#dudes this scene drives me UP THE WALL
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
even though it’s the last thing he wants to be doing I think that carmy stokes the fire of the fear of abandonment that sydney has and it really shows itself during the chaos menu spat. one of the things he says there that is a little overlooked is “claire made me realize maybe there are some things I don’t care about anymore” and that line feels so direct, so targeted. throughout this entire endeavor syd’s been anxious about his distance, not just because he’s losing focus but because there are a million and one things carm isn’t telling her. that feeling of being left behind and not needed creeps in because of carmy’s lack of communication.
syd’s mom didn’t abandon her but it’s still an unfinished story that she’ll never get answers to. now with the bear she’s creating her own story with carmy but he’s pulling away, making decisions without her and looking over the menu with some girl who has no stake in this big risk they’re taking *together*. sydney has walls up and she is guarded, and there’s still many things he doesn’t know about her but they’ve been breaking down those walls slowly and making the bear a reality was supposed to be another way to be in each other’s lives for real and make more space for each other’s vulnerability.
her saying “you could do this without me” under the table isn’t out of nowhere!! he’s been making her feel like he doesn’t need her!! even though he doesn’t mean to at all!!
it’s just unbelievable that what’s going through syd’s mind is “don’t give up on this. want me like I want you.”, meanwhile carmen is in the back alley picturing her, his tether to this plane of existence, to calm down from a panic attack.
#dudes this scene drives me UP THE WALL#there’s so many layers I didn’t even get to all of it but yeah#if they have an argument next season it needs to cover so much#I need these two to stop dancing around the issue and get into it#carmy x sydney#sydney x carmy#sydcarmy#the bear
217 notes
·
View notes
Text
Apparently it's a universal requirement of priest novels that one of the main characters has to be The Most Annoying Man Alive
#tho spl is the first time I've found the most annoying man alive actually annoying#reading about xp driving everyone around him bonkers in ts is a blast#and watchjng fd drive lwz up the wall in md was also always a lot of fun#but GY in spl is legitimately frustrating me a bit#he's funny. but he's SO bad at dealing with others' feelings in a way that's a bit frustrating to read#you can't buy a freshly traumatized teenager's love with gifts dude#anyway I'm finishing vol 1 of spl since I paid for it#but it's uhhh. still gross tbh#at least they've stoped being actively heinously racist for a while (since there stopped being scenes with 'barbarians')#but it's also. like. REALLY fatphobic w how cg's friend is depicted#I find cg's setup as a character pretty compelling#young miserable disillusioned and burdened with the idea that he's cursed to go mad with bloodlust#I like that#and the xianxia mech thing is legitimately very cool#but those two points of investment and enjoyment are carrying me through a book that I otherwise find kinda gross in a lot of ways#andie reads spl
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
I know this is not new information, but I've seen a fresh wave of people confused about what the fuck Andrew planned to do as a 5'0 man with a knife against the literal mafia, so.
I think the fact that neither Neil nor Kevin lost their faith in Andrew’s ability to protect them after he was attacked by Drake (unable to stand his ground against a single man with a bottle, let alone the Yakuza/Nathan with their guns) is the best proof we have that the deal was never about physical protection. This is confirmed by the way Neil never expects Andrew to save him from his father, in fact cuts him loose before Baltimore as soon as danger is truly near.
Andrew is a pretty self-aware character, and he wouldn't make promises he knows he can't possibly see through, so I think he knows what Kevin and Neil also know: what they need from him, and thus what he promises, is not physical protection.
To Kevin, he promises safety from the Moriyamas, and the way we see him enact that safety (at Kathy's show, at the banquet) shows exactly what it's about: when Riko starts getting into your head, when he makes you doubt yourself, makes you think maybe you should go back to Evermore, I won't let you. I will get you away from him, I will treat him like he's just some dude to remind you that you can face him without kneeling. I will be your spine until you find your own, I will stand my ground for you until you can do it yourself.
That's why the scene when Kevin gets to the dorm with his tattoo and Andrew's eyes show so much feeling is huge not just for Kevin but for Andrew: because that was the whole point of their deal, Kevin has found his spine, Andrew bought him the space and time to do it.
To Neil, he promises safety from the people hunting him down, and that means: I will give you something to build a life around (keys, drives to nightly exy practices, someone to lean on, someone who will listen without flinching). When you feel like running, I will be someone you can call to come pick you up. When you forget, I will remind you who you are: Neil Abram Josten.
Andrew stands between Kevin and Riko and between Neil and his father not as an impenetrable wall but as an obstacle in their vision: not shield but focal point.
(Makes me think of that scene in The Haunting of Hill House, Hugh holding Steven's neck to keep him from looking at the ghosts, saying, Look at me, just look at me, keep your eyes on me. That's what Andrew’s constantly doing --even literally, when Kevin is spiralling after Wymack tells the team about the district change and Andrew makes him look away from his broken hand and up at him).
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
episode four: the sauna test
Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!” “What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time. “Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent. Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys.
Summary: dustin has some brotherly concern for you (dont tell anyone though), steve is offended you dont think he can fight, nancy gets upset during therapy hour, robin encourages child endangerment, erica becomes your hero, and you lose your lunch on hawkins makeshift tower of terror (aka sketchy russian elevators)
Rating: general, swearing
Warnings: swearing, use of y/n, fem!reader
Words: 7.5k
Before you swing in: hello my loves ! had a busy may wrapping up finals, move out, and adjusting back to life at home. i finally had the time to write this, and while im still iffy with some parts, im just excited to finally be at the elevator scene tbh. ive been DYING to write her. enjoy !!
-
Dustin stands outside your room the next morning, fist hovering over the door, unsure if he should knock. It’s early and he can’t get the panic he saw in your eyes last night out of his head. He hasn’t seen you that consumed with anxiety since you guys were kids and your parents began to fight.
He feels horrible for putting you in that position last night, at odds with him, Robin, and Steve.
Especially Steve.
Dustin hadn’t meant to start a fight between you and the teen. Contrary to popular belief, he actually does want the two of you together, but now he’s worried he’s somehow caused a rift in your relationship.
Sighing, your brother allows his knuckles to rap against your door. When he doesn’t hear anything, he slowly opens it and pokes his head in. You’re asleep in your bed, blankets strewn everywhere, and Dustin knows he’s fucked up because you almost never sleep in this late.
Now he’s worried he’s going to have to force you into a code blue.
Dustin lets himself into your room and stands before your bed. Then, because he’s your brother and finds it hard to express his worries for you in a normal way, he pokes your cheek with his finger. “Wake up.”
You stir at the touch but remain asleep. Dustin groans and starts repeatedly poking you. “Dude, get up.” He now starts poking your nose, your forehead and eyebrows, anywhere his finger can reach.
Finally the onslaught of pokes to your face is enough to wake you up. You raise your hand and slap Dustin away as you scrunch your face in displeasure. “Why do you always insist on waking me up this way?”
“It’s fun for me.”
You slap at your brother again and take a moment to stretch. Your body is exhausted, you got home late last night after your drive with Jonathan. Once the two of you had been done discussing your relationship problems, you both decided to just drive around Hawkins and simmer in your limited time together. For those few hours, only the two of you existed.
Yawning, you blink your eyes open at Dustin. “Is there a reason you’re waking me up before my alarm is supposed to go off?”
Dustin’s smug smile falls. He coughs and starts to fidget with his fingers. “Oh, I was just–well. Last night… Do you wanna talk about it?”
The implications of your brother’s words cause you to fully wake up. “Is this your poor attempt at commencing a code blue?”
“Well, do we need a code blue?”
You roll over and throw your blankets over your head, blocking out the world. “I already talked about my feelings last night with Jonathan, please give me at least twenty-four hours to recover.”
Dustin flicks your ear that pokes out from under the blankets at the mention of Jonathan. “Why were you with that guy last night?”
“Stop touching my face!” You yell at the kid, annoyed. “And because he’s my best friend. We both had shitty nights so we drove around and cried together.”
Your brother pauses. “Did you actually cry together?”
“No,” you now uncover your face and sigh. “Only I cried, but it was therapeutic nonetheless.”
Dustin drops his head, remembering how upset you’d been standing in the hallway last night with the others. “I’m sorry about last night, Y/N.”
“Hey, no.” You sit up now and force him to look at you. “No apologizing. I understand.”
Your friends have all gone their separate ways this summer and I know you’re so fixated on the Russians because you’re lonely. I understand, and I’m here for you.
It goes unsaid, but Dustin knows that you have him all figured out, though it doesn’t ease the guilt he feels for dragging you into all of this in the first place. “You don’t have to join me at Scoops today, Y/N.”
“I know, but I will anyway after my shift.” I have to keep you safe.
“We both know you’re only going to make sure I don’t burn the place down.” You worry too much.
“Oh, don’t think I won’t call Steve once this conversation is done to make sure he keeps an eye on you.” I know, but it’s my job and I love you.
“You’re the worst.” I love you, too.
You ruffle Dustin’s hair with a fond smile. It’s an intricate thing, the hidden language that can only be found between siblings. All that goes unsaid becomes masked behind teasing and taunts, but you both hear what’s underneath.
When Dustin leaves your room to go to the mall, you roll over in bed and reach for the phone that rests on top of your desk. Your fingers press the numbers that have become ingrained within your brain from countless nights of dialing. The line rings only one time before Steve’s tired voice answers.
“Hello?”
You smile hearing his voice, despite the distance that seems to have now formed between you. “Hi, honey.”
There’s rustling on the other end of the line and you know Steve still lays in his own bed only ten minutes from your own. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine,” you quickly reassure him, wincing when you realize you don’t normally call him so early. “Sorry, I was just calling to ask if you’d keep an eye on Dustin today? With the Russians and everything, I have work today and can’t be there–”
“Of course I’ll keep an eye on your brother, Y/N.” Steve gently interrupts your anxious rambling.
“Thank you,” you say softly with a laugh, embarrassed.
“Are we…” Steve hesitates, unsure how to find the right words. “Are we okay? I know things were–uh, weird. Last night. And that I was a dick and I just, I’m really sorry, Y/N. For everything.”
You close your eyes and exhale slowly, knowing that there’s more that Steve wants to say but is too afraid to tell you. Too ashamed to say that he’s embarrassed as well for allowing his pride to cloud his judgment, and you’re too exhausted to try and remind him again that you love him despite it all. “We’re okay, Steve. I promise.”
He takes a moment to respond, he doesn’t know what else to say. He’s never been good at this. Finally, he settles on what he’s able to give you. It seems that’s all he’s been able to do lately. “I’ll miss you today, angel.”
“I’ll miss you too, honey.” The name slips from your tongue in a languid manner, the warmth that accompanies the word still wraps itself around your body and reminds you of the love you feel for the boy. You hope he can feel the warmth too, you hope it descends down the landline and wraps around him as well. “I’ll see you after work.”
–
Your day only gets worse from there.
After only an hour or so of sadly sorting through books at work without a customer in sight, you hear a frail scream come from Mrs. Waters’ office. You run towards the woman in a heartbeat, panic stricken and afraid of what you’ll find.
Mrs. Waters is sitting tiredly in her office with her head in her hands when you run in. The usually upbeat woman is hunched over with despair and you’re quick to rush over to her with worry. “Mrs. Waters, is everything okay?”
She rubs at her temples and it’s then that you realize her telephone is in her hand. Without bothering to look, she clumsily places it back on the wall and looks up at you with sad, tired eyes. “I’m fine, dear. I–I just had a fright, that’s all.”
“What happened?” You pull a chair to sit next to the woman and grab her wrinkled, yet soft, hands.
“Oh, I’m old.” Mrs. Waters smiles at you sadly. There are tears in her eyes as she takes a deep breath to try and steady her nerves. “My, you would think I’d be used to phone calls from the hospital.”
“The hospital?”
Hearing the panic in your voice, your boss grabs the hands you have placed on top of her’s and squeezes with reassurance. “It wasn’t for me, dear.”
You’re still anxious for the woman in front of you. “Who then?”
“They called me for an old friend,” Mrs. Waters clutches at her chest with a certain fear that you’ve never seen within the woman. “She’s in the hospital because some young journalist found her eating fertilizer in her home last night. She’s always been… troubled.”
You gasp and pull away from your boss and your mind reels with this new information. Jonathan’s voice echoes within the walls of your mind, of his story of the woman he and Nancy had found last night after investigating the rats.
Mrs. Waters frowns at your unexpected reaction and notices the fear on your face. “Dear, I’m sure my friend will be alright–”
“What…” your voice shakes, and you clear your throat. “What���s your friend’s name, Mrs. Waters?”
The old woman sighs, sensing there’s something more to your worry, but her heart hurts for her friend and she’s seen more in her almost seventy years than she’s ever wanted to. “Her name is Doris Driscoll.”
–
You’re sent home early after your conversation with Mrs. Waters. She had been too worried for her friend and saw how shaken up by it you seemed to be as well, so she patted your arm and dismissed you.
“There’s no point keeping the store open today, Y/N. Go home to that cute boy of yours while I go visit an old friend.”
You had tried arguing with her, but even you knew it was no use.
Biking to Starcourt, now more than ever worried about your job, you feel your birthday looming over you and the worries of Nancy’s involvement with rats and old women eating fertilizer mixed with Jonathan’s fears.
This was supposed to be a good summer.
Your head spins as you walk into the backdoor of Scoops Ahoy, finding Robin, Steve, and Dustin all circled around the table as they discuss how to enter the Russian storage room.
“What? I sneak up behind, knock him out, and I take his keycard.” Steve is explaining when you walk in. He has his leg propped against the seat next to him as he twirls his sailor’s hat in his hand. “It’s easy.”
“Did you not hear the part about the massive gun?” Dustin blinks at the teen, having little faith in his confidence.
You make your way towards the group and lift Steve’s propped leg up so that you can sit before placing the leg across your lap. Feeling your touch, he looks up with surprise to see you, having expected your shift to end later in the day. “Y/N?”
“You’re not going near any Russian men with guns, Steve.” You say to him in lieu of a greeting.
Steve deflates in his seat. “That’s why I’d be sneaking.”
Dustin shares a look with you, the two of you remembering all the times Steve has tried, and failed, to win a fight. Clearing his throat, your brother crosses his arms and winks at you before turning to the teen. “Alright, please tell us this, and be honest. Have you ever actually… won a fight?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, that was one time–”
“Twice, honey.” You interrupt him with a smile, enjoying this conversation maybe a little too much. “Jonathan, remember him?”
“Listen, that doesn’t count.”
“Oh, but it does.” You pinch Steve’s shin. “He kicked your ass, I was there.”
He winces and moves his legs off of you. “He didn’t kick my ass–”
“You got a fat lip, crooked nose, swollen eye.” Dustin adds on, leaning against your chair now as the two of you gang up on Steve.
“He even pinned you at one point. I distinctly remember thinking he was going to kill you.” You say, smirking.
Steve scoffs. “Oh, you did not have any concern for me then–”
You hit his shoulder. “Yes I did! I’ve always been worried about you–”
“Can you guys not make everything about your weird relationship for like, three seconds, please?” Dustin whines as you and Steve start to bicker about something else entirely.
As the three of you argue, Robin seems to get an idea and runs out of the room. Noticing her sudden absence, you turn to Steve and frown. “What’s Robin up to?”
He stands up and sees her snatching money from the tip jar before running off. Steve calls after her, but she doesn’t slow down as she runs out of the shop. “What are you doing?”
“I need cash!” She says, as if that explains everything.
“Isn’t half of the tip money Steve’s?” You ask, now standing next to him by the register alongside Dustin.
“I’ll pay your boyfriend back later, Y/N.” Robin continues to walk towards the shop’s exit. “I’m going to find us a way into that room, a safe way, just like I promised you.”
You’re oddly touched that she remembered your insistence on keeping everyone safe. With a smile, you call across to her, “thank you!”
Robin blushes and forces herself to look away from you so that she can direct her attention to Steve. “In the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don’t get beat up. I’ll be back in a jiff!”
As you and Steve watch Robin leave, the two of you turn and catch Dustin licking at one of the ice cream scoops. You whack him with the back of your hand and cringe at him. “Dude, what the hell?”
Dustin flinches away from you as Steve snatches the scoop from the boy with his own disgusted look. “Not my scooper, man.”
“Why are you like this?” You ask your brother with disappointment in your voice, to which he huffs at.
“I’m a curious person.” You scoff at Dustin and he rolls his eyes at you before making his way out from behind the ice cream counter. “If I’m going to be judged, then I’m going to the arcade while we wait for whatever Robin has planned.”
He’s gone without another word, leaving you alone with Steve.
It’s still early in the day and there’s only a few customers in Scoops Ahoy, so it’s just you and Steve. It’s the first time you’ve been alone together since last night, when you’d been standing in front of him, begging him to listen to you, and all he could do was watch you silently with pain in his own eyes.
As if coming to this realization himself, Steve coughs and rocks back and forth awkwardly. He knows you told him this morning that everything was okay between you two, but things still feel off. Despite your best efforts, he can tell that you’re still struggling to seem okay with the whole Russian debacle. You’re still frail looking, unsure and anxious, and Steve hates that he’s the reason why.
Hesitantly, he reaches for your hand. “Care to, uh. Join me in the backroom?”
You raise your eyebrows at his question. “Are you propositioning me, Harrington?”
“No!” His eyes widen in fear and his voice squeaks, which only embarasses him more. He clears his throat and tries to swallow down his dread. “I mean, not like that. I figured we could, you know… talk.”
Now it’s your turn to fill with dread. He’s seen through you, despite your best efforts to try and appease everyone. Squeezing his hand, you nod at Steve and allow him to guide you into the backroom.
Steve pulls a chair out from the table and sits down, and before you can process what’s happening, he pulls you down and into his lap. You throw your arms around his neck to steady yourself at the sudden movement, which only makes Steve’s proud smile widen. “You planned that, didn’t you?”
“Sure did, angel.”
You laugh and shake your head at him, tightening your arms around his neck and settling into his lap. He rests his hands on your thighs and stares at you with such warmth, such patience, content to simply have you here with him. Despite the uncertainty that seems to now loom over the two of you, there’s still a certainty within it. There’s still a trust that accompanies the hesitancy, and it’s this trust that caresses your cheek and coaxes you to speak.
“I don’t like what we’re doing, Steve.” You confess to him, making your words as plain as possible so that nothing gets misconstrued; too often your words have gotten lost in translation.
Steve nods slightly, his eyes never leave yours, and he listens. “I get that, I do, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel bad about standing your ground. It’s just… I wanted to go along with Dustin, pretend for a few days that I’m not some moron who couldn’t get into college, you know?”
“You’re not an idiot,” you fix a piece of Steve’s hair that has fallen out of his sailor’s hat and sigh. “But there’s more to this than just my stupid need to protect everyone.”
“Did something else happen?”
You hesitate, unsure if what’s been on your mind holds any real weight, or if you’re just being paranoid now after everything you’ve been through these last few years. Biting your lip, you decide that it’s Steve you’re telling this to. Paranoid or not, he’ll listen and try to help you piece it all together as well. He always does. “A few days ago I saw Billy stumbling on the side of the road. He was… bleeding.”
Steve’s eyes harden at the teen’s name and instinctively his grip on you tightens. “Did he do anything to you?”
“No,” you breathe out sharply, remembering how disoriented Billy had been. He was in no condition to cause you any harm, which in itself frightened you. “There was something off about him, Steve. I–I can’t explain it, but a day before I saw Billy, I had been with Will and he was almost similar to Billy, I guess? He just–he was frozen, staring off into space, until I got his attention again.”
“Why do I feel like there’s something else you’re not telling me?”
You sigh. “Because there is. There’s always something else in the fucking town.” Anger begins to rise within you and you force yourself to swallow it down. Now isn’t the time for the anger that always simmers just below the surface, waiting. “I talked to Jonathan last night. He’s been with Nancy investigating rabid rats and an old woman who was caught eating her fertilizer.”
“Christ,” Steve exhales with bewilderment.
“And now Russians in Hawkins? What are the odds of this all happening within the same week?”
“Do you…” Looking around, Steve lowers his voice. “Do you think it’s happening again?”
“I don’t think so, El told us she closed the gate, but… I can’t explain any of this, either.” You feel helpless, and you hate it. There’s something you’re missing, there’s something connecting it all, and yet you’re going in circles.
It all can’t just be a coincidence, and it’s a horrible, maddening feeling.
And Steve tries to absolve you from it. “We’ll figure it out, together. You and me, even if you want to kill me by the time we’re done, I promise you that I’ll help you–” The phone starts to ring, cutting Steve off, and he sighs. Patting your thighs, he silently asks you to get up so that he can answer it.
Lazily walking over to the ringing phone, Steve picks it up with slight annoyance. “Scoops Ahoy, this is Steve.” There’s a feminine voice on the other line, which he frowns at, before handing the phone to you. “It’s for you?”
Surprised, you stand up and take the phone, unsure who would be calling for you at the ice cream shop. “Hello?”
“Y/N, it’s me. Um, hi.”
“Nancy?”
“I–uh, I called your job and this older lady told me you’d be at Scoops Ahoy? I needed someone to talk to, and I–I just,” She clears her throat, and it’s only now that you notice the exhaustion in her voice and how thick it sounds from dried up tears. “You know what? This is weird, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry–”
“Hey, no.” You fumble with the telephone cord and desperately wish you were with Nancy right now. After what Jonathan told you last night, you feel horrible for the girl, and from the sound of it, she needs someone there for her right now. “Talk to me, Nance. What happened?”
You hear her inhale a shaky breath, always the first to try and disguise any upset and hurt she may be feeling for the sake of others. She takes another deep breath, exhales slowly, and then begins to talk. “Jonathan and I had a fight.”
She tells you everything, from Mrs. Driscoll and the rats to Tom firing them for falsely identifying as reporters. It’s everything Jonathan told you last night, all his worst fears come true, except Nancy also tells you what he told her this morning. How condescending he had been, how he had reminded her of how poor he is, how he belittled her need to figure everything out herself.
“He kept defending all those assholes, Y/N.” More tears lace within Nancy’s voice. “He wouldn’t listen to me. He just kept repeating over and over again about how he needed the job, as if it wasn’t the single more humiliating thing I’ve ever had to endure.”
There’s so much you want to say, but you’re afraid it will only come out wrong. “I can’t imagine what you had to go through, Nance. I know those men were horrible to you, but you understand where Jonathan is coming from, right?”
“I mean, I thought I did, but,” she sniffs, her voice is soft and defeated. “I’m not so sure anymore. It feels like we can’t understand each other, like we’re physically incapable of seeing eye to eye. I know he has to provide for his family, I–I love that he takes care of them, that he always does what’s right, and yet it infuriates me sometimes.”
You can’t help but chuckle at what Nancy has said. She sounds so much like Jonathan in this moment, reminiscent of him telling you that her ambition is what he loves about her, and here she is saying his integrity is what she loves about him. “God, you two and your pride; you sound just like Jonathan. He said practically the same thing about you last night–”
“Jonathan talked to you about this?” Nancy’s voice becomes cold, defensive, and you know you’ve just said the wrong thing.
“Well, I mean,” you frantically try to alleviate the situation. “He only wanted advice, that’s all.”
Nancy scoffs, and you feel your heart drop. “So he can tell you all about how he feels, but bottles it up when it comes to his girlfriend?”
Well, fuck.
“He was scared and overwhelmed.” You try to keep your voice neutral, not wanting the girl to assume you’re on anyone’s side. “It’s a difficult situation, and he came to me for help just like you are right now.”
Jealousy claws at Nancy suddenly, it clashes against the hurt within her. Jonathan went to you, as he’s always done, he sought solace in you for the emotions within him that he still has yet to share with her. It reminds her, then, just how little she knows about him still. How many years stretch between you and Nancy when it comes to Jonathan.
“I’m sure you know all about how he feels,” she says bitterly, unable to stop herself. “The two of you understand one another.”
You sense that there’s something important with what she’s just said. The words were said with a history behind them, an insecurity that you cannot compensate for, and you feel defenseless against Nancy. “He was hurt, and so are you–”
“God, I should’ve known you’d take his side! I mean, you two always do this. I’m such an idiot.”
Panic begins to surround you. “Nancy, I’m not taking anyone’s side, just please listen to me–”
The line goes dead as Nancy hangs up.
Numb, you place the phone back on the wall and stare blankly at it. The pressure of tears presses against your eyes and you try to steady your breathing. You’ve hurt Nancy, you’ve caused a rift between you that threatens to collapse into a chasm, and you don’t know what to do.
Steve sees that you’re fighting back tears and he tugs you against his chest. His embrace soothes you, but when he asks what happened, all you can do is shake your head, too overwhelmed to speak. There’s too much to explain, a history between you and Jonathan that you know Steve accepts, and yet now you’re terrified you’ll somehow hurt him like you’ve hurt Nancy.
“I’m sorry, angel.”
Neither of you are sure what Steve is apologizing for, but it’s enough for now.
So much for an easy summer.
–
“It is fascinating what twenty bucks will get you at the County Recorder’s Office.” Robin places a giant sheet of paper onto the table. On it are lines and shapes all drawn in blue with an intricate layout. You lean in close to inspect it as Robin continues explaining. “Starcourt Mall, the complete blueprints.”
Dustin praises her idea and you hesitantly agree; you would’ve never thought of asking for the mall’s blueprints. “You’ve got my attention.”
She smiles and starts to explain her plan. “This is us, Scoops,” her fingers trace over the paper as she guides you and the boys through the blueprint. “And this is where we want to get.”
“I don’t really see a way in.” Steve points out, now sitting at the table with an arm wrapped around you.
“There’s not,” Robin casts the top blueprint aside and reveals another one underneath. It’s similar in design, although this one lacks more shapes and is mostly lines. “If you’re talking exclusively about doors.”
You squint at the drawings, trying to figure out what they remind you of. “Are those…”
“Air ducts!” Dustin finishes for you, impressed with Robin’s idea.
“Safe, practical, and wouldn’t involve guns.” Turning to the girl, you nod at her and wink. “Buckley, you really keep your promises.”
Robin bows playfully. “Turns out, this secret room needs air just like any old room, and these air ducts,” she grabs a marker from the whiteboard and circles Scoops on the blueprints before drawing a winding line down to the hidden vault and circling it as well. “Lead all the way here.”
The four of you all look up at the vent above you, and while the idea seems like the safest option, you can’t help but wonder how horribly wrong it could go as well. You’ve never had the best luck, not when it comes to Hawkins, and the air ducts seem almost too easy of a solution to trust.
Steve finds a screwdriver in one of the shop’s drawers and takes apart the air vent with Dustin’s help. You stand next to Robin and watch with slight weariness, unsure where to go from here. Once Steve has removed the vent, he shines a flashlight inside and winces.
“I don’t know, guys. It’s a tight fit.”
“I can do it,” you step forward. “Can’t be that bad, right?”
Steve looks down at you from the ladder. “This feels like a trap.”
“Move, Harrington.” Once he’s off the ladder, you climb up yourself. When you look into the vent, your heart drops. It is a tight fit, there’s no way you’ll be able to crawl through it. Defeated, you climb down the ladder. “Well, shit.”
“I’ll fit.” Dustin now speaks up.
“No you will not.”
He rolls his eyes at you. “No collar bones, remember?”
“Excuse me?” Robin has never been more confused in her life.
Steve begins to explain Dustin’s medical condition while you continue arguing with your brother. “I’m not letting you do this!”
“You got the healthy genes while I got the rare genetic condition, Y/N.” Dustin starts to climb up the ladder as you tug at his shirt to try and stop him. “Let me abuse it!”
“But–”
Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll handle this, Y/N.”
You step back, hoping that he’ll talk some sense into your brother, but to your horror he only makes things worse. Dustin starts to climb into the vent with Steve below him, but he gets stuck about halfway in. “Steve, push me!”
The teen looks at you, unsure what the right call here is. “Do I…?”
“Yeah, just push the kid.” You rub your eyes, tired. “He’s already almost in the damn air duct anyways.”
Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!”
“What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time.
“Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent.
Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys.
The two boys argue, Dustin commanding Steve to push him harder as the teen tries his best to shove the kid, and Robin leans over to you. “Remind me, why are you into Harrington again?”
All you can do is sigh at her question, having no good answer as you watch Steve now manhandle Dustin and scream back insults at him.
They look ridiculous.
“Ahoy, sailors!” Someone rings the register’s bell impatiently. “All hands on deck!”
You and Robin turn to find Erica standing at the register as she repeatedly rings the bell and demands her daily free samples. You’re about to respond to her when you see Robin raise her eyebrows; it’s clear she’s thought of something.
“Would… Erica fit in the vent?”
Your hand snatches at Robin’s arm as you pull her away from the shop’s window. “Absolutely not. We’re not getting Erica involved!”
“C’mon, Y/N. She’s small, she could easily fit–”
“She’s ten.” She’s too young. You’ve always regretted that Dustin and the party were twelve when everything began.
You’ll be damned if you ruin another child’s life.
But Robin doesn’t know any of this, and she ignores you as she runs to the register and recruits Erica before you can stop her. Within a minute you have a very curious Erica Sinclair climbing the ladder up to the vent as she shines a flashlight through it.
You stand below her, helpless.
“Yeah, I don’t know.” She climbs down after a few minutes of studying the vent’s dimensions.
“You don’t know if you can fit?” Dustin asks.
Erica leans against the table and studies the four of you with distaste. “Oh, I can fit. I just don’t know if I want to.”
“Are you claustrophobic?” Robin teases her, but you only feel sympathy for the girl.
You step towards Erica, trying one last time to reason with her. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You can back down now, no one will blame you. In fact, I will give you all my allowance if you say no.”
Dustin elbows you roughly to get you to shut up, he knows what you’re trying to do. You glare at him and rub your now tender shoulder. When you look towards Steve and Robin for backup, both teens send you pleading glances similar to the ones from last night.
Once again, you’re the odd man out.
None of this is what you want.
“I don’t have phobias,” Erica informs Robin. Then, she turns to you, “and no one tells me what to do.”
Steve crosses his arms. “Okay, well. What’s the problem?”
“The problem is, I still haven’t heard what’s in this for Erica.”
Ten minutes later, you’re sitting in a booth with the others as Steve slides Erica a freshly made sundae.
“More fudge, please.” She requests, pleased she’s won.
Steve looks at you, already fed up with the kid, and you feel no sympathy for him. “Go on, get the girl her bribery fudge. This is what you wanted.”
He cringes at the sarcasm in your voice and knows you’re once again pissed at him. Defeated, he hangs his head low and leaves to get Erica more fudge without another word. Once he’s gone, Robin opens up her blueprints and shows the girl the air ducts. “You see this? This is the route you’re going to take.”
You sit there quietly as Dustin and Robin talk to Erica. After they’ve explained the entire plan, she mentions that this all sounds like child endangerment. You let out an exhausted chuckle. “It does, doesn’t it? Isn’t that just hilarious to think about?”
Robin tries to reassure both you and Erica. “We’ll be in radio contact with you the whole time–”
“Ah, ah, ah!” Erica waves a finger in Robin’s face, unamused. “Child. Endangerment.”
“It’s a shame only you can see that.” You drop your head onto the table, entirely over the situation. “I mean, how can only the ten year old see how insane this is, huh?”
Dustin throws a straw at you and shushes you, annoyed with your theatrics. Clearing his throat, he turns to Erica. “We think these Russians want to do harm to our country.”
“Unconfirmed, actually.” You retort. With every passing minute, it becomes more and more evident that this really is happening, and there’s no way you can back out now; someone sane has to be there to protect everyone. Dustin and the others all seem deluded by the idea of fame and adventure, but all you want to do is keep your loved ones safe.
“Shut up,” Dustin shoves you further away from him as he tries to win over Erica’s agreement. “Great harm. Don’t you love your country?”
“You can’t spell ‘America’ without ‘Erica’.” She takes a sip from her drink, now listening.
You lift your head up from the table and share a baffled look with Dustin, both of you going through how to spell America in your heads. Amazingly, Erica is right. You really can’t spell the word without her name.
“Incredible,” you whisper, in complete disbelief.
Dustin shakes his head. “Uh, yeah. Oddly, that’s–uh, totally true… So, don’t do this for us. Do it for your country. Do it for your fellow man, for America – Erica.”
After your brother’s speech, Erica puts down her drink and mocks him, still not entirely sold on the whole child endangerment idea. Instead, she goes on a whole spiel about how she loves capitalism and paying people for their services while you sit there, head pounding with a headache.
“And it seems to me,” Erica concludes with a smile, “my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all. So, you want my help? This USS Butterscotch better be the first of many. I’m talking free ice cream for life.”
Robin and Dustin mirror exasperated expressions on their faces, but honestly? You get a kick out of Erica recognizing her worth; she’s brilliant. Without saying anything, you lift your hand up for Erica to high five, which she happily accepts.
“To child endangerment!” You cheer, your voice oozing sarcasm, and Erica follows suit as Robin and Dustin both slump in their seats.
–
It’s your idea to prep Erica for whatever she may find after crawling through the ducts. You shoved a helmet on her head and forced knee pads onto the girl, which she adamantly protested against.
“This is excessive, even for you.”
You held up money, which promptly shut her up. “Wear the protection and do exactly as I say, or lose $5.”
After she took the money, you then held out your switchblade for her to take as well. “And use this if anything happens, alright?”
Erica had stared at you, slightly surprised. “Why do you carry knives on you?”
“Ask questions later.”
Now you’re anxiously waiting on the mall’s rooftop once more with Dustin, Steve, and Robin as you radio Erica for updates.
“You nerds in position or what?” Her voice drones through the walkie’s speaker.
“Yeah, we’re in position.” Robin confirms. The three of you have been scouting the shipment deck for the last thirty minutes, making sure all the possible Russian guards were gone. “It’s all quiet up here, so you’ve got the green light.”
You take the walkie from Robin. “But be careful, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Be careful and green light, roger that. Commence Operation Child Endangerment.”
Robin snatches the walkie back and cringes at what Erica has said. “Can we maybe not call it that?”
“That's exactly what’s happening here.” You say with a snort.
“Thanks for the help, Y/N.”
You give Robin a thumbs up. “Anytime.”
Erica announces that she’s in the air ducts and you feel the familiar burden of fear creep through you as she now goes quiet. Steve’s hand finds yours and he attempts to ease your discomfort as you all wait. “Erica will be fine, Y/N.”
“Yeah, totally!” Robin tries to reassure you as well, though she looks nervous too.
The minutes drag by at an agonizingly slow pace. The three of you hold your breath, waiting for Erica’s assurance that she’s safe and okay, and you pray to whatever god that’s up there to listen and keep her safe.
If anything happens to her, it would only be your fault for not having learned your lesson sooner.
“Alright, nerds.” You let out a breath of relief when Erica radios again, and you can feel Steve exhale as well. He’d been worried, too. “I’m there.”
“Do you see anything?” Robin asks, voice alight with excitement now.
“Yeah, I see those boring boxes you’re so excited about.”
“Any guards?”
Erica pauses a moment, presumably scanning for any signs of danger, before responding. “Negative.”
You breathe out again with relief. At the very least, Erica is in a safe enough location.
However, Robin isn’t done asking questions yet. “Booby traps?”
“If I could see them, they’d be pretty shit traps, wouldn’t they?”
You grab the radio again from Robin. “Erica, have I told you that you’re my favorite child?”
“You haven’t, but I know I am,” there’s a bang over the other end of the walkie, then a loud thud followed by a grunt, before her voice comes through again. “I’m in.” Then, not even a minute later, the door to the vault begins to lift up, revealing a smug looking Erica on the other side.
You all stare at her in awe, and she snaps her fingers at you. “Free ice cream for life.”
Steve lets out a surprised laugh and a smile crosses your face as well. Even though you’re still entirely against what’s happening, you can’t believe that the plan worked. You guys successfully broke into a Russian vault.
That beats Demodogs any day.
You, Steve, Robin, and Dustin climb down from the roof to get to Erica as fast as you can. When you finally join her, you risk her fury and pull her into your arms for a hug. “You’re so much braver than I was at ten.”
Erica shoves you off of her. “That doesn’t at all surprise me.”
While you make sure she’s okay, Dustin and the others investigate the room. There’s boxes everywhere with tape all over them. Lifting one up onto a table, Steve turns to you. “Can I borrow that switchblade, Y/N?”
“She’s got it,” you point to Erica. “Talk to the kid.”
Steve frowns, having unexpected this, and, being scared of the girl, he laughs nervously. “Uh, Erica? Can I have that switchblade now?”
She rolls his eyes at him and digs through her pockets to retrieve it. “Aren’t you the man in the relationship? Why don’t you have your own pair of knives?”
You cover your mouth to try and stifle the laugh that escapes you, but it’s no use. Steve hears it and sticks his middle finger up at you before finally opening the box. Cutting through the tape, he opens the box’s flaps to find a metal storage container within them.
When Steve reaches his hand inside the box, you stop him. “Please, be careful.”
“I got this, angel.” However, he slows his movements and carefully grabs at the container’s handle. Slowly, he turns it, and it lets out a terrifying hiss as air escapes it. Removing the lid, more air comes crawling out and reveals four individual cylinders.
“Definitely not delicious noodles and sensible shoes.” You breathe out, and Steve hums in agreement.
“That’s a weird way of saying ‘you were right, Dustin’.” Your brother snarks, and you hit his shoulder to shut him up.
Meanwhile, Steve waves his hand at the four of you, motioning you to back up. “Uh, maybe you guys should, you know, stand back.”
Robin and Erica don’t hesitate to listen, but you and Dustin remain where you are. There’s a silent agreement between the two of you to not abandon Steve, he needs you. When he sees that you both haven’t listened, Steve pleads with you. “Just step back, please? I’m doing this for you guys, this could be dangerous.”
“No.” You and Dustin say at the same time.
Steve tries to argue again, but you remain firm in your stance. “I’m not leaving you. Ever.”
His words falter at the sincerity in your voice, and he wishes it was just the two of you alone right now so that he could stroke your cheek and kiss away your concerns. He’s filled with warmth by your care for him, but just like you would never put him in danger, Steve would never put you in any danger either.
He loves you with everything within him, he just wishes he could tell you this.
“If you die, I die.” Dustin proudly declares, breaking Steve out of his thoughts.
You stare at your brother, as does Steve, and together the two of you awkwardly pat the kid’s shoulder to acknowledge his sentiment. With a cough, you add, “Hendersons with Harrington.”
Steve clears his throat, overwhelmed and slightly off put by the bizarre support. “Okay, I guess.” He grabs at one of the cylinders and twists slowly, and when it unlocks, he lifts and reveals a bubbling green liquid. “What the hell?”
Robin asks what the substance is and you feel like you’ve lost your mind. You have no idea what the fuck is happening anymore. “God I hope it’s scary Kool-Aid”
As soon as the words have left your mouth, you feel rumbling beneath your feet.
Immediately, you know you’ve fucked up.
Dustin looks up at you in alarm. “Was that just me, or did the room move?”
“Booby traps,” Erica whispers, looking scared as well.
A mechanical whirring sound infiltrates your ears as the room starts to shake again, and every part of your body screams at you to run. Something is very, very wrong. Grabbing Dustin’s hand, you start to head towards the door. “We need to leave. Now.”
“Let’s go!” Robin follows you, not needing to be told twice, and grabs one of the vials of liquid as she does so.
“Which one is the button, Erica?” Dustin asks, fingers hovering over the control panel’s buttons after pressing one failed.
“Just press the damn button, nerd.”
You turn to her, panic rising. “He is, but nothing’s happening.”
“Press ‘open door’.”
Dustin presses the button again but still, nothing happens. Frantic to escape the room now, you shove him aside and try yourself. Your fingers press roughly against it, but still the doors won’t budge.
Steve joins, sliding next to you as he starts to try pressing the buttons. “Here, press the other button.”
You slap his hand. You’re overwhelmed and scared and anxious and he’s five seconds away from losing an eye. “I already did that!”
Dustin starts to argue with Steve now and they push you back, repeatedly hitting whatever they can touch, as Robin and Erica shout their own useless and unneeded advice that is helping absolutely no one. You stand behind the boys, hands pressed against your head as you start to hyperventilate with panic.
Then, walls come slamming down on all sides of the room, effectively kick starting your panic attack. The lights begin to flicker as the room suddenly drops. Your stomach lurches into your throat as you’re thrown downward, and instinctively you grab for Dustin in your panic as Steve grabs for you.
Everyone screams as you plunge into the darkness.
-
⌑ series masterlist
⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)
⌑ taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @thytorturedpoet @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking @criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98 @sucker-4-angst @kitdjarin1 @onecojg @innazra @areiofhope @spaghetittied @cultish-corner @g8sstuff @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @hsllfirescoops @l0ve-0f-my-life @newyorkangelbaby @aliceespector @chervbs @poppet055 @bookkeeperlove @bellenotthebeast @swiftieblyth @ladyobscurus @moon-flowerrs @estaticheart @dreamingofts18 @lanxsee @thecapricunt1616 @aheadfullofsteverogers @marvel-and-music @angie2274 @thescoopstroopers @xuimhao @rh1nestonecowg1rl @shelby-ren @carinacassiopeiae @eddiemunson-86-baby @ribbetzetoad @harryssideboobz @cherrycherry19 @mamamakaylamorgan23 @slttygeto @alltoomay @hiraethavis @torntaltos @eeniemeenie @latenightreadingpdf @gayandfairycore @aliceespector
#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things rewrite#slowburn#angst#nya#m's writing#steve is just a boy doing his best#and erica !!#WE FINALLY HAVE ERICA !!!
537 notes
·
View notes
Text
home (khj) | one shot.
—summary: when your home no longer feels like home.
—pairing: kim hongjoong x f!reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) established relationship au | fluff, smut, heavy angst
—word count: 24k
—content/warnings: *open-ended, sad ending* cussing/mature language, very platonic cuddling and biting btwn oc and bff lol, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, intoxication, house party scenes, club scenes, making out, protected/unprotected sex, hongjoong’s pull out game on 100, marking/hickeys, thumb sucking, slight choking, breast play, clit play, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, praising, car sex, *toxic relationship themes (hints of infidelity, gaslighting/manipulation, jealousy, anxiety, bad temper, multiple heartbreaks, crying, yelling/loud arguing, friends getting involved during fights) - please proceed with caution*
—on rotation: change - arin ray & kehlani ・burn - usher ・snooze (acoustic vers) - sza & justin bieber ・ i wish i hated you - ariana grande
Home.
When you think of the word home, plenty of things come to mind: your family, fun times in the backyard with the grill going, home-cooked meals, the smell of the fresh tree and peppermint during Christmas time;
Hongjoong.
It’s been a little over 2 years since Hongjoong has made a home in your heart and continues to— him being your other half and knowing you like the back of his hand. Things started off so beautifully, blossoming into the greatest love you’ve ever known. You remember the day you met him like it was yesterday, remembering every single detail down to the weather, where you were at, how you were feeling at that exact moment;
The excitement, the infatuation, the thrill, the chase.
As beautifully as those moments blossomed, there were other moments that came crashing down, too.
So when you think of the word home, plenty of other things come to mind: loud arguments and hurtful words, doors being slammed, glass hitting the wall, crying till the point your chest hurts;
Hongjoong.
—LATE JUNIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE
“Dude!” Wooyoung runs over to your circle of friends, pushing through the crowd that’s currently in Changbin’s living room. “Cops are outside, we gotta go!”
“What do you mean we gotta go, Woo? We took a fucking uber—”
“Shut it down! Now!” You hear the cops at Changbin’s door, urging for the party to be shut down immediately due to multiple complaints from neighbors for being too loud and disturbing the peace. Quite frankly, it was past 1am and Changbin still had his dj playing music. On top of that, people were outside constantly yelling during rounds of beer pong and being a mess, even down on the sidewalk.
You couldn’t say you were surprised.
However, you are surprised with how fast Wooyoung is booking it. You don’t even know where your other friends are at, or where he’s even going.
“Jung Wooyoung, what the fuck! Where are we going?” You continue to run past him, barely able to catch up especially while drunk.
“This way!” He cuts through the backyard, down the alley and towards a random car you truly don’t recognize.
“Whose car is that?! Wooyoung!” You call for him, but he hops in anyway, dragging you along with him. Everything happens way too fast, you don’t even realize you’re smushed in the backseat of a mini SUV, sitting on someone’s lap. Everyone in the car is loud, the music is loud, the driver is no other than Jeong Yunho—
“Yunho?” You furrow your brows as you peek over the passenger’s seat, quickly glancing down at the unfamiliar individual sitting there. “When did you drive to the party?! Whose car is this?!” You look over to see another unfamiliar individual plopped in the left seat, with Wooyoung in the middle— your friend Ara on said unfamiliar’s lap.
“I told you at lunch that I was driving and asked if you two needed a ride. It’s my cousin’s.” He laughs. “He’s out of town and left the car with us. Told me I could use it if I wanted to. Just make sure no one fucking yacks or else I’m tossing you out. No question.”
“You did not!” You reply to the part where he claims he told you. He probably did, but you can’t remember for the life of you.
“Sure did. You were too busy arguing or whatever with Bin.” Hm, sounds about right, you think. Yunho looks at the rearview mirror to meet your eyes before shifting back to the road. “By the way, this is Mingi. That’s San. And dude you're sitting on is—.”
“Hongjoong.” You look behind you and see Hongjoong giving you a small smile just as he says his name. His hands are awkwardly at his sides, rosy tint coloring the surface of his cheeks as he tries to keep still as much as possible.
“I’m.. so sorry about all of this.” You tell him as you hang onto the headrest in front of you, apologizing to Mingi when your fingers accidentally tug on a hair strand.
“All good.” Hongjoong chuckles, a little unsure of what to do with himself. He’s only met you about a couple of minutes ago, and you’re already on his lap. How sway?
“I saw Yunho while I was trying to find an easy way out and he called for me to follow him, so..” Wooyoung says, but your eyes quickly divert to one of your friends who had been gone the entire night.
“Ara, where have you even been all night?” You tap her arm.
“Around.” She giggles, enjoying herself on San’s lap. They continue to talk amongst each other, and it’s clear where she’s been all night. Welp, as long as she’s happy, and as long as you all are out of trouble’s way.
“Shit, sorry.” Yunho says, abruptly braking.
“Jesus fucking christ, Jeong Yunho.” You put your hand out to stop yourself from crashing into the headrest, another pair of arms suddenly wrapping around your waist to keep you steady.
“Woah there. You good?” Hongjoong still has his arms wrapped around your waist, and you can’t help but shyly nod. You are too drunk for this.
“I wasn’t gonna make it! Sorry!” He points at the yellow light.
“You would’ve made it.” Mingi laughs.
“What would you know, you’re high as shit.” Yunho sighs. “Never being DD again with my cousin’s car. For real. I got somebody high in the front seat and 5 people in the back seat.” He looks around while he patiently waits for the light to turn. “Good thing it’s kinda dead out here.” Yunho quickly turns. “Anywhere we can hang out for a bit?”
“You can go to mine, my roommate is gone for the weekend.”
“You sure?” You nod.
“Yeah. Thanks for driving and letting us squish in here.” You give Yunho a small smile. “We can order some food when we get to my place.”
“Sick.” Yunho presses on the gas, driving at a safe speed down to your apartment. You learn that San, Mingi and Hongjoong go to the neighboring university, but they’ve known Yunho since middle school. For a minute, you forget you’re sitting on Hongjoong’s lap with how comfortable you’ve gotten, conversing with your friends as Yunho continues to drive to the apartment. And Hongjoong doesn’t mind either; hell, he’s forgotten about the entire situation, his hands resting on your thighs. If anything, he’s determined it could help in case Yunho decides to do a hard-brake again. You don’t seem to be uncomfortable and that’s all that matters.
So, all is well and Yunho brings everyone to the apartment in one piece. You immediately hop off of Hongjoong’s lap and quickly thank him for tonight before taking the lead with Wooyoung to your apartment door. Everyone else trails behind at their own speed, with Hongjoong digging his hands into his pockets while he observes you and Wooyoung loudly laughing at your door. You’ve got your arm linked with his as you both crack jokes and playfully bicker. At one point, Wooyoung bites your shoulder, causing you to yelp in pain and push him off. It’s an interesting relationship, he thinks. He’s never seen people be so close and comfortable, but he supposes it’s nice that you two are able to be that way.
“Get comfortable!” You say as everyone finally makes their way inside, kicking their shoes off to the side. “Water is in the fridge, along with other drinks. Feel free to grab anything.”
“Should we order some pizza and chicken?” Yunho is already scrolling through his phone. “That sounds bomb right now.”
“Yeah, that does. Order it and let us know how much we should chip in.” Wooyoung plops onto the floor, grabbing your remote off of the coffee table. “Dude, it’s still pretty early.”
“This is early to you?”
“The night is very much still young, my dear.” He says, pinching your cheeks. You smack his hand away before yawning into your own hands, excusing yourself to the bathroom to change and get comfy while everyone gets situated around the living room. Wooyoung throws on a random scary movie for some source of entertainment, some source of background noise. You quickly wash up and change into a matching hoodie and sweats set, startling yourself when you damn near run into Hongjoong lingering in your hallway. “Oh shit, you scared me.”
“Sorry.” He chuckles. “I don’t mean to seem like a creep, but I was just looking for your bathroom.. but.. I see you just came out of it, so..” He scratches at his temple and you giggle.
“I’m all done.” Hongjoong nods and brushes past, hurriedly making his way to the toilet to break the seal. Once he’s felt relief, he takes a minute to wash his hands and splash a bit of cold water to his face. He’s still feeling the alcohol, bits of the edible, too. But, he’s definitely not as crossed as earlier in the night. Just as he’s patting his face dry, he takes note of all your skincare laying around; that cute pink headband with a huge strawberry on it, various face sheet masks arranged neatly, random rings and other trinkets spread across the open space. Otherwise, both you and your roommate seem to be really organized and neat.
“Oh, uh, thanks.” He says when he catches you in your room. “For letting me borrow the bathroom.” You chuckle, Hongjoong’s eyes roaming around as he peeks in.
“You can come in, you know? My room isn’t entirely off limits.”
“I don’t want to intrude.” He gives you a small smile. “You do have a cozy room, though.”
“Thanks. I try.” You let out a tiny giggle, tossing your clothes into the hamper as he steps inside and slowly eyes the prints and photos organized beautifully along the off-white wall.
“These are nice. Do you order them from somewhere in particular?”
“No. I just look online and buy whatever looks good.” You stand next to him.
“But.. these photos. Did you take them?” He points at the scenic photos you took of and around Hanauma Bay during a family trip to Oahu years ago.
“Yeah.” You tilt your head to the side. “Wow, I miss Oahu. I think it’s time to tell my family we need to do something and go back.” He chuckles.
“They’re beautiful.” You look at him and give him a tiny smile. “Everything about them. The angles. Crisp edges.” He says softly, mainly to himself, but it’s still loud enough for you to hear.
“Thanks. Are you into photography or something?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I try to take my own pictures, too. Just like holding onto memories that way.”
“I agree.” He smiles at you before glancing at the rest of your room. Everything about your room is also neat, organized and incredibly in sync— if that makes sense. Everything follows a certain theme, a certain color tone. Whites, creams, soft pastels. His eyes just gloss over the room in such a smooth way, he’s positive you love being in here.
“Do you spend a lot of time in your room?”
“How can you tell?”
“The way you decorated it. You put a lot of thought into it. It’s really nice. I meant it when I said it looked cozy.”
“You’re just throwing compliments left and right. What did I do to deserve it?” You laugh, and it Hongjoong finds his smile growing bigger.
“I’m just being honest.”
“Well, thank you, Hongjoong. I appreciate it.”
“Are you two hooking up or something? The food is here!” Yunho is heard at the end of the hallway, careful to not walk into something he doesn’t wanna walk into.
“Yunho, why the fuck would I hook up with someone with the door wide open?” You ask as you lead the way out of the room, Hongjoong following behind and shutting your room door close.
“I don’t know, you’re drunk.”
“I’m pretty sober now after everything that’s happened.” Wooyoung is at the coffee table, already spreading out the pizza boxes next to the bucket of chicken.
“So, you weren’t making out in there?” You smack Wooyoung upside the head before plopping down next to him. Hongjoong lets out a small laugh, taking a seat at the end of the coffee table while Mingi does the same on the opposite end. Ara and San are still flirting a storm on your couch, while Yunho takes a seat on Wooyoung’s free side.
“Do you want me to be?”
“I’m sure Hongjoong would be down, you were already pressed up on his lap earlier.” He whispers right into your ear.
“Oh my god. What’s wrong with you?” You pinch him on the thigh, making him yelp in response.
“I’m just saying you deserve all the fun, baby. Jesus. Just go for it next time.” He continues to tease. “Anyway, here. Let’s eat up.”
“What’s playing on the TV right now?” Yunho asks, already gobbling down a slice.
“Who fucking knows, but it’s kinda funny.” Wooyoung laughs at the screen. For the rest of the night, everyone is eating to their heart’s content and actually watching whatever movie happens to be playing on the TV. You stand for a moment to grab some water from the kitchen, unaware that Hongjoong had followed you over to grab another bottle of his own.
“Mind if I grab one, too?”
“Here.” You hand him the bottle, cocking a brow up when Hongjoong hasn’t stopped staring at you.
“Um.” He chuckles and points to your cheek. “May I? You.. there’s sauce.” You giggle.
“Oh shit, wow. That’s embarrassing.” He wets a paper towel before gently dabbing at your cheek, eyes focused on getting the sauce off of your skin. His face is merely inches away, hand gently holding your chin up towards the light.
“There.” He says softly. Except, Hongjoong doesn’t release his grip from your chin right away, eyes now glazing over your features. You’re really, really pretty, and something about you is enticing to him; even if you two have barely known each other for the night, you are enticing and he is curious about you.
“Thank you, Hongjoong.” You say ever so sweetly and it confirms the thoughts swirling in his head— intoxicated or not.
“You’re welcome.” His thumb grazes over your cheek for one last quality control check before he steps back. “Wanna catch the rest of the movie?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Truth be told, Hongjoong isn’t even sure how the whole night unfolded this way. He wasn’t even planning on going out, but leave it to Mingi, San and Yunho to convince him until the very end. He had noticed you ever since the party, eyes glancing around the living room over the edge of his cup while he people-watched, took in his surroundings. What caught his eye the most was how bubbly and energetic you were around everyone, always being the life of the party and genuinely enjoying yourself. You’d loudly laugh and joke, smile from ear to ear while dancing around with a bag of chips in your hand. You didn’t have to do much to be that way, and Hongjoong could tell you were only being yourself. He liked that. He liked seeing you happy, he liked seeing you be you.
So colorful, vibrant.
But, truthfully, he was afraid to make a move. Mainly afraid, but he also knows what kinda wreck he’s been lately. Just lots of shit, lots of baggage— he’s not sure what he’s really ready for or if he’s ready for anything. The thoughts alone are enough to keep him still in his place, pushing certain desires and wants to the back of his mind to try and focus on fixing his shit first.
He can be selfish sometimes, though. It is beautifully dangerous for Hongjoong. Beautiful because it works, dangerous because it works.
So at the end of the night, after Hongjoong watches you giggle away to the stupid movie on the TV, after watching you happily gobble away at the pizza and chicken, after your hands grazed over his a few times; he is going to be selfish.
That would change the trajectory of everything for him, for you.
Ever since that night, Hongjoong and his friends would invite you and your friends to hang out at their apartments and vice versa— engaging in casual drinking over board games and more movies. Every hangout led to you and Hongjoong getting closer and closer, teetering into new territory quicker than you both imagined.
“Hey.” Hongjoong says, stepping out onto his balcony where he finds you getting some fresh air. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here?” He jokingly teases, making you roll your eyes even though you feel the heat rising to your cheeks.
“Ew, don’t ever.” He laughs, swinging an arm around your shoulders.
“Why are you smiling like that then?”
“Not because of you.” You tease.
“I don’t see anyone else out here.” He looks down at you. “Seriously, what’s up? You okay?”
“Just wanted to get some air.”
“Wanna go for a walk with me, or do you wanna stay here?”
“Can we stay here? I was looking up at the stars.” You look up. “They’re so bright tonight, Joong. I feel like I haven’t seen them like this in forever.”
“Hm.” He hums, eyes glued onto your side profile. You’re not even doing anything in particular, but this moment right here makes Hongjoong want to pull you close.
Kiss you.
Hold your hand.
“Are you looking?” You look at him with a brow cocked up and he laughs.
“Honestly, nah. I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m just..” He pauses, brushing the hair away from your face. “Let me take you out on a date.”
“You— wait, what?”
“Let me take you out on a date.” He chuckles, pressing his lips against the side of your head. “Please?” Hongjoong had been a bit more affectionate with you as time went on, and you welcomed it because whatever he was feeling, you surely were feeling too. Unspoken feelings and little acts of affection kept you going, and you thrived on it, if you were being honest. You loved the cute ‘lil pinches on your side, the ‘lil moments where he’d grab your hand and let it linger for awhile, the ‘lil moments you’d catch him staring at you from across the room, the ‘lil texts that showed you were on his mind in one way or another. It was the subtle chase, and you loved it.
“A date, hm?”
“I’m serious.” He clicks his teeth in defeat, making you giggle.
“Alright, yeah. Take me out on a date, Hongjoong.” He smiles.
“Yeah? It’ll be fun.”
“Where are you planning on taking me?”
“Why would I tell you that, pretty?” He boops the tip of your nose. “I promise. I got you.”
And to that end, he did. He fulfilled his promise, and he did have you. He took you to a basketball game, one that you had been dying to catch for months, but never had the time to do so. He picked you up that morning and drove to the arena 45 minutes away from campus. It wasn’t like any other date you’ve been on, no. But, it was a date you enjoyed because you had fun and you were comfortable enough to be yourself around him already. You screamed together, you yelled at the refs together, you cheered on the team together. During the game, he’d hold your hand or throw an arm over your shoulder before giving you a quick peck on the cheek or temple. You don’t know what it is, but you trusted him. A lot. Quickly, too.
After the game, he took you out for dinner at a casual restaurant nearby, asking you to order whatever you wanted and that he’d cover everything, as long as you were happy. The two of you talked about everything and anything about life, and you felt like Hongjoong understood you just as you did with him. You knew a bit about his family after all the kick-its and hangouts your friends had. You knew he had an older brother he looked up to and adored, you knew he loved his parents more than anything. You knew he loved his senior dog named Momo, and you knew he cherished his childhood home, his friends— near and far. He knew you also had a good relationship with your family, and he knew the little things about you that made you.. you. It was an equal situation of give and take; not one taking more or less than the other.
Sooner or later, more dates occurred, the affection and PDA progressed to the point that everyone automatically paired you two together. Wherever he was, they’d figured they’d find you there and vice versa. It wasn’t until the date at the baseball game a month later when he made things official with you. Hongjoong knew all the right things to do, all the right things to say. It almost felt unreal that you had him by your side— a stranger whose lap you sat on just to get away from the cops, a stranger you knew nothing about and had no intentions of getting close to.
That stranger became everything to you in such a short amount of time, but you didn’t want it any other way. It felt good being with Hongjoong, and it felt like pure bliss being with him. You were certain you had finally reached cloud nine, and you didn’t think you’d ever come down from it.
“Hello?” You pick up the phone just as you begin to walk to the parking lot after your last class; books tucked against your chest, bag strap slung on your shoulder.
“Hey baby, did you just get out of class?”
“Mhm. Finally! I’m so tired today.”
“Aw, I’m sorry. You don’t have anything else going on tonight, do you?”
“No, but I have homework to finish and I definitely have to study for our next test. What about you? How was school today?”
“Same old. Can’t complain. I just have some things to finish tonight, too.” You hear rustling in the background, followed by his door shutting.
“Did you just get home?”
“Yeah. I went to the gym really quickly.” He lets out a sigh. “I miss you.”
“Aw, I miss you, too. You’ll see me tomorrow, though.”
“I know but.. it feels like a long time from now.” You step into your car and let out a breathy giggle. “Do you wanna just stay over tonight?” You pause, hearing the question come from him. You’ve hung out at Hongjoong’s apartment more times than you can count, but you’ve never stayed the night since Hongjoong was always so careful about being too quick or pressuring you into doing something you weren’t ready for. It’s not that you weren’t ready, and you definitely thought about it more recently. But, you were also shy because it felt like a huge step for you and Hongjoong’s relationship. Though, you knew he’d enjoy it just as much as you would. You just had to overcome all of your overthinking and get over your assumptions, you think.
“Joong, I have to study tonight.”
“Study at mine. I won’t bug you.” He laughs. “I have some homework I gotta get through, too.” Silence. “Baby, no pressure but I really just miss you.”
“Joongie.” You almost whine. You miss him, too. You really, really do. “Okay, yeah.”
“Really?” He says excitedly.
“Mhm.” You laugh. “I just need to go home, shower and pack a few things.”
“Mmkay. Let me know when you’re ready.”
“Okay.”
“See you soon, pretty girl.” You hang up the call, eyeing the phone before shaking your head and driving home. Not gonna lie, you were extra nervous. You were excited to finally spend the night with him, but you were nervous. You were nervous thinking about what the night would bring. What could it possibly bring? Were you two really gonna study and just go to sleep? Would Hongjoong expect things from you? Hongjoong would kiss you, slowly make out with you and touch you in certain places, but never expected more from it— again, mainly because he was afraid to unintentionally pressure you in any way.
Welp.
You quickly brush your thoughts away and hop in the shower before throwing on a lazy outfit consisting of an oversized sweater and biker shorts. You pack up some things, telling your roommate you’ll be back tomorrow. She teases you a few times about finally sleeping over, yelling from her room that she’ll be excited to hear details if you actually do come back the following day.
When Hongjoong comes, it’s about 15 minutes after you finish packing. He tells you he’s parked near the curb out front, slipping into your shoes and rushing out the front door to greet him. He’s in a hoodie and sweats, hood up on his head while he scrolls through his phone waiting for your arrival.
“Hi.” You happily say, hopping into the passenger’s seat after dropping your bags into the trunk.
“Hey.” He beams at you, leaning over for a kiss. “Ready?” You nod, buckling in your seatbelt. Hongjoong stops by the nearest McDonalds to grab some greasy fast food for you two to indulge in while you both study away.
The apartment is quiet tonight, with San being out and Mingi studying away in his room. The both of you make a beeline to his room, Hongjoong hauling your bags while you take charge of carrying the food in. You place the bag down on the desk, carefully setting the food onto the surface. You let out a squeal when you feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in between his legs when he settles onto the edge of his bed.
“I missed you. I’m glad you’re staying tonight.” His hands are at your hips, gently squeezing before caressing your bare skin.
“I missed you, too.” You cup his cheeks and give him a kiss on the lips.
“Let’s eat first?” He chases after your lips for another quick kiss. “You’ll have energy to study.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” You give him a tiny, toothless smile. You and Hongjoong talk about your day in more detail while eating, laughing and teasing each other before settling down for the rest of the evening. He offers you a shirt to change into so you can be more comfortable, and you take it; slipping into it with ease before plopping back onto his bed with your books in hand. You tuck one leg in, while the other is propped out, with Hongjoong laying on his stomach next to you. He plants random kisses along your leg from time to time, throwing an arm over to hold onto it while he continues to work through his homework.
Surprisingly, you do finish everything.
“Babe.” You call for him as you shut your books close about two hours later, Hongjoong now folding some clothes and putting them away in his closet.
“Mhm?”
“I’m done.” You smile, packing your things into your backpack.
“Nice. See, I told you I wouldn’t bug you.” You laugh, making grabby-hands at Hongjoong.
“Are you almost done, though?”
“I am. Just a few more, then we can cuddle for the rest of the night. Sound good?” You nod.
“I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You hop off and grab your toiletries, throwing on a random pair of Hongjoong’s extra sweats before waddling to the bathroom. You take your time brushing your teeth, washing your face and getting cozy for the night before heading back into Hongjoong’s room. He’s back on the edge of his bed, this time, sorting through Netflix to find something to watch. You carefully slip under his sheets, texting away with Ara and Wooyoung until Hongjoong shuts off his lights and slips in next to you.
The one thing you’ve learned from Hongjoong is that he always gives you his full attention. He never scrolls through his phone for long if you’re with him, doesn’t let other shit occupy his attention. It’s you, and it’s always about you.
So, you set your phone aside and let him pull you into his arms, fixing the pillows so you could comfortably lay on his chest while he lays back against the headboard.
“You okay, baby? Comfortable?” He asks softly. You nod and he gives you a sweet, feathery kiss on the top of your head before starting the movie. There’s silence that falls between you two when the movie begins, but it’s comfortable. It’s sweet, it’s comfortable, it’s peace. Hongjoong gently runs his hand up and down your arm, tracing faint shapes on the surface as a small, reassuring way of saying he loves taking care of you— loves keeping you safe, warm.
Eventually, the movie hits the halfway mark, and you’re kinda over it. You’re over it because all you wanna do is kiss Joong and lazily make out with him until you can’t anymore. You just want him, all of him, and you don’t really wanna wait for the next opportunity to come around when you can have him here, right now. In this bed.
“Babe.” You call for him softly as you rest your chin on his chest and look up at him.
“Hm?” He hums, eyes still glued to the TV.
“Pay attention to me.” You pout, making him shift his attention from the screen down to you.
“I am.” He laughs a bit, hand gently massaging at your scalp. “What can I do for you, baby girl?”
“Just want a kiss.”
“Mm. I’ll be more than happy to give you that.” He smiles. “C’mere.” He adjusts once more while you rise and bring yourself closer, lips locking onto his the moment you are close enough to do so. Even after you pull away, you repeatedly kiss him— Hongjoong squeezing your side in between kisses as a way to encourage you to keep going.
And you do.
The kiss deepens and the movie is now a long-gone thought in the background; simply filling noise, filling space. He lets out a soft sigh when you tug back on his bottom lip and suck onto it, following up with another kiss to keep the intensity alive. Your tongues are fighting for dominance, giving Hongjoong leverage to lay you down onto the mattress while he hovers over your body.
His lips trail down your jaw, down to your neck. He gently nips and sucks at the surface, leaving marks along the way to show off who you truly belong to in this crazy, fucked up world. You are his, and his only.
“Wanna take care of you, baby. Can I?” He pauses as his hand slowly travels underneath your shirt and up your side, thumb caressing right under your bra line. You simply nod, feeling his hand travel to the back of your bra to unhook it in one quick move. You help by tugging your straps down and tossing the bra off to the side, Joong’s hand now coming up to cup your breast— letting out a shaking breath when he toys with your perked nipples.
“Joong.” You whimper. He gives you a look before he pulls your shirt upward, tongue carefully swirling around a bud before repeating the same on the other. He watches as your back slightly arches in response, goosebumps etched on your chest, arms. He plants chaste kisses down your stomach, trailing down to your clothed core.
“Is it okay if I keep going?” He whispers, fingers toying with the band of your cute red panties.
“Please.” You respond, arousal overflowing in the pit of your gut. He hooks his finger onto your panties and slides them off, biting onto his bottom lip when he finally has you like this under his hold. To be honest, you’ve never really had fulfilling sexual experiences in your previous relationship. The sex was good, but it wasn’t great, nor was it memorable. Your ex had a tendency to fuck for one purpose only, and that was to get himself off. He’d never go down on you, but he’d finger you as part of the foreplay. He’d keep it to missionary, never really down to explore other positions or find something that’ll spice up shit in the bedroom. But you were young, so you never really complained. You truthfully thought that was how sexual experiences worked— who were you to fight against that if you didn’t really have anything else to work off of or compare it to?
The other thing about Hongjoong is that he is keen on showing you differently, satisfying and pleasing you to the end. Because it’s you, and it’s always about you.
His thumb presses against your clit, earning a small gasp from you. He smiles at how sensitive you are, damn near begging him to touch you in all the right places, fuck you ‘till you can’t walk. And he will, but he wants to explore you first; really explore you and take you in.
“You’re so beautiful.” His eyes are glued onto you, slipping in two digits inside of you. “So wet.” He curls his fingers just right, pumping them at a perfect rhythm.
“Oh— Joongie.” You let out, toes curling at the end of the bed, hands gripping the sheets when he lowers himself back down in between your thighs; pressing sweet kisses to the inner parts before coming down to your pussy. Everything feels so slow, yet so intimate and special, even when Hongjoong finally latches on and laps away at your clit while his digits continue to pump into you. You’re moaning a little louder now, but he only hopes the TV is loud enough to muffle the noises because he truly could care less about shushing you and trying to keep it down for his roommates.
Oops.
So as to say that you’ve never had memorable sexual experiences with your past, you’ve also never really felt what a real, raw orgasm felt like. And when the first one hits you, it feels like a certain high where all you hear are fireworks exploding. You tremble in his grip and Joong soothes you by kissing you all over, praising you for doing so well, whispering that he’d continue to take care of you. He digs for a condom in his nightstand, sheets draped over his body when he sits back to roll the condom down on his length. Your eyes can’t help fix on it, his tip red and angry— ready to feel you, make you feel good but equally ruin you in the best possible ways.
He eases himself in, lips grazing over yours as he locks eyes with you. The both of you let out soft moans while adjusting to the feeling, Joong keeping a slow pace until you’re more comfortable.
“Keep going.” You manage to whisper against him, enjoying the feeling of being full of him. He picks up his pace, rocking his hips at a steadier pace that has him muttering curse words to himself, your nails digging into his back while your moans get a little louder.
“Baby.” He chuckles. “Fuck— you sound so sexy, but—” He pants a bit, furrowing his brows as he forces himself to hold on a little bit longer. “Mingi.”
“I can’t.” You whine. “Feels too good.” He lets out another shaky breath hearing that slip from your lips, his ego climbing just a bit knowing he can make you tremble under his grip, knowing he has you wrapped around his finger like this.
“So good.” He responds. “So good for me, princess. You’re so, so good.” He praises you, nibbling on your earlobe when his hips snap at a messier, rougher pace. He sucks on your neck more, darkening the reddish blobs littering across the column. You start to move your hips to match his movements, earning a deep groan from Hongjoong. “Ohhhfuck, Y/N. I won’t last.” He dips his thumb down to your clit, wanting to push you over the edge so, so badly. “Can you come for me again, baby? Hm?”
“Hongjoong.” You repeatedly moan his name like a mantra, feeling the coil in your stomach threatening to snap any second now.
“Mhm, that’s it. Come all over me. Give it to me.” He coaxes you. Suddenly, your orgasm washes over and makes your bones feel like jelly; everything sounds and feels like white noise even when Hongjoong snaps his hips roughly, chasing his high until he spills into the condom.
“Holy fuck.” You manage to let out as you try to regulate your breathing— eyes glossy, lips swollen, hair a mess, hickeys covering your neck. It’s a beautiful fucking sight to Hongjoong, and god, does he love seeing you underneath him like this.
“God, you’re perfect.” He kisses you on the lips, carefully removing himself from inside of you. He steps out of the bed and tosses the condom into the trash, slipping back into his sweats to grab the wipes from the bathroom. “You’re so pretty.” He laughs, watching as you lie there, letting him clean you up and take care of you.
“This is pretty to you?”
“Incredibly.” He smiles. “Gonna grab us some water.” He turns to the TV. “Fuck the movie, I guess?” You laugh.
“Yeah, I’m sleepy.”
“Okay, baby. I’ll be right back.” He kisses your forehead before running out to grab some water.
“I see you two were having some fun.” Mingi says with a smirk on his face, exiting the bathroom after a quick shower. Hongjoong truthfully didn’t even hear his ass walk into the bathroom and step into the shower.
“Oops. My bad, dude. We’ll keep it down next time.” Hongjoong chuckles, returning to the room with some water. “Here, drink some. You should probably go pee, too.”
“Joong, I’m so lazy.” You respond after chugging some water.
“Go.” He hands you the sweats you were wearing earlier. You roll your eyes and shove them on, earning a quick ass-slap from Hongjoong for the attitude.
You definitely slept well that night.
And the next morning felt even more perfect, being that you didn’t wake up to a Hongjoong next to you; but, you did wake up to a Hongjoong bringing you a plate of breakfast in bed. He cutely sat on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair out of your face while the other hand held a plate with rice, eggs and spam drizzled in sriracha. You certainly didn’t wanna leave him that day, especially when he pressed repeated kisses against your lips in the car— reassuring you he’d be back to pick you up after classes.
“How was it?” Wooyoung asks as you two sit in the café before classes, raising a brow at the hickeys you’re trying to cover with your sweater [but clearly failing]. “Or should I even ask?” He scratches at his neck as a way to point out your hickeys.
“Uh.” You fiddle with the straw on your drink, biting onto your bottom lip to prevent yourself from smiling too big.
“Ew.” He laughs. “You’re so bad at hiding them, dude. Did he try to eat you or something?”
“You asked!” You tuck your hoodie up. “I didn’t think he’d give me that many hickeys.”
“Mm.” Wooyoung hums. “At least it was good.” He snorts, making you toss a crumpled napkin at his face.
“He made me breakfast in bed, too.”
“You spoiled little brat.” He laughs, this time earning a kick under the table. “Ow, you’re so fiesty today!” He complains.
“Woo, listen to me.” You pout.
“What? The fuck can you possibly be sad about when you got the best fuck of your life and breakfast in bed?”
“Sometimes, I feel like he’s too good to be true.” You give him a look.
“What, why?”
“He’s just so good to me.”
“And you deserve to be loved that way, Y/N. Don’t ever question that shit.” Wooyoung points at you in a scolding manner. “I can tell he genuinely cares about you and really, really likes you. Let the guy love you.”
“Really?” He smiles and nods.
“Yeah, really. It’s the cutest shit. You two are cute.” He pats himself on the back. “Say thank you Wooyoung for throwing us in the backseat of Yunho’s car.”
“Fuck no, you wish.” You joke. Though, you really are grateful for that specific moment. You are grateful to Wooyoung and his irrational, loud, spontaneous ass. You are grateful that Yunho just happened to be there, right at that very second, with the people he was with. Because it brought you to Hongjoong, the one person that has become your homie, lover and friend all in one.
So yeah, maybe Wooyoung is right. After your shitty exes and unfulfilling relationships, maybe you do deserve this.
All of this.
—SUMMER
“Y/N, my favorite!” Hongjoong’s dad says happily as he stands at the front door, watching you step out of the car.
“Hi to you too.” Hongjoong jokes with his dad, making him push Hongjoong out of the way in order to pull you into a big hug. “Mom, your husband doesn’t know how to show love to his youngest son!” Hongjoong yells into the house.
“Hi!” You hug him back before stepping into the house, kicking off your shoes and setting your duffle bag down. His mom comes to greet you, followed by his older brother and his dog, Momo.
“You look so cute today.” His mom says, bringing you to the dining table. “Come eat, I just finished cooking. I made sure to get you some fried fish since I know it’s your favorite.” You sit and look up at her with appreciation before letting out a small ‘thank you.’
When Hongjoong first told you that his family really wanted to meet you, you were scared. You were scared, and you were nervous. All you wanted to do was make a good impression, enough for them to like you and support your relationship with their son.
But it ended up being so much more than that, and you were super happy with the outcome.
You had built such a strong bond with his family over time, just as he did with yours. You constantly wanted to join Hongjoong when he visited home. His parents always asked about you, always wanted to know when the next time you’d drop by. Sometimes, his parents would drive down just to hang out and see you both. Hongjoong had taken you to a huge family gathering or two, his parents proudly showing you off to their family members.
It went the same way with your own parents, but your parents weren’t as adventurous as Hongjoong’s. They loved taking weekend trips to nearby places, while your family loved staying home and being in their comfort zone with the occasional family trips here and there. Your family wasn’t as big as his, and your family loved being lowkey. It wasn’t a problem, but you ended up hanging out with Hongjoong and his family more just because they were closer to the universities and had more plans in store. Plus, you bonded with his father and his older brother over basketball. It was always a good time.
“What time are you guys heading to the party tonight?” His dad sits on the opposite side, already digging into the fried fish that laid flat in the center of the table.
“I don’t know, probably 9 or something.” Hongjoong picks at the fish, dropping pieces into your bowl of rice.
“Whose house is it at?”
“Joshua’s.” His dad nods.
“Y/N, you’re finally gonna meet his childhood friends.” You nod.
“I know, I can’t wait.” You giggle.
“They’re all obnoxious freeloaders.” Hongjoong’s mom laughs while she washes the pans in the sink, telling his father to be nice.
“So what hotel are we staying at over the weekend?” The main reason you two came down for the weekend was because it was a childhood friend’s birthday, and because his parents had plans to do a weekend staycation at a hotel nearly 1.5 hours away. They invited you two to come along, especially since his brother was tagging along, too.
“It’s a smaller one, but it has suites. Ours has a full blown kitchen, living area and two rooms. But we have to sneak Momo in.”
“What do you mean we have to sneak Momo in?” Hongjoong chuckles. “You didn’t check if it was a pet-friendly hotel?”
“I think it is, but I’m not sure. It’s too late to ask anyway. He won’t make a peep.” The both of you turn to Momo sleeping in his crate.
“Yeah, he’s an old man.”
“You and your brother need to sleep out on the pull-out couch so Y/N has the room to herself.”
“Babe, I’m gonna slip into your room.” You playfully nudge him in the midst of eating, rolling your eyes.
“I’m sure the couch will be just as great, Joongie.”
“Don’t be like that.” He pouts.
“Give her some space, my goodness.” You laugh at his mom’s response, excited to spend the weekend with them nonetheless.
The night comes rather quickly, especially after you’ve walked Momo with Joong and tagged along to buy some groceries for the weekend staycation. You’ve dressed yourself up in a cute little mini skirt and a top, while Hongjoong is sporting a white Stussy shirt, black jeans and a backwards cap. The house isn’t too far from his own; the town that his family lives in not being incredibly huge. He pulls up to a block lined with big, two-story homes [similarly to his], parking in a spot around the round-about. The house at the corner is flooding with people— either hanging out outside or in the house, and the music is muffled behind the walls of the house.
“Ready, baby?” You give him a nod and he quickly leans over to kiss you on the lips. The two of you walk hand in hand towards the house, Hongjoong already greeting people the moment you’ve stepped onto the property.
You’re a bit relieved when you see San, Mingi and Yunho hanging around in the house, instantly greeting them while Hongjoong continues to say his hellos. It’s not long before you’re returning back to his side because Hongjoong is proudly introducing you to everyone as his girlfriend, his lady, his girl; arm either swung around your shoulder or your waist. Even though these are people he mainly grew up with, you didn’t feel entirely left out with how down-to-earth and outgoing everyone was.
“Let me get you something to drink.” Hongjoong kisses your temple before tapping your hips and leaving you to Yunho, San and Mingi.
“Dude, I’m glad you came tonight.” Yunho swings an arm around you. “Where’s Woo at?”
“He went home, too! He’s barely been around his apartment cause he’s been spending time with family.”
“He does hate being around school.” You laugh.
“He does.”
“Did you get to meet everyone? I think mostly everyone’s here.” Mingi looks around, sipping on his drink. Hongjoong comes back around with a red cup full of a sweet, fruity cocktail in his hand. He hands you the cup and presses another chaste kiss to your lips before hugging you from behind.
“I think so.” Right at this moment, more roars are coming towards the backyard door where a few heads walk in. Loud greetings and hugs are being thrown towards the group that just arrived, Hongjoong, Yunho, San and Mingi happily greeting the guy that walks in first.
“My guy!” Hongjoong daps him up and everything, even with his one arm still wrapped around your shoulder.
“Kim fucking Hongjoong, it’s about time! I haven’t seen you in so long, dude!” The guy looks down at you with a big smile, giving you a curt nod. “Who’s the pretty lady? Is this Y/N?”
“Sure is.” Hongjoong smiles. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, Jisung.” He properly introduces you.
“I’ve heard so much about you.” He smiles, his semi-long permed black hair cascading down the sides of his face. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Truthfully, you’ve probably only heard Jisung’s name tossed around a few times, but Joong has never really talked about him like that. It does make your heart soar that he’s proudly talking about you and beaming about your relationship.
A girl comes up behind Jisung and loudly greets Yunho, San and Mingi. Her eyes simply glaze over you and Hongjoong, but she manages to mutter a small ‘hey’ before pulling Jisung to the drinks. It’s not until someone calls out her name that you realize it’s Hongjoong’s Tara; his ex, Tara. You don’t miss how Hongjoong’s smile fades a bit, and how his body becomes rather stiff. But, he manages to play it off well— returning his attention to you as if the vibe switch never happened. He had always been honest about his relationship with her, telling you that they had always been close before they started dating. But unfortunately, all of that has gone to waste with how awful their break up was. He doesn’t give you details on the breakup— how, why or when it happened. You just know that they’re awkward, and that they’re back to being strangers.
It is what it is, he says. Maybe it just works out better that way.
You never pressed on it, never asked him more. Because whatever Hongjoong was willing to share was okay with you, and as long as he was okay, you were okay. Same thing goes for you and your ex— Hongjoong never pressed you to share what you weren’t comfortable with; but he damn sure made up for everything you had gone through in your previous relationship. He made sure to kiss every scar, every wound, every thought, that made you believe you weren’t enough or that you lacked in certain areas.
Because to him, you truly didn’t. You were one of a kind.
Throughout the night, you and Hongjoong continue to stick to each other, sharing affectionate moments in between silly dances. Tara surprisingly didn’t make her presence known much, and that eased the anxiety you felt when she first walked in. It’s not like you expected him to be bothered purely by the way he talked about their history, but at the same time, you didn’t know what to expect and you didn’t know her. You just wanted to have a good time with him and the people he enjoyed being around. You loved being with him more than anything, and you loved the attention he always gave you. You didn’t have to ask because Hongjoong always gave, always made sure to take care of you before anyone else.
Towards the end, you find yourself clinging close to Yunho and participating in a round of beer pong with him while Hongjoong steps outside to take a few hits of a blunt Jisung made.
“I’m glad you brought Y/N along. I’ve been dying to meet her since your ass talks about her so much.” Joong laughs just as he exhales.
“That’s my girl.”
“You look hella happy with her.”
“I am. We just.. fit. She really does make me happy.” Joong takes another hit.
“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” Jisung chuckles. “So does that mean..?” Joong looks at him because he already knows what he’s talking about.
“We’re not really talking.”
“That’s not what I was gonna ask, though.” Jisung cocks a brow up. “I’m assuming you’re over her and everything since Y/N is around now.”
“Mhm. Yeah.” Is all Hongjoong says. “Been over with.”
“Okay.” Jisung responds. He leaves it at that because even though a tiny part of him feels like Hongjoong isn’t actually over it, who is he to argue against it? Only Hongjoong knows what’s going on in that head of his. Jisung can only hope you don’t get hurt by anything in the end because you seem like a genuinely nice and sweet girl.
Once Hongjoong and Jisung are done smoking, he comes to find you finishing up the round with Yunho. He celebrates your victory, showering you in kisses before whispering in your ear that he wanted to get the fuck up out of there. You take the keys from him and step into the driver’s seat, sober enough compared to your boyfriend since Yunho took all the beer during beer pong. The both of you recount different moments of the party, with you telling Hongjoong that you really enjoyed meeting his group of friends from home.
“Baby.” He breaks the silence, hand on your thigh and giving it a good squeeze.
“Yes?” You quickly look over at him before looking back out to the road.
“You’re so pretty.” He says, the weed still in his system; eyes still glossy and red. “I liked seeing you have fun tonight.”
“Joong.” You giggle.
“No, seriously. You’re perfect.” He squeezes at your thigh again, fingers slowly trailing up to your inner thighs and sending goosebumps to ripple through your body.
“No one’s perfect.”
“You are. To me.” Your breath quietly hitches when you feel his fingers tease at the hem of your skirt. “My pretty girl.” His hand finally dips underneath, teasing at your panties.
“You do remember we’re going back to your parents’ house, right?”
“Mhm.” He teases at the edge of the material; so close, yet so far. Threatening to be right where you want him. “Just sleep in my room.”
“I’m not doing that with your parents around, Hongjoong.” He chuckles.
“They won’t care. Fuck the guest room. You can just be quiet for me, right pretty?” He bites onto his bottom lip.
“Hongjoong.” You whine, almost unable to finish the drive home with the way your boyfriend is being.
“Pull into the park’s lot.” He points ahead. “Need you right now.”
“In the lot?!”
“You won’t sleep in my room, so..” You let out a breath, still obeying to pull into the lot. You needed him just as bad, the ache becoming unbearable in between your legs. You park under the tree for more ‘privacy’ [if you can even it call it that], the rest of the lot completely empty and dark. As soon as you put the gear in park, Hongjoong is tugging onto your shirt, begging for you to be on his lap. “Ride me.” He adjusts the seat enough so that you have room to climb over, already unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans. When you land on his lap, he tugs your panties to the side and guides you onto his tip, letting out a loud moan when you finally sink down on his length. “Fuuuuck.”
“Joong, someone might see us.”
“No one will see us.” He digs his fingers deeper into your hips, encouraging you to work your hips faster.
“We don’t even have a condom!”
“I’ll pull out.” He laughs. “Fuck baby, I promise. We’re okay.” He kisses you sweetly on the lips. “Just need you right now. Ride me like the good girl you are, hm?” You let out a breathy moan hearing his raspy voice, working your hips back and forth at a steady pace.
“Feels so good.” You whine.
“Always know how to ride me so well.” He dips his thumb into your mouth, watching you wrap your pretty lips around it. “And you’re all mine. Right, princess?”
“I’m yours.” You mewl with a nod just as he slips his thumb out of your mouth, hand now coming to your neck with enough pressure. He pulls you in for a sloppy, wet kiss, shared moans released in between kisses. The friction against your clit is adding onto the pleasure you feel, your orgasm building quick. It only takes a few more rolls against him before you feel yourself unraveling, moans echoing within the car— you’d really be surprised if nobody questioned it. The car moving, sounds probably heard through the windows.
You can’t believe him right now.
“Hongjoong, I’m gonna—” You don’t even finish your sentence before your squeezing the life out of him, walls pulsing around his length. It’s enough to bring Hongjoong’s orgasm out of him, the panic lowkey mixing with the pleasure he’s feeling.
“Fuck— up, baby. Up.” He taps your hips and you move upwards, Joong releasing right into his hand as soon as he’s out. You’re still twitching from the sensitivity while also trying to regulate your breathing, exhaustion hitting you quick in the tight space. “Shit.” Hongjoong says, looking around to grab a napkin.
“You’re so messy.” You joke, making him laugh.
“Where else could I have done it, hm? Enlighten me.” You point to your mouth to tease him. He responds by clicking his teeth, wiping away in between your legs before tending to himself. “Don’t say shit like that, Y/N. We might never make it back to my parents’ place.” You laugh and hop off, albeit struggling to make it back to the driver’s seat.
“We’re leaving.” You fix yourself a bit more before buckling your seatbelt in and starting up the car. Joong continues to adjust himself back into his jeans before settling, letting out a hefty sigh when he’s comfortable.
“Offer still stands, love.”
“What offer?”
“To sleep in my room.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Why?” He pouts and whines. “I’m telling you right now, my parents won’t care.”
“I do!”
“Baby, how are you gonna do me like that?”
“You’ll see me down the hall in the morning.” You smile at him before driving up the hill, the park literally being down the street from the house. When you arrive and park at the curb in front of the house, you and Joong quietly step inside and slip out of your shoes. He playfully grabs you by the waist, pulling you into more kisses in the dark to prevent you from heading up the stairs. You silently scold him and laugh against his lips, afraid his parents will wake up and see you two making out in the entryway. Just as you’re about to head down to the guest room, Joong tugs you by the wrist and pulls you into his room for another round of kisses.
“Just stay with me.” He whispers before locking his lips with yours again.
“I’m down the hall.” He gently sucks onto your bottom lip, slightly pushing himself up against you. “Kim Hongjoong. Stop it.” You tap him on the chest and he sighs in defeat.
“I hate sleeping without you.”
“It’s for one weekend.” You blush at Hongjoong’s neediness. Quite frankly, you don’t wanna be without him either, and it’s taking everything in you to leave him. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
“Fine.” He meets your eyes while caressing your chin. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” You smile at him before leaving him in his room to head down to the guest room. The guest room has a half bathroom that you use to get ready for the night. You quickly wash up and throw on a comfy pajama set before slipping into the bed and plugging your phone into the charger. Hongjoong sends you a few more texts and pouty faces before you send one final text saying you were setting the phone down for the night.
The next morning, you’re woken up by his parents making breakfast downstairs, followed by Hongjoong’s dad yelling for him and his brother to wake up and take Momo out. Hongjoong’s actually the first to be up, responding that he’ll take Momo out after he checks on his other baby first. You giggle to yourself under the covers until you feel another body jump onto the sheets and hug you tightly. He showers you with tickles and kisses before getting up to get ready for the rest of the weekend ahead.
Which, was amazing. Something you’ll always remember, something you’ll always keep close to your heart.
The hotel was small, but beautiful, and it sat in the middle of a cute town. You successfully snuck Momo into the suite with Hongjoong and his brother; the boys tasked with hauling his things and his crate, while you tucked him nicely into a blanket and carried him into the room once the coast was clear. The entire weekend was spent walking around town or playing around at the pool while Hongjoong’s parents always cooked the best meals. Hongjoong would occasionally sneak into your room just to pepper you with kisses and lay with you for a bit before you would whine about his parents finding him in there. It was a weekend full of laughter, bonding, candid photos, kisses and sweet praises from Hongjoong— telling you he felt so lucky to have you.
You, perfect for him.
You, everything to him.
And that continued even after the weekend. You and Hongjoong both found summer jobs just to keep yourselves busy, but he never failed to make you feel loved despite the slight change in schedules. He’d drop by as soon as you both were off, bringing you a bouquet of ‘just cause’ flowers before kissing you and holding you close. He’d bring you to work on days he didn’t have work and patiently wait for you to get off. He’d cook you a good meal, cuddle you and make love to you in the best [yet nastiest] ways. He’d surprise you with little things here and there— shoes, little trinkets, shirts— things he knew you’d like and that reminded him of you, only you. The hangouts with your friends and his friends continued, the bond between all of you only growing more tight.
You could say that summer was amazing. It was the happiest you’ve felt in such a long time. Or.. ever, if you’re being honest.
You were so happy that the moments when Hongjoong would go home for a night to hang out with his childhood friends or help his parents, you’d be sad. You knew you couldn’t always be with him, but those moments when you weren’t, easily made you feel incomplete. You were used to having him around, stuck at your hip while he kissed your temple and kept you close.
You felt empty, like your other half was missing.
“You’re leaving me.” You pout as you wait for your smoothie to be done, Hongjoong resting his chin on top of your head while he lazily holds you from behind. Tonight was one of those nights where you’d be sleeping without Hongjoong, a night where you wouldn’t get any cuddles, kisses.
A night without his warmth.
“Only for the night, love. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He presses his lips to your head. Once your smoothie is done, you take it to the car with your hand in his, head hung low because you don’t wanna be without Hongjoong for a night. You’ve gotten so used to being with him that one night feels way too long.
When he finally gets you back to the apartment, he kisses you sweetly; hands cupping your cheeks before he presses a kiss to your forehead. He tells you how much he’s gonna miss his pretty girl for the night, but he’ll be back before you know it. You smile, hugging him tightly before waving him off and watching his car drive off towards the direction of home.
Though you already missed him, you happily skip to your room and eat your favorite breakfast bagel with your smoothie; reminiscing about how summer has been so, so good to you.
How Hongjoong has been so, so good to you.
—SENIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE
“Hi!” You giggle as you hop into Hongjoong’s car, leaning in to kiss him. But, he moves away, furrowing his brows at you. He’s angry, and you’re not exactly sure why. “Um, okay. What’s wrong?”
“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting here for close to 15 minutes and you weren’t even answering my texts or calls.”
“Babe, I’m sorry. Class ran late and then I ran into Ara and Wooyoung on the way over.” He pulls out of the lot rather quickly, speeding off to his apartment from campus. “Slow down.”
“You couldn’t take that one second to text me or let me know?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it.” He doesn’t respond.
“Yeah, you didn’t.”
“It’s 15 minutes, Joong.”
“I’m just saying you could’ve told me, Y/N. I picked you up, it’s the least you could do.”
“The least I could do? If you didn’t wanna pick me up, you could’ve just said so—”
“That’s not the point.”
“Hongjoong, I didn’t do this on purpose. It just slipped my mind.” Your bottom lip starts to tremble. “Why are you so angry with me? I haven’t seen you all day.”
“Exactly.” Is all he says, leaning into his hand propped near the window as the other steers the wheel. You feel the tears building up quickly because not only was this unintentional, but Hongjoong is making you feel incredibly guilty for no reason.
“I said I was sorry. Why are you being like that?”
“I’m not being like anything, Y/N.”
“You’re being mean.”
“Am I?” He quickly turns to you with a glare before looking back out at the road. “I do hella shit for you, the least you could do is fucking let me know you’re gonna be late instead of letting me look dumb.” You flinch at his words, a mixture of both anger and sadness running through your body.
“I don’t mean to be such a chore for you.”
“Wow, there you go putting words into my mouth again. No one even said that.” You cross your arms and quietly slump in your seat, subtly wiping away at the tears streaming down your cheeks. You don’t even continue the conversation, leaving the air heavy and thick for the remaining 10 minute drive home to his apartment.
Once you get there, you simply kick off your shoes and sadly greet San and Mingi before walking into Hongjoong’s room. You change into comfier clothes, and slip into bed; studying for next week’s test and taking notes on your iPad while Joong talks to the boys outside in the living room. They start up a game of FIFA that has them screaming in the living room for an hour or so before they decide they’re gonna head out for a bit. Usually, Hongjoong skips in and begs you to come because he doesn’t wanna go anywhere without you. He loves having fun with you, seeing you smile and being able to kiss you in between.
But tonight, he rushes into the room without saying a word, and grabs a jacket before heading back out. The door to his room shuts close and you can’t help but feel your heart break. All of this over being 15 minutes late, and you feel terrible about yourself.
Why were you doing everything wrong?
“Woo.” You cry into the phone.
“What’s wrong?” You continue to cry quietly. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”
“Joong was just hella mad at me. For the dumbest reason.”
“What happened?”
“Dude, he was so mad at me for taking too long. Said I should’ve just texted him and let him know instead of making him look dumb for 15 minutes.”
“I’m sorry, what? That’s what you’re arguing about?” He clicks his teeth. “Y/N, please stop crying. Where is he right now?”
“I don’t know, he left with San and Mingi.”
“Do you want me to pick you up?”
“No, it’s fine.”
“He didn’t say anything else to you?”
“No. He was angry. Sped the fuck off to the apartment and everything.”
“I get where he’s coming from but it’s really not that big of a deal. It’s not like you always do this to him.”
“Why do I feel so bad and guilty about everything? I always feel like I’m doing something wrong.”
“You’re not. He’s just not thinking.” You sniff and wipe away at your face, glancing at the time. You didn’t think Hongjoong would be back any time soon, so you continue to talk to Wooyoung on the phone while going through your notes. It’s about 2 hours in before Wooyoung says he’s gonna call it a night since he needs to wake up early and head home for the weekend. You let him go and get yourself ready for bed— fully expecting Hongjoong to probably sleep outside or create a gap between you two.
You wake up close to midnight when you hear San barge into the room with repeated apologies, hair a mess.
“Y/N, I am so sorry to wake you, but I need help.” You look up at him and sit up, rubbing at your eyes. Suddenly, the sound of someone falling into the floor and crashing into the dining room table echoes in the living room and San panics. “They’re both fucking drunk.” San says, stumbling back into the living room to find Mingi laid out on the dining room chairs, while Hongjoong is on the floor. You sigh and let San guide Mingi to his room, while you tend to your boyfriend.
“Joong, get up.”
“Baby. I’m sooo drunk.”
“Yeah, I can see that. You need to get up, though.” You try to pull him up by the arm. Luckily, he cooperates, though he stumbles a bit while you guide him to the bathroom. “Can we get you ready for bed?”
“Only if you come with me.” He hiccups. You shake your head and sigh.
“Yeah.” You sit him on the toilet. “Sit. I need to grab you some clothes.”
“I’m gonna fall over and die.” He laughs.
“You’re not.” San comes out of the hallway, letting out a huge sigh.
“Mingi’s in bed.”
“Can you watch him? I need to grab him some clothes.” San sits with him while you grab him a change of clothes. You hear them fumbling in the bathroom before Hongjoong lets out another laugh.
“Dude, keep still. Jesus Christ. You’re so lucky Y/N’s taking care of you. I would’ve left your ass there to fend for yourself.” He scolds him just as you walk back into the bathroom.
“Thanks, Sannie.” He gives you a tiny, toothless smile and nods.
“I’m sorry about this.”
“You don’t have to apologize. Just go and get some rest.”
“I’m gonna sleep on Mingi’s floor in case he yacks on himself.” He rolls his eyes, shutting the bathroom door behind him.
“My pretty baby.” He continues to tug you closer, making grabby hands and being all needy.
“Stop, Joong. Get your shirt off.”
“Why are you mad at me?” He whines as you switch out his shirt.
“Cause you were mad at me for something stupid.”
“You were taking so long. I just wanted to be with you, but Wooyoung was taking up your time. W-Wouldn’t you feel the same way?” He slurs.
“Ara, too.” You look at him. “You don’t need to get mad at me for things like that, Hongjoong.” You can’t believe you’re having this talk with him while he’s intoxicated. But for whatever reason, you feel like he’ll understand you better this way. He’ll be less mean, less temperamental.
It shouldn’t be that way, though.
“Sorry.” He mumbles as you help him switch into his pajama bottoms. You don’t respond as you quickly wipe down his face with a wet face towel, handing him his toothbrush. “Baby, m’sorry. What more do you want?” He’s only accepting defeat because what else can he do being this vulnerable right now?
“Okay.” You give him what he wants. “Brush your teeth so you can get to bed.” Hongjoong brushes his teeth, grabbing the tiny cup of mouthwash you hand him before guiding him to the bed. He plops down onto his stomach, arm lazily hanging off the edge while you tuck him in. He falls asleep rather quickly, already deep in sleep when you place a water bottle on the nightstand and a trash can near the bed.
You sleep easily throughout the night after that, with the occasional Hongjoong tossing and turning in bed, sitting up to drink water before he’s back to holding you and keeping you close. You feel his lips press against the back of your head and neck a few times, but you don’t budge. Because you’re still upset, yet you’ve pushed it to the back of your mind to take care of him.
Oh, Hongjoong.
You wish you weren’t so easy to fold when it came to him, your relationship. Hongjoong does so, so well bringing you up; but you’re learning over time and as your relationship goes on, he does so, so well bringing you down, too.
The following morning comes, and Mingi is yacking his brains out in the bathroom. You shrug Hongjoong’s arm off of you before you stretch and slip out of it, Joong way too out of it to even care. By the time you make it outside, Mingi is standing at the bathroom doorway, holding onto his stomach. You ask him if he’s okay and he winces, telling you he’s unsure if he’s got more left in him. You gently push him back to his room to rest before you’re cleaning the bathroom and washing up for the day. You cook a good meal for the boys, arranging a plate for your boyfriend. By the time that you’ve set the food out and cleaned up, Hongjoong is awake, but also struggling to move much.
“God, I’m so fucking hungover.” He mumbles and groans, barely able to look you in the eye.
“Eat.” You set the breakfast on his table.
“You made breakfast?”
“Yeah, cause both you and Mingi sound terrible right now.”
“Baby.” He sits up to drink water before pulling you in between his legs. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to.”
“It’s fine.” You try to push off, but he doesn’t let you go anywhere.
“Hey. I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“It’s fine, Joong.”
“You don’t seem like you’re fine.”
“It’s fine. I’ll text you from now on if I’m gonna be late. I just don’t need you getting mad at me for that.” He hums against your chest and continues to hold you without saying much. So, you stand and wrap your arms around him, letting out a sigh in hopes that all the pent-up frustration would leave, too.
“You’re so good to me.”
“I hope so.” You look down at him, swallowing the lump in your throat. You truly hope you are good to him. At least, you hope he genuinely believes so because it’s so easy to feel like you aren’t, like you aren’t doing enough, especially when Joong gets like that.
Though over time, you believe he meant it, for the most part. Hongjoong is better, but that doesn’t mean the arguments have settled completely. The moments they do spring up, he’s back to his ways of keeping silent and brushing you off, or leaving you behind. He comes back late, slipping into bed before pulling you close and whispering his apologies into your ear.
It’s a never-ending cycle, a circle, but you take it because Joong is what you’ve known, Joong is your other half. You take it because Joong is your home, and that maybe, this was just a silly little phase. Something you two will eventually grow out of.
A little bump in the road, a hill to overcome. As with any relationship.
A weekend full of fun activities eventually makes way, one that universities in your town and neighboring cities always look forward to. It’s the one weekend where all campuses get together for a full day of music, food and friendly competition before partying the night away at a local venue. This year the event was going to be held in the next city over, about an hour drive down. You, Hongjoong and your friends had packed up all your things and drove separately— you with Joong, Wooyoung with Yunho and Ara, San with Mingi.
As soon as you all arrive at the hotel, you unpack and grab dinner before heading to bed for the festivities the next day that started bright and early. You knew you were gonna have tons of fun this weekend, but you didn’t expect it to be the same weekend that you’d be tested; that your relationship would be riding its downhill course yet again.
Your group, along with other familiar faces, stayed during the majority of the day’s events. You and Wooyoung ran into a lot of people you knew growing up, catching up while standing in line for snacks and food, or in between the games happening out on the field. So did Joong.
And he was his usual self, happily introducing you to people you hadn’t met before and vice versa. He kept you to his hip whenever he could, peppering you with kisses, dancing around and having fun like the Hongjoong you first fell in love with. A lot of it felt like old times, like there wasn’t a care in the world. It had just been you and him, through rose-tinted glasses.
When it’s time for the afterparty, you and your friends do a shit ton of pre-gaming before heading out to the venue across the street. The coordinators and the huge security team keep a single file line organized right outside of the doors until opening, allowing the venue to be flooded with people right at 8pm on the dot. You hang onto Joong, afraid you’ll lose him in the sea of people, with your friends around you until you find a good spot on the dance floor. No one wastes any time once you settle on a spot— you working your hips on Hongjoong while he holds you close, while San and Ara are also indulging in each other and Wooyoung is pulling random girls to dance. At some point, Yunho and Mingi run over to grab some drinks for everyone to sip on, the DJ’s setlist continuing to hit all the right spots.
“Baby.” Hongjoong says, arm around your waist while he leans in by your ear. “I’m gonna go find Jisung. He said he just got here.”
“Okay. Tell him I said hi.” He pulls away to look at you and smiles, brushing your hair back.
“I will. Be back? Be good?” He chuckles while you nod, planting a sweet kiss to your lips.
For awhile, Hongjoong is gone long enough that you’re not sure if he ever found Jisung. You start exploring around the dance floor, greeting people you know again before heading off to the spacious hallway that leads to the bathrooms and water fountains. Lots of people are standing around and talking, which makes it a bit harder for you to find him. You eventually do though, and you almost wished you hadn’t at that exact moment, at that exact time.
The exact moment when Tara pulls him in for a hug, keeping her arms around his waist while he looks down at her with a fond smile. He laughs loudly while she continues to talk to him, the grip around his waist clearly not loosening any time soon. He throws an arm around her shoulder and pulls her in for another hug; keeping her there for a bit before she finally pulls back and parts from him.
You head towards his direction, his eyes instantly landing on you when you get closer. He gives you the same fond smile, before pulling you in and hugging you close. You swear you could still smell her perfume on his clothes and it gives you the ick.
“I didn’t know Tara was here, too.” You say, even though you should’ve expected it with all the schools invited. You should’ve known she was bound to be here, especially with Jisung being around.
“Yeah, and?”
“Nothing, nevermind.”
“No, I know you. What are you catching an attitude about? Because I said hi?” He furrows his brows at you and pulls away.
“It’s not even that—” You’re not even sure how to explain yourself, because how do you tell him she makes you uncomfortable without getting accused of being jealous? You know Hongjoong would instantly get upset, thinking you don’t trust him enough to be around his ex. That’s not the case at all. It’s just something about her that makes you feel.. off, and you can’t exactly put your finger on it. It’s probably the way they’re so up and down sometimes, you can’t tell if Hongjoong wants to keep her in his life or not. It makes you wonder how “awful” their breakup truly was.
But yeah, right now, you are kinda mad about how she hugged him and kept him close. He let that happen, too.
“Just because she’s here, you wanna ruin a good night? Be for real, Y/N. All you fucking do is trip over stupid shit.” He says, alcohol surely not helping in this case.
“I’m trippin’ over stupid shit?”
“Yeah, you are! It’s so fucking unnecessary when you act like that. I was just catching up with Jisung and Tara happened to come by. I don’t know why you assume so many things right away. Nobody is putting those thoughts in your head, you do that to yourself.” Hongjoong harshly lets go of you before walking off and leaving you in the hallway. Yunho is just leaving the bathroom, catching you standing there with a sadness in your eyes that surely doesn’t fit the environment you guys are in right now.
“Yo, you okay?” He throws an arm around you and brings you close, having to talk right in your ear because of the music blasting. You look up at him and shake your head, tears pricking your eyes while you sadly stand there with your arms tucked closely to your chest. “Woah, hey. What’s going on?”
“Tara.” Yunho lets out a small sigh as he frowns. He understands the anxiety that builds when she’s around. He knows their full story, and quite frankly, he’s iffy about the whole Tara thing, too. You clearly don’t know, but Yunho can tell your gut is telling you otherwise— that your instincts are making you defensive, making you overthink. He knows how serious their relationship was, but he also knew how much of a rollercoaster it was. How bad the breakup was, how weird they’ve been even post-break up. Hongjoong is a good guy, and he likes to think that he’d be smart enough [and grown enough] to move on from all that mess. “He’s fucking mad at me because I made a big deal out of it. I’m sorry I don’t want her around him.”
“I’m sorry, that’s totally valid. He’s drunk and he’s being a dick. He’ll realize how stupid he’s being. Let him.” Yunho smiles and gives you a playful pinch on the cheek. “No crying allowed. Let’s go back to the dance floor, okay?”
“Bruh! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Wooyoung grabs your wrist when he finally spots you and Yunho. “Don’t you hear the song they’re playing?! It’s our song!” You laugh, letting Yunho and Wooyoung guide you back to the dance floor. Once Yunho and Wooyoung have successfully brought you back to the dance floor, you’re able to brush off your feelings and forget the stupid drama for a bit. Wooyoung dances closely with you [like he always has], playfully singing around and laughing while simultaneously watching the crowd go crazy around you. Being around Wooyoung feels nice because you’re reminded of the good ol’ times. You’re reminded of the times you used to be so, so carefree and so full of life. You’re reminded of the times you didn’t have to worry about a single thing or feel so fucking anxious and frustrated. You’re reminded of the times when you and Wooyoung used to have tons of fun without a single weight on your shoulders.
Well, scratch that. You still do. It’s just a little different now.
During the remaining time you’re at the party, Hongjoong doesn’t return to you even once. And you know he’s hanging out with Jisung. Probably other childhood friends. Definitely Tara. And your suspicions are confirmed when you excuse yourself from dancing with your bestfriend and a few others to grab water, finding Hongjoong laughing and in good spirits with Jisung, Tara and another friend. There’s a look in his eyes when he looks down at her, and it makes your stomach twist.
Of course.
You’re not really sure why that’s the last straw, it’s not like he was doing anything out in the open with her. He would never do anything, you think. Even if you haven’t seen him throughout the night, he would never. But, it’s definitely the fact that he chose to spend his time with them [her] knowing how you felt.
And that shit is fucked up. You’re hurt.
You make contact with him and roll your eyes, shaking your head right before you take a big swig of water and head out the doors. Before you know it, you’re outside, pushing through the random groups lingering to get fresh air. Luckily, the hotel is a short walk across the street. But, you’re not even sure if you should call Wooyoung and take your things into his shared room with Ara and Yunho because you truly don’t want to be around Hongjoong if he was gonna be like that.
“Fuck.” Hongjoong mumbles to himself. Jisung follows his eyes, watching as you storm out of the venue alone.
“Uh, is she good?” Tara can’t help but look over either, heart sinking when she realizes Hongjoong is about to run after you. Because yeah, she has history with him, and she knows deep down that part of Hongjoong still has a grip on it. Just like she does.
“I’ll catch up with you later, alright?” Is all Hongjoong says before bidding them farewell to chase after you.
“Of course.”
“Tara.” Jisung gently scolds her through his tone. “I know that shit has always been complicated, but I need you to let him be.”
“Okay, Jisung. I’m not even saying anything. It’s just annoying how we can’t even be friends.”
“It’s never just that with you two and you know it.” She looks at Jisung and remains quiet, not having a rebuttal.
She knows, she knows.
Meanwhile, Hongjoong pauses in his steps and searches for your familiar figure. More people have piled outside, making it a bit harder for him to navigate through the crowds. Once he leaves the entrance and finds himself on the street, he sees you nearing the crosswalk.
“Baby, baby.” You hear Hongjoong behind you, footsteps getting louder as he picks up his pace to catch up with you. “Baby, wait. I’m sorry.” He repeats when he grabs your wrist, but you’re quick to snatch it out of his grip.
“Hongjoong, go back to the party. Looks like you were having a fucking blast anyway.”
“No, I don’t want to.” He attempts to grab you again but you’ve moved out of his reach.
“And I don’t want you here.” You sharply look at him. “Just go back with your friends. I’m sure Tara’s looking for you, too.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I wanna be with you.”
“If you actually wanted to spend time with me, then you would’ve done that a long time ago.” You feel the tears threatening to spill from your bottom lid as you continue to walk across the street to the hotel. You keep your distance from Hongjoong, genuinely wanting to be alone and away from him for a moment— but he doesn’t understand and he won’t. Because he’s selfish, and the moment he realizes you’re slipping from his grip, he panics.
Saying and throwing everything your way just to get you calm, to not have you be mad.
“I didn’t mean to get upset at you, it’s just frustrating—”
“I really don’t wanna do this right now, okay? I left alone for a reason.”
“Can you just listen to me for a second?”
“I don’t want to!” You push away from him once again, picking up your pace. “Hongjoong, just go back to your friends. For the love of god, I don’t wanna be around you right now. You fucking knew how I felt about the entire thing yet you still spent time with her and your friends. And you got mad at me for voicing those feelings! God forbid I feel that way about her.” You snap. “I don’t wanna do this anymore. I’m so fucking tired of fighting with you, all we do is—” He comes around and tries to stop you in your tracks, hands on your arms as he tries to pull you close.
“No, baby. You don’t mean that. I’m trying here! What do you want me to do?!” His voice slightly raises.
“You’re trying?! Funny cause you had hella shit to say to me at the party. Don’t try and flip the switch now.”
“I didn’t mean it, fuck!” He groans, attempting to stop you from walking any further again. His tone is loud enough to catch the attention of a couple walking past, eyes fixed on the scene until Hongjoong lowers his voice. “I just got frustrated and I’m sorry, okay? Please don’t leave. Let me make this up to you.”
“You don’t even know what the hell you’re sorry for!” You continue to raise your voice before storming up into the lobby, straight to the elevators.
“Yes I do!” He rushes into the elevator with you, and you tuck yourself into the corner. But of course, in a very typical Hongjoong manner, he cages you in, hands resting on the rails while his face barely ghosts yours. “I fucked up, and I didn’t mean to discredit your feelings. I want you to know that I don’t care about Tara. That shit is all in the past. It gets frustrating because I would never do anything to lose you, Y/N. I just need you to trust me. Why don’t you trust me?”
“Joong, I don’t get why you can’t just cut her off. She’s your ex for a reason. I don’t understand it. I just don’t feel comfortable with it, and I’m sorry—”
“I know, baby. If you want me to cut her off, I will. I wanna make up for this and prove it to you.” You let out a breath. “No one else matters to me.” Silence. You aren’t really sure what to say. What can you say? Was it wrong for you to ask him to cut her off?
If not, why do you feel guilty about it? Why do you feel so fucking wrong for doing that? For making it a ‘big deal,’ for voicing your uncomfortability?
“You didn’t have to come after me and miss the party.” You don’t really know what else to say. You’re tired and you’re over it, so you do what you do best in these scenarios: try to physically push him away from you and keep him at bay.
“Stop pushing me away. Baby, please.” He shakes his head and almost whines, cupping your face. “I don’t care about the party. I don’t care about any of them. Why can’t you trust me?” And it’s that stupid fucking look Hongjoong gives you that makes you melt, makes you weak in the knees. He looks at you in a way that reassures you, in a way that tells you how special you are; a way that says you’re mine and only mine.
And it gets you every single time.
You let out a shaky breath when his thumb caresses the surface, lips a few inches away from yours.
“Don’t push me away. I’m sorry, I’ll make this better. You can trust me.” He repeats. You don’t respond besides a simple nod, giving him leverage to press a chaste kiss to your lips as the elevator doors open.
Hongjoong is home to you, which is why you trust him to make it better, to keep you safe.
That night, Hongjoong takes you into the room and shows you his way of making up for it, of taking care of you, of showing you all that matters is you. You slip into the shower, eventually letting Joong join and take you inside. He carefully calculates every move, every kiss, every touch; making sure to whisper and mark your skin with his repeated apologies. And it doesn’t stop there, no. You get yourself ready for bed, throwing on one of Joong’s shirts before slipping under the covers. He shuts off the lights when he’s finished, getting in next to you. Innocent cuddles and kisses eventually turn into Joong taking you from behind; pounding into you while he pulls your hair and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.
No one else matters to me.
You’re perfect.
Made for me.
My good girl.
And you take it all, letting the love consume you all over again. Because for a while after this, things felt beautiful again. You felt like you were back in your honeymoon-cloud nine phase with Hongjoong— sharing laughs and jokes, holding each other close while kissing each other every chance you get. He’d make love to you like the last day on Earth was tomorrow, souls intertwining and never wanting to be apart from you.
Things were good, until they weren’t.
There comes a day when you realize he hasn’t actually cut Tara off, and your anxiety spikes again. There comes a day when all those shitty feelings return, and it makes you question if there was any meaning behind everything Hongjoong said, did.
You sat on Hongjoong’s bed, reading through a chapter of a book for class. He’s out in the hallway grabbing his clothes from the dryer when his phone dings a few times, your eyes shooting to the screen sitting on the nightstand. You used to think it was kinda nice that Hongjoong always set his text previews to show up no matter what. Maybe it was a weird way of showing you that he didn’t have anything to hide, maybe it was a way of showing you that you didn’t need to question anything.
Now, you’re not so sure how to feel about it.
tara: hey. is it okay if i swing by and hang out with you guys?
tara: my aunt passed, and i just want to be away from home.
You do feel a bit bad for her. Losing a loved one is never easy, and she is good friends with San and Mingi, too. But, where is Jisung? Where are her other friends? Surely she has other friends she can rely on, right? You can’t help but fix on the funny feeling and the anxiety that bubbles in your gut seeing her name— anything to do with her. You’re not sure what it is, but Tara unsettles you, and you know it’s for a reason. Your instincts are telling you so.
“Who is it?” You flash his phone his way, a small frown on your lips.
“So much for cutting her off, Hongjoong.”
“I’m not even planning to respond to her.”
“Not my point.”
“I know you aren’t getting mad at me over some unanswered texts. I haven’t even talked to Tara since that night.” He glares at you. But if he hadn’t talked to her since that night, what makes her think it’s okay to ask for something like this?
“Why would you tell me you’d cut her off if you weren’t actually planning on doing so? And why do you sound so mad about it?” You’re tired of doing this, going in circles, having to explain your feelings over and over again.
“Oh my god.” He huffs. “We’re really at this again?”
“Because you don’t get it. It just feels weird.”
“Mm, when I haven’t done anything.” He drops the basket onto the floor. “Since you wanna talk about ‘weird’ and bring this shit up again, what’s been going on with you and Wooyoung then?”
“Are you actually kidding me right now?” You scoff. “You’re not serious.”
“You know, I saw you that night of the party. The two of you dancing hella close. I’ve seen the way he is with you lately, too.”
“Wow.” You laugh pathetically because what is actually going on? Wooyoung had never been an issue, at least, Hongjoong has never vocalized it. Nor has Joong ever given you signs that he was becoming a problem. “You know we’re just close like that. It’s actually unbelievable that you’re comparing him to Tara right now.”
“Oh, bullshit! You expect me to believe that? That’s the shit that feels weird.” Hongjoong yells.
“Yes!” You match his tone. “Because we’ve been together for how long?! You know this. Why are you all of a sudden making this an issue? Wooyoung was never a problem—“
“To you, maybe.”
“And that’s my fault, how?! I can’t read your mind, Joong. You never told me you had issues about it.” You groan. “He’s just one of my best friends. I don’t know how else I’m supposed to prove that to you. I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Then, what the hell was he doing being all up on you? Leaning into your ear like that. Holding you close. Too fucking close.”
“We’ve always been that way! This isn’t anything new, and you know there isn’t a meaning behind it!” You yell, but you’re quick to crawl back into your shell when Hongjoong tosses a dish into the sink harshly before walking away from the kitchen.
“Right.” He starts walking towards his bedroom and you follow behind. “It’s crazy how you make a big deal out of Tara when I keep her at a distance. I don’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, I make sure there’s clear boundaries.”
“That’s not the same, and you know it. Her being around is uncomfortable enough.”
“How is it different?”
“You’re kidding, right?” You cross your arms. “She wants to get back with you so fucking badly, Joong! How can you not see that? She doesn’t care about me, and you apparently don’t either!”
“Oh, I don’t? I cut her off like you asked me to even though there really wasn’t anything going on between us. Shit was fucking crazy to me, but I did it anyway.”
“What exactly does ‘cutting her off’ mean to you? Because she continues to call you and text you, asking you to be there for her when she has so many other people she can turn to. Why does it always have to be you saving the day? You just let it happen, too! You clearly would see her and let her visit when she needs you. You two aren’t together anymore!”
“So, how is this different from Wooyoung? Because every time something happens, you run to him. You ask for him all the time, you call and text him when you need someone. You choose him all the time.”
“No, I don’t! He’s not my ex-boyfriend, this is just how we are. I’ve known him for so long, he would never disrespect you. Why on earth would you ever think of us in that way? This is different because you and your ex have history. She obviously still loves you, and wants to continue feeling close to you. As soon as you’re vulnerable, she wants to swoop in and show you that she’s always been there. You don’t get it!”
“Fine, I don’t!” But Hongjoong does, he’s just matching your energy and the way you fire back makes him want to fire back even more. He yells and he slams his hand against the wall, making you flinch. He’s heated just as much as you are— it’s all in the heat of the moment. “If I ever asked you to cut Wooyoung off, would you?”
“No. I don’t have a reason to. That’s unfair and you know it.” He scoffs as he throws on his jacket and grabs his keys.
“Okay, whatever. Fuck this then.” He says, just as San and Mingi walk into the apartment— pausing mid-conversation at the chaos going on.
“That’s it?” You pause. “Hongjoong.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say to you, Y/N. I gave you what you wanted.”
“And I am too, I’ve been trying to tell you that you shouldn’t worry about Wooyoung.”
“And yet it still feels like you’d choose him over me if it ever came down to it!” His hand hits the wall and it causes you to step back.
“Woah, hold on. Hongjoong—'' Mingi cuts in when he hears Hongjoong yelling at you, also slightly appalled at the topic behind the argument.
“Why do I even have to choose?!” You begin to cry more, aggressively wiping at your tears. He gives you one last look before he’s heading towards his shoes. “Hongjoong.” You call for him. “Where are you going?” He slides into his shoes, still not sparing you a look. “Hongjoong!”
“For a drive.” Is all he says before he’s heading out and slamming the door in your face. Mingi sighs as he sets his things down and tries to race after Hongjoong, while San sits you down and throws an arm around you to console you.
“What happened?”
“He’s getting mad at me cause Tara texted him.” San sighs. “Started talking about Wooyoung.”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry Y/N, let him cool down.” You don’t say anything because you’re sick of fighting and you’re sick of his friends, your friends, genuinely apologizing on his behalf. It should have never gotten this deep, and your friends shouldn’t have to be involved. Yet, here they are. “He’s being a hothead. I know how you feel, and you shouldn’t have to explain the situation with Wooyoung after all this time.”
“Sannie, I’m so tired.” You cry into your hands. You truly are tired. You feel exhausted from this rollercoaster you’ve been riding for months. You’re not sure if Hongjoong feels too comfortable, or if he’s just losing sight of who you are to him, what this relationship means to him. And that is an awful feeling. “I’m so done fighting with him.”
“I know.” He rubs your arm and gives you a gentle squeeze. “Hongjoong just needs to realize how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side. For real. You do everything for him and you’re always there for him. I know he’s appreciative but he just needs to do better.” He lets out a breath. “We’ll try to talk some sense into him. Why don’t you lie down and get some rest?” You shake your head.
“I’m gonna go home.”
“Want me to drive you?”
“I’m gonna call Woo.” He nods, letting you go to give you some space. “Thank you, Sannie.”
“Of course.” He gives you a small, half-hearted smile. He feels terrible. He truly wishes Hongjoong would stop being so mean sometimes. It’s true; he does have a temper but it’s unfair for him to unload that on you for every little thing, every little inconvenience. You had been nothing but good and patient. Understanding.
“Yo?” Wooyoung picks up as you pack up your things.
“Woo, are you free right now? Can you come get me from Hongjoong’s?”
“Yeah, sure. You okay?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll be there in 10.” And with that, you hang up the call and continue to pack your things. Hongjoong and Mingi haven’t returned, and you’re relieved you don’t have to go explaining yourself if he were to walk in at this moment. Wooyoung arrives sharply in 10 minutes, texting you to come outside. You bid San farewell and hug him tightly, telling him to let Hongjoong know you’ve gone home if he ever asks. He simply nods before watching you leave, releasing a deep sigh as he heads to his room.
The car ride is quiet simply because Wooyoung can tell you’re having a bad night. The thing with Wooyoung [which is why he’s your bestfriend] is that he knows when he just needs to hold space for you and let you be in your peace. He doesn’t ask any questions, he doesn’t hound you for attention. He just lets you be the entire ride home. It’s not until you start breaking down again that he finally feels ready to ask, especially because he hates seeing you this way.
“Y/N, what is it?” Wooyoung lets out a breath when he sees you breaking down in the passenger’s seat. “Come on, let’s get inside first. Okay?” He says, hand coming to rub your back. You don’t respond so Wooyoung takes it upon himself to step out first before coming to your aid on the passenger’s side. He crouches to your level and unbuckles the seatbelt, wiping your tears away before getting you to walk to the apartment. He heads to the kitchen to grab you some water while you change and get into bed.
Wooyoung hears you quietly sniffling and crying to yourself, and he knows he can’t just leave you here like this. So, he places the water down, slips into your bed and holds you, telling you that things will be okay. To anyone, this probably would’ve looked incredibly wrong, and Hongjoong probably would’ve beaten his ass if he knew. But he doesn’t care; because Wooyoung will always do anything for you, especially after all the times you’ve dropped everything to be there for him without asking for shit in return. He cherishes you as his bestfriend and he will always put you first—
That goes to say, Wooyoung would never disrespect Hongjoong. He knows better than that, and if Hongjoong had a problem with him, he’d gladly talk it out and reassure him. Well, he’d at least hope Hongjoong was grown enough to do that.
But if not, then he thinks that's his own damn problem and his own damn fault for assuming and putting shit into his own head. Wooyoung has known you for so long that things like this— platonically laying in bed, consoling and being there for each other— comes so naturally. It doesn’t mean he’s trying to make a move on you [god, no], everyone knows that.
Except Hongjoong, I guess. It’s funny how he tries to flip the script on you when he knows exactly what he’s doing.
It’s kinda stupid, Wooyoung thinks. He should really know better after dating you for over a year at this point. He should really know better, period.
Right now though, you need him and that’s what he’s here for. He continues to quietly shush you and ease you to sleep, phone constantly vibrating and going off on the table. It’s not until he hears your soft snores that he carefully moves to grab your phone and attempt to turn it off, eyes glancing over Hongjoong’s texts and missed call notifications.
hongjoong: where are you?
hongjoong: y/n
hongjoong: assuming you’re with wooyoung
hongjoong: wow really, y/n? after tonight, too? of course you’d run straight to wooyoung
hongjoong: fuck this, whatever
Wooyoung scoffs to himself a bit, the audacity of Hongjoong for being so fucking upset over nothing. Don’t get him wrong. Wooyoung loves seeing you happy. It’s all he wants. And he loved Hongjoong for you. He really did. He thought you two were perfect and actually made for each other.
But, over time, he’s starting to question his thoughts, if he still stands in the same place he did a year ago. Because all this crying, this back and forth, nights of having to come save you; he sees you slowly changing. The light in your eyes dimming. Life slowly being sucked out of you. You aren’t the same bright, fun, loud Y/N you used to be and Wooyoung hates it when he really thinks about it. As the cherry on top [which Wooyoung also hates to admit], everything is becoming way too unhealthy. It’s the way that Hongjoong’s temper gets the best of him, the way all of your friends get involved one way or another. The way this will probably blow over tomorrow, and you and Hongjoong will go about your day like nothing happened.
What’s gonna be left of this?
What’s gonna be left of you?
Wooyoung feels his own phone vibrate, and it’s a text from Yunho. Granted, he kinda saw this coming. But again, he hates that this is what your relationship has become.
yunho: is y/n with you? hongjoong’s wondering where she’s at
wooyoung: where the fuck else would she be?
wooyoung: she’s at home, sleeping
wooyoung: had to pick her up cause she called crying after their argument
yunho: they fought again? over what?
wooyoung: idk but reading his texts, it sounds like part of it was about me
yunho: wtf why? i dont get it?
wooyoung: you and me both
yunho: alright well ill let him know shes safe and asleep. text me if u need me
wooyoung: thanks
wooyoung: also, tell him he can ask me directly next time. i’m not hiding anything, nor is y/n. bold of him to assume shit
He lets out a hefty sigh before setting his phone aside and slipping deeper into your covers, turning onto his side to give you some space.
When the following morning comes, Wooyoung wakes up to your hand on his arm as you reach over to grab your phone. He groans a bit, tugging on the sheets while you sit up and read through Hongjoong’s texts from last night.
“Fucking idiot.” He hears you mutter. As much as he wants to sleep in a little more, he can’t help but worry about you. So, he turns over and sees your fingers pinching at your bottom lip while you continue to read the texts— obvious the tears are building up the more that you do.
“Y/N, what the hell did you guys fight about last night?”
“It was so stupid.”
“Yeah, you’ve said that before.” You look at him and drop your phone, head resting back against the headboard.
“It started because Tara texted him asking if she could swing by for some company since her aunt passed. I got mad at him for it because I swear to god, she’s trying so hard to get back with him and he just lets it happen. I know he’d continue to help her and be there for her even though she has other friends she can rely on. Why does it have to be Hongjoong every fucking time?” You groan, tears already streaming down your cheeks. “And then he started attacking me about you, a-and—” You cry. “It’s unfair. It’s not the same, I don’t know why he’s suddenly making an issue about us or whatever, but it’s not the same and I thought he knew that. He was making me choose, saying I’d probably choose you at the end of the day and that I—”
“What a piece of shit.” Wooyoung says before sitting up and pulling you into a hug. “Nah, I get it. You don’t have to explain the rest.”
“It’s so stupid. Why would he say that when he knows it’s not the same? Tara’s his ex-girlfriend, why doesn’t he see it the way I do?”
“Because he knows he’s wrong and he doesn’t wanna admit it, Y/N. He’s looking for other things to pick at and blame. Deflecting.”
“I’m so done with him getting mad at me like this. I asked him to cut her off for a reason.” You pull away from him and wipe the remaining tears from your face. “I asked him to cut her off because she clearly didn’t give a fuck about me or our relationship. That girl knows no boundaries. She makes me feel anxious and I fucking hate it.”
“And you were right to do so.” You sigh.
“I feel like I’m never winning with him anymore.” You say quietly, defeatedly. “It just never feels like enough.”
“Don’t say shit like that. You’re doing more than enough, he’s just being dumb.” He sighs. “Are you going to talk to him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe later. I just need a moment to myself, I guess.”
“Take your time with it. Talk to him when you’re ready. Don’t let him determine that for you.”
“I know. Thanks for last night.” He gives you a small smile.
“I got you, always. And for the record, I know you’d choose me in the end.”
“Shut up.” You chuckle as you wipe at the stragglers running down your cheeks before pushing him out of your bed.
“Ow.” He pouts and whines. “Why would you hurt me?”
“I need to shower.”
“You should.” You smack him upside the head when you finally stand from your bed and grab a set of new clothes.
“Are you at least feeling better?”
“Kinda? Sleep did me well for sure.”
“It’s cause of me.”
“Wooyoung, I will—” He bites you on the shoulder with a loud laugh, causing you to yell and curse at him this early in the morning. Luckily, your roommate wasn’t home and was off at her internship. But goodness, does your bestfriend drives you nuts. Can’t live with him, can’t live without him.
Once Wooyoung leaves, you take a bit more time just to be in your own peace. You deep clean your room and the rest of the apartment, while playing some soft music in the background. Hongjoong’s call is what interrupts the music coming through your bluetooth speakers, sighing as you disconnect it and pick up the call. He asks if he can come over and talk, and you agree to let him swing by. You aren’t feeling 100% but you are feeling better enough to try and talk to him.
It doesn’t take more than 15 minutes before Hongjoong is walking through your door, kicking off his shoes and setting his wallet and keys off to the side of the dining table. He finds you sorting through some extra prints you’ve kept hidden in your desk drawer, your back turned to him even as he walks in and greets you.
“Hey.” Is all he says, sitting on the edge of your bed.
“Hi.” You turn to him, setting the prints aside.
“Hanging up more?”
“I don’t know yet. I bought these awhile ago and they’ve been sitting in my drawer. I need to figure out how I wanna put them up.” He leans back on his hands and nods. Even throughout all the stupid shit you and Hongjoong have been fighting about, you still find him to be the most handsome, the most charming; it truly makes your heart flutter every time you see him. He’s in a plain white tee and sweats, hair freshly washed and still a bit damp. The tattoo on his arm is poking out from underneath his sleeve and it drives you insane how attractive your boyfriend is.
“Mm.” He hums. “Did you sleep well?”
“Slept well enough.” You look at him. “What about you?”
“I slept alright. Was worried about where you were at.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else but my place, Joong. You know that.”
“With Wooyoung?” You look at him and let out a sigh, crossing your arms as you feel the anger within you grow again.
“Look, if you came here to argue some more, I don’t—”
“I’m not here to argue. I asked a simple question, Y/N.”
“Yes, he was here. But I don’t see why that would be an issue compared to Tara asking to come over.” He licks his lips, but he doesn’t say anything. Just nods.
“She just needs her friends.”
“So do I, but you don’t see me leaning on my ex for that kind of company.”
“We were good friends before we even dated.”
“But you dated, and that’s the shit she’s holding onto. As with anybody.” You roll your eyes. “I guess you did come here to argue.” He shakes his head.
“No. Forget it, I’m sorry.” Is all he says.
“Sorry for what?” You hate that you always have to ask him this because lately, it’s been feeling like he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for. Like he’s just apologizing to apologize and move past it. “You do understand where I’m coming from, right? Tara’s your ex-girlfriend and I asked you to cut her off for a reason. Wooyoung and I have been bestfriends for years, and we’ve never been anything more than that. We’re just used to being there for each other and having each other’s backs. It’s natural for us. It doesn’t always have to have a hidden meaning, Hongjoong. Don’t make me choose because it’s not the same thing. Why would you do that? Why would you get upset at me for assuming when you’re doing the same thing about my bestfriend?”
“I hear you. I truthfully don’t wanna fight about this anymore.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I cut her off, alright? Told her she couldn’t do that and expect me to be there for her anymore.” He lets out a heavy sigh as if it was a chore to do, as if he didn’t want to but had no choice.
“Hm.” You hum. It’s not that you don’t trust him, you just don’t trust her. But part of you has also begun to wonder if you could truly be comfortable with his responses— if you could sit back and relax, take it for what it is. It’s complicated. Too complicated for something that started off so simple and beautiful. So beautifully simple.
“Baby.” He calls you as he stands. “Can you come here, please? Look at me.”
“Hongjoong, I just don’t know what to say.” He holds you by the waist, hand on the small of your back while he kisses your forehead, temple.
“Trust me.” He slightly frowns. “I need you to trust me because I would never do anything to lose you, remember? Baby, nothing else matters.”
“Then trust me. Wooyoung would never disrespect you like that and I thought you knew that.” He nods.
“Yeah, I know. I was just upset.” He kisses you on the lips. “I’ll do better.”
And since that moment, Hongjoong was better. Really better. The feelings you felt during the beginning of your relationship with Hongjoong felt like they’ve returned. Hongjoong was good, so, so good to you— it was easy to trust him again and feel safe. He worked on building a safer space for you after the back and forth about Tara, making you feel like he truly understood you and wanted this relationship to flourish like it used to. He cared about you, and he loved you.
Little did you know that this would all come crumbling down in the future. All of it.
The hope that this would eventually pass, that it was just a bump in the road, dwindled when Hongjoong had reverted to his old ways—
You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.
But it breaks you, constantly breaks you, because at this point, you’re convinced it’ll never change.
Not anymore.
“Wooyoung’s graduation party is that weekend. He had to push it out so his family could travel over.” You say, washing your bowl in the sink before plopping back down on the couch with him.
“So you’re not gonna come with me to Jisung’s graduation?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“Can’t you at least stop by then go to Wooyoung’s?”
“No, because I told his parents I’d help get everything together, Joong.” You furrow your brows because you already know he’s angry, even though this has absolutely nothing to do with him.
“Alright.” Is all he says, continue to scroll through his phone.
“You’re not mad, are you?”
“I mean, I just wanted you to come along for a bit. I don’t understand why can’t do that, but I guess it’s cause of Wooyoung.” He looks at you again. “I should’ve expected that.”
“Hongjoong.” You call his name with a certain tone, one that says you don’t wanna revisit this so-called issue again.
“What, am I wrong?” He chuckles, but there’s an obvious drip of anger, of venom, in it. “Do you, Y/N.”
“Why are you being like that? I thought you would’ve understood by now.”
“Yeah, I have. It was always going to be Wooyoung anyway, so what the fuck is the point?”
“Why are we back here again? Why do I have to keep explaining myself to you? It’s not that I don’t wanna go to Jisung’s, I just promised Wooyoung and his parents I’d be there.”
“I’m sure an hour or so wouldn’t hurt.”
“Oh my god.” You run your hands through your hair and get up from the couch, heading into his room. “I know that’s not what you’re really trying to get at.”
“It’s true though, right? You’re just choosing Wooyoung like you always do. You’re right, maybe I should just stop because in the end it doesn’t matter. I always put you first, I do everything for you and I always take you into consideration. Everything is about you, and you never do the same—”
“I never do the same?!” You match his tone. The disbelief running through you is unbearable. You’re just not sure how Hongjoong has the audacity to say something like that when you’re always thinking about him and putting your own feelings aside to keep him happy.
But you would never hang that over his head like he does with you.
“You know that’s not true! I appreciate everything you do for me, but you don’t get to hang it over my head like that because I would never do that to you. I would never make you feel guilty about the things I do for you, or make you feel like you’re an obligation.”
“You make me feel that way all the time!” He yells. “You don’t even realize how much you do.”
“Oh, because of Tara? So sorry that was such a fucking tragedy for you!” He groans loudly before hitting the wall.
“For real, fuck this. Count me out of your graduation, too. I’m not doing this shit.”
“Hongjoong, what the fuck is your problem? My own graduation?”
“I don’t wanna do this anymore, Y/N! What the fuck is the point!” He repeats. The words cut through you like a sharp knife because damn, you weren’t expecting that out of this.
“Okay, you know what, Joong. I’m not gonna keep arguing about this with you. Do whatever the hell you want, call me selfish, whatever. I made a promise to my bestfriend and his family and I’m not going back on my word.” You pack up your things and head out the door, not taking one look at him.
“Yeah, whatever. Done with this bullshit.” He slams his room door, causing the walls to shake.
You cried when you got home that evening, but you weren’t crying because of the shit he said, the things he pulled, no. You were crying because you were exhausted and you felt like you had nothing left in you anymore. You didn’t have the energy to keep fighting back, you didn’t have the energy to explain yourself. You shouldn’t have to, and you don’t want to.
Was it wrong to turn down Jisung’s graduation for your bestfriend?
When you said you had no energy, you truly meant it, and Hongjoong clearly did, too. The both of you hadn’t texted or called, let alone seen each other in those two weeks. You weren’t really sure what Hongjoong was up to, but you couldn’t think about much while wrapping up senior year and getting ready for graduation around the corner. Maybe the break was needed, maybe you two really needed the space.
You honestly would’ve thought this was the end of you two.
He manages to prove you and everyone wrong again when he shows up to your graduation, with a big bouquet in hand. Wooyoung nudges you when he catches him across the street, walking over with San, Mingi, Jisung and a few other of their guy friends [who are probably here for Yunho]. He’s dressed in a dark grey short-sleeve dress shirt that’s loosely tucked into his black slacks with black boots. Your parents catch him on their way over to the field to get to their seats, pulling him into a tight hug before pointing over at you, Wooyoung, Ara and Yunho. Your parents [or his] never really knew the extent of your fights, which is why everything seems so fine and dandy in their eyes. Rose-tinted glasses, glitter and gold.
“Congrats!” San yells, hugging all of you before Mingi and the rest make their way around the group.
“You’re here.” You look at him with a slight fondness in your eyes because even though the past weeks have been a mess, Hongjoong still makes you weak. He gives you a tiny smile before pulling you in for a tight hug.
“I missed you. I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your temple before giving you a kiss. “Congrats, my pretty girl.” He tilts your chin up to press a kiss against your lips.
“Thank you, Joong.” He gives you another chaste kiss to the temple before they bid their farewells and rush to the field, the commencement ceremony scheduled to start in a few minutes.
It was a hot day, but nonetheless, a happy day. You felt happy finally getting through college and graduation with your bestfriends alongside of you. Your parents and Hongjoong stand near the stage to snap photos of you as you walk across and grab your diploma, the crowd roaring in celebration. After the ceremony, you, your friends, their families and loved ones all take hours to take photos together before agreeing to eat at a nearby restaurant together for a small, but intimate way to close the day. You would have never known that things had gone awry with you and Hongjoong with the way he lovingly held you, kissed you, kept you close. Though deep down, it was still hurtful to know that this wouldn’t last. That you’d have to accept the fact that this was only temporary.
Hongjoong’s graduation followed the next weekend, and you ended up heading to Jisung’s for a bit before helping with Wooyoung’s party. Wooyoung didn’t really like the idea, and you had apologized for going back on your promise of sticking with him throughout the entire party. But it happened anyway, even if Hongjoong dropped you off to head to Jisung’s party without you.
As long as you were okay, as long as you had stopped crying and feeling so shitty, Wooyoung was okay. Even though he really couldn’t stand what this had become.
But if Wooyoung could save your world from crumbling just a little bit longer, he’ll do that.
Fuck the rest.
—CURRENT
“My birthday baby.” Hongjoong squeezes at your hips before biting onto his bottom lip, eyes ogling your dress and how it hugs you in all the right places, fits perfectly over your curves.
“Hi.” You smile up at him, hands lazily hanging around his neck.
“You’re so beautiful, love.” He says softly, kissing the tip of your nose before moving down to your lips. Jaw. Neck. You giggle in his grip, gently pushing him back by the chest. “I love you.”
“Thank you. I love you, too.” You smile lovingly at him.
“Ready to go? I think everyone’s waiting for the birthday girl to arrive.” You laugh and nod, letting him lead the way to his car.
You and Hongjoong had a good talk about your relationship and where things stood, being able to communicate properly about your needs, wants, giving each other space and letting the other be their own person. There was a tiny conversation about his current status with Tara, and he vaguely told you that they were back to being friends but he swore up and down that it was just.. that. He told you honestly that he wasn’t sure why he had to cut her off when there wasn’t anything going on between them, and that he felt like he didn’t need to. That you needed to trust him and he’d have no problem reassuring you.
So, that was it. And it worked well. It was a bit of adjustment at first, but you knew giving Hongjoong the space he needed was crucial— just as it was for you. You had stopped coming along to every single party or hangout back at home, only seeing his parents from time to time unless they visited Joong at his apartment. It was the same with your family; yet again, none of them knowing what kind of rollercoaster had gone on in your relationship during the past two years.
They just took it as you two evolving in your relationship, keeping things healthy. Alive.
They barely knew about all the nights you cried, you yelled, breaking dishes and cups; having Wooyoung come and save you while Hongjoong stormed off.
You suppose it’s better that way. In the end, you two were still growing and learning. Maybe.
You ended up renting a small studio in the heart of the city after snagging a job right after graduation. Hongjoong and San moved into another place of their own, while Mingi moved back home to help his family and work for their company while he continued his job search. Wooyoung also lived in the heart of the city, renting an in-law while he worked his part-time job and internship at a bigger company. Everything seemed to be going well for everyone, and you couldn’t have asked for more at this point. It seemed too good at one point, but you weren’t going to dwell on it; taking everything for what it is.
The club you decided to celebrate your birthday at is packed with people, but you’re able to easily slip in since Wooyoung, Hongjoong and the rest of your friends chipped in for a VIP table. The DJ was already blasting his music, while you and your friends were off to a quick start with shots. It didn’t take long before you were drunk and dancing the night away with everyone, with Hongjoong— sharing cute, affectionate moments in between. It’s not until he steps away with San to grab another drink at the bar that Mingi swoops you away and playfully dances around with you for a bit; this being the very moment when everything changed.
When your world came crumbling down in one quick, swift motion.
“Dude, to be honest.” Mingi lazily keeps his arm around your shoulder while leaning in towards your ear. “I didn’t know if you and Hongjoong would actually make it through.”
“We had our rough patches, Mangi. I wasn’t sure what things would look like either, but we’re here.” You smile at him and he laughs.
“I know, I know. It’s just.. he had been with Tara a lot. It was confusing.” You furrow your brows at him. “But, I’m glad you two are okay and back to being good. Like.. I’m glad he’s with you. I know he can be dumb but I’m glad it’s you. You’re good for him, sometimes I don’t think he realizes it.” You’re a little appalled at the stuff coming out of Mingi’s mouth, and half of you wants to blame it all on the alcohol. Though, you know you can’t because where on earth would Mingi come up with this? Shit doesn’t just form out of thin air.
“Uh, yeah. I hope so.” Is all you respond with before he pinches your cheek and leaves.
“There she is.” Hongjoong finds you in the crowd, another glass in his hand. “Taste this, it’s so good.” You sip on the drink and nod in approval.
“Thanks, babe.” He gives you a look.
“You okay, baby girl?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Have you seen Ara? I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” His tilts your chin up.
“Yeah, I just really need to pee and freshen up.” He slowly nods.
“She’s with San over there.” He points behind you, where you find Ara and San flirting around like they always do. “Seems kinda busy though? I can wait for you outside the bathroom.”
“No Joong, it’s fine. I’ll be alright. I’ll be quick.” You give him a small smile, and he finally lets up with a quick kiss to your forehead and a quick ass-grab. You interrupt San and Ara, letting them know you need her to accompany you to the bathroom. She agrees, linking her arm with yours, but just like Wooyoung, she can tell something else is wrong. Who knows, maybe Hongjoong is onto you too, but you could care less because you don’t know how to confront him about this.
Nor do you want to on your birthday.
“My birthday girl! Are you drunk enough? Why do you look so sober?”
“It’s nothing.” She looks at you and holds you close to her side. “I just need some space.” Quite frankly, you just need her company more than anything. You just need somebody other than Hongjoong.
“Why? Did something happen with Hongjoong?”
“Mm, no.” You lie. You lie to her, you lie to yourself. You lie and you lie in hopes that it’ll ease the pain slowly seeping into your body, in hopes it’ll somehow make things easier for you to accept the harsh reality of your relationship.
Of your home.
“You sure? Do you wanna sneak out of here and go back to my place? You can tell me anything, you know that, right?” You nod. “Or do you want me to get Woo?”
“No, no. It’s okay. I’m just gonna freshen up and head back out there. Thanks for coming with me.” She smiles and squeezes your arm as you two move to the front of the bathroom line.
“Of course, my love!” She chuckles. “I’m glad you did because I didn’t realize how badly I needed to pee.” You laugh, resting your head against hers until a stall opens up for you two to squeeze in and share.
The rest of the night, you’re distancing yourself from Hongjoong enough so that you can still enjoy the night, but not keep him too close. It’s fucking painful to hear Mingi’s words repeatedly in your head, and even though you don’t have concrete evidence to back it up, you already know it’s not needed. You just know, and that is the worst feeling. And this— this is the same gut-wrenching anxiety that you’ve always felt every time she was around, every time you saw her name randomly pop up. It’s the same feeling in your gut, the same feeling that was telling you something was wrong,
Hongjoong doesn’t catch onto anything else, or at least, he doesn’t question you. Instead he has his hand on your thigh and showers you with kisses, oblivious to the fact that Mingi might have just knocked over and spilled his jar of secrets. The apartment is quiet since San is out grabbing food with a few others, giving Hongjoong leverage to kiss you in the living room— his urge, his need, evident through his touch, the deepening of the kiss, Hongjoong pushing himself up against you. But you break the kiss with a simple [but sad] smile, encouraging him to go wash up so you can follow. He laughs and whines a bit before he’s finally grabbing clothes and heading for the bathroom. You’re able to release the breath you’ve been holding, even though your chest hurts and you’re trying your best to not let this completely consume you.
The universe has different plans. Maybe, just maybe, it had been time for things to unravel.
A ding comes from Hongjoong’s phone, and you can’t help but glance at the screen. It’s Tara, but you’re having to unlock his phone to view the preview this time. You nervously navigate to his text thread with her, finding that the entire thread is choppy— big gaps in between dates, some closer than others. But, your eyes land on the first text in the thread and you instantly feel sick to your stomach.
It’s a text from about a year ago, during that summer when you spent with Hongjoong, with his family. The summer you couldn’t spend a second away from him because all you wanted was Hongjoong, all you wanted was to kiss him, cuddle him, keep him close.
The summer he bought you your favorite breakfast bagel and smoothie before dropping you off to go ‘home.’
hongjoong: do you wanna come over and stay the night at the apartment?
tara: yeah! should i leave soon?
hongjoong: yeah im just gonna be here
tara: i’ll be on my way!
tara: joongie i’m outside
hongjoong: meet you at the door in a sec
You feel your hands shaking the more you go through the thread, eyes welling up with tears as the realization hits and settles.
Hongjoong made you trust him, made you believe in everything he said. You put your faith in all his actions, thinking he was truly doing his best to make up for everything he’s done and said.
All of that going to waste.
hongjoong: you home? can i stop by and say hi?
tara: yup!
There is a huge gap after he claimed he so-called cut her off, but it doesn’t mean that the thread ends. There are other texts between them asking if the other is going to be at so and so’s house, or if the other is going to be at so and so’s party. There’s texts of Hongjoong asking if he can pop by and say hi at her place before there’s another big gap and Tara’s texting to ask if she can see him [spoiler: he says yes].
tara: are you going to channie’s?
hongjoong: yeah, are you?
tara: i’m not sure, i wasn’t really feeling it
hongjoong: go 😞
tara: lol why the sad face, isn’t your girlfriend coming?
hongjoong: nah shes not..
tara: ohhh okay, maybe then!
hongjoong: just go, wanna see you ☹️
You don’t even read the recent text because you simply can’t. You remember every single time he mentioned those kick-its, those parties, but not once did you ever think he’d mainly go to see Tara and vice versa. You toss the phone aside and begin to pack your things, fitting them in the bag you came with— not even worrying about how you can haul the rest out right now.
“Girl, I just got home from dropping Ara off. Please don’t tell me I have to slip back into my shit and—”
“Can you meet me at my place? Please.”
“Oh. Shit, yeah, of course. I’m already on my way.” He says, picking up on the shakiness in your voice. Hongjoong is still in the shower and you’re grateful you chose to drive to his place so that you can easily slip out and leave. You’re very much sober and at your breaking point; all you can think about is getting away as soon as possible.
Because the moment you step through your door, you collapse to the floor and start crying. Crying about all the fights, crying about all the times you let up and let Hongjoong get his way. Crying about all the times you let every little feeling, every little detail, brush over your head. Crying about how much you trusted him, loved him.
“Shit, Y/N. What the fuck?” Wooyoung immediately drops to the floor, arms thrown over you as he shushes you and tries to calm you down. He has never heard you cry this hard, has never heard you long for air this badly in between cries. It kills him and he’s not even sure how he can help you right now. And that for him is a first.
When you’re able to breathe a bit, you let everything out on the table. You tell Wooyoung what Mingi said, you tell him about the texts, you tell him about all these instances that you brushed over and didn’t think much of— when in fact, you should’ve stuck to your gut feeling and questioned everything. When you should’ve pressed harder, when you shouldn’t have trusted him so easily. And the realization hits you again because fuck, it is so painful to know that the person you loved for two years hadn’t really been there for you. That he was physically there, but his heart, his soul, wasn’t entirely yours. Probably wasn’t even yours to begin with. And you are so, so stupid for thinking Hongjoong was over her.
Maybe you were just the excuse.
The rebound.
The one he needed for his own selfish reasons.
It was never about you.
And Wooyoung continues to hold you and rock you, because there’s nothing like finding out that the person you invested in didn’t do the same back. There’s nothing like finding out the time you spent on someone, the amount of vulnerability, trust, emotion that came with loving someone for two years, had meant nothing. Wooyoung could murder Hongjoong right now, but that’s the least of his worries because Hongjoong isn’t crying his fucking heart out on a studio floor.
You are.
“I don’t know what I did wrong.” You mumble into his chest. “I don’t know why I wasn’t enough, Woo. How could he just do that to me? I meant nothing to him—”
“Y/N, don’t ever let me hear you blame yourself again. You hear me? This was not your fault. You gave everything your all to him because you were an amazing girlfriend. He fucked up, and he fucked up big time. This is all him.” Your broken sobs continue to echo in your studio, your phone now constantly going off from Hongjoong’s texts and calls. When he unlocked his phone to text you, he noticed Tara’s thread open. So he panics, and he panics.
Calling, texting. Almost ready to jump in his car and explain this even though he can’t.
But Wooyoung shuts off your phone and locks the door, telling Yunho, San and Mingi to tell Hongjoong to back the hell up. That he doesn’t want him near you, and that Hongjoong would know better than to confront the both of you right now.
It all feels like a blur, like white noise; static.
2 years of nothing.
Home to him might’ve meant so many different things; people, places, feelings. But to you, home was Hongjoong. Hongjoong has always been a home to you, everything about home. A home wasn’t a home without him.
But tonight, home looked a little different. Home looks like the empty bed you’re staring at, the dark room, the stillness of your surroundings even as Wooyoung sleeps on the couch. Tonight, home felt a little different, especially when you cry and feel your heart shatter to a million pieces looking at the cold, empty space next to you in bed, Hongjoong’s clothes from your closet tossed all over the place, ripped pictures across your desk that Wooyoung had to snatch out of your grip.
Because did you deserve this? All of this?
It was never about you.
Home was meant to be you and Hongjoong, but all the significant cracks in the relationship that lead to this, the one unfortunate blow that completely destroys you— every bit of you, everything you know, all the love that you’ve had.
Now, there is nothing left of you.
Nothing left of this home you built.
—a/n: ty for sitting through this very personal piece of mine; a reminder that you are beautiful and so, so deserving of the best love and happiness. ♡
—taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @hyukssunflower @everyonewooeverywhere @mcsalterego @persphonesorchid
#hongjoong x reader#kim hongjoong x reader#ateez x reader#hongjoong fanfic#kim hongjoong fanfic#kim hongjoong#hongjoong#ateez#hongjoong oneshot#kim hongjoong oneshot#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#hongjoong fluff#hongjoong smut#hongjoong angst#kim hongjoong angst#him hongjoong smut#kim hongjoong fluff#kpop imagines#hwaslayer: home
569 notes
·
View notes
Text
MIRAGE X READER
hii rotb has made me fall in love with...a lot more transformers now. This is just a silly idea I had, kinda lame but idc. Being cringe and free now. Anyways, planning to make this a small series maybe? Mirage lovers where are you?? Could eventually make this a mirage x reader x Noah, love them both, really. Or you know, Noah could be a third wheel, you guys decide that
[ human!gn reader summary: You have no idea how you got into this situation. First, you were trying to steal a true beauty of a car with your friend Noah to get some extra cash with Reek working behind the scenes (apparently) And now, you were in the Porche you guys were planning to steal. Mind you, it's currently driving itself.
"Holy shit!" You yelled in terror as the car careened wildly around the curve, sending both you and Noah lurching to the left side of the vehicle. You clung onto the door handle for dear life, your heart pounding in your chest as a combination of fear and adrenaline caused you to burst out into wild laughter. Noah, on the other hand, let out an ear-splitting, high-pitched scream as he death-gripped onto the steering wheel with both hands. "STOP STOP STOP!"
The radio kept picking up a certain frequency, it was static-y but still clear enough to understand it kept reaching out towards something or someone named Mirage.
After crashing several police cars, running red lights, and being tossed around the car, the silver and blue Porche entered a warehouse of some sort and literally tossed you out onto the cement. Noah groaned as he rolled on his side. You on the other hand, didn't manage to fall onto the ground and gripped onto the seat. You thought it was over but noo, all of a sudden the car decides to transform, its component parts moving and shifting into new positions. You stare in awe and fear as the walls around you warp and bend ever so slightly; the seat beneath you shifts away from you before slowly, almost hesitantly dropping you onto the ground. You stare up and after a couple seconds, the car transformed into a fucking robot. Towering several feet in front of you and Noah, you both stare up in fear. You're a bit amazed honestly, you're staring at a giant metal dude stretch and prance around the warehouse, ranting about being cooped up this entire time.
You and Noah shared a look.
"But that was cool, you guys are cool. A bit loud, ehh, but cool." The robot stood in front of you now, his gaze focused on the both of you. You froze, Noah scrambled around to pick up a metal pipe. "Woah woah woah!" The robot held his hands up. You cursed under your breath and scrambled to get behind Noah, trying to look for anything you can use as a weapon as the robot focused on Noah. You found a couple loose bolts and nuts on the ground and scooped them up in your palm.
You approached Noah's side, menacingly brandishing the tiny screws in your hand. The robot quickly put his hands in the air. "What are you gonna do, you gonna hit me?"
You both looked at eachother. Noah shifted, adjusting his stance while still holding up the pipe. "Maybe?" The robot made a noise akin to a scoff and his left arm started transforming into something else, oh god oh fuck. Before you even had time to register it, you threw a bolt at him. It hit his arm and he froze. "Hey- what?"
You were launching bolts at him, your shots greeted with a "hey, hey, hey!" each time they clanked against his frame. You kept getting closer, pushing him back further and further, surprising yourself with your own nerve. That confidence instantly disappeared when he whipped out his arm-gun, the blue light from the barrel seemed to lock onto you and Noah, like two deer in headlights. "Can you- stop throwing those things at me?!"
"woah, woah, woah-" Noah quickly put his hands up and walked up to you, standing in front of you. "Let's all calm down, alright? Alright? We good?" "Noah, what the hell is this about?" You whisper yelled.
"I dont know! Just dont get us killed" he whisper yelled back.
You huffed defiantly, you quickly took the bat from Noah's hands and tightly gripped it. You adopted a battle-ready stance, staring down the giant robot - thing? - truly unyielding. Neither of you backed down until he put the gun down, straightening up. "Okay okay, you're brave. I like that."
Your face dropped, dumbfounded. Noah reached out and firmly snatched the bat from you, his face a mask of barely-contained irritation. "what did I fucking tell you about not trying to get us killed, dude?" He hissed.
What the hell was going on.
#transformers x reader#transformers rotb#rotb x reader#rotb mirage#mirage x reader#maccadam#rise of the beasts#tf x reader#noah diaz
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
I’m just now becoming obsessed with Logan after the Deadpool Wolverine movie and I need more fics!!
Logan and Wade protect the reader at all costs bar from some asshole then realise she’s too drunk to drive herself home?? Some smut 🥹🥹
Drunken Force
Wade x Reader x Logan
2595 words
WARNINGS: P in V, smut, non-con, rape, Somnophila, crying, double penetration, some comfort, kidnapping, alcohol, language. Use of the word "Retarded" to describe a drunk man.
MINORS DNI
You fall to the concrete, the bouncer's hands finally leaving your arms as he throws you out. Apparently, there’s a new drinking limit, and you obviously weren’t very happy about it, then caused some big ass scene because you couldn’t get another shot of whiskey.
So now here you were, looking stupid as you wobble to get back to your feet, immediately having to hold onto the hood of some stranger's car in order to keep yourself up, but you let go of it to look back at the bouncer who shakes his head at you, making you giggle. Fuck today was horrible. Your friends all fucking hated you and you weren’t sure why, and you fucked up one of your missions at work. Now you couldn’t just drink everything away. Oh, and to add to the problems. You take your phone out of your pocket. The asshole of a bouncer fucking broke it when he threw you to the ground, so now you couldn’t even call an uber. Fucking shit.
“Hey, beautiful.” Ew. The voice makes you turn around. Some ugly ass drunk dude walks towards you, and even in your drunk state, you want nothing to do with him, so you just ignore him and walk away, stumbling towards the wall to keep yourself up. “Oh come on baby.” You hear him jogging lightly to stop you, grabbing your arm and turning you around. “I just wanna have some fun with a beautiful babe tonight…” He holds your waist and walks you until your back is against the wall. You would’ve already broken his fucking jaw if you weren’t drunk right now. “I gotchu baby…” His words are slurred, making him sound absolutely retarded, and his breath was revolting as his hot nasty breath fanned over your face, making you turn away and gag, you would’ve actually thrown up if his hand didn’t shoot up and force you to face him.
“Get the fuck off of me.” You finally mumble. You knew you probably wouldn’t be able to overpower the asshole drunk, but it never hurt to try. Well. It might hurt a little.
“Bad words for such a cute little mouth.” That’s not hot dude. “It would look a lot better around my cock.” He tries to reach up and touch your lips, but you suck your lips in and turn your head again. His nasty fucking hands aren’t touching shit.
“I said, get the fuck off of me.” Your voice is more stern this time, hoping that somewhere in his fat head he would back off. But nope. Instead, he has the fucking audacity the backhand you, not very hard since he was drunk, but it still made your head turn.
“This is the part where you shut the fuck up, and I fuck you right here on this fucking wall.” He growls into your ear.
“Just leave me alone dude.” You look back up at him. You’ve gotten many worse threats in your line of work. It wasn’t exactly for the weak to be a mercenary.
He scoffs. Oh I’m sorry was that fucking funny? Your face contorts in anger, and just as you're about to go off on him, another voice takes the show.
“She said to leave her the fuck alone.” You look over the asshole's shoulder, and behind him are two men, both were tall and definitely hot that was undeniable. But one was wearing some kind of costume. Red and black with white little eyes
“You dude, and you are not hot enough for a babe like that.” The other guy, the one wearing a costume, makes a circle movement with his hand towards you, and the asshole fucking speaks up again, his voice revolting enough to make you gag again.
“Just mind your own fucking business, cocksuckers.” He turns around on the last word, and you think his nasty mouth is about to touch your lips, but instead his hand collides with the wall next to your head, hard. Then he’s pulled away from you, the larger man had his hand fucking pulling the dudes hair as he threw him to the ground, and you stayed plastered to the wall.
“Wanna keep running your fucking mouth asshole?”
“Uh oh, daddy is not happy.”
“Dude what the fuck! She’s my girlfriend!” Ew what no the fuck you are not.
“No the fuck I ain’t” You chuckle, the alcohol in your body turning it into a giggle, and the man with the beard has his eyes land on you.
“Look dude, say one more word, and I’m just gonna shove this down your throat,” He pulls a gun out of a holster on his costume, “And I’m gonna fucking shoot you.” The asshole finally get up to his knees, then stands up, taking one last look at you before finally fucking leaving.
“Are you alright?” One of the men walked up to you, and you hoped to God he wouldn’t touch you, you felt nasty enough, even if this guy was a fucking God.
“Yea. I’m okay, thank you.” You tell him, taking a step forward and losing your balance still fucking drunk and you fall into the costume dudes arms as he catches you.
“Hope you’re not driving like that.” You shake your head.
“Was gonna walk.” You stand straight again, still wobbly as you do.
“Yea I don’t think so.” Excuse you? “You can barely stand, what makes you think you can walk home, especially with an asshole like that around?” He nods in the direction the drunk man went. You close your eyes for a moment, a ringing sound in your head that makes you wanna puke causing your brain to throb.
“Well, I can’t call an uber, the bouncer broke my phone when he threw me out.” You shrug, and shift a little while standing, causing you to lose your footing again, but this time the costume dude was ready to catch you.
“How about we take you home instead?” The man offers as he holds you, and you can feel the look he gives the bigger man. “Cause Logan, clearly this little bunny can’t walk home, there’s a fox on the loose, haven’t you watched Zootopia?”
“You mean the movie where everything was fine in the end?” Logan asks. “Not the best movie to compare to the situation. But if she would like a ride.” He looks down at you, still being held by the costumed dude. “Then yes Wade, we can take her home.” Wade and Logan.
You nod a little. “That would be awesome, but you guys aren’t like… serial killers or anything right?” Your words slur a little, and Wade speaks behind you.
“Uhhh well.” He looks up at Logan. “Yes, and no.”
“That works.”
They take you to their car, Wades arm around you as he walks you and helps you into the back of a rusted red pick up truck and you feel your back pocket get lighter as he puts you in, but as soon as the engine starts, your eyes feel heavy, and you fall asleep with your head leaning on a window, only one thought in your mind. They don’t know your address.
When you wake up, sore you might add. Well, you didn’t expect to wake up. But you do, and you actually shoot up. Realising you’re definitely not in your home for one, and then two you were on a couch, but you relax a little, remembering you didn’t tell the guys your home address last night, and assuming they’d take you home once they woke up, so you lean back, hugging your knees to your chest, your brain throbbing with a headache.
“Do you need anything?” You flinch, one of the men from last night standing next to the couch, only wearing pyjamas, low enough to see his V line but you immediately look away.
“Uh, no. I’m sorry about last night, and I fell asleep before I could… Tell you my address.” You only just realised how fucking stupid you sounded, making you shrink into yourself.
“You’re alright bunny, figured you could stay here anyways.” Stay? That didn’t sound right.
“Oh, is my little girl awake?” Little fucking girl? You hear Wade's voice, before he’s standing opposite of Logan. Logan on your left, Wade on your right, also only wearing pyjamas. Just with unicorns on them. And your heart starts to panic. Why the fuck would drunk you let this happen? You’d have to talk to yourself later and put yourself down to fucking forgive yourself later. If there is a later.
“She is, looking a lot better too.”
“She looks amazing in my shirt.” What- You look down, you’re wearing a white shirt with a fucking unicorn on it, and only then do you realise you’re also not wearing anything fucking else.
“I better have at least been awake.” You try to lighten the mood, then Logan sits next to you, his hand gently squeezing your thigh.
“You were.”
“For the most part.” Wade adds. But regardless, they still fucking raped you, and you were acting much calmer than you should’ve been.
“And we woke up nice and early, just so you’d be more awake this time.” His finger gently moves a strand of hair out of your face, but that sentence was apparently enough to trigger you, and you start to move off the couch.
“No, I think I’ll actually be going now.” Your voice is higher than normal, and as you stand, Wade has made his way in front of you, and his palm lands on your chest before he pushes you back down.
“It wasn’t a question, peanut.” He tells you, then makes his way down to straddle your lap, and you feel Logan's lips suddenly attach to the skin on your neck, making your eyes widen as you try to lean away from him, but Wade keeps you steady by leaning down and kissing the other side of your neck.
“Please… stop.” You whine, then start to try pushing at him but he’s a fucking brick and he just leans in closer, and you feel Logan bite you gently as you start to struggle.
“Just relax, let us take care of you. It’s the least you can do considering we helped you last night.” Wade tells you, getting off of you and picking you up with a vice grip as he carries you away from the couch and Logan follows, getting on top of you the second you’re thrown onto a bed. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’d already be fighting these assholes if you knew you would be able to, but they’d probably be able to snap you like a fucking twig.
“Oh, fuck.” A moan escapes your throat as Logan moves down and you leave your thoughts as he sucks your clit into his lips gently before licking your hole, Wade crawling on top of you, his own lips attaching to yours. And it was already too much.
Wade sucks the fucking life out of you with the most starven kiss you have ever fucking experienced, leaving you breathless as Logan worked on making you cum, at some point causing you to moan into Wades mouth as he pumps his fingers into you. And you were sure you looked a fucking mess with Wades hickeys decorating your neck in purple and red marks on your hips from the fucking grip hes had on you, trying to keep your hips steady as you tried to rock yourself against Logan, coming closer to your finish with every second that passed.
And finally as you do cum, your moans silenced in Wades lips, you hear Logan say something, but you don’t hear it as you finally get to catch your breath, Wades mouth leaving yours before he sits up, wasting no time as he leans back against the bedframe with your back against his front, and you feel his hands moving around as he’s making you straddle him before he pushes himself into you with no warning, erupting another moan from your lips as he pulls you back against his chest, and your left to watch Logan as he also his removes his cock from his pants and it hits his stomach as he kneels in front of you. Whispering shit you could barely hear into your ear but it still makes you whine as his lips touch yours, kissing you like he fucking hated you before his hands took hold of your thighs, the lack of recent movement helping you think.
“You sure we’ll both fit?” You hear Wade behind you, but you still aren’t conscious enough to even comprehend the meaning behind his words.
“I’ll make sure we do.” Was all Logan said before moving you with Wade still inside of you, him moving with you until you’re both comfortable and Logan's fingers making their way back into your cunt, stretching you impossibly further. “You’re being such a good fucking girl.” and “Can’t believe you tried telling us no.” Were only words that fell on your deft ears.
A sort of scream erupting from your throat as he gets closer to you, trying to push into you and you swear you feel something warm trickle down between your bodies as he manages to shove himself inside of you, you assume it’s blood, considering your current fucking position as Logan pulls out a little, then slams back into you, causing another scream to come from your throat, tears starting to fall from your eyes and your hands move up to Logans shoulders as you try to push him off of you.
“Hey, hey.” He groans, but his voice is soft as his hands move up to hold your face, squishing your cheeks a little as he stares into your eyes, his look was almost comforting and it probably would’ve soothed you more if you were being fucking torn in half. “Just breathe okay.” He mumbles slightly, his lips hovering over yours as he gently runs small circles over the sensitive spot under your ear, slowly pushing the rest of himself inside of you, but it’s not as painful as your breathing matches his, eventually, after feeling him move a little more inside of you, the pain does go away. “See? It’s gonna feel so good, just relax.” He tells you, then you feel Wades hips begin to jerk, slower than Logan’s as they both fuck you, Logan’s pace eventually picking up, and Wade takes his turn to whisper into your ears, but you don’t hear it. Your body feeling tired and stressed as they both violate you.
With Logan kissing you, and Wades sweet words, eventually you do reach your edge, moaning into Logan’s mouth as they feel your walls tighten around them, groans emitting from both of their throats as you’re still sandwiched between them.
Then the room is filled with moans, yours being the loudest, then they both move, and you feel hollow without them inside of you, but worry crosses your eyes as you see a trail of blood leave you as Logan pulls out, and Wade lifts you gently off of him. Placing you down next to him and you look stupid out of your mind as you immediately lean down on his shoulder, your eyes fluttering closed but you see Logan pulling his pyjamas back up as he moves to sit on your other side, kissing the top of your head.
“Can we keep her?” Wade asks him.
“Yes, we can keep her.”
#marvel#marvel smut#fanfic#marvel fanfiction#smut#x reader#wolverine#deadpool#wade#wade wilson#Logan#logan howlett#deadpool and wolverine#logan x reader#wade x reader
181 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sex Drive*
summary: basically just a threesome with luke and mgk that has been sitting in my drafts for about two years.. yes I'm horrible.
warnings: everything filthy; breeding, degradation, slapping, choking, double penetration, squirting.. the lot, you know?
word count: 8k of pure filth
Luke knew Colson long before they signed with Interscope records but he can not recall ever talking to him. What he knew though was that this man never failed to put on an amazing show and even better parties, according to their mutual friend Ashley. He heard about many of his positive traits and he tried to remember them while the lanky dude with about a hundred tattoos downed his fourth shot of tequila for that night. His best friend was a big fan of his music, that much he recalled, always blasting his newest album Hotel Diablo in the car and singing along loudly. Luke even overheard her talking about Colson releasing a vibrator as part of his Valentines Day merch, he wasn’t sure if she ever bought it… which wouldn’t surprise him though. The lead singer eyes the tall rapper talking to a few girls on the other side of the room and questions himself whether or not he should start a conversation with him, for the sake of Fleur. Luke’s christmas party is in less than a week and he just knows that Fleur would be the happiest girl on earth if he invited him. So that’s what he does, after his drink is finished he makes his way over to the man that is about as tall as he is and introduces himself.
He mentally thanks himself for deciding to come to Interscope’s Christmas party as both of them lose themselves in a chat about music and their shared love for pop punk, especially Blink-182.
That was the story of how Luke’s friendship with Colson, in the industry known as Machine Gun Kelly, started. You could leave it at that if it wasn’t for Luke’s infamous christmas party that he threw at his house every year, which Colson was invited to… of course. And that was where he met Fleur.
With her brown skin and braided hair she made her way through the hallway, carrying a few bottles of liquor that she seemed to have brought from her car. “Let me help you!” Luke spoke quickly, taking two bottles of rosé from her before kissing her cheek and telling her to make herself comfortable, which shouldn’t be too hard since she basically already lives at his place.
Colson watches the scene unfold in front of his eyes, leaning against the wall and picking his beer up for a sip. The girl that just walked in is drop dead gorgeous, in his eyes at least. He loves the way her dress hugs her curves and he absolutely fucking adores when she throws her head back to laugh at something Luke said. He picks up that she’s not wearing a bra, her nipples visible through the fabric… he swears he didn’t mean to stare, he just randomly notices. He’s a lot taller than her and it makes his cock swell just a little bit as he imagines all the dirty things he could do to her. Keeping his composure though, he walks over to his girl of the night, setting the beer down on the table and greeting her with a simple “hi!” If he didn’t look close enough he wouldn’t even have seen the excitement on her face as she looks up into his eyes. “Oh look who Luke invited..” She smirks, bringing the sparkling wine to her lips, her red lipstick leaving a stain on the glass.
“Actually… now I’m really glad I came.” He shoots back, taking her hand and shaking it. “Colson.” He speaks, not letting her hand go until she tells him “Fleur”. After hearing her name he can’t help but think that she really does smell like a flower, like daisies actually… a soft smell, like a warm Spring day.
It does get better though, half an hour later when both of them are lost in the crowd together, her body pressed against his, he can make out her coconut body wash under the thin layer of sweat on her neck. His hands are on her waist and he guides her to the beat, fingers digging into the flesh beneath her shirt. He feels her ass press against his crotch and he just knows that she is doing it on purpose. He leans his head down to plant a quick kiss to her neck, a satisfying sigh leaving her mouth. “We got two options, Colson. You either follow me now or I’ll find a room and a way to get myself off like I do with my vibrator.” Straight forward, no bullshit. Her hands brush against his crotch and she throws him a kiss before disappearing, leaving Colson a horny and drunken mess in the middle of the living room. Without thinking twice he finishes his drink and follows her until she opens a door at the end of the hallway and waits for him to step inside. When he does, she’s lying down on the bed, a seductive smile on her lips, just waiting for him to come over and fuck her brains out. Colson has other plans as he quietly closes the door and exhales, leaning against it and licking his lips. He watches her every move with hungry eyes, images of him filling her mouth with his cock prominent on his mind. But he’s got time tonight… more than enough. He is going to make her beg. Still leaning against the door, he moves his fingers, motioning for her to come over. His arms crossed on his chest, his gaze is fixated on her walking over to him.
The size difference makes her heart race and she looks up into Colson’s magnificent eyes, a wave of heat taking over her body when he presses his lips to hers, testing the limits. He tastes like beer and her taste reminds him of the disgustingly sweet watermelon vodka. Fleur is standing on her tippy toes and she’s grabbing onto his shirt, Colson’s teeth lightly biting down onto her bottom lip, waiting for her to open up. Tongue licking into her mouth, he huffs quietly, squeezing her butt while he’s at it. While the two of them are making out against the wall, hands all over each other, Colson pushes his left leg forward. The fabric of his jeans meets her panties and if it wasn’t so dark he would have been able to see her mouth opening and forming an o-shape. Fleur hopes he can’t feel the damp spot on her panties against his leg, hopes she doesn’t make a mess on his ripped jeans. But when her lover for the night stares at her, breathing heavily for a few seconds before mumbling a low “fuck” and connecting their lips for a needy kiss again, all her worries are gone. Large hands still on her ass, he pulls her forward with such force she collides with his hard chest, her barely covered pussy sliding against his leg.
He then gets a loud moan out of her, dick straining against his briefs. “Wanna be a good girl for me and get yourself off on my thigh? Wanna beg for it, slut?” Colson’s voice is needy, sexy and raw but his eyes show curiosity, as if he wants to ask her: is this okay? Do you really want to do this? Her knees almost give in when Colson calls her a slut, the humiliation having a strangely unexpected effect on her, panties now drenched in arousal. And Colson feels it, god does he love it. “Please… wanna use your thigh..” This is so fucking filthy and taboo, begging for her favorite singer to let her grind against his tattooed leg. Just when Fleur thought it could not get any better, he bites her earlobe and whispers: “want you to call me daddy if we’re gonna do it properly… know it gets you off, so… try again.” From what she can make his look out it looks challenging, he wants to see her crack, wants nothing more than for her to fall right into euphoria because of him. All of this already feels too good to be true but when she moans “daddy please… need your thigh” he breaks and pushes his leg up, right against her clit while holding her in place with his strong arms. Her moans are music to his ears while both of them start grinding against each other, rolling away from the door and onto the wall, him slowly feeling a wet patch forming on his blue jeans.
Both of them are so caught up in one another, bodies tangled together, sounds of pleasure falling from their lips, they don’t even notice the door opening and a perplexed Luke standing in the hallway. His eyes are bloodshot and he looks helpless, red stained shirt that used to be white clinging to his body. “Fuck I’m… shit..” he stammers, catching Colson’s attention. Luke’s heart feels like it’s going a million miles an hour when he locks eyes with his best friend being held up by one of his co-workers… if you can call him that. He hates that he gets hard just from looking at her messy hair and smudged make-up. But what he hates the most is that the size difference between the two of them makes him break into a sweat, imagining if she’d also look this small on his lap. Right now Luke is really fucking thankful for the lack of lighting in his room because he’s certain they would have both seen his bulge.
He swallows the lump in his throat, trying not to look at her exposed lace thong that is now visible since her dress has ridden up. “I just… new shirt..” His voice comes out dry and he mentally facepalms himself for not being able to bring out a normal sentence as he points at the wine-stain on his shirt. “Come in… close the door.” Colson orders, surprising both him and Fleur. A new thought formed in his head just a few seconds ago, something even more filthy than making her beg for his cock. He wants to see her beg for two cocks, he wants her to be absolutely fucking wrecked by the end of the night. Kells has never been one to share his girls but right now he just could not give a single fuck, unable to form a coherent thought. The younger one hurries to close the door and make his way over to his closet, pulling out a random shirt. He’s unaware of the four eyes watching him as he takes off his dirty shirt, Fleur having climbed down from Colson’s lap and sneaking over to her best friend. His skin is kind of sweaty and hot but she doesn’t mind when reaching her hand out to trace her nails down his back, examining his broad shoulders. The girl immediately picked up where this was going when Colson pressed his hard on against her tummy the moment Luke had closed the door. He wanted this and she wanted Luke, young, innocent Luke, as well as the rapper with his dominant attitude.
The two of them could not be more different if they tried, Colson’s skin splattered with ink while Luke’s remained pure and creamy white. Their personalities are completely different but the thought of Luke having a kinky side to him that she doesn’t know about makes her stomach twirl and do backflips. Colson does not have Luke’s broad shoulders but he’s just as tall as the 22 year old, the two of them easily towering over Fleur.
All of them notice the dim light in the corner of the room that Luke turned on when looking for his shirt. It illustrates his skin when Fleur touches him, goosebumps rising on his arms. “Stay.” She whispers, fingertips on his bare back, caressing him. His eyes are closed while he rubs them, certain he’s had one too many this night because this can’t be happening. It’s simply not possible that Fleur is hugging him from behind now, arms wrapped around his torso. Before he can process what’s happening, she has him turned around, curls dangling in his face. He nervously looks over to Colson and sees him taking his shirt off, the tattoos looking like a second skin. What he also notices is that the other guy in the room does not have an ounce of body fat, he’s like a fucking spaghetti noodle. And it makes Luke feel a little bit insecure, being exposed to both of them. It’s all gone from his mind when she kisses his collarbone while standing on her tippy toes, she can’t get higher than this. Her lips are so soft and it makes Luke’s knees buckle just the slightest bit, especially when she kisses down towards his nipples, flicking her tongue over the right one. Her wet muscle dances over his skin, down to his belly button and she can taste the red wine on his skin, which someone had splashed over his shirt just a few minutes ago.
At this point she is kneeling on the floor in front of him, knees digging into the soft carpet, marvelous eyes digging into his as she gazes up at him through her eyelids. Luke could swear he forgets how to breathe that very moment because now he can definitely sense where this is going and he clearly fucking likes it. “You little whore… got Luke all hard and now you’re being a fucking tease? I don’t think that’s nice at all.” Colson’s voice catches both of them off guard, he is a lot closer than he was just a minute ago, standing behind Fleur. She just licks her lips and tries not to let Luke see how turned on she is from being treated with little to no respect from the older man… so pathetic. Suddenly he grabs her hair with just a bit of force and pulls it, making him look up to her. “Fucking answer me when I talk to you, toy.” His voice is dripping with lust and he sounds dangerous, his gaze though is examining her body language to make sure she’s alright. “Yes daddy.. I- I’ll make it up… to him.” Luke is fucking shocked when he sees her smiling after mouthing the word ‘daddy’ with a bittersweet voice, his jaw falling open, cock thickening even more. He needs attention and he needs it there. Even though he is not so sure if he’d be able to contain himself now that he has his gorgeous best friend on her knees for him and his friend calling her a slut. He keeps quiet. Before Fleur can process it, Colson is bending down and grabbing her jaw, making her whine. “You better.” Colson says calmly and then he slaps her cheek, not too hard but enough to make the slap echo through Luke’s bedroom. “Mouth open” he then instructs, Fleur obeying him. Before any of them can comprehend what he‘s trying to do, he has collected some saliva and he‘s spitting it right into Fleur‘s awaiting mouth.
It‘s only when Luke whines quietly, being so fucking turned on it hurts, that both of his friends are reminded of his presence. Colson wants to speak for him, wants to tell the gorgeous woman with the braids in her hair to take Luke‘s cock into her mouth already when Luke speaks, his voice laced with neediness. “Will you take my cock into your mouth, babygirl? Be a good girl for us?” He swears he doesn’t think straight when his thumb reaches out and caresses the sore skin on her cheek that Colson slapped a minute prior. Fleur presses her thighs together to get some sort of friction because now she’s basically dripping down her legs. There’s something about Colson being rough with her, demanding and dominant, but Luke praising her and calling her babygirl and good girl. Maybe that’s just what she needs, someone pushing her limits and someone else reassuring her. Her best friend opens his fly, pushing his jeans down just a bit, she waits impatiently. He’s wearing briefs and Fleur can see the outline of his dick, painfully hard. “Give it a kiss, lovie.” Luke mumbles, playing with her hair. So that’s what she does, she kisses him through his boxers, her tongue wetting the fabric, licking over his head where she swears she can taste just a little bit of pre-cum. Fleur’s hands slowly pull Luke’s briefs down, cock springing free. He’s hard and heavy and he hisses when it hits the rather cold air.
“Get naked.” Colson orders from the bed, palming himself through his pants, watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes. The woman wants to reach for the hem of her dress when Luke already pulls it off of her, careful as to not rip it. She pulls her drenched thong off of her legs and before she can stop herself, she throws it over on the bed, next to Colson’s head, a cheeky smile on her face. He grabs it immediately, an animalistic growl leaving his lips. “God you fucking whore… dripping for both our cocks?” He doesn’t expect an answer when he lies down on the bed, sniffing her panties. Fleur instead looks up to Luke, his skin red. His dick is about an inch away from her face, average in size but rather thick. The veins running up his shaft are downright sinful, not to mention his pretty pink head. She wraps her hand around it, her tongue licking over his balls, a quiet moan coming from Luke. She never thought she’d be in this position, on her knees for her best friend. Luke on the other hand fantasized about this many times before, preferably in the middle of the night, with his slicked up cock fucking in and out of his fist.
She collects his pre-cum and lubes up his dick with it, slowly jerking him off while putting his balls in her mouth, swirling her tongue around them. Luke thinks she looks content, batting her eyelashes at him. So he moans, a devilish combination with her slurping sounds and her fingers moving around his wet cock. It’s so fucking hot, not just metaphorically. To Fleur it feels like the temperature has risen to around 100° Fahrenheit since Luke has entered the room, her hair slightly sweaty as the curly haired man carefully gathers it in his hands so it wouldn’t fall in her face and get in her way. She listens closely and hears Colson moaning quietly while she kisses the head of Luke’s cock. Trying not to think about her glistening pussy being on full display to Colson, she licks Luke’s pretty dick up and down, his body reacting immediately. He fists her hair tighter when she finally takes him in, her warm, wet mouth engulfing him… and Luke has a hard time not cumming on the spot, thinking about what her pussy would feel like if her mouth is already heaven on earth. A pornographic moan leaves his mouth and Kells can’t help but smile, excited for what this night has in store for him and the others. The gagging sounds coming from the beautiful girl kneeling on the floor, combined with her spitting on Luke’s cock every now and then make the rapper throb. She has him so fucking deep in her throat, Luke just has to pull her away after a few minutes and kiss her forehead, out of breath. Tears are streaming down her face while she sniffles and gives him the cutest smile someone could give after taking a dick down their throat. His stomach almost does back-flips from her simple gesture, his thumb wiping her tears away and a whisper leaving his mouth: “So good to me, baby… took me so well, I loved it.” He holds on for a second, thumb swiping over her bottom lip, her warm mouth allowing him in. “Think she deserves a reward, am I right Kells?”
His shy smile turns into a confident smirk as he watches Colson get up from his previous position and walk over to the two of them. Before Fleur can even register what is happening, he is kneeling down behind them, licking a stripe up her soaking pussy, all the way from her clit to her entrance, her legs almost giving up and making her drop to the ground but Luke catches her, holds her hair and presses his lips to hers. Fleur’s eyes are shut in pleasure, little mewls escaping her slightly opened mouth, going over right into Luke. Colson is gripping her hips so tight that she’s sure she will find his handprints on them later in the night when she’s all by herself again, eyeing herself in the massive bathroom mirror. His tongue softly presses against her clit, face buried between her legs as he gets a taste of her. Luke can see that his friend is hard behind her, boxers pulled down to his ankles.
Colson’s fingers find her entrance after eating her out for a good five minutes and he slowly inserts one finger, examining her reaction as she throws her head back, mouth opening. He’s sitting down behind her, one hand slowly pleasuring her, other one pulling her back by her hair so she’s settling down on his lap. The younger man has a smirk on his lips as he sits down in front of his best friend and loosely wraps his hand around her throat, making her teary eyes look up at him. He kisses her softly before licking his thumb and slowly bringing it to her clit, earning a soft sigh from her. The combination from both Colson and Luke pleasuring her is too much for Fleur, nails digging into Luke’s shoulder, trying to hold on to something as her body shakes. “What a dirty fucking whore.” Colson mumbles in her ear, right as he lets go of her hair and slaps her rosy cheek. Once, twice.
In her hazy mind, she notices Colson’s fingers disappearing and Luke’s slowly rubbing over her clit, slowly sending her over the edge and making her let out a pornographic moan, legs shaking. It feels like heaven to her. “Yeah, let go baby… sound so pretty when you cum for us… such a good girl.” In her overstimulated mind she notices lips on her neck, kissing and nibbling on that sweet spot that leaves her legs shaking as she’s coming down from her high. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke sees Kells still stroking himself behind her, hand on her hip. “Mind if I have a taste?” He asks the older one, as if Fleur isn’t even present, as if she has no say in this… and it turns her on so much. “All yours, man,” Kells smirks and steps back a little, leaving enough room for the singer to get behind his best friend and trace his finger over her soft thighs. A shiver runs down her spine and she jerks away from him at first, the sensitivity of her first orgasm still washing over her. “Aw baby, know you’re so sensitive… but I’m dying to taste you, need to have you right now.” With that, Luke picks her up and gently throws her on the bed that Colson is already sitting on. He’s fully naked now and for a quick moment Luke checks out all his tattoos that seem like a second layer of skin. “Lu, please…” His best friend is slowly grinding against nothing, her pussy so fucking wet in front of him, she’s almost dripping onto his bedsheets.
The sound of her breathy moans and pleas has his dick impossibly harder between his legs, throbbing for her… but she has to wait, cause Luke reaaally loves hearing her beg, he decides. “Please what?” He mocks her, slowly settling between her thighs, rubbing the inside of it. “N-need you.” A slap echoes through the room, before Colson speaks. “Speak up bitch, how is Luke supposed to know what you n-n-need when you can’t even form a proper sentence, huh?” His big hand rubs the slightly sore skin on her cheek and she swears she has never been more turned on in her entire life, Luke still kissing right next to where she needs him the most, teasing the shit out of her. “So fucking pathetic, you didn’t even get our cocks yet and you’re still fucking dripping for us…so cock drunk you can’t even speak properly.” Luke settles down on the bed finally, placing her legs over his shoulders before kissing the inside of her thigh again. His blue eyes look up at Fleur, tears of frustration in her eyes and it has him concerned for a teeny tiny bit until she reaches her breaking point and blurts out: “Lick me Lu, pleaaaase.” He dives in immediately, like a starved man eating his first meal in a long time, devours her pussy. His hands hold her legs open and his tongue laps up all her juices, while she’s fisting the duvet behind her, arching her back in the most sinful way. Everything feels so fucking good right now and when she looks for just a second she sees Luke grinding against his sheets while he sucks on her little bundle of nerves. On top of that, he fucking moans against her, the vibrations making her let out a loud scream.
She’s close already, can feel her second orgasm of the night creeping up somewhere deep inside of her. Absentmindedly, her hands tangle in Luke’s hair and give it a hard thug and she expected everything but the fucking whimper that came out of his mouth, telling her, without any words, to do it again and again and again… so she does, fisting his hair and rocking her hips against him while he sucks on her clit, so hard it has stars dancing in front of her eyes. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” He licks her through her orgasm, moaning loudly as well. He doesn’t stop until she’s whining, crying and shaking for him to stop. Kells is still sitting behind them, hand in Fleurs hair while he strokes himself lazily.
She’s coming down slowly, breathing heavily and looking for the two men in the room with her. “How do you want us?” Kells asks, suddenly next to her. Fleur is dizzy, needy and aching to finally be filled. Trying to articulate a sentence, to let both of them know that they could do whatever the fuck they want to her as long as their hands don’t leave her sweaty hot skin, she fails miserably. The only thought prominent on her mind right now being her idol and her best friends using her body in downright filthy ways, at the same time, in whichever way they choose. Soft lips close in on her nipple, the sudden cold wetness a contrast to her hot skin. With her eyes slowly opening, Fleur notices Luke to her right, his fingers stroking his rock hard cock while Kells on her left side is desperately trying to draw her attention back to him by digging his hands into her side, grabbing her hard as he sucks on her most sensitive spot.
“Poor baby, look fucked she is Luke.. maybe we should just leave. Think we’ve been super generous today, haven’t we? Two orgasms should be plenty.” His tone suggests that Colson does not plan on being anywhere near done with his new prized possession, Fleur however, in her fucked out state, does not seem too okay with the possibility of not getting what she was singing up for all along. “Nooo, please sir.” Her voice comes out raspy, an aftermath of swallowing down Luke’s dick not too long ago. A quiet “need more” follows right after, hands reaching out to Kells and Luke on either side of her. The two singers immediately make eye contact as a soft chuckle forms on the younger one's lips. “Aren’t you a little selfish, baby?” His usually honeysweet voice seems to be dripping with evil intentions. “You only take, take, take… look at Kells. Have you touched him at all tonight, huh? Bet he’s been dying to stuff you with his cock all night and you have just given him zero attention.” Knowing looks are being exchanged between the two males, as if they have done this sort of thing a million times before. “Honestly Luke, why am I even asking? Pretty sure Fleur is gonna be a good little slut for us and take us however we want her.”
It’s dark in the room, however the rapper does not miss the shiver that runs through Fleur’s body at his words. He waits for a signal, anything to let him know he was wrong about his assumption and nothing follows except the quietest moan… he’s done for. Crashing his lips onto hers like it’s the last thing he would ever fucking do in his life, Colson takes control again, pressing Fleurs tiny body deeper into the mattress. The little whispers between the two men go unnoticed by her, so does Luke grabbing certain objects from his nightstand. “Look at me.” She watches Kells rip open a condom with his teeth before taking a first closer look at his massive dick resting between her thighs, the last bit of dominance that was still within her slowly withering away. What the fuck did she get herself into here? “I can’t wait to fuck that tight little pussy, ruin it for everyone but us.” “Next time you even think about going over to Matt’s house, I bet you’ll only be thinking about this. Will just get disappointed by everyone but us, will forever think about this-” Luke drags the last word out with his hands around her throat. Him bringing up the hookup with one of their mutual friends stings and she is about to say something before catching herself again. She is at their mercy and scolding her best friend right now when he has been nothing but an angel to her all night does not seem fair to her, not even in the headspace she is in right now.
Not with the stickiness of her two previous orgasms and her momenteral arousal slicking up her thighs and sore entrance. Contracting her pussy around the cool air in Luke’s room, she would not dare disobey any of them right now, just needing to be filled. Having waited so long for the past hour, she closes her eyes in anticipation, goosebumps decorating her brown skin. “Babydoll, look at daddy when he stuffs you with his cock,” Luke whispers, hand slowly stroking his dick and watching the scenario in front of him play out. His other hand holds Fleurs head up, wrapped around her throat so the woman can easily watch as the second man in the room pushes forward, engulfing himself in her wet heat.
The moan that leaves her lips is straight-up pornographic- loud, needy and echoing around the room. So erotic that Kells loses himself in it, the sound going straight to his aching dick that is being gripped by Fleurs tight cunt like a viper grabs her victim. Ready to devour him and so deliciously full of him, none of them notice they are holding their breath until he breathes out “Holy shit, god. You feel so fucking tight.” Gushing around him it’s like he can feel her heartbeat even through the condom as he gives his first thrust deep into her. “That’s it, baby. Taking him so well,” Luke whispers into her ear, simultaneously wiping the tears that run down her cheek away. Fleur feels so positively full with Kells’ head bumping directly into her cervix and giving her that sweet sting she knew she’d feel as soon as she laid eyes on him. She can’t control the tears of pleasure that stream from her eyes as he sets a brutal pace while Luke holds her fragile body in place. It feels as if there are hands all over her body, touching her, feeling her, pleasuring her.
She’s floating somewhere up there, she’s sure of it as Colson suddenly stills all the way inside of her to catch his breath, dick throbbing. Her legs wrapped around his waist shake, pulling him in closer. She doesn’t mean to, never ever, but with everything going on right in front of her she doesn’t realize Luke leaves his spot. Doesn’t realize he hands Colson the bottle of lube, who slowly pulls out of her. “Ride me, angel.” Luke demands from next to her, laying down on his mattress. “Yes sir.” Fleur replies, just needing that feeling of being full again. Her entire body aches from the previous orgasms, her thighs burning as she swings her leg over Luke’s muscular thighs, straddling him quickly. “Keep calling me sir and we might just fill up that pretty little pussy, darling.” An involuntary moan slips past her lips at the thought, her wet lips slowly sliding over Luke’s erection that pressed up against his stomach. He hisses and throws his head back the same moment Kells gathers Fleurs hair in a makeshift ponytail and pulls on it- enough to make it sting and inevitably enough to get her attention. “You better stop teasing right fucking now and sit on his dick, do you understand me?”
Luke’s hands dig into her hips, making sure to leave marks that will be visible to anyone that tries to touch their little brat for the next few days. The thought makes his heart race, both in anticipation and anxiety… remains of him, her best fucking friend, and Colson being on her body as another guy enjoys her the way they are doing right now. All his senses are on high alert, skin feeling on fire as Fleur positions him against her entrance and slowly sinks down on his cock, juices coating him and pooling around his base. In his fucked out state he just now realizes he never thought of grabbing a condom and he wants to say something, it’s a thought slowly making its way from the back of his mind to the front, threatening to spill past his lips until-
“Fuck Luke…” It’s not the pet name she’s been using all night, it’s not for Kells’ enjoyment, it’s only meant for him as his dick pulses inside of her wet, warm cunt. His best friend gasps, hands tangling in the singers damp curls and it feels like heaven to him, so snug around him he can feel her fucking heartbeat against his dick. “M-Move, flower.” Colsons lips capture hers as she slowly starts moving, making sure to go all the way up until he almost slips out, teasing him, before sliding back down on his thick erection. All those years of them being friends and she just now asks herself why the hell they haven’t done this sooner? When he looks so ethereal below her. The curls, the full, plump lips of his, everything about him screaming angelic. Whereas the man next to her with his fully tattooed body and mean demeanor gets her off just the same, his hand now grabbing her neck as he settles in behind her. The pace she settles for is slow, almost torture for the blonde on the bottom who just feels like he needs more. More of her wetness coating his dick, more of the moans she tries to stifle everytime he’s deep inside her. The good friend act, the fucking soft act he’s kept up all evening is wearing thin but what finally pushes him over the edge is when she chuckles, almost fucking laughs at him shuddering when she lets his dick almost slip out and the cool air hits his sensitive tip.
Her face is buried in his neck, not being able to read his facial expression. Colson however grins to himself, visibly noticing Luke’s whole demeanor change. In one swift motion, Luke pulls Fleur down until she’s flush against him, his dick pressing hard against her cervix. A loud moan echoes through the room, thighs trembling against him. She tries to move away from him, her best friend being too fucking deep inside of her but both Luke and Colson are keeping her in place. “I’ve fucking had it with you. If you wanna act like a brat I will fuck you like one.” “You’re too nice for that.” And she almost instantly regrets it the moment the six words leave her mouth. Based on the expression on Luke’s face she knew he wasn’t playing from the beginning but now she’s really in for it and she’s almost positive Colson and Luke will both ensure she afeels pleasure like she’s never felt it before.
“See, babygirl. We were gonna be nice, you know…” Luke’s voice is dangerously calm and it has her on edge. She opens her mouth to say something but just the shake of his head makes her decide against it. And suddenly she hates how obedient she is in his lap, dick still filling her to the brim. He sits up, face now inches away from hers and she can make out his darkened eyes. You could hear a pin drop in the room right now, the atmosphere tense. One sound, a cap being popped open behind her makes her aware of the other person in the room being much closer than she thought he was, wanting to turn around but Luke captures her face with his right hand. “Eyes on me.” A whine builds up in her throat, her hips slowly grinding against him because it’s painful how wet and desperate she is at this point. She wishes Luke would just fuck her, do something, anything and she wishes Colson would let her suck his dick while Luke pounds into her. “We were gonna be nice and take you one at a time. Didn’t want you to feel overwhelmed… but baby, tell me. What’s the point of having two dicks in the same room as you if you don’t have both of them inside of you at the same time?”
It’s like her heart skips a beat as her mind drifts to places she’s never explored before. She wants to tell him no, that’s too much. She could barely handle Colson abusing her little pussy, how was she supposed to take both of them at the same time? But Fleur looks at Luke and behind his hard expression his eyes soften a little. He’s her best friend who has known her for years. Why would he do anything to her he knew she couldn’t handle? Luke’s got some dark thoughts that he plans on executing within the next hour but he’s not a monster, far from it actually. Meanwhile Colson settles in behind her, softly kissing her neck all the way from her ear down to her shoulders as his hot breath fans over her skin. His tattooed arm wraps around her and grabs her left boob, teeth slightly sinking into her collarbone. If it wasn’t for this short distraction she surely would have noticed his head nudging her hole, about to press in, right next to Luke’s dick already inside of her. He hisses next to her ear, a guttural groan following immediately after once he pushes in, her pussy impossibly tighter this time. “O-oh my ffuuu-“ It dies in her throat, not that she could have said more anyways as Luke pulls his best friend down, kissing her passionately and pulling her flush against his chest so it’s easier for Colson to reach deeper.
He’s nestled right in there, stilling for a second before Luke pushes up, hands holding Fleur in place by her ass so he can move alongside his new, tall friend. “Holy fucking shit, that feels good,” Kells breathes out quietly. “Isn’t that little pussy squeezing us so tight, Luke?” He sounds completely fucked, his head pressing right against that spot that has their girl of the night seeing stars. She can’t think straight, pain and pleasure overtaking every other sensation she could be feeling that very moment. But Luke is holding her so tight and whispering sweet nothings in her ear, kissing her head and pushing her hair to the side so it would not interfere with her breathing. “Best one I ever had, Kells. Such a good little whore for us, aren’t you baby?” It’s more like a rhetorical question since he knows his best friend is too far gone to answer with anything but a lewd moan anyways. One hand presses down on her stomach, almost making her cum right then and there. They establish a diabolic rhythm, one of them pulling back while the other drives themselves deeper and deeper into her dripping cunt over and over again. It’s excruciating and Fleur feels like she’s on fire, her orgasm building and building as she’s being fucked at a slow pace but with determination from both of them. It’s like their hands are all over her and she probably couldn’t tell which ones belong to who, just that someone feels her shake and sob against the younger ones chest and decides to rub the swollen bud between her legs, dripping wet. Right where she wanted it the most this entire time. “Gonna cum on our cocks, huh? Doesn’t it feel so fucking good to actually be properly fucked?” It’s like Luke can’t control what he says, his best friends pussy and Colson rubbing against him making it way harder not to cum on the spot. But he needs to hold on, desperately needs to see the look on her face when she cums first. “Y-yes sir.. yes daddy.. please please l-let me.” Fleur whimpers, so fucking close and just waiting for their permission to tip right over the edge. A harsh smack being delivered to her left asscheek by Colson is exactly what does it in combination with their dicks hitting her cervix once again, his thumb still rubbing circles over her and Luke stilling inside of her, digging her nails into her waist.
Her pussy pulsing and squeezing him is almost enough for him to shoot his load into her, and a lot of it. Calming himself down, he breathes in and out heavily, trying so hard not to think about the way her eyes squeeze shut and- wetness coating his thighs? A dark chuckle follows from behind, followed by Colson pulling out of her slowly, his dick still rock hard. “Did you just fucking squirt on us baby? Made a proper mess on Luke’s damn bed, didn’t you?” Luke lifts her up gently, sliding out of her- much to her dismay which she lets him know with a quiet whine, suddenly feeling so empty. “I’m sorry bro, but I need to taste her.. am dying to stuff my face in that cunt and taste how fucking sweet she is.” Colson lets them know, more directed at Luke than Fleur. “No, I c-can’t… sens-sensitive.” She tries to argue but to no avail, Colson’s mind is made up. “Shhh princess, Kells just wants a little taste.” He turns her around on him, her backside now against his chest while the rapper kneels down between both their legs. The moment his tongue comes in contact with her clit she’s thrashing around on top of him, trying to get away from the tall man who has his face buried in her pussy, lapping up her juices. Luke holds her in place, kisses her head and inhales the scent of her freshly washed hair while watching the scenario in front of him unfold. While he is glad for this little distraction to recover for a minute or two, his dick is still painfully hard and throbbing, Fleurs ass moving against it not making it much better.
Stars dance in front of her eyes as the woman tries to control her breathing, too overwhelmed with Colson sucking and moaning against her. “If you don’t stop fucking moving, Luke and I will coax another five orgasms out of you, I don’t give a damn if that means we’ll be here all fucking night.” His tone is mean, demanding and almost threatening. “If I wanna taste our pussy, you will let me.” With that he is back to devouring her, nails digging into her soft thighs and leaving marks behind. What scares her the most is not another orgasm, it’s the fact that the orgasm is being delivered by no one other than her favorite singer who already made her explode on his dick before. And if she does that again in his face, she might as well just dig her own grave. Little does Fleur know that is just what he has been trying to achieve all along, fingers slipping inside of her and expertly finding her sweet spot. Her soft cries of overstimulation mix with the wet slurping sounds of his mouth, sucking and licking all over her. “Can feel you squeezing my finger, you wanna make a mess all over daddy again?” He speaks, breath fanning over her oh so sensitive clit. “N-no Ke-Kells, I-” Instantly a quick slap is being delivered to her thigh, the sting traveling up to her already sensitive pussy. “That’s not my name. Try again.” And she is so close, the muscles in her lower abdomen contracting as she grinds against Kells’ face, just wanting that one final push that he delivers with his mouth closing around her most sensitive area and his ring- and middle finger curling inside her. “Daddy!” It hits Fleur like a train, ears ringing, muscles spasming and liquid gushing out of her once again. Over the bed, over his fingers, over Luke, over Kells’ face. Helping her ride out her orgasm, the older man of the two kisses her thighs softly, rubbing the rest of her arousal all over pussy
“I know you’re so sensitive right now baby, I get it. But I think Kells and I really really wanna fill you up. Gonna let us use that pretty cunt one last time? Been dying to cum in you.” Hazy eyes stare up at him and even though it feels hard for her to move, four orgasms really taking a toll on the poor girl, she nods. That’s what she has been fantasizing about all night, since Luke walked into the room to discard his wine stained shirt, leaving all his girls and the few girls lusting over him out in his living room. “Need to hear you say it, lovie.” He’s gentle this time. His tip, covered in precum, nudging against her opening and just waiting for her verbal confirmation. “Need you Lu… need you Kells.” It’s barely a whisper but Luke lets it slide, coating himself in her arousal once more before pushing in from below her, Fleurs back still against his chest.
Kells wraps his hand around her neck, gently now, making her watch his long, hard dick sliding into her for the last time that night. He comes to think that she looks so tiny like this, sandwiched between the two skinny 6’3 tall men, the thought alone bringing him close to filling her up like he’s been wanting to for hours. It does not help that he can see their outlines, a slight bulge in her lower belly from the two cocks stretching her out. He thinks he’s done for, losing the rhythm he settled in with Luke, breathing quickening. “Gonna fuck that cum so deep into you.” He growls, tightening his hold on her neck. Fleur tries to reply, tries to focus on the pleasure of him still being inside of her but nothing is working anymore. Everything hurts in a good way and she knows that there is no way she’s going back out to that party later. She knows that this time they really can’t force another orgasm out of her fragile body, not that she needs it. Fleur just needs to feel their cum inside of her, dripping out of her, the soreness for the next few days, all of it. Even Luke is barely holding on by a thread, stilling inside of her and just letting his coworker push in past him, rubbing so deliciously against both of them. “Holy shit. Gonna put our babies inside of you, baby, yeah? You want that?” Luke has no idea what came over him but it seems to be affecting her when she clenches around them and lets out a pornographic moan.
Luke cums first, having edged himself all night, and coats her walls with spurts of cum, seemingly never ending. The whine that leaves his mouth is downright sinful and so so hot to her ears as it mixes with Colsons sounds of pleasure. “Fuck fuck fuck” He breathes out loudly, releasing right after and burying himself in her to the hilt. Thick ribbons of cum fill up her vagina, an evidence of both of them actually being there… an evidence that she actually just fucked her idol and best friend at the same time. For a short period of time she registers nothing until a warm, wet cloth brings her back to reality, both of them kneeling down between her thighs and staring at her with a worried expression. “There you are love… did so well for us. Took us like a champ, we’re so proud of you.” Luke presses a soft kiss to her nose as the other man wipes off the residue of them from her thighs. “Gonna kick everyone out,” he mumbles, more to Kells than to her. “You staying with her?” It’s supposed to be a question but the way he words it leaves no option for no.
The second Luke puts on his pants and a fresh shirt, Colson pulls the blanket over her naked frame, letting her cuddle into his side.
“Sleep. We’ll be there when you wake up.”
191 notes
·
View notes
Text
Really have been in such a bad funk lately so fuck it, here is a list of things about Twisters that I love in no particular order:
that scene where Tyler and Kate are explaining how a tornado forms and the scene cuts between the two of them so it’s like a seamless line of dialogue/they are so in sync each other. Taking about weather with the same reverence that’s soulmatism.
“Ohkay uniform. Wrinkle free shirt. Crisp hat!”
That the wranglers and storm par crew cross paths so often they know each others names enough to rib at each other (and wranglers having the time of their lives competing against them)
When that one storm par guy yells “chase it!” because he’s secretly a Tyler Owen’s fan
Tyler’s truck driving across a field towards the first tornado looking like a cross between Mater from Cars and a horse galloping like yeehaw “it’s like the Wild West out here!” They saw the opportunity and they took it
That his truck is red!!!! And I know people are tempted to be like “he inherited Bill’s truck” but let’s not forget Bill’s truck got eaten by an EF5 and I don’t think it made it out like Tyler’s did
KATE’S BARRELS (never not over KATES’S BARRELS)
I wanna know more about Dani and Dexter’s friendship. Dexter being all “there’s a name for that there’s a name for that” and Dani’s like “just enjoy it, man!” I just know they balance each other out
“We’re driving into a tornado for gods sakes”
The way Tyler is immediately smitten and recognises how smart Kate is and like that’s why he likes her so much?? Like yeah she’s pretty but she’s pretty BRILLIANT You can tell he’s just like “wow I have met my match”
Kate giving it back to him and not falling for his charm so easily - there’s a fire/cheekiness in there
When Tyler’s heart of gold/the real Tyler starts to show away from the cameras and it’s just Kate and Tyler testing Kate’s theories but Tyler is still 100% himself like his persona is not all bravado he still wants to send things up in rockets and drive into tornadoes like that’s just who he is and when it’s away from the cameras it’s kind of dorky dude
Frankenstein playing in the cinema in El Reno and Doctor Frankenstein yelling “it’s alive!” Right before the wall of the cinema is ripped off
Also while I’m on that, that the wall that gets ripped away is the wall with the screen, making the storm outside in some sense the movie wow I just thought about that. Art imitating life or whatever the ultimate 4D experience (reminds me of sound and light shows ok I’m digressing)
“She’s your story, Ben.”
Hanging out and sitting on the truck having lunch and staring at clouds I need 1000x fics about this
When they rustle the team together to get Kate’s theories in motion with the whole team and everyone is immediately on board and defers to Kate as to why they need a trailer ect
Addy: “you’re no fun since you got hit by lightning” I WANT THE STORY
The Tornado Wrangler belt buckle 😭
Ok this list is getting long but anyway the movie isn’t perfect but it’s fun and I’m glad it makes me happy in this way
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
Herbert West Was Dead To Begin With (or, why Danbert was always doomed by the original narrative, pt. 1)
Thanks to this post by @gabelish, my brain went in about twenty directions. I have to talk about this or I'm going to end up chewing on my walls, and that's bad for my teeth.
Reading the script of BRIDE, it's... messy. Disorganized. You can tell they pounded this thing out in a month and didn't really have time to revise or edit. What's interesting is seeing the vague shape of a theme despite the rush-job--to get cheeky, it's a bunch of disparate parts that don't quite move in sync. A Bride of an idea that almost, but never quite does, manifest. Especially considering one or two lines that were cut which, it turns out, were integral to understanding that theme.
Let's go over it all, shall we?
Francesca's immediate appeal to Dan feels like a weird choice on the part of the filmmakers. It's asking us to care about a brand-new character without giving us much reason to do so, other than "she's a woman and she's available to the protagonist". This is a big ask in Part 2 of a franchise which, as we witnessed with the collapse of Part 3, relies entirely on the chemistry between the two already-established lead actors. The most boring parts of BRIDE are when Francesca's investigating the Sefton Ward, because neither of the dudes we're here to see are onscreen for a long time, and…
And, well, we'll have to have a big talk about Inherent Value and misogyny/queerphobia/transphobia in Re-Animator, but that'll be for Part 2.
So what's the deal with Francesca? Why is she even here? Is she just there to drive a wedge between Herbert and Dan?
Well, yes. But in addition to being an object kicked between the two leads as needed, she is also an object for the writers' thematic purposes. This purpose is revealed in what Dan says in the infamous scene where they have sex: "So soft... so warm..."
It's the warmth Dan craves, because that is associated with Life.
Francesca is Life. She's associated with food, the real substance of Life--which Herbert rejects. The script even specifies that Dan and Herbert's kitchen should look like it was never used... as though there's no life in it. Fran brings Life to it by preparing food in it. She's also associated with Angel, the dog, who generally senses--not Evil, per se, but the Dead. Angel reacts positively to Fran and to Dan. And Angel tries to attack every reanimate she meets--as well as Herbert.
Dan values and believes in Life. He is seduced by Herbert's quest because he wants to believe that reanimated beings are Alive. But let's be real, he doesn't believe reanimates are Alive. He agrees with Dr. Hill's assertion that reagent "gives the dead the appearance of life". He asserts that Halsey is dead post-reanimation, because, obviously, he doesn't see Halsey as Alive. Later, he perceives the Bride as being a collection of dead human body parts until She's reanimated. At that point, all the stress seems to convince him that she is Alive... until Herbert emphasizes that the Bride is his creation, a being glued together with reagent.
Who, therefore, cannot have Life.
Dan rejects the Bride because he wants Life, someone who is Alive. She's not. This is also why part of his rejection involves him declaring that Meg is dead. The thing that kept Dan on board with the Bride Project was imagining that he was bringing Meg back to Life. Stating that Meg is dead is acknowledging that reagent cannot create Life, so far as Dan's concerned.
Meg's heart is, to me, another symbol. Dan wants it to represent Life, but as the final shot emphasizes, it represents Death. It only had the appearance of Life so long as Dan believed in its validity as a source of Life. Notice that he says "You're not Meg!" in response to the Bride offering him Meg's heart, because it isn't the heart he wanted, only what it stood for. Once he stops clapping his hands and believing, the heart stops beating... and is left in the embalming room, with all the other Dead Things.
They cut several lines where Dan repeatedly referred to Gloria as "Meg". This gives Dan's desires specificity. Dan spends all of BRIDE wanting Meg to Live. That is his central trauma, the source of all his fuckery: he misses Meg and he wants her back. He almost fools himself into thinking she's alive again, then accepts that she's not.
The next best person to escape with, then, would be someone who is Alive.
This is what Francesca gives him.
In the script, Dan resuscitates Francesca successfully once they escape the tomb. He joyfully declares "You're alive!". THAT is what Dan wanted. Life. Someone soft and warm.
To Herbert, though, reanimated life IS Life. He perceives no magical or spiritual dimension to Life the way Dan's implied to (and the narrator of the original stories did). His inability to convince Dan to see things his way is a big part of his downfall in BRIDE, but it also points to a really brutal tragedy underlying the whole plot:
If we take the Integral Cut as canon, and it likely is, then Herbert isn't Alive by Dan's standards, and hasn't been this entire time.
He shoots up reagent. This is in stark contrast, by the way, with the original stories, where Lovecraft emphasized that reagent did nothing whatsoever to living tissue. This is--symbolically, again, I'm not making diagetic claims here--a not-so-subtle declaration that Herbert is Dead. Corpses and body parts get the reagent because they are not a part of Life. And since Herbert gets the reagent, well...
Anything that comes from Herbert cannot be Life. It can only be "the appearance of life". This is why the food Herbert makes looks fake and wrong and is described as "awkwardly made" in the script, unlike Francesca's perfect sauce... Food is Life. Herbert is Dead.
The script of BRIDE suggests that Herbert repeating Dan's "So soft, so warm" line is manipulation, but it sure doesn't come across that way--it comes across as abject begging for Dan to see some kind of value in the Bride Project, and thereby, in him. When the Bride tries to win Dan back over by repeating "You made me!", Herbert, sounding furious, snaps "I made you!". He thematically links himself with Her because she's the big project that will make Dan love only him the Work. He reinforces the theme that he is Dead, or Death.
The way that Herbert gigafucks himself is when he senses that Dan's about to reject the Bride (Death) in favor of Francesca (Life), and Herbert... accidentally confirms this dichotomy with "Forget it, Dan, she's just dead tissue!" That is exactly what Dan didn't want. Herbert objectifies the Bride--but not into just any object. She is turned into a disposable object, a thing they can throw away in a medical biohazard bin. Because she's Dead.
He's trying one last Hail Mary to win Dan back, but their fundamental disagreement on the very nature of Life and Death means Herbert can't even understand how to do it.
Relatedly, Herbert is heavily associated with Dead Places. He is introduced to Dan in the sonofabitchin' morgue and spends almost half his scenes in same. His personal room in Dan's house is Spartan, because Living people need luxury and personal items, and Herbert's... not. He spends most of the rest of his time in the basement--underground, like a grave, get it, hahaha. In BRIDE, we never see his bedroom. Instead, he spends most of his time in the basement/embalming room/secret laboratory which is also underground, and which is interconnected with a tomb in the graveyard. A tomb Herbert willingly tunnels into and accesses regularly, which is totally normal Living behavior and not that of a ghoul...
... and, in the end, he is dragged off into that tomb, and he does not escape. Because he belongs there.
He is Dead (which is why, by applying queer theory, we all think that he's queer and/or trans, about which more in Part 2). Herbert's hard and cold, not soft and warm. He has only the appearance of Life. Everything he creates is Dead.
In the script, when Francesca and Dan meet in Peru, they talk about the cruelty of war, and she says the following: "When the state makes people's lives unnatural, it creates monsters." This is called back when she finds out that Herbert's built Hand Dog out of Angel. She calls Dan a "freak", and accuses him of acting like he's saving people when he's "creating monsters". Because he is behaving like Herbert, he's a freak. A monster. Someone who thinks he's creating Life when he's actually reveling in Death.
Hell, the script describes the reanimate rejects that kill Herbert as "the fruit of his scientific womb", deliberately mocking Herbert's notions that he's creating Life, and also causing me physical pain as a trans dude.
The more I've gone over this theme (in the service of my long-ass fix-it fic), the more it feels like Dan and Herbert were always doomed by the original narrative thanks to this specific, fundamental difference between them. The only way they'd be able to get along long-term again after BRIDE is if one of them changed fundamentally as a person, and not only would neither of them do that, it'd make their dynamic less interesting and engaging to watch. (I mean, shit, I've had to introduce Lovecraftian Great Old Ones to help those two buttheads understand they have a common enemy.)
But yeah. Sorry to say it. Herbert's Dead. That's what made it so easy for Dan to abandon him. Herbert could cut out his own heart and replace it with Meg's. It would not have made any difference. There is nothing, nothing at all, he could have done, not once Dan realized that reagent cannot give Real Life--that it can't bring Meg back to him.
It was always going to end this way. With Herbert lost among the Dead. With Dan fleeing for Life and normalcy.
But that's what fandom's for, fixing all of that... right?
#reanimator#re animator 1985#bride of re animator#bride of reanimator 1991#herbert west#dan cain#danbert#fandom meta#i live for analysis#nothingenough speaks
80 notes
·
View notes
Text
"I won't hurt you, love" - San
Pairing: San X Reader
Genre: Smut
Warnings: 18+, Smut, Masturbation, Oral, Orgasm, Dirty words, Porn, Dominance, Roommate
Summary: The annoying roommate starts masturbating in the next room, instead of going to shut him up you get horny yourself and before you think you're lying under him on the bed.
Word Count: ~2.6K
________________________________
I passed him without even deigning to look at him and left the kitchen, behind me I heard only a snort of laughter so I pushed the door so that it closed with a loud crash. San was annoying on his own but when we were arguing it was even worse. He acted mean and arrogant, looking down on me with such confidence as if he were at least a king who was catcalling his enemy.
I was so pissed off at him that I couldn't get to sleep so I turned on a movie which I played quietly hoping that it would make me fall asleep. Unfortunately, the movie turned out to be quite strong erotic so now instead of falling asleep, I tried to calm my mind and... my pussy.
Halfway through the movie I began to hear quiet moans. At first I was sure it was in the movie, but when the scenes turned into a regular meeting of friends and I continued to hear someone's voice I was strongly surprised. I eavesdropped on where it could be coming from, but when I couldn't match from which corner of the room the sounds were coming I stopped the movie and then in a flash I understood.
San.
It was San's moans. My heart literally stopped and I didn't even notice for how long I held my breath until I started to choke. Fucking Choi San had just moaned in the next room where we were literally separated only by the wall by which our beds stood. I didn't know what to do, whether I should say something, hit the wall or go to him.
For a while I tried not to pay attention, but it became increasingly difficult when his moans became louder and louder. Or it was me who began to focus on them when I started to feel a gentle tingling in my pussy.
I hit the headrest of the bed with the back of my head to drive away all my thoughts of him. But honestly, I was damn curious what he looked like now. Was he sitting on the bed or maybe lying down. Whether he was in clothes or all naked. Whether he was doing it with his hand, a toy or maybe rubbing himself against a pillow, for example.
At this thought, my hips began to move of their own accord and my increasingly aching pussy sought some sort of rubbing. My hand traveled along my body, from my breasts to my belly and pussy. I ran two circles over my clit and, horrified, quickly took it away when it occurred to me what I was doing.
I never would have thought that I would be masturbating to moans and imagining San right behind the wall. After a moment's thought, I decided that I was indulging in too much and started slapping my hand against the wall. Unfortunately it was to no avail, I thought maybe he didn't hear so I got up and left the room heading for his door.
For a moment I hesitated between knocking and shouting but decided to hit it. And that was a big mistake. I didn't notice that they were ajar so that when I hit them the door opened wide and in front of me appeared San lying on the bed in just a T-shirt. His hand was on his member which he was pumping at a steady pace, his eyes firmly closed and his mouth wide open. I stood there and looked at him in shock and... excitement. And finally, as if sensing my presence, he looked at the door and, seeing me there, momentarily covered himself with a pillow. But he began to smile.
"Did you have to come?" he asked in a pretentious voice.
"Well I'm sorry but you're drowning out the movie with your moans." How very beautiful....
"So what?" he raised one eyebrow.
"So what? Dude, you're literally jerking off right next to me and moaning like you're alone in this house."
"Next to you? I don't think so," again that arrogant voice with an arrogant look. I rolled my eyes.
"Yes, we are only separated by a wall of a few centimeters" he did not answer just looked at me. Serious at first but in time a smirk appeared on his face. I raised my eyebrow in a questioning gesture to which he responded
"You can stay with me. Instead of watching porn you can have fun by yourself."
"Excuse me? I don't watch porn, what the fuck."
"We are separated by a wall of a few centimeters through which you can hear everything. Tell me, don't you feel like doing anything? Don't you feel like having fun?" the truth was that I had a great desire. Especially now that I had an image in my head of him with his hand on my cock and now that I could see him in front of me and could only guess at the way his cock pulsed under the pillow.
"Certainly not with you."
"You thought too long for an answer" he laughed and began to slowly move the pillow aside looking at it and glancing at me. "Come on, nothing will happen to you"
I felt like throwing my fists at him and at the same time throwing myself at him to put his cock in my mouth. I swallowed my saliva hard and glanced at his hardness, he must have noticed it because he smiled.
"Come on. We both know perfectly well that you want this. We know perfectly well that we wanted it a long time ago," he squinted his eyes as was his habit and caught the base in his hand. He licked his lips and looked at my breasts which were clad only in a thin white crop top through which I was sure my nipples were showing through.
For a long moment I stood still like that, wondering what I should do until I forced myself and took a step forward that I immediately regretted. But now it was too late. My legs were leading me to him by themselves.
San grinned and moved a little to the side as I sat shyly on the side of the bed. He moved his other hand over mine and caught the fingers of my hand to draw me closer to him. I sat closer to him crossing my legs and couldn't stop looking at his cock, I really wanted to touch it but was afraid to. He put his hand on my side and moved the other from his cock to my cheek.
"Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you, love" Love - his nickname whenever he became cocky around me or when he specifically wanted to piss me off even more when we argued. But now it sounded different to me, hearing it made me feel butterflies in my stomach. It was something between adorable and sexy "love". I looked at him, unsure of what to do.
"Cutely" he tilted his head gently to the side and smiled. With his index finger, he touched my left nipple, which I thought was showing through from under the white fabric. He gently lifted the crop top so that it hung over my boobs exposing them. He caught my nipple between two fingers and squeezed quite hard, again tilting head to the side. He lifted his gaze to my face, probably wanting to see my reaction, and moved closer to me.
He licked the same nipple also quite hard, lapping his tongue, and straightened his back. He raised his head gently and steamed at me from above, I felt small next to him. Like a cat next to a lion or a puppy next to a wolf. Although he hadn't done anything like that yet I could feel what dominance he had over me. I was a little scared but I would be lying if I said I didn't like it.
I took a deep breath in as he moved closer to me again, this time taking my right nipple in his mouth immediately sucking it quite hard. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back but a second later I felt his hand on the back of my head and he forced my head down.
I looked at him when he moved away from my boobs but then he immediately moved closer to my lips. He didn't kiss me, he just kept his lips close to mine. So close that I could feel his deep but calm breathing and his nose rubbed against my cheek. I had the urge to kiss him and was almost about to do so when he suddenly pulled away from me.
"Take off it" he pointed at me with a nod literally giving the order. I was so excited that without thinking I reached for the end of my T-shirt and pulled it up, but I did it slowly because fear did not allow me to move suddenly. Now I was sitting in front of him half naked in just my shorts.
I looked at him when he straightened his back again and leaned with his hands behind him, sitting down more comfortably. I wanted to see his muscular belly, I had seen it a million times when he went shirtless but now, now was a different situation.
He took my hand in his and directed it to his cock, placing it on it. Instinctively I tightened my hand on it at which he took a deep breath. I looked at his face as I slowly began to move my hand up and down. He brushed my hair away from my cheek and put it behind my ear. As I moved my hand faster and faster he tilted his head back and gasped heavily, every now and then letting out a barely audible moan.
Finally, he looked at me and with a slight, sexy, smile placed his hand on my cheek. He stroked a few times and moved it behind my head, to my neck.
"Put it in your mouth," he muttered while simultaneously pushing down on my head. When I leaned over him he grabbed my hair in a ponytail and, holding it tightly, directed how I should take his cock in my mouth. With his other hand he began to tease my ruddy nipples, which at the moment was so pleasurable that my throat left a single moan.
"You're taking me so well.... Suck harder. Fuck, that's exactly right. So good," he said every now and then, pulling my hair while moving my head up and down. With all my might, I tried not to choke or cough, but it was difficult when in addition to pushing my head down he was pushing his hips up. This was also the case now, he held my head with two hands and entered my mouth. He was fucking my throat and didn't mind how much I was choking on his length.
He looked again as before when I unexpectedly entered his room, head tilted back, eyes closed and mouth open as he moaned louder and louder. His moans and dirty words were so arousing to me that I couldn't stand it any longer. I could feel how wet I was and how sore my pussy was.
"Fuck I'm about to come," he said in a low voice and pulled my hair upwards wanting to pull his dick out of me. He was panting loud and fast and kept his hands clenched on the quilt.
"Lie down," he commanded which I immediately did. He sat down between my legs and pulled my shorts off me in one motion. Still breathing quickly, he licked his lips and bent down to my pussy, holding my legs tightly, so tightly that I knew I would have bruise from it.
He spit saliva on my clit and started licking it like a hungry animal. Firmly, hard and fast. He sucked my clit and lips just as hard, pushing his tongue as deep as he could into my hole. He moved his head up, down and side to side, his tongue was so fast I could see stars.
At that moment I was one big mess. I squirmed on the bed, banged my head on the mattress beneath me and moaned so loudly that it wouldn't surprise me if tomorrow the neighbors complained that they couldn't sleep. But believe me, I can't sleep either.
"San, I'm close," I spoke up for the first time since I crossed the threshold of this room. He, unfortunately, at my words moved away from me. His whole chin, lips and nose were wet and he smirked.
Then he knelt between my thighs and applied his tip to my clit, rubbing and hitting it. Leaning over me, so low that our lips were again millimeters from each other, he moved his tip to my entrance. Sucking my lower lip he began to enter me. He entered me confidently and smoothly, firmly but gently enough that nothing hurt me. He didn't waste a second longer and immediately started moving his hips so that he entered me quite quickly. With every movement he made, his strokes got harder and harder until he hit me like this, until I shifted upward on the mattress with a scream.
"Turn around and get on your knees," in half a second I stood up and turned my back to him, sticking my ass out toward him. He gave a firm smack to my buttock and entered me hard, without warning.
I literally screamed, it was amazing in its own way. Something between pain and pleasure. I could safely say that I had never felt so good with anyone before as I did with San at that moment. His domination was so awesome sexy and arousing that my psyche could barely stand it. His firm movements, orders and dirty words were driving me to the edge.
He grabbed my hair and pulling me towards him arched my back, entering me from behind. His hips slammed into my buttocks so much that I felt a burning sensation on my skin. I felt him deep inside me like I had never felt anything before. I was almost certain that if you looked closely you could see a bulge on my belly every time he entered me. His thickness pushed me perfectly apart with each thrust.
We both started moaning louder and louder being in seventh heaven. We were both close to orgasm so San sped up his pace several times, earlier giving three spanks each with all his strength on my buttocks. With my eyes I could see his hand reflected on my buttocks.
With each passing moment his movements became more and more erratic, minimally slower but even more forceful. He pulled my hair so that I had to straighten my back to minimize the pain, but a moment later he pushed me down and, placing his hand on my neck, pressed me against the mattress until I could hardly breathe. He sat on my thighs still entering me, it was something between pushing and jumping on me.
This, however, was not enough for him, he climbed off of me and, in one violent movement, twisted me onto my back. He immediately put his hands on the back of my thighs and, pressing them against my belly, entered me. He now had such perfect access to my pussy that he didn't even need to help himself with his hand.
He moved his hips incredibly fast, I honestly didn't even know it was possible. I also wanted to do something, to touch him or whatever, but I wasn't able to. The only thing I could do was lie there and try not to moan so loudly, but even that didn't work for me. I was literally screaming and crying, tears were pouring down my cheeks, especially when the pleasure was so great that it was unbearable. I wanted him to stop but at the same time I didn't want it to end. Even more so when I felt my orgasm getting closer and closer, I felt my pussy getting even more sensitive and San hitting me harder and faster didn't help at all. On the contrary, it made it worse as I felt my body tighten up and I felt a huge sensation cumulating in my lower abdomen.
San's moans became louder and his pressure on my thighs became stronger. His fingers pounded into me pushing my legs into my torso until my hips ached from such a position. Once he was looking at me with the most intense gaze I had ever seen from him and once he was tilting his head back clenching his eyes tightly. I knew he was close himself but I couldn't stand it, I reached earlier than he did.
I came with a shout of his name, my whole body was shaking incredibly and I could feel even more juices flowing out of my pussy than before. The room was now filled with wet sounds as he slapped his hips against my now wet buttocks and pussy.
He didn't stay like that for long, a minute later he suddenly came out of me and, rubbing his cock with his hand so fast I was surprised it was even possible, leaned more over me. In a moment I felt his semen spreading over my belly, thighs and pussy, running down my buttocks onto the bed mattress. He squeezed his cock tightly while slowly rubs it, slapped it against my pussy a few times and spread more of his thick cum.
We were breathing loudly, fast and hard, San sat on the bed and watched me with a smile.
"Well, was it so scary?" he laughed lightly and rubbed his hand over his face.
"No. It was great," at my words he laughed again and wiped me with my T-shirt which he picked up from the floor. He threw it behind him again and lay down next to me on his back.
"Instead of watching porn you can come to me anytime" I rolled my eyes and punched him in the stomach.
"At least I was just watching and not masturbating and moaning."
"After all, I did it on purpose. So that you would come"
"I guessed as you put your cock in my mouth".
*
#kpop#kpop scenarios#kpop reactions#ateez smut#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez san#san smut#san ateez#ateez#atz smut#seonghwa#hongjoong#atz yunho#yeosang#choi san#atz mingi#wooyoung#jongho#san choi
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
*Holding my smut!logistics head despairingly in my angry little hands*
Ugh.
Okay.
Girls, guys, whomever: I've said it before and I'm going to say it again now, because I've read more logistically implausible fics in the last few days than I dare to count on my grumpy little claws. The writing may be smoking, but if you can't get the logistics of sex right then you are just going to make your readers go, "Eh, what?!"
You cannot deepthroat someone while breathing through your nose. You can't. Unless you have gills. If you're writing smut for fish then by all means continue to have your characters comfortably taking in oxygen whilst choking on a cock. Otherwise, stop it.
Throat-fucking is hot, HOTTT, but again. Breathing is not possible simultaneously. Please. This type of breath-play is sexy. Use it.
Have you ever tried to hollow your cheeks with a cock jammed down between your tonsils? No? That's right: you can't. Your characters are either using their tongue and cheeks or they are using their throat; I guarantee they can't do both at the same time. Also, having a man able to feel the outline of his cock through the cheek of his partner while they are going down on him: only possible if he is JABBING his fingers into his partner's cheek and forcing the flesh between their teeth, or fucking the head of their cock into their partner's cheek-flesh. Either way is really not going to be comfortable for the partner who is doing the work.
Having your characters stop kissing because they can't breathe is fucking stupid. Have you ever kissed a human? You have a NOSE (which in this instance is NOT being blocked by a cock). It is perfectly possible for two humans to mack on one another for hours at a time without having to come up for air. Drawn-out snogging is hot; have you ever kissed someone so much that lube/prep is not even needed? Trust me, it's awesome.
Limbs. LIMBS. Block your smut scene out in your head, for the love of God. I can't count the number of times that a writer has led me to believe that a pairing are facing one another on a bed, only to find in the next sentence that one is actually behind the other up against a wall; or they're laying down; or one is seated and the other standing.
Get your names and pronouns straight (heh heh...), with m/m or f/f fiction it's so easy as the reader to lose track of who is doing what if you're only referring to the characters as him/her. Don't be afraid to use names, it's better to be too clear than not clear enough.
If you don't have the first-hand experience yourself to write about certain sexual experiences then LOOK. IT. UP. I am neither male nor queer, yet I adore m/m explicit fic and I've done my goddamn research; it drives me up the wall when a writer puts their men into a position that does not warrant easy access to the prostate, but then go ahead and try to write the act as if it's as natural as breathing. My dude, if you're making me - a straight female - shake my head at the logistical inaccuracies of one hot man fucking another hot man, then just imagine the fits of hilarity that you're sending an actually gay man into, who attempts to read your work!
I would say I'm sorry for ranting, but I'm not. I've been reading fanfic for a very very long time and it makes my cold, dead heart so happy when writers get it right, and so sad when they get it wrong.
#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3#ao3 fanfic#archive of our own#fanfic writing#fanfic guidance#smut writing guide#smut writing#smut#charlos#carlando#firstprince#m/m fiction#f/f fanfic#lestappen#queer fiction#smut fiction#gay fiction#versainz#brocedes#rpf fanfiction
131 notes
·
View notes
Text
BEAUTIFUL artwork for Kiss Off by my beautiful friend Ashley!!! she's so talented and beautiful thank you SO MUCH for being a part of this @ash-yuh
Kiss Off
pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 5
Chapter 4
He left the bar first and set off down the road alone, getting to his car in a matter of minutes. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he needed to breathe again. Driving aimlessly for nearly twenty minutes he realized he was leaving the city, going to the only other place he knew: Munson Construction. The storm clouds in his head that had vanished at the bar returned on the drive. The roads were dark, but the air was clearer out here, and Steve couldn’t get enough of it. The wind wrecked his hair, whipping it around as he took deep breaths. Steve wondered if he should just book it to Hawkins and give up on all this. Wondered if he was ever really meant to leave his hometown. Wondered if he really messed up and should have just married that girl from high school.
Parking in that same red dirt parking lot, he didn’t ask himself what he was doing because there was no point. He was going to wait it out, stay out of Robin’s hair and give her no reason to worry. Getting out of his car, he headed towards the front to lean on the hood and look out into the surrounding woods that reminded him of home. Except you could see right through them to the street lights beyond the thin cluster of trees. If he was in Hawkins, he could have looked out on a number of lakes within a few miles. Perfectly hidden and perfectly alone. Even out here, he could still hear distant cars from the busy highways, pulling him out of his reveries.
Steve wished he had a pack of cigarettes. Smoking never really tempted Steve until moments like these, where he was alone, searching for some sense of peace. Pausing, he remembered the key to the clubhouse sitting in his pocket.
Maybe Eddie had some in his locker or office somewhere? Would it hurt to take just one?
Steve tossed his keys in the air, caught them, and thought once again, fuck it, they gave him a key anyway, right?
A single light illuminated the steps going up to the door, the screen door slamming against Steve’s back as he bent to unlock the deadbolt. Once inside, he felt along the wall for a light switch and failed.
In the dark, his outstretched arms led his way around to the lockers, trying to use what little light came from outside the doorway. The red hard hat was the second locker from the right if his memory served him correctly, so once his hands made contact with the wall of open shelves, he started to rummage. He felt a small, soft cardboard box in the back of the highest shelf, thought, yes, and fumbled to open it in the dark. Just one.
Steve heard a creak of the floor and his head snapped up, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark hallway beyond that led to Eddie’s office. Nothing but pitch black.
Suddenly, a yell rang out–no, more like a battle cry. The lights came on in a flash, giving Steve just enough time to register the baseball bat swinging for his head. He cowered down, covering his face with his arms as he shut his eyes tight, preparing for the blow.
When none came, Steve peaked out of one eye at the scene before him. There stood Eddie, in Garfield pajama pants, bat still raised high, and hair coming out of its bindings–a look of utter confusion cast upon his face.
“Whoa, dude, what the fuck?” Steve exclaimed once he’d found his voice. Is this guy going to kill me?
“Me, what the fuck? No, you, what the fuck?!” Eddie retorted, not moving to lower the bat. He looked from Steve’s face to his hands where he still clung to the pack of smokes. “Did you come all the way out here for those? I could have told you where to get your own. Jesus fucking Christ.”
“No, Eddie, God, I was just–” Steve realized he didn’t have a good explanation for this situation other than the truth. “Look, my roommate needed me out of the apartment for a bit, I was just driving around, looking for somewhere to go and I ended up here.” He shrugged. “And I wanted something to do. What are you doing here?” Steve was pointedly not looking at Eddie’s silly pajama pants. The last thing he needed was to be punched by his boss for laughing at his sleepwear.
“Shit, well, no fucking point now,” Eddie sighed and rested the bat on his shoulder. “I live here, asshole.”
Steve didn’t know what to say to that, so he picked the first question that popped into his head. “Oh. So… do you normally go to sleep at 10:30 on Friday nights?”
Shutting his eyes, Eddie finally dropped the bat to his side, and Steve could breathe again. When he opened them again, he glared at Steve. “For your information, I was watching a goddamn movie.”
It finally clicked. “Why didn’t you say you lived here before? I thought that was your office,” said Steve, looking towards the dark hallway.
“Because not everyone knows. It was supposed to be a temporary thing, I just didn’t want to stay with Wayne anymore, and it was convenient. I pay him rent, but it’s nothing like what the city would cost me.” He looked defensive.
Steve just nodded, unsure of what to make of it all. Before he knew it, Eddie had walked back into his office–bedroom– and then returned with one shoe on his foot, the other in his hand, his bat nowhere to be seen. He hopped down the hallway trying to pull the other sneaker on.
“Alright,” said Eddie when he succeeded. “Come on, then.”
Steve didn’t move as he passed by, wafting a soft, sweet scent from his clothes. “Huh?”
“You need to waste some time, let’s waste it.” He was leading Steve through a door he hadn’t noticed before leading out of the kitchen. He grabbed a tin lunchbox as they headed outside. Steve followed as if on autopilot onto a surprisingly cozy, covered back porch, fit with a table, chairs, and even a couch and coffee table that made up for the missing furniture inside. It looked homey.
Eddie set the box down to plug in some string lights that provided enough illumination for them to see one another. They sat on opposite sides of the couch; once Steve saw Eddie prop up his feet, he did, too, hoping to give any semblance of a relaxed state–when, really, his heart was hammering in his chest.
When Eddie opened the lunchbox in his lap, Steve immediately got a whiff of what was inside, and he prayed a silent thank you to whatever fates led him here. Eddie looked over at Steve with a grin. “You seemed like you’d need something stronger than those.”
That was the second time Steve forgot about the cigarettes clutched in his palm; he decided to set them down and nod as a sign of his gratitude.
Then, Eddie started to roll his own joint as if he’d done this a million times. Steve even saw that he had proper rolling papers. He watched him with fascination while Eddie focused on his task. No words were spoken between them, but something about the silence felt comfortable. No, not comfortable, but… anticipating. Steve stared in awe at how relaxed he was, delicately licking the edge of the paper to hold it closed. Eddie’s hair was almost completely out of the low bun it was in and long strands dangled down, creating a curtain around his eyes. Steve had the urge to brush it aside.
“How’s the sunburn?” Eddie asked.
“The what?” Steve blinked out of his trance. His heart was pounding.
“Dude, you’ve got to snap out of it. Did I scare you that bad?” Eddie leaned in, searching Steve’s eyes for something.
“No, no, I’m fine, I swear. Thank you.” What was he thanking him for? Steve was screaming at himself on the inside, begging him to regain his cool. “I’m so sorry–for barging in like this. I can go, you don’t have to let me stay.”
“I know, Steve. It’s cool. To be honest it gets… a little lonely living out here, not being in the city. Your presence is welcomed, for now.” He shot Steve another smile and began to light the end of the joint. Steve starts to wonder if Eddie has already done this once tonight based on his low, honeyed voice, the slightest glaze over his eyes.
“Where’s Wayne’s?” wondered Steve.
“Closest suburb to the east of here. Not ten minutes down the road when there’s no traffic. I just needed some space to learn how to take care of myself, but still save some money.” He took a drag. “And to smoke without worrying about Mrs. Wheeler next door calling the cops,” he added, chuckling devilishly low as if it was something that actually happened.
Steve took the pass, inhaling deeply, trying to hide his little coughs. “What movie?” he asked as he stretched his arm back out for Eddie to take the joint from his hands.
Eddie looked over and laughed. “Can you speak more than two words at a time?”
Steve rolled his eyes and snatched his hand back, moving it out of Eddie’s grasp to take another hit. “Fine, fine! I mean, what movie were you watching before I broke into your house?”
“Technically you didn’t break in, you have a key.”
Steve flushed. “That’s another thing to get back to. Are you avoiding the question?”
“Never. I was watching Back to the Future 2,” he said matter-of-factly, chin held high as he took back the joint, fingers brushing Steve’s, sending a shiver up his arm. “Arguably, the superior of the two films. With triple the Michael Fox. ” Eddie looked up at the lights dreamily.
“Dude, what? You’re lying to me. The original is so much–wait, what?” he asked, caught off guard by Eddie’s last words.
He laughed, “Kidding, Harrington! So far, the original one reigns supreme.” He winked, but his gaze didn’t linger. “That was actually going to be my first time seeing it until…” he gestured to the two of them sitting on the couch.
The confusion Steve was experiencing at Eddie’s implications caused him to flush again. “Oh,” was all he said in response. Maybe he should ask him if he’s into guys. “So why give out keys to literally your home? Does everyone have them?” Steve screamed at himself in his head.
“Usually I don’t have to worry about anyone I work with thinking anything valuable is inside. Tonight I was sorely mistaken. And no, not everyone has one, but anyone needs to be able to get in, so…” Eddie shrugged. “It’s worked out for me so far. I keep my room locked too during the day, so don’t get any ideas.” He smiled.
Steve decided not to ask why he received one after his first day, and instead decided to change the subject. “My roommate wouldn’t really have kicked me out herself, but I knew she’d want the place since she was the only one getting lucky tonight.” Oh, God. Why did he have to bring that up?
“Ahhhh, are we in love with said ‘roommate’? Here on a feel-sorry-for-yourself evening escapade?” Eddie tilted his head to the side, peering at Steve through lidded eyes.
“No. Seriously, it’s not like that. She’s my best friend. We went to this place downtown… near Pennsylvania Avenue,” Steve was cautious with his words, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know. “I forgot the name. Do you know any bars over there?”
Eddie met Steve’s eyes, but his were unreadable. “Yeah, I know of one. Did they play a lot of dream pop?”
“Yes!” Steve exclaimed, trying not to sound too overly excited that Eddie picked up on a similar detail as him. And appeared to have visited the same bar as him. This probably meant he was cool, but he still couldn’t tell anything about him. He should just ask. “Yes, that one. Red door?”
Eddie nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Tell me more about her. Your roommate.”
Steve got lost in talking about his best friend for a moment. He was familiar with giving the usual exposition of how they met working at an ice cream parlor but had gone to school together for years. They were inseparable ever since, up until she graduated and decided to go to college, which Steve hadn’t got in. He was so grateful she was close by, but he always felt that he couldn’t follow. When Robin’s scholarship finally let her live off campus, Steve was elated to come join her somewhere new.
“So, she’s the whole reason why you're here?” Eddie asked.
“Kind of. She’s who really got me out of my hometown,” replied Steve, shrugging.
“Hmm, sounds like you might be in love with her…” Eddie repeated. “Why else would you want to move just to work such a shit job with such a shit boss?” He gestured to himself, topped with a sickly sweet smile.
“Seriously, dude, that ship has sailed. Or never even made it in the water. Or doesn’t even exist. I don’t–I don’t see her like that,” Steve answered, not sure if Eddie could pick up on what he meant. The weed was starting to cause his thoughts to swim around in his head. “This was the only job I got called back for.”
“Oh,” said Eddie. The joint had sat forgotten between his fingers as they spoke. Now, Eddie lit it once more, taking a drag. Instead of turning his head to blow the smoke away from Steve like he had before, he leaned in, locked eyes with him; he blinked slowly as he directed his exhale at Steve’s face in a powerful gust. Steve groaned, made a face and put up his hands, pretending to be bothered by it while his stomach did somersaults; he had to fight to not stare at his lips. “Guess Wayne was desperate, huh?” Eddie kidded.
“Hah, yeah, I guess so,” Steve nervously laughed to shake himself out of the trance Eddie put him in. He knew Eddie was reasonably joking, but it wasn’t far from what Steve suspected was the truth. But speaking the words out into the world of his failures didn’t hurt as much with the weed in his system. It didn’t feel so much his own fault as it was the nature of the outside world. Life outside a small town. Simple truths you learn as you age. Finding a job is hard, being gay is dangerous, etc.
A quiet silence fell over them as they finished those last puffs of the joint. It was comfortable, but Steve couldn’t help but feel the absence of the words between them. It was nearing midnight according to Eddie’s digital watch on his wrist. Was it really just hours before Steve overheard Eddie complaining about him? Saying he was going to “ruin everything”?
Steve jostled at the memory, the same concerns from before settling in. He had to ask.
“Eddie… What happened last summer?” Steve urged.
Their eyes met again. When did they get so close? Steve could see the expanses of Eddie’s brown eyes. They suddenly darkened, and it was as if Steve was being pulled forward ever so slightly.
Then, Eddie pulled his legs back, leaned forward, and propped his elbows on his knees, putting distance between them as if nothing had happened. He looked out to the darkness of the woods ahead.
“Nothing that actually concerns you. I’m sorry you heard me yell,” he revealed, defeated and ashamed. “This guy on my crew last year, he caused a lot of problems. Didn’t treat Max well either.”
Steve’s stomach flipped again; so Eddie was referring to him with that outburst. Steve wasn’t sure what this last guy had to do with him. He hadn’t caused any problems like that, right? He barely remembered what he did that day. Steve paused, taking in the information; he had that same feeling again, that there was more to be said about his guy, but before he could pry further, Eddie interrupted.
“Anyways, you might want to be heading back before it gets too late. You good to drive? I don’t have anywhere for you to crash,” asked Eddie.
Taken aback, Steve nodded, feeling dismissed. They stood to walk inside; Steve paused to assess how high he was only to find he was hardly buzzed. He was surprised, certain that he felt so much more a second ago.
Steve couldn’t tell what Eddie was thinking as his face was blank when they walked along a dirt path in the trailer to the front door. Eddie held it open for him as Steve tried to think of something to say.
“Thanks! For hanging out I mean, and the smoke.” Steve hoped he was successful at attempting to sound casual. In return, Eddie gave a familiar grin, nodding once and shutting the door behind him without another word.
Steve stood there for a moment, wondering why bringing up this guy set Eddie off so badly. He wished he could have stayed for longer, but it was getting late. Sighing, Steve brushed off his nerves and walked towards his car to head home.
As Steve drove that evening, despite abruptly being sent home, he couldn't help but to be hopeful. Steve could drop the whole last summer issue if Eddie could. He imagined himself enjoying himself at work, making Eddie laugh, making him proud. Becoming his friend. Really learning how to do the work. He smiled to himself as he walked up to his apartment. He didn’t even feel so lonely when giggling drifted up from under Robin’s door. Steve went to bed in his new room finally feeling a little at peace. He fell asleep to the image of Eddie’s smile behind his eyes.
#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#fanfic#art#kiss off fic#hehehehehhehehehehehe#steddie au
118 notes
·
View notes
Note
vampire!Nikki sixx x reader smut where Nikki is just fucking the daylights out of her and won't stop commenting on her heart rate (superhearing) like the smug man he is.
Sorry if you don't write stuff like this feel free to reject, I just thought this sounded hot.
Love you 🩵
don't usually write stuffs like this, but hope I did well !! :")
╰┈➤“𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑫 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫𝑬𝑫„ ๋࣭⭑
Vampire!Nikki Sixx x Reader
Contains Smut and Blood.
The moment I stepped out into the city late at night like this, I knew it might mean trouble. Los Angeles was wild. Too wild, perhaps. You’d see people driving in cars and blasting music loudly, people partying here and there, even some fights. But here I am, only trying to make my way back home from work.
My steps weren’t calm, yet weren’t so fast either. I would’ve chosen a taxi. But I wasn’t taking the chance of getting into a taxi with a creep again. However, was walking any better?
Surely not.
The road was crowded, sure. But not every one of them would seem to give a fuck if a woman was approached by creeps, no matter how obvious a scene is going on, some of them would most likely just avoid the scene in order to ‘protect’ themselves.
Hence, I take shortcuts along my way home. Not saying it’s any safer, but it would be useful if any sketchy dudes with big hairs, leather jackets, and tattoos were going your way.
I walk into the alleyway, the lights of L.A that were always so bright, turned dim and flickering in this area. Puddles of god knows what liquid were everywhere, I had to do my best to avoid them. Which is why, black shoe soles were better in this case, hiding what would be a fucking dirty sole.
However, my steps stops when I see a figure ahead of me. His body tall, dyed black hair big and long enough to hide the back of his neck, he was dressed in black, big boots and gloves covering what would be his slender fingers.
Another thing about the Los Angeles, is that not every corner of The City of Angels was always filled with angels.
Some of the Angelenos tends to stay in the dark late at night, blending perfectly well into the shadows like a camouflage and lurking slowly behind you, catching you off guard the moment you notice them and their demeanor.
Their cold skin seems to look pale by nighttime, teeth pointy if you got the chance to see them talk, often longing for blood, their eyes always as sharp as a razor, cutting through the person’s head each time they were gazed at.
Not a single heart beat would manage to escape their ears that can hear thousands and thousands of noises all at once. But if you run, you stand no chance as they move deadly fast.
I gulped and slowly take a step back, trying not to make any triggering sound. Yet the puddle my shoe just happen to step on betrays me, making a small noise yet loud enough for him to hear.
His body turned around, his greyish green eyes meeting mine in an instant, the way he holds his eye contacts never failed to make my heart thumps loudly, which I hated, knowing he can hear them with such ease. His presence always had it’s way to seduce me, it takes a lot in me to hold back the secret desire in me to feel him.
I’ve encountered Nikki Sixx a couple times before, sometimes when he’s playing with his band, sometimes in situations like this, often finding it easy to avoid him and the troubles he’d surely bring towards my way, even though he never went too far over flirting. But seems like today just wasn’t my luck as he immediately went to me and pinned me up against the alley’s wall.
My breath hitched as I look up at him, a small grin on his lips now, his sharp teeth just slightly peeking out. “Got you now..” He murmured, the proximity between us making me able to take a sniff of his intoxicating cologne, the scent filling my nostrils as if I just walked into a fragrance boutique.
“..I’m just trying to go home..” I say sternly in order to make my statement crystal clear to him. I try to keep my eyes on his, trying to make him think I’m not scared. Which, I am, partially that is. In a way, I don’t think he’d hurt me. The thing he does might be very unexpected, but one thing about him is that his true desires are visible right in those eyes of his like a window to his heart.
Nikki chuckled, rolling his eyes as he lean down close to my ears, his cold breath meeting right against my skin, sending shivers up my spine as I stiffen up. “Then why don’t you let me take you home?” His hands slowly make their way towards my hips.
I froze and clear my throat before trying to speak again, “I don’t—”
But before I knew it, he cut my words of protest off as he lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder before he start run.. really fast. I yelp and hold onto his head tightly, grasping onto his hair. “What the fuck, Sixx?!?” I screamed, punching his shoulder over and over again as if it’d stop him.
The not so humanlike speed he had in his run made my heart beat fast, afraid of falling off, even though the firm hold he have on my hips are supposed to be enough to keep from falling. “Slow down! Fuck!” I protest, holding onto him for dear life and closing my eyes.
“Oh you’ll scream that again later!” He laughed like a maniac. I blush when I realize what he meant, smacking his shoulder again in response. I can’t tell whether to be flustered or feel the need to kill him, thought the possibility of the latter seems very very impossible.
Next thing I knew, we came into a stop.
Slowly, my eyes starts to flutter open while Nikki lay me down on my bed.. I flinch and look around, shocked to find us in my bedroom in a flash of light. It felt like only 5 seconds ago we were still in that nasty empty alleyway.
“How the fuck—"
I was cut off yet again when Nikki made his way on top of me on the bed, he was hovering over my figure with that same devilish grin he wore the whole time.
My breath got stuck in the middle of my throat as he towers over my body and took the back of one of his hand to caress my cheek. “Don’t be afraid, I don’t bite.” He whisper, then he paused before chuckling to himself, his sharp fangs being shown even more clearly now. “Well woops, that one’s a lie.”
Though I tried so hard to act like he doesn’t intimidate me one bit. Yet of course, my heart beat was too easy for him to detect and use as a proof of my intimidation, along with the heavy breaths I let out, each noise his ears catches making his grin even wider and devilish.
The eyeliner around his eye made the color of his eyes even more lighter and intriguing, those green eyes of his so majestic with the moonlight that peeks from my window shining his way, illuminating and spotlighting every single features that face of his owns.
Each blink my eyes made, they open to a different vision of him, each new vision, another new breathtaking features of his takes ahold of my attention while he continued to grin down at my statue-like state.
“Let me have you..” His voice echoes in my mind, like a sweet seduction for me to open up my heart, to let my desire take over my body just like the way his own desire take over his body. “I’ll take.. very good.. care of you..”
When his face leaned down even more, my eyes slowly flutter close on it’s own, acting as a permission for him to take an act.
Next thing I know, his hands clawed on my clothes and rip them apart with his strong bare hands, meanwhile his lips immediately move to mine, his kiss already passionate and rough from the moment our lips touched, his movements driven by lust and a burning flame in him.
I always knew no matter how wild this man can be, there are always much more deeper and wilder layers to unfold within him. And that is exactly what I’m doing right now.
Something in me myself burned, as if he shared that flame with me through our locked lips. My hands tugged on his hair while small gasps leaves me when my body became fully exposed within minutes, the fabrics that once covered my body were thrown away, his cold hands roaming over my warm body, the difference between our body temperature only making things even more intense.
Suddenly, I feel his fangs sink into my bottom lip, wincing when he licked up the blood that leaks from my lip and pull back from me, smirking as he starts to undress himself.
“Nikki..” I softly whisper, squirming on the cold sheets.
His finger then meets my lips, sushing me while he slowly take off his clothes.
With each fabric removed, more of his pale skin reveals itself, seducing me to touch him. His clothes were thrown to the floor, joining my own pile of ripped up clothes. I watch his body silently, the tattoos he had on his arms, the way his chest rise and fall, the happy trail leading down to his hard cock.
Then back up to the grin on his face as he slowly spread my legs apart. He was so tempting, his hands as cold as ice while he touch me with such lust in his eyes.
With his cock in his hand, he lead it to my cunt and slipped it in with such ease, almost immediately taking control over my hips and thrusting in and out of me with a surreal speed.
I gasp and grasp onto the sheets around me, squirming at the feeling of his cock filling every spot in me, the pleasure building up inside of me and pushing out dirty noises from my lips, the noises that only made him grin even more, his fangs showing much clearly.
His thrusts were incredibly fast, too fast to the point I can’t even keep up any more with it, yet it haven’t even been 5 minutes since he’s been inside me. My eyes were already rolling to the back of my head, my lips apart as I moaned out his name.
“Nikki..! Fuck..! Slow down..!”
“Feel good huh?!” He laughed a sinister laugh that fills my ears.
“So good..!” I nodded and pant for breath, desperate to have control of myself again. But this man above me was way stronger and powerful than I am, he knew way too much how to please me, or rather please himself.
His cock continued to thrust in and out of my tight hole, our skin meeting each other each time he thrusts, creating a loud slapping noise that harmonize along with my moans and his groans.
I could tell that he was losing control over himself, his head thrown back and he was letting out the loudest groan ever before he lean down and bury his face in my neck.
I thought nothing of it until I feel those sharp fangs strikes blood again, this time on my neck while he suck on the blood desperately, tasting me. I wince and held onto his back, tears building up in my hazy eyes.
Another sinister laugh leave his lips as he connects his lips to mine, making me taste my own blood on his tongue.
One of his hand that was previously on my hips trails up to my chest, his fingernails lightly caressing over the skin of my chest, making me arch my back and yearn for more of his touch.
“Your heart.. it’s beating very loud..” I can practically hear the grin in his voice as his nails gently press against my skin, making me think his nails are going to sink into my skin and steal my heart that is uncontrollably pounding very fast and loud. “I bet it’s for me, hmm? No man can give you this much pleasure, yes?”
The feeling of his cock continuously hitting that special spot in me made it hard for me to even utter out a single letter.
“Answer me!”
“YES!!”
I moaned out, my fingernails creating a big scratch mark down his back, making him groan and laugh once more before accelerating his thrusts. “What a slut.. your little heart’s practically beating out of your chest.. and it’s all for me.. your heart’s all mine..”
The tension behind his voice and choice of words only made the pleasure more unbearable, my toes curling as my legs shake, his hands still taking full control of my hips. “Yes! Yes!” I continued to pant out, not even able to breathe correctly.
Suddenly, I can feel my walls close up around his member, squeezing him in as I feel a strong knot on my stomach, my eyes wide and filled with tears that now stains my cheeks. “I need to cum.. please please let me..” I beg, half sobbing.
“Let go, baby.” He then held my legs up and place them on his shoulders, pausing before he thrusts even faster now.
Screams escapes my mouth as his faster thrusts pulls out the strongest release from me ever, my back arching off the sheets beneath me while his hips’ movement slowly falters as he fills me up with his seeds, shooting in white streaks all around my hole before pulling out.
As I try to take control of my breathing, his body plopped onto the spot beside me, pulling me close to his chest. “Told you I’d take care of you..” He panted out with that same grin never leaving his face.
I scoffed out a chuckle and rest my head on his chest, still panting. “What.. Whatever..”
He was breathing heavily, his chest rising up and down just like mine is, though I did not hear a single heart beat the whole time I rest on his chest.
But I suppose that’s just what he is.
A cold-blooded creature with a once dead heart that’s been brought back to live.
#nikki sixx#nikki sixx x reader#nikki sixx x you#nikki sixx smut#nikki sixx fanfiction#motley crue#motley crue x reader#motley crue smut#motley crue fanfiction#fanfic#smut#fanfiction#writing#band fic#tommy lee#mick mars#vince neil#nikki sixx imagine#oneshot#imagines
128 notes
·
View notes
Text
lewis is doing what?
Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC
Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff
Word Count: 3k
Warning: Changes in the timeline for the sake of the story.
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: This is my first F1 fic, which makes me nervous so why not start with a series.
Many Drive to Survive haters like to pretend everything that comes from the show and what it’s about are beneath them. That they couldn’t possibly care, and that the only important thing is the race on Sunday. And yet the day after the latest season drops you can find them amongst the chaos trying to figure out what the hell were all those hints about a new form of content that F1 plans to release.
Interwoven with the usual storylines and mild dramatics there was a lot of talk about how drivers show their families the support they’re given. How they show up for them in their careers and bits of their lives. It was weird at first, but then it sent off alarm bells when an almost fourth wall breaking moment happened where the Netflix team was blatantly dismissed.
“I think we have this one Netflix, but thanks for the help.” Those were the exact words spoken by the head of marketing as she closed the door to a room where you get a glimpse of team paraphernalia but see no faces.
Every social platform that you can find an F1 fan on has it trending and the conversations (and screams into the void) are fast paced. But Twitter is where the real unhinged and brain cell losing behavior is happening.
And the most accurate guessing.
Almost everyone within the community is discussing what that snippet could mean. Is it the end of DTS as they know it? The end of it completely? Are F1 and Netflix severing ties? Will F1 be taking over? Is this some little game they're playing with their viewers to keep them tuned in? Is it something completely different? What the actual fuck is going on?
In the middle of those questions are those who think themselves a genius or are delusional enough that they can’t help but form some wild ideas of what’s to come.
Someone must be retiring. Multiple people are retiring. There’s going to be a reality show ala Keeping Up with the Verstappens, where everyone learns that Max’s little trauma dumpy memories with Jos are just the surface level of how insane that man is. Someone is getting married. Someone is getting married to another driver. A nepo baby is going to become the “voice of the fandom” and host a show about the drivers during race weekends and it’s going to be all the wrong things. A dating show for all the singles. A behind the scenes at the lives of drivers and their families, but like Family Feud. And the penultimate dude bro dream of them getting to spend the season hanging out with drivers and get confirmation that their toxic thoughts that alienate most of the fan base is true.
After about twenty-four hours it all dies down. Everyone is still wondering, but they don’t feel like they’re losing their minds while they try to be the one who can say they were right when they news drops.
As if timed, the second that F1 drops in trends the F1 admin drops a graphic with the faces of six people who are clearly positioned like the thinking face emoji on every platform that they use. In the captions it says: Week in the Life - Sibling Edition.
If Twitter was home to the first wave of screaming, it belongs to Tumblr the second go round. Everyone is so excited for the content that someone must have thrown up from how aggressively happy they feel. Everyone is talking about who they want it to be and what content they’d love to see from which sibling. Those who make gifs are especially excited to get everything they can, though they won’t be outdone by those whose brains and fingers will be entities on their own once they get hold of a singular moment that will inspire the fic of everyone’s dreams.
Those who always have something negative to say are there as usual, but they aren’t as loud or upset as they often are. Being nosy doesn’t stop just because you want to pretend that you only care about the race, as if someone doesn’t have a file of screenshots from all the times, they’ve attacked the character of a driver for something not race related at all.
The reaction to this is the kind that instills faith in what is being done. The kind of thing that tells all the upper management who didn’t like it that it was a good idea, but also puts a certain bit of weight on the content team. They need this to deliver. Need to keep the hype, especially since the first episode doesn’t drop until the start of December and they’ve already recorded half the series so a failure could stop the rest.
So once the Singapore GP ends, Daniel Ricciardo’s face is no longer gray. You get to see that goofy smile and wink. You’d think they told everyone he was getting a permanent seat with a three year contract with the reception to it.
It’s Charles Leclerc for Japan.
Lance Stroll for Qatar.
Carlos Sainz for COTA.
Alex Albon for Mexico.
And coming off his first P1 of the season, Lewis Hamilton for Brazil.
For the next week or so if a tweet isn’t about excitement, disdain, or shock in regard to this new F1 exclusive content, it has a certain main character at its center.
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x black!reader#f1 x reader#f1 x black!reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x black!reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fan fiction#f1 fanfic#f1 fan fiction#f1 imagine
172 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love and Redemption: A Fantasy Epic About How Prejudice Destroys Worlds, and How Love Pieces Them Back Together
**major spoilers for: Love and Redemption
After wrapping up a watch-through of Mysterious Lotus Casebook, my mom had the brilliant idea that we should rewatch the work that launched Cheng Yi to fame (or at the very least solidified him as the man to hire if you need someone to spit blood): Love and Redemption.
I’m certain she only found this idea appealing because she doesn’t remember a TV show after it’s over. Credits rolling? Aight, time for the woman to clear up space on her brain’s memory drive. Meanwhile, my life flashed before my eyes as I recalled the anguish that’s synonymous with the show’s plot. But you know how things go when your mom wants something. If she says you're sitting through 44 hours of emotional torture with her, then you plant yourself on that couch until it’s over.
Ironically, Love and Redemption fares even better on rewatch. Though other xianxias have come close to its place in my heart, I’m now concerned that my palate won’t be so easily satiated again. It’s got your conventional reincarnation, warring realms, and a star-crossed romance while throwing curveball after curveball to shatter your expectations. Complex characters, too? An endgame villain who will haunt you in your sleep? You can’t ask for more.
Just because you didn’t ask, doesn’t mean that the show won’t deliver something extra. I like to think that nothing reflects a society’s unsightly reality like a well-done fantasy, and this one hits closer to home the more time that passes. A thinly veiled commentary on human flaws and how difficult it is to be a good person, Love and Redemption is a drama for the ages.
This is going to get lengthy, so to prepare you, here’s how I’m divvying up this piece:
Part I: All of Them Are Classist
Part II: All of Them Are Sexist
Part III: All of Them Are Racist
Part IV: Love Wins All
---
Part I: All of Them Are Classist
It’s not my intention to disgust anyone right out of the gate, but we need to talk about Wu Tong. Do you hear what I hear? Yes, it’s the distant echo of Wu Tong’s nefarious laughter, resounding between the walls of my skull.
Quite simply, Wu Tong is the worst. (Or at least he would be, if it weren’t for that other fellow named Bai Lin. That dude will get a glaring spotlight later in this essay, trust me.) But it’s not for no reason.
Coming from a background of poverty, Wu Tong spends most of his young life trying to prove himself to upper class cultivators who don’t have any interest in who he is, only in what he has to offer them. He earns his place in his sect through relentless hard work. He utilizes unsportsmanlike methods in his attempts to win the battle tournament in opening episodes. It's not just a competition to him—he's directly told that if he gets anything other than first place, he can forget about keeping his place in his sect.
When he and the protagonists first meet, his prideful personality results from his inferiority complex. There’s no doubt that he’s a powerful cultivator, but the issue is how he finds that to be his only real value. He doesn't bother to be likable, because what's the point in doing that? Being likable doesn't fill an empty stomach. But the more he disrespects others in an effort to make himself appear important, the more others look down on him, and the more he overcompensates by fighting back even more. It’s a vicious cycle—one that never ends because no one involved wants to take the first step back.
Knowing what type of person he becomes, it’s hard to pity him in any capacity. However, it would still be unfair to ignore how others mistreat him before he even turns into a true enemy.
One scene that sticks out to me happens early on, where Wu Tong nearly injures Xuanji during a 1v1 battle against Minyan. The protagonist crew insists on getting payback. Okay, I’m with it. You can’t let such reckless violence slide. I guess they’ll get their revenge in a later stage of the tournament by beating him into the ground?
Nah. That would be too reasonable. What they actually opt for is tricking him to fall into a trap by putting up a “have you seen my lost snake?” poster with a financial reward, knowing that he’ll be fooled because…he’s poor.
Sifeng: I asked around. Wu Tong was born to a family of lower status. He lives frugally. The reason he trains so hard is because he hopes to become someone powerful one day. […] Now he needs the money urgently to buy medicine and recuperate his inner strength before his next battle. Minyan: When you put it that way, doesn’t that mean he has no choice but to come for the ten night pearls?
Sifeng…oh no. Not you too.
The way Wu Tong behaves doesn’t warrant anyone being amicable toward him. I, too, have a nonexistent tolerance for obnoxious, violent egoists. But if later episodes are any evidence, this scene foreshadows that two wrongs won’t make a right. If they want to teach him a lesson, they shouldn’t stoop so low as to take advantage of his poverty. His family background is the one thing about him that isn’t his fault, yet it’s the one thing they choose to use against him. That’s what I call “going too far.”
Now that he's been hit where it hurts, Wu Tong feels justified in going too far himself. In a fit of desperation and contempt prompted by his master abandoning him, he stabs Xuanji. Not great. Things get extremely not great when you remember that Xuanji is the daughter of a sect leader. That quickly transforms Wu Tong’s attempted murder/almost manslaughter into the evilest act known to mankind. All five sects turn against him to hunt him down and kill him. I’m no law or philosophy expert, but I’m pretty sure the punishment for almost manslaughter is not the death penalty.
The five sects can treat him as their prey because he doesn’t have a support system to counter them. If he were the son of another sect leader, the thought of killing him would never even have entered their minds. Targeting him so relentlessly has less to do with justice and more to do with exerting power over a lower-class young man who hurt someone infinitely more “important” than him.
That imbalance between crime and punishment is what pushes Wu Tong over the edge. He goes on the run for several years before officially succumbing to the call of evil, after which he becomes truly irredeemable. Still, you’re occasionally reminded of his struggle—is he destined to be a villain? Or is throwing aside his remaining morality just his best chance at survival?
Do you have any idea how I survived these past several years, when you were all trying to kill me? What did I do back then that was so unforgivable? Did your sister die? Was it warranted for all five sects to team up against me, an average disciple? Was it warranted to back me into a corner over and over again, to force me to claw out of hell? Open your eyes and look at me! These past four years, I’ve already died countless times. Every time, I clawed my way back out of hell. Five hundred taels? You want to take my life with a measly five hundred taels? Don’t look down on me. Touch here. I have a fake leg. That’s what your five sects have left me with. What’s that look of yours? Guilt? Pity? I’m not telling you this for you to pity me. I, Wu Tong, survived this far because I must have my revenge.
Something my mom likes to say is if you find yourself going against someone—but especially a dangerous person—you must leave a path for their survival. It’s less for their sake than it is for yours. Should you eliminate all their options, they’ll have no choice but to bite. And they’ll make sure it hurts like hell.
As an impetuous teenager, Wu Tong is in the wrong. He needs to be taught that his actions are unacceptable. But that can’t be accomplished by putting a bounty on his head and demanding that he be murdered. That’s how you turn a scoundrel into a monster.
Minyan, Wu Tong’s foil, similarly doesn’t come from an optimal background. An orphan, he was taken in by the Shaoyang Sect without the obvious pressure that Wu Tong suffers. Even so, he can’t escape the innate inequality that seems to exist between him and his fellow disciples. It especially affects him because he’s in love with Linglong, Xuanji’s sister but more importantly…also the daughter of the sect leader! Poor guy.
When I was little, kids in the village would surround me every day and call me a bastard child with no parents. I could only pretend that I didn’t hear them. Because if I took it to heart, they would only ridicule me more. We can’t shut the mouths of people who want to slander us. But we can choose not to listen.
He may think that he’s past it, but later episodes see Minyan being manipulated using that exact insecurity. It’s easy to impersonate his master and nudge him to become a “spy” in the enemy base because he’s compelled to prove himself worthy of the sect and worthy of Linglong. Fake Sect Leader Chu Lei tells him:
When I first met you, you were only eight years old. You were homeless on the streets, starving and shivering. Still, you clung to your family dagger and refused to pawn it. In that moment, I knew that you were a child with an iron will. That’s why I’m here to find you today.
I can agree that Minyan is really stupid to immediately believe that his master, a guy well-known for pretending to do important things more than he actually does them, would tell him to do something as reckless as invade enemy territory. However, he also heeds the impostor’s instructions because realistically, his master asking him to prove himself is something that could happen. Any good disciple would naturally want to repay their masters for their favor, let alone a disciple who would otherwise have nowhere else to go.
The contrast between Minyan and Wu Tong shoves itself in your face as you watch, primarily through their respective relationships with Linglong (well, one of them has a relationship. The other is a creep. Can you guess who’s who?). Without family backing, the two men both struggle to find their place in the world, but they’re complete opposites purely because of their upbringing. Thankfully for Minyan, he found a family amongst people who don’t treat him as “another,” even if he may think of himself as such.
Wu Tong isn’t so fortunate. You can say it’s his own doing, a result of his terrible personality, but he certainly wasn’t born like that. And now someone will pay for it.
---
Part II: All of Them Are Sexist
As a caveat, I’ll mention that the main cast really could have used a woman who isn’t some combination of foolish, lovestruck, and/or loud. But I’m willing to overlook it just this once because the writers excel in highlighting both the ladies' flaws and how we as an audience exaggerate those flaws through our own preconceptions.
Working backwards in terms of plot importance, we can start with Xiao Yinhua. Sifeng’s snake familiar in a human form, Xiao Yinhua is like most female leads from the turn of the millennium in that her only real strength is throwing temper tantrums. She’s also like most second female leads from the turn of the millennium in that she constantly prefers using underhanded tactics and harming others to achieve her goals—in other words, a snake. Oh. I guess that makes sense.
Her affections toward Sifeng cloud her already nonexistent judgment and prompt her to make some of the worst decisions made by anyone, ever. At first, I thought I was being unfair toward her because of my own internalized misogyny. But no. I can say with absolute confidence that I would abhor this character no matter what gender or creature or object she may be. She has no redeeming qualities aside from teaching us that someone foolish, lovestruck, and loud is doomed to self-sabotage. From that perspective, she’s still a valuable character to have because now we know that before we act, we should think: would Xiao Yinhua do that thing? If she would, do not do that thing.
If Xiao Yinhua were willing to grow up, she could become more similar to Zi Hu. Zi Hu almost acts as a parallel to Sifeng—hopelessly in love with someone who doesn’t return the affection for a literal thousand years. Also, both are very pretty. Ahem.
Zi Hu’s thousand years’ worth of experience gives her the skills to back up her unrelenting feelings for Wu Zhiqi. She’s a rarity in that her driving force is a man—a motivation that's typically a reputation ruiner for female characters—but you find her lovable instead of thinking that she lacks self-respect. The key is that her love isn’t blind and rash like Xiao Yinhua’s. Zi Hu has a plan to save Wu Zhiqi from his prison and she carries it out with intention. In other words, it’s okay to focus on love, but only if you can take responsibility for your feelings.
Ting Nu: Why go so far? When did Wu Zhiqi ever tell you that he loved you? Your affections are merely one-sided. Zi Hu: When did he tell me he didn’t love me? Look, once I rescue him, he’ll have to be with me to thank me.
Because Zi Hu is a literal fox, people suspect her both for being a demon and for being the demon notorious for seducing men to consume their souls. The latter is quickly debunked and becomes less of an issue than her just being a plain demon. I nonetheless find it hilarious how everyone balks when she shows them her harem of men gleefully living in her backyard. Yep, she’s a cunning vixen. You can just keep wishing you could join that harem.
Zi Hu: You're trying to shoo me away. You think I’ll storm out because of your petty tricks? You’re underestimating me. I’ve already decided, starting today, I’m going to follow you everywhere. Even if you don’t want me to, I’m going to cling to you. This old spirit isn’t going to let those thousand years of waiting be in vain. Wherever you go, I’m going with. If you dare sneak peeks at other pretty women, I’ll dig out your monkey eyes. All in all, if I’m around, no pretty woman can enter your vision. As if you could bear to leave me behind if I hang around for another thousand years!
Xiao Yinhua and Zi Hu aren’t overly victimized based on their gender within the show itself. For the better too, because whoever dares to do so would probably end up dead by a fox's claws and a snake's teeth. These two characters' existences test your innate view of female characters instead. What is it that matters to you in a female character? What standards do you hold against them?
(**Content warning for the below segment until the next purple break: brief mentions of sexual assault and suicide.)
And that's where we come to Linglong. Linglong is a loudmouthed spoiled brat. She's overbearing, and while she wants to protect Xuanji, her method of doing it is by crying crocodile tears and throwing temper tantrums in front of their father. No wonder she and Xiao Yinhua clash—two childish people who both have a compulsion to win arguments? Forget it.
A bulk of the drama sees Linglong’s primordial spirit being taken and held captive by Wu Tong. Wu Tong puts half of her primordial spirit into the body of a flower demon, whom he also forces to take on Linglong’s physical appearance. No other reason, he just wants to have his way with someone who looks and acts like Linglong, the person who jeered at him all those years ago. By the time the real Linglong recovers her primordial spirit, Wu Tong has done enough damage that she’s haunted by nightmares and memories of someone who assaulted her when she couldn't even fight back.
The lead-up to this arc is incredibly disturbing and takes root in the very first episode. On my first watch-through, I thought their relationship would take a classic enemies-to-lovers path. The directors and writers pull you in this direction with no subtlety, showing a smitten Wu Tong when he first lays eyes on Linglong. They then keep the scam going by having him act out in awful ways as he attempts to gain her attention. That’s right, it’s the brainwashing girls receive when they’re on the playground: “he pulls your hair because he likes you."
During their first meeting, Linglong is surrounded by a halo filter from Wu Tong’s perspective. Knowing what he’ll later do to her makes the seeming innocuousness of this scene revolting, but it's necessary. It's the first of many steps to prove that someone’s “affections” can’t be used as an excuse for harming whomever’s on the receiving end of them.
Linglong can be an extremely annoying person. Her outspokenness and difficult temper shape her into an unlikable character, which then ensures that by the time Wu Tong captures her, the audience almost instinctively wants to say that it’s her fault. We all know the talk track: “he liked her, so why couldn’t she just have been nicer to him? She asked for it by being mean to him.”
When Linglong first offends Wu Tong, it isn’t for no reason: she’s angry because he endangers her sister’s life over and over again. Admittedly, she goes overboard in her retaliation against him. So what? Linglong being mean to Wu Tong and Wu Tong later targeting her are indeed connected events, but the former doesn't justify the latter. If we say that the five sects hunting Wu Tong down isn’t a fair punishment, then isn’t it also unfair for him to turn the tables on her in such a way?
Essentially, Linglong isn’t the “ideal” victim. That’s what makes her arc all the more heartbreaking. To this day, society wants to find any excuses for the assailant. Any mistake, any flaw of the victim's will be used against her. As humans, maybe it’s instinct for us to hope that bad things only happen to bad people, and victim-blaming is our twisted way of making that an impossible reality.
Overcome with depression and trauma, Linglong is unable to come to terms with what Wu Tong did to her. Men gossip about her and her “relationship” with the enemy, sometimes harassing her straight to her face. Wu Tong himself finds great delight in taunting her about her “sharing his bed,” not only relishing the memories but also enjoying how much it torments her.
Linglong: It was my fault that I was captured by Wu Tong, wasn’t it? [...] Everyone thinks so. I didn’t want to be captured by Wu Tong. But after Wu Tong said all those things, everyone thinks so. Minyan: Linglong, why care about what everyone else thinks? Just pretend that you didn’t hear any of it. Linglong: But I did hear them. Why do I need to pretend I didn’t? It’s something that actually happened, so why do I need to play dumb and trick myself into thinking it didn’t? Are you going to be like them too, and mock me?
All the accusations brainwash her into thinking everything is her fault. To Wu Tong and all the people judging her, she’s nothing but a pawn to be used for their own entertainment. And once she and Minyan leave the protection of the sect, everyone finds her an easy target to push around. Hoping that her death will mean freedom for both herself and her loved ones, she attempts to drown herself before being yanked back to life and reality by Minyan.
Linglong’s struggle is many women’s worst nightmare. It’s also a diligent representation of PTSD, something that I normally wouldn’t expect from a xianxia drama. Even after she's rescued and everyone tells her that her suffering is over, it never feels over for her. At night, Lingling is awoken by harrowing dreams of Wu Tong returning to kidnap her once again:
Nightmare!Wu Tong: You’ll always belong to me. You can’t escape.
The conclusion to her arc being Wu Tong’s death and his literal letting go of her may be quite idealistic. But I prefer to think that giving Linglong her happy ending is the writers’ way of trying to assuage our fears, of showing us that there will always be another sunrise regardless of what happens.
(**Content warning end.)
Linglong becomes the drama’s strongest woman-centric plot, and I really love that the writers did it with a character whose personality isn't the most appealing. She's the imperfect woman we can find in every corner of the world, a representation of women overall instead of the minority who are considered "deserving" of justice.
Next to her, Xuanji also gets a short end of the stick. She's constantly being pushed to marry Hao Chen. Every excuse in the book is used against her: they're a fated couple, he's the only one that can take care of her, doesn't she agree that this is a part of her duty? No matter how logically she objects to it, no one really cares what she thinks. If she objects, she’s being headstrong, and that’s the end of it. (More on Xuanji to come in Part IV of this essay.)
And aside from Bai Lin’s more obvious transgressions (we're getting to those), what really irked me is just how twisted he makes the God of War’s rebellion appear in others’ eyes. The logic turns quickly from “Bai Lin must have done something wrong” into “the God of War must have been in love with Bai Lin and grew resentful that he rejected her.” I guess it’s very believable that the God of War would want to destroy the entire universe because some guy wouldn’t date her? That’s right, you can be the most accomplished woman in your field and someone will still want to attribute everything you do to being motivated by romance.
Naturally, the next question is—why is Bai Lin such a weirdo? Why does he insist on turning his friend Luohou Jidu, a man, into a woman when creating the God of War? Hmm. I smell a waft of homophobia...
---
Part III: All of Them Are Racist
And except for a small minority, I really mean "all of them" this time. Humans and celestial beings are racist toward demons. Demons are racist back toward humans and celestial beings. If you asked both sides who started it, they'd point at the other without hesitation. "They started it. By existing."
I don’t even know where to start with this topic. Part of me believes this entire section of analysis could be extraneous—do I really need to do a deep dive when you could just click a random timestamp of a random episode and have a 50% chance of finding a character saying something incredibly racist? No case studies necessary. The drama is the case study.
Obviously, while I may say that all the different races are racist toward one another, some are notably more egregious in their discrimination than others. The five sects, being in power, are the worst offenders. Every other second, someone is reminding another that they need to wipe out demons. Just the utterance of the word “demon” makes them froth at the mouth. In their possession, they have treasure troves of weapons and magical devices whose collective main purpose is to identify and kill demons. Perhaps you know someone in real life who thinks that hating something is a personality trait—that’s the five sects in a nutshell.
Zi Hu and Ting Nu are continuously snubbed for not being human even after they’ve long proven that they’re more help than harm. Ting Nu is a doctor, but even saving Hao Chen doesn’t make them think of him as anything but a demon who is evil in his very bones. Demons can do everything right, but the high and mighty humans are too pure and innocent to associate with them…aside from killing and torturing them, of course.
Highlighted Exhibit A: Sifeng almost being tortured and whipped to death based on the mere suspicion that he’s a demon. The fact that he is one doesn’t matter. His assailants operate on the doctrine that they’d rather kill an innocent person than let a demon roam free. Every action to rid the world of a demon is a virtuous one. It's a reenactment of the Monty Python witch trial but they're being completely serious.
Highlighted Exhibit B: the other sects band together to wipe out Lize Palace without solid confirmation as to whether they’re all demons. They’re operating on the same principle as in Exhibit A, so at least you can praise them for being consistent.
Highlighted Exhibit C: before Sifeng is revealed to be a pretty bird, Xuanji’s repeated defense of him consists of "Sifeng isn’t a demon." The main purpose of these lines is to instill further fear into Sifeng and give him more reason to keep lying to her, all while Xuanji's trust in him deepens. But is it also some of her lingering innate judgment seeping through? A subconscious understanding that her family and sect will never accept a demon as her boyfriend? Well, joke’s on them because he’s one hot bird.
So how are you supposed to survive as a demon? Lize Palace results from the humans’ desire to eradicate an entire race of demons. Just as Wu Tong is driven only by revenge, the demons of Lize Palace just need to survive for long enough to one day remove their masks and live as themselves. Humans’ endless thirst for blood does nothing but fuel demons’ fire of rebellion and keep the wheel of tragedy turning.
As for the “bad guys” of Tianxu Hall? At least when they commit the same acts of evil as the other five sects, they’re willing to admit that being evil isn’t beyond them.
Yuan Lang is an extremely successful villain for this very reason. All of us love Yuan Lang, so much that we start grinning whenever he comes on-screen with his fan and sarcastic mouth. So much that when it's revealed he's been consuming people's souls, all my mom had to say about it was: “Oh. That's mean of him.”
He plots and he lies and he murders, but he doesn’t put up a facade of holding himself to a lofty moral standard. It’s also quite telling that while Yuan Lang machinates behind the scenes, 90% of his time is spent standing by and calling others out on their bullshit. Everyone around him creates their own downfall. He just happens to benefit from their stupidity.
Man with a fan and a plan. I like.
Even so, Yuan Lang isn’t invulnerable to emotion. One of my absolute favorite scenes is where Di Lang sacrifices himself so Yuan Lang can make a getaway. It’s the only instance of Yuan Lang being subject to the pain of caring about someone else. Those short moments contrast so starkly against the sects’ inhumanity that suddenly, a revolution doesn’t seem all that bad.
Behind the bulky mask, his despair is apparent. Man. This actor’s come a long way since his F4—I mean, H4 days. If you've never watched Let's Go Watch Meteor Shower Together, don't.
Finally, we arrive on the topic of Bai Lin. Oh, boy. I still haven’t watched Blood of Youth because seeing the actor’s face triggers my fight-or-flight response. And it’s been years.
Bai Lin, the one racist to rule them all. The guy must have a handbook on “How to Be Racist” or something—how else could the contempt that spews from his mouth, the spark of repugnance in his eyes, and the brazen obstinacy in his opinions be so immaculate?
The entire drama consists of setting the stage for the full reveal of Bai Lin turning Luohou Jidu into a weapon of war to be used against his own people. By the time all the pieces fall into place, you’ve already witnessed the tragedy created by discriminatory practices between mortals. You've seen how Sifeng is targeted and Xuanji forced to move her hand against him. You've seen how the sects use their power to harm instead of help. You've seen how demons plot their revenge for centuries. Once Bai Lin is confirmed to be the genesis of all that, there’s nothing left for you to feel but utter revulsion.
Bai Lin: Celestial beings and demons cannot coexist. How could my Heavenly Realm possibly hold a marriage with the Devil Tribe? Luohou Jidu: Celestial beings and demons cannot coexist...Then why do you drink with me today? Why are you friends with me? Bai Lin: Naturally, Brother Jidu, you’re different from other demons and devils. Out of all the demons and devils in this world, Brother Jidu is my only friend.
Can’t believe he even pulls the "you’re one of the good ones" card.
Bai Lin, practitioner of unethical tactics: his ultimate decision to trick and use Luohou Jidu results from racism-induced paranoia. He simply can’t believe that his friend will remain his friend, not unless he becomes "one of us." He thinks the God of War should appreciate that he's given her power and invested his time and energy in her tenth reincarnation, going so far as fool her into thinking that they loved each other once upon a time. Once Xuanji shows herself capable of independent thought, he doesn’t hesitate in turning against her and manipulating her to destroy her own self. He eventually sacrifices the entire world for the Heavenly Realm's survival. After all, what's the value of an entire planet's human and demon population in the face of his power?
He's the representation of what happens when those in power, those who have the best chance of righting wrongs and preventing more from happening, decide to perpetuate the problem. At the same time, he presents the predicament that those we rely on to give us justice are also victims of their own emotions and fears.
I venture to say that Bai Lin is the best-written antagonist in modern xianxia. He’s ruthless but has a moral compass, albeit one that only points in one direction—toward himself. His hubris aside, you have to admit that he genuinely believes he's acting for the greater good. The ends justify the means because he thinks he’s bettering the world.
Bai Lin makes awful decisions that involve genocide and cruelty because he operates on a strict utilitarian philosophy. "I do what I think will bring the best results, even if it means sacrificing something huge in the process." He’s the most dangerous character and the person we should also fear in real life because he’ll stop at nothing to create his definition of a paradise.
It would be easy to dismiss him as simply being a bad person. However, this show draws from reality in that every person exists in a gray area between good and bad. You can lean one way or the other, but you don’t fall completely into either. And that’s the foundation of the show's conflicts. Everyone's so busy trying to define what’s right and wrong that they’ve lost sight of basic compassion.
When he’s finally faced with the consequences of his actions, Bai Lin is driven to despair. He feels true remorse over what he’s done, but only because he’s fortunate enough to actually witness how the thousand-year conflict wouldn't have existed without him. We as people aren’t so lucky—those “what if”s will forever remain in the shrouded realm of impossibility.
Heavenly Emperor: You always thought that evil had sparked in the hearts of the God of War and Luohou Jidu. But the one in whom evil truly sparked was you. All things and happenings in this world are originally empty. From emptiness comes meaning. Yin and yang reverse; they support and restrain one another. The Heavenly Realm was originally empty. The Asura, too, was empty. If all is empty, then how could the Heavenly Realm be superior; and the Mortal Realm, Demon Realm, and Devil Realm be inferior? Your excessive concern for the safety of the Heavenly Realm prompted evil to take root in your heart, unable to be undone.
Seeing him in such despair almost makes me feel bad for him. Maybe I do have too much sympathy.
At this point, it's already too late to repair the damage he's caused, a realization that causes him further anguish. He rids himself of his divinity to show his remorse and accepts death. But he's already caused so much pain to everyone else. Who can put back together the world that he's destroyed?
---
Part IV: Love Wins All
(We love IU for her perfect song that also gave me the best possible final section title.)
As I seek to be conscious of my own biases, I once wondered: why is it that shaking my head at a female character for being dedicated to a man comes so naturally to me, but I can’t be more gleeful to see Sifeng put his heart out on a platter for Xuanji? Perhaps I’m also sexist. Perhaps I have double standards.
Then I thought about it some more and realized everyone loves Sifeng because he’s so blatantly unrealistic that you’re immediately able to sink yourself into his fictional beauty. He transcends gender norms because there is no person of any gender who would go to the extent that he does for Xuanji, nor is there anyone who could remain as levelheaded when faced with some of the most shameless people known to mankind. Forget all the people flying on swords and uttering magic spells. The biggest absurdity in Love and Redemption is its male lead. Yes, I'm a skeptic. But we're so lucky to have him.
Sifeng grew up in a bizarrely backwards environment where—instead of girls needing to cover up to not attract men’s attention—all men need to protect themselves by wearing masks and not associating with the opposite sex. Brainwashed for years to believe that Lize Palace is the only safe space for golden fire birds like himself, he keeps cautious around people while still harboring a subconscious longing for their warmth.
In my entire life, I never knew what a "friend" is. I finally understand now, the meaning of "fervent friendship."
Sifeng is established as the loyal lover extremely quickly. He's whipped—figuratively and literally—for Xuanji, his sheltered childhood leaving him defenseless against her unintentionally flirtatious mannerisms. He teaches her about her lost senses without judgment, nurtures limitless patience with her and others by proxy, and isn't afraid to question the status quo.
We love Sifeng for his wisdom and levelheadedness. He sees things for what they are and is commonly the voice of empathy and reason within a world of selfishness. The entire show is Sifeng going, "I might as well do it myself" in every situation because no one else cares, is capable enough, or both. He's the guy in group projects who quietly does everything and doesn't even get mad that you're the most useless team member ever. What a saint.
In the xianxia universe, he's distinct husband material (which isn’t saying much since the bar there is so low that you'd need to dig yourself a grave to reach it—which is also great because then you already have a place to go once your xianxia spouse gets you killed. I digress). His loyalty to not only others, but also who he is and what he wants, leaves him able to counter the complacency with hatred and evil permeating the world around him.
With his endless empathy, he's able to understand Luohou Jidu. While Sifeng's earliest motivation in facing the greatest devil is only to save Xuanji, he later views Luohou Jidu as an individual with his own sufferings. He's the only one to truly view Luohou Jidu as himself, not someone to eliminate, not just an extension of Xuanji. To Sifeng, everyone deserves a chance to be heard before a verdict is passed over them.
Not to mention, these two’s interactions are absolutely hilarious. I wish I could've seen the extensive conversations that must’ve went on in the censorship agency over them.
Fellas, is it gay to clasp a guy’s hands within your own and stare deeply into his eyes while reminiscing about your loving relationship if he’s technically got a woman captive in his brain?
But perhaps what shines the brightest about Sifeng is how he suffers. He's so pretty when he suffers. Wait. That's not my point.
When his Lovers’ Curse triggers for the first time, Xiao Yinhua speaks the gospel that a lot of the audience probably has in mind: "you did so much for her, you were so good to her, but she doesn’t love you back." And it sounds kind of right? But also kind of not? Then Sifeng opens his mouth and you think, "oh, crap, I've been brainwashed by misogyny yet again."
She never asked me to like her. If someone wants to kill another just because she doesn’t reciprocate their feelings, then that person will never be loved. They also don’t deserve to love another.
Again and again, Sifeng puts himself in harm's way to keep loving Xuanji. Sure, he wants her to love him back, but that's secondary to his desire to be honest with his own feelings.
With the bright beacon of light that is Sifeng’s blinding love, I feel most viewers overlook Xuanji’s capabilities as a female lead. Her comparative passiveness in the relationship makes it seem as if she doesn’t love him enough. I attribute this to the same reason as our previous conclusions, that female characters in romance dramas have a harder time garnering the audience’s approval than their male counterparts. Are we innately more judgmental toward women, or is the standard for men still so low that we’re already impressed when a guy surpasses the bare minimum? Probably both.
It's easy to forget that Xuanji is the one who's nice to Sifeng first. When they first meet, Xuanji literally falls into his arms. Then he just…drops her. (And they say chivalry is dead.) But Xuanji doesn’t care.
The rules of his sect push Sifeng into being a bit of a porcupine in his demeanor. He puts up a wall against everyone, but especially Xuanji. After all, as an innocent boy, Sifeng needs to protect himself from evil women. Or something.
Xuanji is the one who can't take the hint tries to befriend him and tears down his wall with the gentle, graceful nature of a sledgehammer. She insists that she'll retrieve his lost mask because she knows it's important to him. When she discovers that Sifeng is punished over it, Xuanji is the one to point out how unfair it is. Her straightforwardness and sense of principle are the reason Sifeng begins to open up at all.
Xuanji: I’m the one who took off his mask. If you want to hit someone, hit me. [...] Not to mention, he almost died trying to get his mask back. So I'd like to ask you, Palace Leader, is Sifeng's life more important, or is that mask more important?
She knows no fear, so she doesn't consider emotionless rules to be worth anything if they cause pain for the people she cares about. In many ways, Xuanji is the one who teaches Sifeng to stand up for what he believes in.
That Xuanji lacks her six senses makes her the least susceptible to the prejudicial habits of her surroundings. She accepts what they believe, that demons are bad, but only because that's all she knows. Whereas most of her peers are content remaining in their ignorance, this supposedly heartless gal is curious about the world. She can easily abandon her preconceptions in favor of what she witnesses the world to be.
It takes constant practice and tests for Xuanji to completely shed her old beliefs. The introduction of Zi Hu marks the beginning of her growth. Xuanji, concerned and angry that Zi Hu is holding her friends captive, fully intends on killing the fox until Ting Nu reasons with her:
Ting Nu: Zi Hu isn’t a malicious demon. You shouldn’t threaten her life. Xuanji: But she kidnapped my friends. How can I spare her? [...] No. She did bad things, so I have to kill her. Ting Nu: [...] Zi Hu has never actually harmed anybody. She’s simply misguided by her anxieties. You should spare her life. […] If you discover that she’s actually committing malicious acts, you could kill her then, no?
If it were Minyan or Linglong in her position, you could bet that they'd ignore Ting Nu. For one, he's a merman, so of course he'd protect another demon. To Xuanji's credit, she really does give Zi Hu—and Ting Nu—the benefit of the doubt. Does she have to? No. But she does anyway.
If Sifeng’s love comes naturally, then Xuanji’s comes through determination. Who's to say that one is inherently better than the other? It takes ten lifetimes for her to understand a semblance of love. She wants dearly to understand what it means to "like" someone, even though she's already the least unafraid to show how much she cares about others.
After she successfully grows the heart light for Sifeng, I don't think anyone is more excited than Xuanji herself. Look how proud she is. Obviously, she's happy she can use it to protect him, but I imagine that she also views it as the clearest proof that she’s as human as anybody else and as capable of loving as anyone else. Sifeng may be stunned when the heart light disappears, but Xuanji falls despondent—she really wants Sifeng to be someone important to her.
People sometimes struggle to see past Xuanji’s initial naivety. They're especially harsh toward her for not seeing what Sifeng has sacrificed for her until it’s almost too late. It's true, the drama primarily favors Sifeng's perspective, so it's easy to only see what he’s done and ignore Xuanji’s efforts.
In spite of warnings from Sifeng himself to not do so, Xuanji emerges to save him from the third lash of the demon whip. You go, girl.
Love isn’t a competition. But for the sake of the discussion, let's say proof is needed that Xuanji’s effort in the relationship matches Sifeng’s. In that case, the important part is looking at what they sacrifice in a relative scope instead of an absolute one.
The things that Sifeng sacrifices are astronomical. He climbs a tower blustering with an eternal blizzard and puts on the Lovers' Curse mask. He stands right in the middle of the conflict between humans and demons even though there’s no way humans will spare him. He gets stabbed…a lot. But everything he does is a result of his own will and careful calculations—they’re all things he knows he can take responsibility for.
Sifeng's major flaw is that he's a massive liar. He's not right to lie, but he's also right to be scared about what would happen if he doesn't. As a demon, he knows what happens to anyone who isn't distinctly human. That's why he conceals his identity from Xuanji.
Then, once he discovers that Xuanji is also the reincarnation of the Star of Mosha, his fear is ignited again for her sake. Xuanji has almost always been defined by what she is, not who. She's berated for being useless when she doesn’t have her six senses. The moment she’s revealed to have the God of War's power, suddenly everyone finds her more than useful. If she's publicly revealed to be the Star of Mosha, then she'd be killed without question, and the person that is “Xuanji” will also cease to exist. Just as he doesn’t want Xuanji to view him and as anything other than himself, Sifeng doesn't want anyone else to view Xuanji as anyone other than herself. That's also why out of everyone, the one person he must keep the Star of Mosha secret from is Xuanji herself.
When Sifeng's lies begin to unfold, Xuanji is left to handle the mess he's inadvertently created. Suddenly discovering that he's a demon and also protective of the demon that possibly murdered her mother, Xuanji is torn. Her wavering faith in him isn't because of his identity, but because he lied to her.
Zi Hu: Do you dislike it that much, that [Sifeng] is a demon? Xuanji: Should I not? Zi Hu: Well, you healed my wounds. And you’re friends with me and Ting Nu, a merman. As for little Sifeng, he’s not a malicious demon who harms people. I don’t think he was aware of what went on with Tianxu Hall and Lize Palace. Xuanji: That’s different! He shouldn’t have lied to me. He’s the person I trust the most. But he even kept from me who he is. Then, all the things he told me and did with me in the past…what part of it all was real and what was fake? Zi Hu: What’s real and what’s fake? Can’t you just drag him over here and ask him? If he’s a scumbag, just kill him. But if there’s any misunderstandings, the two of you should clear them up. Resolve them and see what solutions there are. When two people are together, the scariest thing is misunderstanding one another for no reason. If you lose each other, that might be the end, forever. You’d regret that.
And then she eventually does try to kill him. Good going, Zi Hu.
Xuanji's main conflict in the latter half of the drama is that she wants to find a solution that satisfies everyone, an impossible dilemma. Everyone starts pressuring her to lead the charge against the demons. It's her duty as the God of War, isn't it? Oh, but if she doesn't want to, it's because she's in love with the enemy. But she can't be in love with the enemy. She's the God of War, after all.
That’s the duplicitous world that Xuanji lives in. Yet, without knowing why he's been dishonest or what else he could be lying about, she still chooses to believe in Sifeng—even if it means being treated as a traitor herself and being further guilt-tripped. She's bound to her duty, family, and the expectations that come along with that. Going against them in any capacity is a challenge to her entire livelihood and the moral standards imposed on her. If you take that into account, suddenly the things that she risks don’t pale in comparison what Sifeng does for her.
As an omniscient audience, it's easy for us to say that she doesn't do enough, that she should know better. It's an interesting thought experiment to wonder what else she could do in such a situation. Her boyfriend lies to her. She believes he has a reason, believes in him when he tells her to trust him. She defends him repeatedly to people who don't even care to listen unless it's to interrupt and call her crazy. She lies to her father that she'll devote herself to killing demons like Sifeng so they'll stop calling her crazy and threatening her. Then, when she goes to rescue Sifeng from Mingxia Cave, he's suddenly getting passive-aggressive with her: “oh, what does the mighty God of War need from a lowly demon like me that she deigns to talk to me?” Bro…if I were her, I might just ditch him in a fit of rage. That's how you want to play? Have fun turning into frozen poultry in this cave, then.
Obviously, more is going on behind the scenes that Xuanji is completely unaware of. Sifeng almost dies from her fire magic that Hao Chen stole. The broken hairpin. And okay, I'll admit that her saying that she'll kill him while he's eavesdropping outside is not a great look. But come on, Sifeng. Where have your critical thinking skills gone? If you can lie, don’t you think Xuanji can too? And after all that, she still instinctively shields him from her father’s sword.
Sifeng. In this case, I do have to criticize you in a serious manner. Do you have any idea how hard it was for Xuanji to finally try to get herself stabbed for you, only for you to go “no, me” and get stabbed again? Do you have a sword-magnet in your chest?
Then Sifeng tells her that he’s never loved her and was only using her because he’s Luohou Jidu, the world's biggest villain. And she still can't bear to hurt him. When Xuanji discovers that Hao Chen has tricked her into using a so-called “Purifying Vase” to doom Sifeng to a painful death, she's furious:
Xuanji: For my own good? You want me to practice the Method of Love, but you also want me to be heartless. I can’t be so contradictory. Hao Chen: I told you to practice the Method of Love through feelings between you and me, not for you to continuously absorb yourself in your fixation on Sifeng! Xuanji, don’t forget. Our marriage is one determined by the heavens. It’s destiny. Xuanji: The heavens determine nothing. If they do, then why did they make Sifeng and I meet in our past nine lives? What a joke of the heavens. Hao Chen: So, you’d rather resign yourself to your doomed fate with that demon than stay properly by my side? Xuanji: Fate isn’t split into a virtuous or doomed one. I hate myself for loving Sifeng before, and we won’t ever be together again. But since I already gave him my love, I won’t take it back.
But of course, Hao Chen has more tricks up his Mary Poppins sleeves. He pulls out all the stops and uses his last breath to manipulate her into stabbing Sifeng. Oh my god. Look at all these trust issues, just making themselves readily available.
Her stabbing him is, how do you say, very bad. But let’s be honest, she’s seen him survive worse. I don't have a nifty conclusion is here, but basically, she subconsciously knows he'll get over it (physically, at least).
Of course, Sifeng is heartbroken. It's intensified by the tragic fate of his father. His father’s goal was always to protect Sifeng from the dangers posed by the racist five sects, led primarily by fabricated memories that his lover Hao Feng was driven to suicide by her own family. When Yuan Lang reveals the truth, that Hao Feng's fear of demons trumped her love for her husband, it’s intense foreshadowing of Sifeng and Xuanji’s relationship. Maybe Xuanji isn't like Hao Feng and she can cross the rift between humans and demons, meeting Sifeng in the middle. But finally, she still retreats, away from him. Her betrayal, now the tenth in all their lifetimes, leads Sifeng to leave behind some of the most truthful but hurtful words for Xuanji to deal with:
I finally understand why my fate turned out as it did in all my past nine lives. From beginning to end, you have always been a heartless person.
It’s not fair to ask Sifeng to keep considering Xuanji’s feelings under the brunt of her violent wrath. But just as she has no idea what he’s been doing to protect her, he has no idea what she’s been doing to protect him. Zi Hu is right again: nothing poses a greater danger to a couple than misunderstandings. And racism.
The ultimate resolution only occurs once Xuanji recovers the memories of their past lives. Congratulations, Sifeng. After a millennium of pining, your love has finally touched the heart of your beloved. Indeed, it might take a long time getting there, but love will find a way.
I love the short scenes that show the God of War and Xi Xuan's quiet but gentle relationship. Xi Xuan is the only one who cares that the God of War wants her own identity, then gives her a moment in which she doesn't have to wear her armor, just as Sifeng does everything in his power to let Xuanji be "Xuanji." Through all their lives, Sifeng is the one who recognizes her for who she is and wants to make her happy, even if she doesn't have a heart.
Activate: Xuanji, shameless mode. After Xuanji tracks down Sifeng in his solitude, they return to their days as teenagers. Xuanji acts like a fool in front of him, demanding his attention, and Sifeng only wants to get her the hell out of his house. It's not only a reminder of the times when things were a lot simpler, but also of how far they've come.
She intends on marrying Sifeng. Even if her father doesn't approve, she no longer cares. There's not enough time left in the world to hesitate about the people you love to satiate someone who can't be satisfied. Just as Sifeng upends his whole life for her, she's willing to do the same.
And as Sifeng is dying, Xuanji makes the ultimate decision to become the Star of Mosha. This isn't a reckless move done just to save him. Rather, her faith in Sifeng has strengthened into steel after all they've been through. Even if the world ends, she knows that a little bird with unshakable resolve will come get her. For two people who have spent most of their time as a pair of parallel lines, never to coincide, this is their point of intersection—a challenge that they'll face together, even if they're apart.
Sifeng: Xuanji, stop! I'd rather die than watch you become a devil for me! Xuanji: Sifeng, I can't consider all that now. I have to save you! Whether I be the Star of Mosha or the God of War, I don't care. I just need you to be okay. Sifeng. If I become Luohou Jidu, you absolutely can't forget me. Remember to bring me back! I cry during this scene. Then I immediately start laughing at Sifeng's gobsmacked expression once Luohou Jidu shows up. It just reads "but...my girlfriend..."
And Xuanji's right. Sifeng is the solution. No one else can save Luohou Jidu, the God of War, and the world by extension. Luohou Jidu's pain results from being betrayed purely because of his identity as a devil, but Sifeng becomes the confidante that Bai Lin pretended to be. The God of War's pain comes from having no self-identity, but Xi Xuan gives her the ability to seek one and accompanies her for a thousand years to help her find it. The suffering that Bai Lin set into motion would lead to a ceaseless cycle of revenge and a destruction of the world’s good due to its sins, but Sifeng alone convinces Luohou Jidu and the God of War that there's something in life worth keeping. But you have to fight for it, and persistently, because good things only come to those who are willing to chase after them.
Xuanji to Bai Lin: I won’t mess with someone else’s life so simply due to my own matters, even if that person is someone as despicable as you. Sifeng once said that using hate to obtain vengeance is an endless cycle. In this life, I already have something that matters more to me than that. I have no space to keep my hatred.
I know it can sound cheesy to say that the best revenge is living a happy life. But Love and Redemption can convert even the most insistent of cynics—me, for example. People will practice evil whether or not there’s a reason for it and whether or not those consequences will ripple out into a tsunami that will engulf the world. Only true, honest love can hope to settle the uneasy sea. It’s why Zi Hu gives Wu Zhiqi something to live for other than war. It’s why Linglong and Minyan have a reason to persist alongside one another. It's why Luohou Jidu gives his heart and life to Sifeng. It’s why Sifeng is able to save Xuanji. It's why the three realms are blessed with the chance to keep finding a reason to persist.
Sifeng and Xuanji’s story is a journey of overcoming all odds; of learning to love someone unconditionally not because it’s easy, but because you want to; of letting that love grow into a ray of hope in the world. Yes, if we let it, love wins all.
Sifeng: Your heart has become one of flesh and blood. It couldn’t bear to destroy the three realms. Because…it’s a heart that I held and warmed in my hands, bit by bit.
#love and redemption#琉璃#scribbles*#originally this was only going to be about the racism#then the further i got the more i thought “well you can't just talk about the racism and not everything else”#and after adding “everything else” i figured i might as well do a sifeng/xuanji relationship analysis while i was at it#so here we are#it's below 10k words though :D so still bite-sized? ...lol
99 notes
·
View notes