runes carved on one side and the other side was black, like obsidian. Apparently the donor had instructed that nobody pass through the door. Marvin wondered why that was. Looking at the doorway was sending shivers down his spine, echoes of power, but it wasn’t small enough to transport easily so he left it alone. The other artifacts were a different story. They ranged from jewelry to figurines to leather-bound tomes, everything so obviously magical that it was amazing nobody else had caught on.

Marvin strode over to the nearest display case, containing silver necklaces and bracelets. He placed his hands on top of the glass and muttered some words under his breath. A wave of purple spread across the case, and then the glass dissolved into sand. The jewelry was now out on the open, and Marvin could feel the pulses of magical energy coming from them. Luckily he’d thought to worn gloves; you never knew what these things could do when you touched them with bare skin. He’d figure out which ones were dangerous later, when he was back home. One of the necklaces was giving out the strongest pulse, so he grabbed it, and in a puff of lavender smoke it disappeared. All this teleportation was gonna take a toll on him eventually, so he’d have to be careful choosing which artifacts to liberate.

The lights overhead flickered and died. Marvin sighed deeply. Did this guy have nothing better to do than stalk them? With a flick of his wrist, Marvin conjured a globe of purple light, brightening his surroundings. It was quiet...until the hum of static slowly built up behind him.

“ Yo͟u m̵iss̴e̢d͡ a ̡f̢ew ̸c̨a̸m͠eras,” he said, amused.

Marvin didn’t even give Anti the courtesy of a reply, just spun around and sent an arc of violet magic in the general direction of his voice. The magic passed right through the columns in the room, as well as the glass display cases. A few of the artifacts inside let out spurts of color and unnerving hissing sounds. One even exploded into shards of colored crystals, which in turn caused the rest of the items in that case to either melt or also explode. “Fuck,” Marvin muttered. Okay, point taken, be careful using magic around these things.

An outline of a man appeared, leaning on top of one of the cases. He was glowing slightly green, which would make him an easy target if he wasn’t prone to glitching out of the way of any projectiles. “S̢hor̨t̴er͠ temp͝e͞r ̶than usual, I see,” Anti said. “What’s wrong, w͡hiske̛r͟s͢?”

“I’m kind of busy, right now,” Marvin growled. Maybe he could land a hit if he could keep Anti distracted. He ran through all the attack spells he knew, trying to find one that could avoid hitting the artifacts.

“Oh, we’re ̕ta̧l̵king t̨h̵i̡s̸ ̛tím͢e͡!" Anti laughed. “Can’t be th̀at̕ ̸b͡us̕y̨ then.”

“Well, you’re just gonna jump out of the way of anything I try like the fucking cheater you are. And everything's pretty sensitive in here, so why take the chance of blowing myself up? Anyways, what do you want?”

“Well, I ͏wa̢nt̛ you to ̶s̷t̴op ̧this sort of thing a͠l̸to̵g̷eth͟er,” Anti mused. “And maybe d̴i͡sappȩar from s͡o͝ciet͞y͝ while you’re at it. But I know y͏ou won’t do that, so I’ll settle for y̸óu leavi̷ng̢ th̛iś ͞p͟l͏ac̷e alone.” He glanced around. “Is it really a good idea to go after things that can b̶a̴ck̨f̛ire̵ ̀o̵n y̛òu̸ at a͏ny m͏oment? ̢Es̸p͟ećìally considering what ̵hap̢pe̢ned ̕la͞st͡ time one of your spells—”

A beam of concentrated magic, about the width of a pencil, shot toward’s Anti’s head, actually connecting. He stumbled back a few steps, coming apart momentarily before reforming.

“How do you know about that?!” Marvin demanded.

Anti shook his head, pixels flying away from his face. “I ̧j͞us̛t do.” He glitched and for a moment there seemed to be more of him. “Wha̧t...w͞a͞s tha̢t, by ̕th̡ȩ ͏w̸ày͞? F̕elt͡ ͠lik͝e a knif̀e in the̡ br͞a̸in.”

“Pointslice spell,” Marvin couldn’t resist explaining. His eyes flashed purple. “Good to know it did something.” And he sent another one in Anti’s direction.

Anti was prepared this time, glitching away. He reappeared right in front of the stone doorway in the center of the exhibit. Once more, he shook his head, blinking this time. He was confused. Good. Marvin sent one more pointslice towards Anti, this time hitting him square in the chest. The force of the spell shoved him back a few steps and right into the empty doorway, where he stopped. Frozen in place like someone hit the pause button. “C̵-càņ't͟—go̷—fa͠r͏-fart̛her,” he said through gritted teeth. The words came out haltingly, stuttering like a broken connection. “No̶t̢ su̴p̨pos͟-̴p͏o̷s̸-p̷os̵ed̷ t̶o—feȩl̴s ̛da͡nger-d̡ang̕e̛r͠-ger-ge͞r—”

“Dangerous?” Marvin finished. “I’m sure you can handle it.” Anti was unwilling and/or unable to move from the spot where he’d ended up. He probably wouldn’t be able to dodge a slower, but more powerful spell. Marvin gathered his magic, then threw a dark purple flame toward the doorway.

Anti’s eye widened. At the very last second, he tried to glitch away, but...something happened. The magic tried to go through the doorway and the cluster of pixels, but it stopped. It glowed brighter, then started to spin, gathering into a sphere that only spun faster and faster. Anti’s pixels were caught up in the magic’s orbit, swirling around it and speeding up as it did. The magic let out a low whine that grew higher in pitch until it was almost out of the range of human hearing, then it shattered. A wave of color and noise and indescribably bright light burst out, tearing through the glass cases, hurling anything not rooted to the ground away from the doorway in a circle. Including Marvin, whose head hit the far wall with a thud before he slid to the ground.

Anti reformed slowly, clusters of pixels becoming shapes, clumps of shapes becoming limbs and then finally a body. He was laying face down on the floor, eye closed. Standing would take too much energy. What the fuck just happened? First Marvin hit him with a new spell that messed with his head, basically slowing his thoughts down, then he got stuck in that weird doorway. He didn’t even mean to, it was just that the moment he was standing in it, he got this overwhelming feeling that he should not go through unnatural stop do not that added more fuckery to his head. And then Marvin, like an idiot, had attacked him. And he, like an idiot, glitched away. The combination of Marvin’s black magic and Anti’s own must have...done something. He wasn’t sure what, but it had apparently drained him.

“Now what do we have here?”

Anti’s eye fluttered open. That voice...it sounded a bit like Marvin, but since when was Marvin the type to say something so sinister and cliche? With some effort, Anti lifted his head up and turned it towards the voice. And there, he saw a man who looked almost like Marvin, but with some key differences. He’d upgraded from a dress shirt to a full suit, and his cape was flickering with static, which made Anti feel strangely offended. The man wore half of a white cat mask, and one of his eyes glowed bright green while the other was dull and lifeless. There was magic dancing around his clawed hands, but it was green instead of purple.

The man looked at Anti, watching him glitch wildly for a moment. “You didn’t tell me you had a new trick, Alt.”

“W̛h̸o̡ ̧t̨h̢e ̷fu͢c̢k is ̷Al͢t?” Anti pushed himself into a kneeling position.

For a split second, the man looked surprised. But he quickly buried it. “You can’t fool me.” The man stalked forward, grabbing Anti by his scarf and pulling him into an upright position. “You think a change of clothes and a new location would be able to hide you from me? I’m afraid you're wrong. Though I'm very interested in how you managed to pull that off.”

Anti scowled. “Loo͏k,͝ H̡ou͠d͢ini,̵ I d͢o̕ń't ķnow͏ ́w͞h̵ơ you̸ a̢re, I ͠d̢o͝n'͏t kn̡ow who̕ ͞y̸o̕u͏ th͢i͢n͟k ̶I ̕a̷m̶,͞ àll̡ I̕ k̷now ̛i͏s tha̧t yo̢u͏'́r͢e ̴th́r͞e̕at̕e̢n̛i̧n̢g͞ m̨e̷ u͝n͠deŗ ̧a ̸v̛eil, ̵anḑ ̶it͢'̕s do̶i̕n̢g ̕n̡o̴th̷ing.”

“Is that so?” The man flexed his fingers, and the claws on his hands extended. He smiled madly. “Perhaps I believe you. But that won’t stop me from taking your other eye out. Then maybe you’ll tell me where I am.”

Anti burst out laughing, spasms of distortion running through his body. “The̛r̷e's͠ th͞e u̶nveíl̶e̵d ͡threat͞s! Go a͠h͠ead́. ̨I͢ ̶o͏n̕c̕e h̢ad͏ ͠my h̷an̛d ̨cu͞t off̷ a͞nd̡ I ͢di͏dn'͞t f̡̢̛l͞i̧̢͠ņ̀c͟h,͢ y̵ǫu t̵hink̀ ̨a meaśly̷ l̵it͞t̡l̨e̛ ey̨e iś ̢g͝ǫn̕na ge̛t a̸ ͞re͝ác͟tio͢n̸?”

The man blinked for a moment, which probably meant he was confused or too angry for words. Maybe both. But before he could retaliate, something purple started glowing in Anti’s peripheral vision. He barely had time to brace himself before both he and the other man were hit with a blast of violet magic, throwing them both a few feet across the room. Anti forced himself into a kneeling position for the second time in a minute and looked at Marvin—was the other man somehow also Marvin?—standing with his hands full of purple magic, glaring at the other man. “Who the fuck are you and why do you look like me?!” he shouted.

The man stood up. “Why do I look like you?” he repeated, scowling. “I think you have that question backwards.” He scanned Marvin, and an understanding seemed to dawn in his eyes. “As for who I am...” He disappeared, reappearing a foot away from Marvin’s face, who jumped. He chuckled at the reaction. “...you may call me Magnificent.”

“Are you showing off?” Marvin’s eyes narrowed behind the mask. “Teleporting isn’t difficult, you know. And you say I got the question backwards when you’re the one using my old name! What are you, a copycat?” He smirked.

Magnificent growled. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Well, you do have power, weak as it is. We can come to an arrangement.”

“Sorry, all my spots for allies are full right now, wait until they die,” Marvin quipped. “And that’s not an invitation for murder. Unless you want to be on the receiving end.” The purple magic flared.

Magnificent’s green flared in turn. “It wasn’t an option.” The green magic started to swirl, spirals of mesmerizing colors hovering inches from Marvin’s face. At first he balked, backing away, raising his arms with his purple magic trying to form a shield in front of him. But the longer he stared, the more his magic died. His shoulders slumped and his arms fell as he relaxed. Behind his black mask, his eyes were fixed on the lights before him.

Anti watched the entire exchange silently, not sure if he should intervene. Neither of these magicians were the kind of people he wanted to help, but it was part of his instincts at this point. Human in danger meant he had to jump in, it was a rule.

Then something flickered. Anti’s eye snapped toward it, and he felt, more than saw, someone glitch. How the...? Nobody else was supposed to be able to do that. It just wasn’t possible. Unless...

He gave one more glance to the pair of magicians. You know what? He’d let that play out. If the outcome wasn’t favorable, he’d fix it. For now, though, he had questions. Neither of the masked men noticed when he glitched away.

“That’s it,” Magnificent purred, concentrating on the face of his other self. “Just relax. Let the colors take you away.”

Marvin nodded blankly. The colors were pretty. So beautiful...He didn’t even notice the magic probes burrowing into his mind. Didn’t even realize his body was going limp, like a toy doll. Or a puppet. None of that mattered. Why would it?

“You have potential,” Magnificent said. “I can give you the power you want. The power you crave. All you have to do is wrap my strings around your wrists. That’s it. Not too difficult. And you’ll get everything you ever wanted in return.”

That sounded like a good deal. Why wouldn’t he take it? Everything he ever wanted...it didn’t matter if the only thing keeping him standing was Magnificent’s strings. It didn’t matter if there was a faint buzzing in his mind. Those things were irrelevant...and sort of welcome.

Magnificent watched as the other him’s head lolled. Perfect. Now there was one final step. Magnificent pressed his fingers to Marvin’s temple, sending a flood of dark magic down his neural paths, deep deep down. In the future, he’d just need to touch that point and he’d have a perfect puppet ready to go. Magnificent smiled as he felt his magic flowing through Marvin’s mind. But then...it hitched on something. That was the only word to describe what it felt like. There was something there, something catching on his magic. And then whatever it was changed, like flipping a switch.

Marvin’s eyes snapped wide open, glowing purple. Magnificent didn’t have time to react before Marvin grabbed his wrist, yanked his hand away from his temple, and pulsed, sending a flood of pure black magic through Magnificent’s entire body. The force of it tossed Magnificent all the way to the other side of the museum room, crashing into one of the display cases.

“Fucking mentalist mind trick motherfucking bullshit!” Marvin yelled. “I knew there was a reason I used to hate you guys!”

Magnificent clambered to his feet. That should have worked! He almost had this version of him under control, but then...what happened? It was almost like he’d—like he’d set off a trigger. One that someone else had put in there, made to go off when someone dug too deeply into this Marvin’s head. But why would anybody do that?

“Hey hypno-shit, catch!” Marvin snapped his fingers and muttered some words under his breath. A glowing purple orb hovered over his head for a moment before zooming towards Magnificent. He managed to put up a shield of glowing green just in time. The orb crashed into the shield with an audible crack, bursting into what looked almost like liquid that splashed across the green magic, eating away at it. Magnificent gritted his teeth, then dropped the shield and disappeared, reappearing behind Marvin.

“You think you stand a chance against me?” Magnificent laughed. “Well, two can play at that game.” A wave of green slammed into Marvin, throwing him into the side of the stone doorway, which was standing as still and untouched as it had been before whatever this was started.

Marvin hissed. “Yeah, but you’re on my home field. And I know something you don’t.” Magnificent was standing near one of the display cases. The glass had been shattered by the blast, but the artifacts were undamaged. Not for long. Marvin sent one of the pointslice spells at a gold bracelet that was giving off particularly strong vibes. The moment it made contact, the bracelet vibrated intensely before exploding, pieces of gold blasting outward. In just a few seconds all the nearby artifacts were bursting as well, sending shards of hot metal and stone everywhere. Magnificent barely had time to cover his head before he was caught in the chain reaction, shards slicing into his skin and lodging there. He muffled his cry of pain. Can’t show weakness.

Marvin laughs. “I have potential, you say? A bit more than that, I fucking think! Here, why don’t I show some of my tricks?” A few muttered words, and suddenly a wheel of purple sparks was whizzing about the room, streams of violet cutting through the columns and displays like burning knives. It headed straight toward Magnificent.

The magician leaped out of the way, and the wheel flew past him, only for it to course correct and head right back towards him. Magnificent shot a bolt of green magic toward it, but the wheel split into two when the bolt hit it, and the two new ones were still zooming towards his face. Magnificent didn’t want to admit it, but he was starting to get nervous. He disappeared just before the wheels hit him.

“Aw, what’s wrong, Mag? Never seen an Insentro wheel before?” Marvin jeered. “Did you put all your effort into fancy mentalist shit and nothing practical?” He flicked his wrist, and the wheels stopped, slowly spinning in the air like a dog searching for a scent. “Also did I mention that advanced forms of the spell can seek out living creatures?”

Suddenly, the wheels bolted toward one of the columns, homing in on something invisible to the eye. They sliced through the column and something flared a dark green. The wheels hit the green, exploding into fire that quickly died out. Magnificent flickered into view, the shield he put up at the last minute almost spent. He glared at Marvin. “Your spells will have to be stronger than that.”

“Hey, you want some free advice? Never say that, you’re just asking for it.” Marvin cupped his two hands into a ball shape. Between them, a sphere of bright pink-purple light grew into existence. “And this is the it you asked for.” He threw the sphere in Magnificent’s direction. It gained speed and size remarkably quickly, little branches of lightning shooting off like a miniature comet. Magnificent barely had time to reinforce his shield before the comet became a supernova, filling up nearly half the room with buzzing purple magic that attacked the nearest surface. The frenzy lasted for about five seconds before it suddenly winked out of existence. And when it vanished, Marvin couldn’t see any sign of Magnificent.

Normally that would have been a victory, but this guy was apparently very adapt at teleportation. Marvin was tempted to go looking for him...but he forced himself to admit he was pretty drained. That Mun’iquo Steturit was supposed to be a last resort type spell, and he’d busted it out at the end there anyway. Magical exhaustion was working away at his brain, slowing his reflexes and giving him a pounding headache. He felt like he could sleep for days...no, it would be a bad idea to go after Magnificent just now. He could actually lose. Marvin yawned, looking around the museum exhibit at the absolute destruction the fight had caused. No doubt the curator would be wondering what had sliced right through solid stone columns, or caused half the artifact collection to fall apart. Speaking of which...there were some artifacts left untouched that were still giving off powerful magical signatures. Marvin grabbed a few of them. Couldn’t let this trip be a total waste. Then, with one last scan to make sure the other magician wasn’t to be seen, Marvin disappeared in a puff of smoke.

In the hallway outside the room, Magnificent did a quick overview of his wounds. What kind of spells did the other him have? He’d never seen anything even remotely like that last attack. Either this version of him was seriously powerful, or this world—by now he was sure he was in a different world—had a different form of magic. But whichever one it was didn’t matter in the long run. The other him had still managed to slice him up with those exploding artifacts, almost burn him with those wheels, throw him across the room twice, and cook him with that last spell. His entire body stung, feeling like it had been dunked in boiling water on top of the slices. And he almost had him too! That was what hurt the most. Magnificent sorely wanted to go back and make the other him pay, but he was in no shape to do so. He’d have to recuperate, make a new plan.

But eventually, the other him would be his. Or he’d be dead. And Magnificent would have a whole new world to play with.

Alt wasn’t sure where he was. He didn’t recognize this part of town. Last thing he knew, he’d been running away from Magnificent, again, then there’d been a bright, colorful light and a loud noise, and suddenly he was in a fancy museum-looking place. He’d been quick to duck to the edges of the room, scared that this was some new trick of the magician’s, but Magnificent had mistaken someone else for him...someone who also glitched. How was that possible? He thought he was the only one who could do that. Obviously he wasn’t the only person in the world with powers, Bro Fantastic was a prime example of that, but glitching...

He’d managed to escape when that other man showed up, the one who looked and sounded eerily like Magnificent, and now he was running though the streets, trying to find a way to his apartment—or at this point, any familiar place. He couldn’t find any of the streets or landmarks he knew.

Someone appeared in front of him. No, someone glitched in front of him. Was that really what it looked like? Alt skidded to a halt. It was that guy, the one from the museum-type place, the one who Magnificent threatened and he just laughed in response. He actually looked a bit like Alt himself, if Alt lost his jacket, traded his bandanna for a scarf and an eye-patch, and surgically removed his freckles. His glitches also seemed...different, somehow. Alt’s were often green or other vibrant colors, pixels floating in a cloud around him. But this guys’ were mostly white and grey with the occasional green, and they were actually coming off of him. “What̢ ̢a̴re̕ y̵o̕u?” the guy asked. His voice sounded like a broken computer.

“I don’t know, dumbass,” Alt growled. “The guy who’s about to shove his fist down your throat if you don’t get out of my way?”

“Rea̶l͡ cr͞ea̛t͡i͞v́è th̴ęr͞e.” The guy rolled his eye. “H̡o̶w o͝ld̴ ͢ar͞e ̵yo̡u?̢ ̶Fi͞f̵t̵eȩn̸?”

Alt felt a surge of rage. He didn’t care if this guy was also a glitcher, he didn’t care if he somehow looked like him, he wanted this asshole to leave him alone. He clenched his fists, green electricity arcing around them. “Ì̡͝ ̛͟͝ẁá͟s̸̕ ̵̛s̵̀eri̶̸o̸us͠ ab͢o̕͠u̡͡t̛ ̷͡th̛a̶̢t.” He lunged towards the guy, glitching lending him speed as he swung a fist towards his head. It connected with a solid crack and the snap of electricity.

The other dude fell backwards onto the ground. But he was immediately back up again. “Cáre̴f̸u͠l ̀w͟i̧t̶h ̨t͡h́at,” he said as if he hadn’t just been decked in the face. “You could really h̶úŕt͠ someone.”

“That’s the point!” Alt yelled. “You, for example!”

The guy chuckled. “Ǹo͞.”

The fuck did that mean?! Alt’s glitches intensified. “L̡̛é́͞ąv̶͟e̵ ̷͠͞me á͏l͡o̴ǹ̢ę̵ ̀͢b̵̢e͟͟͏fǫ͟͢r̀ę ̸̛I̕ ́m̢a̢̕ke̢͏ ̛y̨͟o͏̨u̢͢͡.”

“With what? Your lit̸t̷ļe̸ ļi͏gh͠t͟ning̵?” There had never before been a pair of words that filled Alt with as much anger as he was feeling now. A surge of green shot out from him in a wave, but the other guy didn’t even flinch. “You have a good swing, and you’re stronger than you look, but t̵h̛at̶?” The guy shrugged. “Could damage a human, but to me it’s m͠o͢r̵é ͝of a̷ b͡oo̴s̕t than anything.” He glitched away before Alt could attempt another attack, reappearing on the roof of one of the nearby one-story buildings.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” Alt shouted.

The guy stared down at him. He...wasn’t blinking. At all. “I want to know how you’re doing that. I think you’re húm̨an͝, but in my experience organic matter can’t glitch. At least, not we͝ll. Or s̶a̕fe̛l͞y͠. And then, I want to make sure you know w͟her̀e ̧th̶e͢ ͏hel̶l͡ you’re going.”

Wait...was this guy offering to help? Yeah, no. In Alt’s experience, people who insulted you and then tried to help you out were bad news. “Thanks, but no thanks.” He turned away, starting down the road. “I can figure it out on my own!”

The guy laughed. “Oh, yeah, good luck making it in this city. Choose your fate: would you prefer to be s̢hot,͟ bea̸t͠én t͞o ͞d̨ea̛th, torn͏ ͠òp̛en̸, ͝bùr̕n̢e̵d̷ ͏alive,͡ o̷r ͡h͞ypno̷t̷izèd?” When Alt didn’t turn around, he raised his voice. “I know you’re not from a̵ro͠u͏nd ͝her͟e͟, kid! Or maybe you just live under a rock! Otherwise you’d know that the only people walking around at one in the morning are either c̵ŕi͟m̸in̨a̢l̷s or v͞ìct̴im͠s̸. It’s really fucking stupid to go out on your own!”

Alt spun back around. “If you’re so eager to keep me safe then stop yelling shit at me!”

“Y̛ou͟ ̶s̛tar̵te͡d i̵t!” He either didn’t notice or didn’t care how childish that sounded. “But alright, let’s start over. I’m called A̢n̕ti, and you are?”

Alt froze. “What did you say?”

“I said I’m called Anti.” His eyes narrowed. “Why? Sound fa̷mil̕i̴a̶r͠?”

Alt’s breathing quickened. “Is this—is this another one of Magnificent’s tricks? Do you work for him?!”

“That half-cat-faced b͏l̴ac̷k̵ ͢mągįc di̴p̷shi̢t? Fuck no.”

“You’re lying!” Alt screamed. “How else would you know?! How do you know my real name?!”

Anti’s eye widened. In an instant, he was back on the ground. “That’s your name?” he breathed. “That’s impossible.”

Alt began backing up, looking up and down the street for the tell-tale glowing eye of the magician. “I—I won’t go back to him! You can’t make me!” His glitches sprung up around him, and he almost felt like he was in two places at once.

“I’m not gonna fucking—! Look, my full name is A͢n̷t̷i͞s̀ep̛tìceye, that can’t possibly be yours. Right?”

That even sounded made-up. Alt couldn’t see any sign of Magnificent, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there. He made a split-second decision and glitched away, reappearing down the street. He took off, a combination of flat sprinting and glitching making a wild route away until he was even more lost then he already was.

“Hey wait!” Anti almost ran after him, but stopped. This kid—didn’t matter how old he was, compared to Anti he was a child in age—clearly didn’t trust him, and probably wouldn’t listen to a word he said. Maybe he shouldn’t have retaliated when he called him a dumbass. If he didn’t hate his temper sometimes... whatever, what’s done is done. He’d fucked it up. The kid was never going to let him come within three feet of him now, let alone answer his questions.

Part of him wanted to just show the kid how dangerous this city was, but most of him balked at that idea. After all, how was he supposed to figure out what this kid was if the kid was dead? Anti smiled. Luckily, if there was one thing this city had, it was cameras. Businesses had them, the streets had them, even people had them on their phones. He’d just watch the kid, see what he did. If he got into trouble, he’d get him out. Maybe then he’d listen to him.

And with one final burst of pixels, Anti vanished. Worlds had collided tonight, and only time would tell what would happen next, if anything did.

#see i think the difference is that i!marvin is more combat-oriented in spells and magnificent is mostly mind tricks #also i!marvin has four others that he (sometimes reluctantly) works with so he's got a support system while mag is pretty alone here #also alt and anti being just awful to each other is really great its fun dialogue to write i thank the rp huffle and i did for inspiration #let me know if you want a second crossover episode this was really fun to write so i left it open on purpose #jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #septics inverted au #marvin the magnificent #antisepticeye #swapboys #invertedau #brigid writes fanfiction

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