#it made so much sense when he held up my shoe sole lmao
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FFXIV Write 2023 || FFXIV Write info\\Prompt list\\Character info \\Master post ||
Prompt 27: Sole
the section forming the underside of a piece of footwear (typically excluding the heel when this forms a distinct part).
Character(s): N'noah Wiloh, and cameos of Scions and my friend's ocs Cw: none Word count: 650 Notes: I thought I'd go with a different definition for this one at first and do a little angsty post but then I thought it would be fun to re-create an actual thing that happened to me when I worked at my old job so here is so silliness based off true events!
If there was one thing N’noah did a lot of since she joined the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, it was walking. She very much enjoyed traveling to all the new places and meeting all the new people but why was it she couldn’t report back to them over linkshell after all was said and done? Every task wasn’t complete until she made the long trek from the Crystal in Horizon to Vesper Bay where HQ was.
[Go assist with this beast tribe [and try not to let the Slyphs trick you into dancing for them for two bells straight again]
Pray return to the Waking Sands.
Go help fight off this primal [but not actually because you don’t have the echo and no protection against being tempered so you usually keep the tempered ones at bay while Kien, Blaise, and Tokki deal the major damage.]
Pray return to the Waking Sands.
Attend the City-State meeting in Ul’dah [and try not to fall asleep out of boredom because they tend to drag on longer than necessary sometimes]
Pray return to the Waking Sands.
Go to this place....and...well, you get the point.]
That walk alone seemed to do her in the most–why they hadn’t thought to put the HQ closer to a teleportation crystal was beyond her. She was fairly certain that was one of the reasons why her favorite pair of boots were beginning to show their wear and tear–she could feel the rubber underside becoming looser and looser from the leather shoe everytime she wore them. Still, she stubbornly told herself she’d give it just a little longer before she attempted to repair them or gods forbid, replace them.
Alas, some things aren’t meant to be.
It was a very hot day in Thanalan when she once again teleported to Horizon and began the walk back to the Waking Sands after another successful, yet admittedly, boring meeting. [She was beginning to wonder if she was cut out for this or should just stick to adventuring on her own but that was a quarry for another time] Everyone else was already there but she didn’t rush–the rest of the day was open so she had every intention to just enjoy a leisure walk back to kick off the rest of her afternoon off.
The walk there felt…off. The sole of her left boot kept dragging more than usual so she attempted to pick up her feet a little more with each step in hopes that would further delay the inevitable. By the time she got down the stairs and into the main hallway of the Waking Sands, she noticed her left shoe was missing the underside entirely now, which meant she had truly worn out the boots until the last of its life.
“Ah well,” N’noah sighed, more amused than anything. “It was bound to happen I suppose.” Guess the answer of repair or replace was obvious. She wasn’t entirely sure when the underside of her shoe finally fell off but she didn’t really feel like going back out in the heat to investigate so she wandered into the common room and sat down at a table with Kien, Blaise, and Yda, casually sliding into the conversation.
Thancred entered the room a moment later stopping short in front of the tables with a very amused yet bewildered expression. “Did someone lose their sole by chance?” When his question gained the attention of the room, the Hyur held up a brown rubber underside of what appeared to belong to a small boot.
N’noah brightened, popping up from her seat. “Oh! That’s mine! You found it!”
The Scions nearby couldn’t help the chuckles of amusement as Thancred shuffled over to her and set the sole in her outstretched hands. “I think it might be time for some new shoes, Noah.”
N’noah laughed in agreement. “Yes, I think that might be a good idea.”
#ffxivwrite2023#ffxivwrite#day 27 sole#ffxiv#kien eilath#final fantasy xiv#n'noah wiloh#ffxiv miqo'te#a realm reborn#ffxiv writing#ffxiv fanfiction#nico writes#N'noah is closest to my personality so she was perfect for this recreation of events#when my coworker asked if someone lost their sole we thought he meant soul and we all looked up#like bro yeah we did look at where we work XD#it made so much sense when he held up my shoe sole lmao
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Self Care (M)
omega!renjun
wc: 4.8k
synopsis: renjun decides to take on his first heat the best way he knows how, as luxuriously as possible.
cw: smut...a lot of it. in immense detail. sex toys, pornography, multiple orgasms, unrealistic amounts of cum, stomach bulge, male squirting/watersports (depending on what you consider squirt to be lmao), overstimulation, cum eating, dildo sucking, mentions of fictional heat related illnesses, america-centric world building, a bitch with no friends attempting friendly dialogue.
a/n: well here it is! first full fic. believe it or not this was meant to be no longer than 1k, then i realized i get kinda pissed when fics don't include enough context for elements in the fic so i'd be a hypocrite if i didn't paint a likely unnecessarily vivid picture. feedback is much appreciated!
we love u very dearly junnie B💛
❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈
The sound of the dryer finishing its freshly washed load of delicates interrupted his fifth run through of his checklist. “Ok, let’s see….lube? Check. Waterproof blankets? Check. Three hour long Alpha on Alpha porn playlist? Check.” Renjun finally sighed with relief. It’s not everyday he obsesses over the amount of lube he has in his arsenal (he restocks his eight oz bottle of sliquid sassy every eight weeks on the dot), but it’s a special occasion. The special occasion.
He rebukes the term “late-bloomer”, despite the average age for an omega’s first heat occurring around eighteen. Renjun has always justified his lack of mating cycles with his ever present practicality. “You were absolutely ridiculous for a week straight until your heat broke.” He recalls to Donghyuck during their semi-regularly scheduled facetime catch-up they’ve adopted post grad school.
“I had so much going on freshman year, it would’ve made no sense for me to have to deal with a heat. Twenty-four is a way better age anyways, my prefrontal cortex is like eighty-five percent done, I can actually handle my brain being scrambled eggs for five days”. He says passively, ignoring the unimpressed look coming from the boy on the other side of the phone.
He unfortunately remembers the horrors of hearing Donghyuck’s first heat through their paper mache dorm room walls when they were eighteen, and the next heat three months later, and the next eighteen heats he endured as Donghyuck’s roommate. He’s convinced the boy has had enough heats for the both of them, especially considering Renjun was held solely responsible for ensuring his dear friend didn’t die of hunger or dehydration through them. It's a thankless job, but someone had to do it.
“Right, so I guess twenty-four is also the age where you’re finally gonna finish growing huh? Prime time to finally reach big boy height.” Donghyuck quips back, taking a break from grading assignments to goad the blonde boy giving him a deadpan stare through the phone.
“Bitch you’re literally 5’6 1/2 what are you talking about?” Renjun retorts, “it’s no way you’re calling me short when you just complained about how you cant find shoe lifts in canada.” Donghyuck widens his eyes in shock. “Talking about shoe lifts when you just begged me to ask Doyoung if he could hem those jeans 6 inches shorter is crazy work Renjun.”
They continue their childlike bickering over their similarly petite frames for an unreasonable amount of time, before Donghyuck remembers the real reason for today’s meeting. “Ok but seriously, how are you feeling about this whole thing? I know it’s kinda a lot at once, be honest with me?” Donghyuck starts. He woke up two days ago to Renjun’s frenzied calls, knowing his friend was well aware that waking hours for him in Atlanta were still Donghyuck’s “dead to the world” hours in Vancouver, he was for certain there was an actual emergency.
Renjun had woken up with a pounding headache, abdominal cramps, and the unsettlingly wet mouth feel that comes right before vomiting. He knew what that meant, but refused to actually confront what was happening until Donghyuck got a look at him and convinced him to go to the omega urgent care. Donghyuck sat on the phone with him while he waited for the doctor, cheered as Renjun got the confirmation he was in pre-heat (much to Renjun’s dismay), and helped him pick the best painkillers to aid his cramps and headache. It was the best he could do from another country, fighting the urge to book a flight to go support his best friend in what’s easily the most important event in an omega's life. His husband only barely managed to convince him it was unnecessary and that they could just send him a nice care package in the mail on expedited shipping, Mark was always the level headed one in the relationship.
Renjun sighed before he could answer. “To keep it one-hundred percent real with you, I’m terrified. Like am I gonna be okay? What if I fuck up somehow and I end up never being able to have kids or something insane? Anything could happen?” Renjun said, ever the worrywort and full of trepidation about new experiences. Donghyuck scoffed, rolling his eyes at the catastrophization of the world’s most natural activity. “Friend, how could you possibly fuck up jerking off? You’ve had a solid twelve years of experience for this, relax!” Renjun shut his eyes and huffed in annoyance, “Obviously that’s not what I’m worried about idiot. I’m worried that I won’t be able to actually satisfy myself through the whole thing, and you know what happens if I can’t be fully satisfied.” Donghyuck sighs in acknowledgement.
Continuous Heating Syndrome, colloquially known as a heat frenzy, is a rare but unfortunate side effect of a heat that goes unsatiated. Nonstop migraines, vomiting, loss of motor function, seizures, or shit...even worse. Donghyuck has heard horror stories of omegas having perfectly normal heats that turn into three week stints at the hospital after they couldn’t break. Scary shit. Rare for all omegas, but increasingly likely for an unmated omega without consistent access to a knot, a category which Renjun unfortunately falls into. “Look at it this way” Donghyuck starts, “It’s not like you have no options at all. You don’t necessarily have to do this alone.” Renjun grimaces. He knows exactly where Donghyuck is going with this, and he’s not even remotely here for it.
“I’m not calling the heat hotline.” Renjun was scared, not desperate. He had no reason to hire a random Alpha who needed extra money to come fuck him for five days straight, he could figure something else out for sure. “Oh girl please!” Donghyuck exclaims, “That’s literally exactly what you need right now! They’re super strict about testing so you won’t have to worry about that, plus it’s covered by your insurance? What is the issue?” Renjun rolls his eyes, ‘The issue is that you think i’m supposed to just randomly fuck the first alpha who doesn’t look like he snuck on the planet just to stop myself from going into a coma, I have options bitch!”
Donghyuck scoffs, “Sure you do. Is now the time when Jen and Jae finally jump through the screen of their newest edging scene to keep you company through your heat? Porn only takes you so far, friend.” Renjun hates that Donghyuck knows him well enough to know he’s been anxiously scouring his favorite alpha pornstars’ onlyfans to find some semblance of relief through his rapidly approaching week of agony. “I have toys! So many toys! I don’t need an alpha at all, I have like six different vibrating cocks to choose from” Renjun grumbled. He was a fully self sufficient twenty-four year old omega who doesn’t need an alpha! Or so he continues to force himself to believe.
“If you’re gonna be stubborn about it, the least you can do is be safe.” Donghyuck says, his worried expression softening the defensive stance Renjun has adopted. “You do have someone nearby right? Just in case you need someone to check in on you in person?” “Of course, Yangyang and Chenle are in the building down the street, if I need a restock on anything or if I start overheating and dying I can call them.” Renjun replies, in an attempt to calm his friend from his concerns. “You’re not gonna die girl. Especially since I found the perfect thing to help you out!” Donghyuck beams, giving Renjun his signature “I’ve done something I know you won’t like but I’m smart enough to know it’s what you need" look.
“Is it a dick? Don’t buy me a dick Hyuck I swear to god.” Renjun says, “Is that what you’ve been doing this whole time? Dick shopping instead of feeling sorry for me? I can't believe this.” “If it makes you feel better it’s not a dick, you have so many other ones another would be excessive, even for me. You’re gonna love it though! All those fears of heat frenzy are gonna go right out the window!” Renjun eyes the brunette through the screen suspiciously, Donghyuck’s odd enthusiasm has been the catalyst to multiple cautionary tales Renjun is saving for his grandkids. Now might be the worst time to let his guard down. “I swear to god, if it’s something weird i’m sending it back and getting a restraining order.” Donghyuck giggles in nefarious delight, “It’ll be at your doorstep in two days!” Renjun groans in horror.
Renjun is shaken from his daydream riddled with Donghyuck’s alarming cackles by the sound of the doorbell being rang for the fourth time. “Oh! Coming, coming, so sorry!” He yells out, rushing to the front door to see his instacart delivery driver struggling to hold Renjun’s last minute groceries. The poor guy takes a deep breath and tries not to look nearly as phased as he is by Renjun’s sweet bergamot scent. “I-I wasn’t able to find the caramel pecan cookies, so I got you an extra box of kitchen sink cookies, I hope that’s ok?” The man stutters, clearly fighting the urge to comment on what smells like the sweetest omega he’d ever met. “Oh no worries! Thank you so much, they always go out of stock pretty quick.” Renjun replies, now increasingly aware of the alpha’s growing nervousness and intensified teakwood scent.
He hurries to grab the groceries from the boy and set them on his kitchen counter. “Here you go!” Renjun says, handing over his nice ten percent tip for the guy’s troubles. “T-T-Thank you!” he replies, after making a horribly obvious attempt at trying to inhale as much of Renjun’s residual scent on the ten dollar bill. Renjun awkwardly waves him goodbye, and closes the door of his apartment asking whichever deity that watches over him why he couldn’t have already been mated to avoid having to endure that. The plights of a single omega, he thinks to himself, now rapidly moving towards his kitchen to take final inventory.
His heat is scheduled to begin sometime tonight, made clear by his overwhelming scent and his unbearable body temperature. He’s already considered turning his air conditioner up higher, but realizing that his poor plants would hate to live in a house that’s fifty-five degrees for a week straight, he suffers in a scantily clad haze. He’s stocked up with seven cases of water, four boxes of cookies, six frozen pizzas, and three family sized bags of chicken nuggets. His poor air-fryer will be working overtime this week, Renjun is fully prepared to only have twenty minutes of energy between heat spikes to keep himself semi-sufficiently nourished. He grabs an armful of waters and sports drinks he’d picked up earlier that week to carry them to his room. He placed them next to the other small snacks he’d put in his mini fridge conveniently sitting next to his nest, there was no way he’d be able to make it to the kitchen after the first few rounds and immediate hydration was a non-negotiable.
Renjun took a moment to be proud of himself. He was a single omega preparing for the most intense and important event of his life. All those incredibly awkward sex-ed lessons he endured in middle school, and the trauma-inducing nights spent handing Donghyuck and Mark bottles of gatorade and fruit snacks while trying to avoid seeing any genitals had finally led up to this moment. Renjun was fully prepared. Renjun was gonna be okay.
His doorbell rings again. This time unexpectedly. He opens the door to find another delivery man, this time an omega, Renjun can tell by the soft lavender scent. “Order for Renjun Huang?’ The man asks. Renjun grimaces at the horrifically American butchering of his name, giving a pleasant but unsure smile. “Yes! That’s me” Renjun replies, taking a look at the ominously large box the man is holding. "Great, sign here please” He grumbles, trying to make quick work of what Renjun can only presume is his last delivery of the day. Renjun makes quick work of scribbling his signature on the dotted line, before mumbling a quick thank you and grabbing the box. It’s oddly heavy, which wouldn’t be too concerning, until he took a closer look at the label and read ‘From: Mark and Donghyuck ♡,” in Donghyuck’s messy half cursive half print handwriting.
“Oh dear god” Renjun thinks, now the weight of the box is a genuine cause for concern. He heaves the box to his counter and takes a deep breath before cutting it open. Much to his surprise, it’s all normal nice things. He pulls out a box of the maple cookies Renjun became obsessed with when Mark brought them back a box after returning to campus from his thanksgiving break in Vancouver, the ones Renjun was pissed to find out aren’t available in Atlanta. He sees a stuffed bear and stuffed cheetah wrapped in plastic, Renjun pulls them out to admire the resemblance to his dear friends before he realizes they were both scented like Hyuck and Mark. Renjun could just cry. He felt so loved and cherished by his best friend, how loving and thoughtful Donghyuck always was despite being a smug piece of shit ninety percent of the time. He’s been wanting nothing more than to experience one of their “cuddle puddles”, that while Renjun would always protest, he secretly loved. He pulls out a lovely soft yellow blanket with pretty little ruffles on the ends, perfect to go in his nest for added comfort. Wrapped in the blanket is a little note:
“You’re gonna have a great time Junnie! Don’t overthink things, just relax and enjoy the ride! We love you so very much! - Hyuckie and Markie”
Renjun is tearing up, his friends love him so much, he’s gonna be okay! Then he sees another box at the bottom, hidden by the blanket and other gifts before it. He shimmies the black box out of the larger brown one and places it on the counter, now able to get a full look at what the picture on the box is displaying. The tears instantly dry. The feelings of love and admiration are replaced with immediate annoyance.
In a scary showcase of friendship telepathy, his phone rings, lighting up with the picture Donghyuck took of his flared nostrils freshman year. Renjun sighs, then answers the phone. “Why would you buy me a fuck machine?” Renjun stares into the phone, hoping to look as menacing as he can in a hello kitty headband holding his blonde strands from his face. “I see you got our present.” Donghyuck replies, shit eating grin so intense his lips were threatening to split apart. “I told you I had just the thing in mind for your heat girlie!” Renjun huffs with the full intent to call Donghyuck everything but a child of god, but he’s getting hotter and the throbbing between his legs is getting more intense. Tonight he chooses peace. “In seven days you’ll begin to cough” he says, and hangs up the phone to let out a loud exasperated grunt.
Now the real preparation begins. Renjun walks over to his dryer and pulls out his satin robe he’d freshly washed for the occasion. He makes his way over to his bathroom to begin the most intense shower he’s had since his last failed date with an alpha he met on Wolfr. “Nice dick, horrendous vibes.” Renjun shudders at the memory. “Maybe that’s just how guys from Connecticut are? Connecticut is barely a real place, who cares.” He pauses his internal monologue for a moment to place a vanilla scented shower steamer in the corner of the tub. He lights himself a few overpriced indie candles he got from a small business bazaar in the city, and starts easing himself out of his tiny shorts.
He takes his time pulling the silky fabric of his briefs, gently coaxing his dick out of the fabric. He shudders at the cold air hitting his half-hard cock, sending shivers up his spine and another light stream of slick out of his tip. “Fuck,” He moans softly, entirely too aroused for his own good. He pulls his shirt over his head, shuddering again when the air hits his puffy swollen nipples. He takes the time to get a full look at himself in the full size mirror. “Fuck I’m hot. No wonder that Alpha almost popped his knot earlier,” Renjun smiles to himself confidently.
He makes his way into the shower, taking a deep breath of the warm vanilla scent circling him, meshing wonderfly with his own light citrusy aroma. The hot water of the shower electrifies Renjun’s body, he takes a moment to soak in the amazing feeling of the heat comforting his aching limbs. He starts with his favorite lemon and honey scented body wash to begin carefully massaging his arms and chest with the warm and fruity bubbles.
The sensation of the lather was already driving him crazy, absolutely loving the way his hands gilded seamlessly over his hips and ass. Renjun wasn’t normally the type to be so turned on by his own body, he guesses it’s just the excess hormones making any sight of bare skin immensely arousing. He snaps out of his hormone induced stupor to remember that he has a whole shower routine to get through, so he gives his soft chest a final squeeze, then moves back under the welcoming stream of the water to rinse himself clean. He grabs his body scrub and locks in for the remainder of his shower.
Renjun emerges in a cloud of sugary citrus air, intoxicating even to himself. He wraps himself in his gold satin robe, and makes his way to his vanity for his finishing touches. Renjun digs through his copious amounts of products to find the expensive body oil he’s been saving for this very occasion. He strips off his robe, and starts massaging the oil into his skin, starting at his legs. Every dip his fingers make into his skin brings him closer to ecstasy. Closer to what he knows is gonna be the most intense feeling of his life. He’s just barely finished rubbing himself down when he starts leaking a new stream of slick from his puckered asshole.
“Oh shit, that must mean it’s about to be time huh?” He figures, moving to wrap his robe around him yet again to avoid his neighbors getting a free show through his open blinds. He draws the curtains, dims the lights, and connects his television to his laptop for an optimized viewing experience. He already has his nightly entertainment pulled up, three hours of Jen and Jae’s best material. Nothing that riles Renjun up more than seeing an alpha take a eleven inch dick like he was made for it.
He settles into the spot he carefully carved into his nest, when he lays his eyes on the pretty yellow blanket Donghyuck sent him in his care package. Then he thinks about what else was present in the care package. He pauses for a second, thinking about how he actually hadn’t even taken the fuck machine out of the box. “Well obviously I didn’t take it out the box, I’m not giving Hyuck the satisfaction of knowing I used a toy he gave me,” Renjun thinks to himself. Then again, it’s not as if Hyuck has to know Renjun used it. Then again, it’s not as if using it could be a bad idea, Renjun considers.
He drags himself out of bed to collect the box from the kitchen counter, setting it down on his bed as he begins to actually open the machine. He definitely recognizes the machine, it’s pretty famous among omega content creators due to its lightweight build and convenient suction cup base to accommodate any dildo the user pleases. He looks over at the extended assortment of toys he’s curated for tonight’s events: a vibrating fleshlight for his cock and three different dildos in ascending length and thickness for his differing stages of need. Renjun felt his hole flutter with excitement as another gush of slick slid down his thighs.
He thinks about it for a moment, considering how much nicer it'd be if he didn’t have to be responsible for thrusting his toys in and out of his slicked hole. He decides to use the suction cup base of the fuck machine to attach it to the headboard of his bed, checking the height of his placement to ensure it would be the perfect height for him to comfortably get backshots from the toy. If he’s desperate enough for it he, reasons, first choosing to hold off from letting Donghyuck be right about something for as long as possible. With the machine firmly secured, Renjun settles back into his comfy spot in the nest. He takes off his robe, presses play on his laptop, and reaches for his fresh bottle of lube to start massaging his warm cock.
He’s 10 minutes into watching Jae eat Jen’s ass when Renjun finally has his first orgasm. His little heaves and moans fill the room as he milks himself of his well deserved release. “Ooh…ahh…ahh...fuck!” He shouts, pulling himself further into overstimulation as his vision starts to haze over. He’s laying in a puddle of hot slick, constantly pumping out more and more as he keeps toying with his cock. He’s using his other hand to pump his fingers furiously in his asshole, loving the searing sensation of his hole stretching over his digits. “Mmm fuck...fuck, ooh make him cum Jae” he moans, picturing himself as the pornstars’ third wheel in their bedroom.
He realizes his hands aren’t gonna cut it though, he releases his cock from his vice grip and winces as he pulls his fingers from his ass to grab his fleshlight and the smallest dildo from the pile. “Oh shit,” he hisses, feeling that same intoxicating stretch to the next degree as he tries to slip the seven inch toy deep inside. He needs another large squirt of lube to get the job done, a sign he hasn’t completely gone into heat quite yet, letting his semi-delirious brain know he still has some semblance of self-control.
He pours another squirt of lube directly into the fleshlight, giving it a few pumps with his fingers, and then using those same fingers to pump his cock, before squeezing his drained but solid dick into the tight slippery hole. He’s fully entranced in the sensations of his body now, leaking so much slick his toy keeps slipping out of his hole. The throbbing between his legs is reaching an ungodly peak, rushing his second orgasm into him like a train. “Ahhhh FUCK,” he screams, feeling the pulse of his prostate send him into overdrive. His cum and slick is pooling at the base of his dick, overflowing the fleshlight and adding to the lewd sounds deafening his ears.
He makes a move to turn up the vibrations on the toy, barely getting a chance to move his hand from the button before the pulse of his third release shakes him to the core. Renjun is completely lost at this point, barely aware of anything around him other than his seemingly never ending fountain of cum and the hypnotic sights and sounds of his favorite muscle bottom getting dicked within an inch of his life. God he wishes that was him taking alpha meat. Then he remembers it totally can be him. He grabs the biggest dick he owns, neglecting any more prep that the fifteen minutes of intense pounding hasn’t provided, and sticks the heavy dildo to the waiting base of the fuck machine.
He positions himself comfortably in front of the plastic cock, taking a moment to admire his mess on his satin sheets. “S-Shit…ohhh fuck,” he hisses as he shoves the toy into his ass. He barely gives himself a moment to adjust before he reaches for the remote to start the lowest thrusting pattern, desperate for the feeling of his hole getting stretched to its limits. Renjun lets out a low groan while the toy picks up speed. He clicks it up to the second level and jolts as the tip of the cock starts hitting his prostate. “Ohhhhhhhhhhhh,” he groans, spilling more slick onto his sheets and sliding into his fourth orgasm, leaving his mind completely broken. He sets his fleshlight to its highest vibration and suction level, and shakes himself into another release.
If he had any ability to think critically he would be concerned for the amount of fluid leaking into his mattress, considering he’d completely forgotten to lay down the waterproof blankets he was so intent would save him a massive cleaning bill, especially since the cock in his ass causes another surge of slick to shoot from his hole. Nearing delirium, Renjun decides the dual stimulation still isn’t enough. He wants even more, he needs even more.
The smell of his slick and cum is intoxicating, leaving his brain just as fried as the underpaid alpha that nearly sprung a leak at his door earlier. He grabs the smaller dildo that he used to work his ass open at the start of his playtime, and gave it a slow lick from the balls to the tip. Tasting himself on the toy made his next orgasm even harder, sucking the head of the dildo like it was an actual alpha. Throating the cock to it’s hilt like Jae himself was fucking his throat. Renjun was officially in heat, too spent to think, and too horny to care.
With the last bit of his reflexes he has left, he manages to switch the fuck machine to it’s highest setting, and prepares himself for the ride of his life. “Ohhhhh Shit! Oh Shit! Fuckkkkkk,” he stutters, forming the last coherent phrases he’ll be saying for a while. His head is absolutely pounding, reality is bending, and all he knows is fact are the loud moans he and Jen are churning out along with the surge of energy rushing through his ass and cock. “Ahh oh my god, oh my god,” he screams, ushering himself into otherworldly realms of pleasure.
His cock is being milked to extremes he didn’t know were possible, the pumping motions of the fleshlight sending streams of cum all over his balls and thighs from where the toy could no longer hold his load. He groans as the cock in his ass pounds into his prostate, sending him further into the orgasmic spiral he has no intention of leaving. He’s coming down from his tenth orgasm when he finally decided to give his dick a break, pulling the toy milking him for the last two hours off his cock and throwing it to the side, in the interest of laying face down ass up, fully submitting to the plastic cock he’s worshiping with every fiber of his being.
He can barely make any sounds other than small gurgles when he starts craving his own musk again, grabbing the fleshlight and sticking his tongue as deep as he can into the sopping wet hole, basking in the scent of his pleasure. He slurps up his essence as he feels his ass getting tighter, the dildo seemingly rutting rougher and rougher to break through his grip. He slides himself back even further on the toy, taking all eleven inches impossibly deep, crying out at the feeling of his stomach bulging from the cock mixing up his guts. Renjun is lost in the vortex of his heat, unable to do anything but scream in pleasure in between licking his fleshlight like it’s a real asshole, when he feels it.
His eyes go wide, his ass locks up around the plastic knot completely, the overwhelming pleasure forcing his body to mate with the cock rearranging him. The toy stops moving in and out, too suffocated by Renjuns slick walls to complete a full cycle of motion, instead sending deep thuds of pressure directly on his prostate. His eyes start rolling back as his body starts convulsing, unable to control his movements. His loud moans turn to deafening screams when a long stream of clear liquid shoots from his cock. He cries out in pleasure as he lets out endless gushes of liquid, soaking through whatever parts of his mattress weren’t already sticky with slick. His voice starts to taper off into quieter whines, soon after, Renjun’s vision goes black.
Renjun wakes up thirty minutes later, slightly less attached to the toy. Its batteries must’ve died sometime between him squirting and passing out, but Renjun has little recollection of anything that occurred once his first heat spike hit. He hears the faint sound of his pornstars giving each other aftercare from what must’ve been a similarly intense scene in the background, figuring he should follow in Jen’s footsteps and have a bottle of water.
He rolls over in his nest, taking in the absolutely ruined state of his bed, along with the extremely satisfied feeling in his body. “Woah,” he thinks, “I gotta get Hyuck a Waffle House gift card or something.”
#renjun smut#huang renjun smut#whew chile#nct smut#nct dream smut#i promise this wasn't supposed to be this long lmaoooo#junnie b<333#ieezysfics#omegaverse smut#nct a/b/o
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Mine [Kuroo Tetsurou]
Read with caution LMAO
Voices. The voices that rang through the corridors of their school. Kuroo Tetsurou only let out a sigh as he walked to his classroom, but the peace he wanted was impossible to obtain. He was unable to get his night rest and his head began to throb due to the lack of sleep. He paid no attention to the surrounding students. They should be seated now - he thought to himself. “Ah, Kuroo san!” the said male turned his head to see Yamamoto Taketora. “What is it?” He asked. He observed his underclassman. He noticed at that moment that he was not in his school uniform but in his tracksuit. He was confused at first, but in a mere second, he realized that he forgot about their morning training. “Shoot, I forgot about it. Come on!” He said and they ran to their locker room. The matter slipped his mind, he hoped to be saved from a reprimand. Maybe it was the fatigue from the previous night - he wondered. “Kuroo, you’re late!” Yaku scolded him. He tucked his shirt in his shorts and he was ready. So were the others, Kuroo was the only one left to change, and he did. He took off his sleeveless vest before he undid his tie, he heard the casual conversation they began while they waited. He was not interested in their conversation, rather he felt the need to regain his focus and wake himself up before he made unnecessary mistakes that only Haiba Lev was capable of. Once he took off his dress shirt, his torso was left bare and he felt a chill down his spine. Winter was around the corner. It took a minute for him to realize that he had several eyes on his figure. He saw them stare at him, rather they stared at his left arm and left side. He sensed the curiosity and worry, but he said no word and waited for them to speak. “Kuroo, what happened? You have cuts all over your left side!” Kai remarked and all of them were quiet, even Kozume Kenma was in disbelief. He never saw his friend in such a state, and to say that he was alarmed and preoccupied was the least. “Oh, this?” He ran his cold fingers over the injury on his arm, it made him wince but he smiled at his team. He tried to reassure them that it was nothing to be worked up about. “I played with a little kitten yesterday, but she began to misbehave when I took her in my arms.” and those words were enough to dissolve their concern, instead it was replaced by laughter and a small scold from their libero. “Kuroo san, you should know better than that!” “Kuroo, what if those injuries cost you to perform poorly?!” Kuroo just joined in their laughter and began to respond to Yaku, mockery in his words. However, Kenma was silent, he observed his friend from the corner of his eye and a frown was on his face. He knew that his reason was dishonest, but he preferred to not voice out his thoughts. After all, it was a matter that should never be said out loud. It was a problem to train when one has their body covered in scratches and Kuroo Tetsurou confirmed the statement. It was a hassle to block, but he endured the pain and to prevent any inconvenience, he never uttered a word although it was taking a toll on his stamina. “Ah, Christmas is coming. I really don’t want to spend another Christmas alone.” Yamamoto began, the frivolous conversation was a normal occurrence when they had a break. “Yamamoto senpai, you have your family though! So you’re not alone, what are you saying?” Lev interjected, and he gave him a dead stare. Shibayama sensed the tension and dangerous aura their ace had and braced himself. “That’s not what I meant!” he shouted and threw his water bottle at him. A collective laughter once more erupted among the group while Lev tried to defend himself from his upperclassman, but the whole ordeal was short-lived and the attention was put on their captain. “Kuroo san, aren’t you popular among girls?” He began “I mean I always hear them talk about you. Don’t you have a girlfriend? At least someone you like?” It was meant as an innocent and curious question, but it was a topic that, mainly from their ace, they often discussed when their captain was nowhere to be seen. They never really saw him interact with the other gender, unless it was related to school. What they expected to see was not the current reaction they witnessed: his face began to grow red, he leaned his face on the palm of his hand and he averted his gaze. He felt his heart restless in his chest. The gym was quiet, they were in awe. Kuroo Tetsurou, their captain who was infamous due to his provocative words and actions, the one who often teased people for amusement, the one who was always confident in his own self was silent and moreover, embarrassed. The silence was broken the moment Kuroo gave a soft hum as a response. An uproar it was for the following minutes. They had to hear the story. It was exhaustive, he never felt such exhaustion before. He was now in class, his usual seat at the back of the room next to the window. It was Japanese literature, but he paid no attention to the professor that conducted the lesson. “Hey, [L/N] has been absent for a week now. Is she sick?” “Now that you mention it, even Kimura has been missing for a week.” “Do you think it has something to do with [L/N]?” “What? You mean they eloped?!” “Quiet!” The group of students were quick to dissolve their conversations. Kuroo Tetsurou felt himself bite his lower lip. He felt a discomfort, a sensation that was solely identified as jealous, form in his chest. It somewhat irritated him to no end, their constant gossip and mischievous words, they should all just be quiet because all they do was put malice in all matter knowing nothing. His eyes were now on the empty desks in front of him, one belonged to [L/N] and one next to it belonged to Kimura. Oh how Kuroo hated him, they only talked on a few occasions but he never missed it. The way he looked at [L/N], those eyes disgusted him and wished them to be gone. However, his gaze soften when he looked at the desk where the [h/c] sat for three whole years. It was her favourite seat. He was a little embarrassed to admit that he always picked the seat behind her, but he felt happy that way. He was able to look at her whenever he wanted. Her sweet smile, her soft hair that smelled of [favourite scent] and her beautiful eyes that were so bright. It always made the butterflies in his stomach out of control. She was perfect to him. He wanted to kiss her but the fact that he was unable to made him sad. But it would not be long. "I'm home." The black haired male said to nobody in particular, a response was the last thing he expected, only silence answered. It had been a while since he heard his parents but he was not bothered by their absence. The house was cold and dark, but it was already evening so it was a given for it to be in those conditions. He discarded his shoes at the front door and made his way to his bedroom, he wanted to rest after a long day of physical and intellectual activity. He opened the door to his room and he smiled. He was finally at peace. He settled his bag on the floor, near his bed and he sat next to it and afterwards he reached for the remote control and turned on the TV. There was nothing much to see during the early evening. A soft light came from the screen, a simple broadcast of a breaking news. "A body was found near the river, it appears that it suffered several inhumane injuries, the most peculiar damage were the empty eye sockets of the victim." "People should be careful outside." Kuroo whispered. "Ah, we have been informed that the name of the boy is 18 year old Kimura Rentarou." The noises that came from the television was drowned by Kuroo, he had a soft smile on his lips. Instead of the cold floor, he laid himself on his bed and whispered. "Did you hear that, little kitten? That little asshole is no more. We can be happy together now. Just you and me. My parents disappointed me though, they never wanted us to be together but they are gone now so you have not one single thing to worry about, my love." He said as he pulled the girl close to his chest. He felt her tremble under his arms. Ah, how cute she truly is - he thought to himself while he licked the tears that escaped from under the blindfold. "You should behave yourself, little kitten. You scratched me so much last night that I had trouble at volleyball and because you misbehaved I had no choice but to tie you up." He chuckled softly and he held her firmly, in a tight embrace. "I love you, [F/N]. You're only mine. Mine."
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S/S 2020 Fashion Month: A Basic, Uneducated Fashion Heaux’s A-Z of Everything Noteworthy (Part 2/3)
Hi to anyone reading,
Back at it again with the giving my unsolicited opinion on 2020′s spring/summer offering, I’m gonna hop straight into part 2 of my fashion month review!
Sorry to start with an underwhelming few but my compulsive tendencies are making it really hard to break out of this alphabetical structure (cry laughs whilst thinking about how long it took me to face up at my retail job last night because it would give me vaguely homicidal urges and make my fingers tingle every time a customer moved something slightly out of line), so I’m gonna whizz through a handful of collections. First up, Halpern:
Not much to say but I’m envious of the heavy liner (my hooded eyes could never) and I like the colour scheme. As for the 80s style metallic pink dress?
Helmut Lang:
And Hermes:
Of these 3 collections, Hermes is definitely the most interesting. I like the colour scheme and the utilitarian shapes and the tan coloured jackets are an absolute shoot. This is how you make safari look fresh, D&G take note.
Isabel Marant was okay. It’s cute, sure, reminds me of something Mary-Kate and Ashley would’ve come out with/worn in the 2000s, and there’s definitely some things I would wear, but I wouldn’t say it looks all that luxury. Pricey, sure, but like, Free People pricey, not designer pricey. As a collection, it’s not all that conceptual, unless the concept is L.A girl does a Starbucks run after her bikram yoga class. What I will say though is that some of the S/S 2020 commercial trends are becoming clear: white cheesecloth pieces, peasant blouses, cowboy boots, scrappy sandals, neutral tones, and bandana print.
Now onto the darling of high fashion Twitter: Jacquemus.
As far as presentation goes, this has to be one of my favourite set-ups of the season; a hot pink runway running through a lavender meadow is as canny and serene as those who sing the praises of Simon Porte Jacquemus would have you expect, and the clothes were easy, breezy and beautiful, even if there is an element of getting dressed in the dark going on with the styling which put me off including a few otherwise gorgeous pieces. It might not be 100% my style but you can tell this is a brand of the future which is only going to go from strength to strength.
And everything was beautifully and purposefully crafted on the runway with J.W Anderson this year. The pieces are graceful and timeless whilst still easy to envision as something a modern woman would throw on to (very fashionably) run some errands in the city. This was also one of the handful of shows (IIRC! This might be a case of extreme deja-vu!) where we saw the sandal straps tied over the trousers, I’m guessing to accentuate the ankles, and...I’m surprisingly here for it? Though in a sense it kinda resembles when I accidentally get my work trousers tucked into my slipper socks, it’s an interesting touch and adds a bit of a shape to otherwise billowing bottom halves.
Following Jacquemus’ lead (or vice versa, I’m way too deep into this fashion month haze to work out who went first at this point), Lacoste also put on a co-ed show. Otherwise crisp and preppy as per, the neckerchiefs (even if seeing them all next to one another does give off a bit of a Disneyland Main Street barbershop quartet vibe) and vinyl/wet-look/PVC/I’m still not sure what differentiates the 3 coats were an out of the box touch for them and I really liked it. It’s athleisure, but more like something Hayley Bieber would’ve worn as part of her Princess Diana inspired shoot than anything I’d wear to the gym.
LMAO, as if I go the gym. But you get my point. Next, Loewe:
Delicate, feminine and all around delightful, the S/S 2020 Loewe collection is up there with Chloe and Brock when it comes to most spring appropriate. More chiffon, lace and doily-like detailing, please, the old woman in me lives for this kinda thing made fashionable. Like with J.W Anderson, you can tell the design team wanted to do something different without just throwing shit onto their pieces for the sake of being wacky, and so we end up with these dramatic, slightly geometric waistlines and almost angelic Victorian nightgown inspired dresses that kinda make me wished that 1). ghosts existed and that 2). I lived back in that era so I could die some tragic death wearing any one of the dresses on the left in the top 3 rows and then haunt the shit out of everyone. That would really be an iconic fashion moment. Also wonderful, imo, was Louis Vuitton:
The mix between 60s and Edwardian I never knew I needed, as opposed to Gucci’s forward thinking take on the former decade, Louis Vuitton takes it back even further and throws in late 19th/early 20th century structures and references. I adore the what seems to be a mix between brocade and paisley print and the exaggerated collars are a very cute touch. The jacket on the top left is a highlight, a more neutral version of the similar catsuit seen at the Longchamp show (I couldn’t personally pick enough highlights from that to include it), and I now more than ever really want to try and pull off a sweater vest. The shoes might not be the most exciting thing ever but they’re also a personal favourite, from the knee high boots to the loafers with the LV moniker.
Maison Margiela was very cool and again, I’m in love with the shoes and just the accessories in general, ESPECIALLY those hats. I don’t know if I’m way off base here but this show is almost a modernised, fashionable version of a 1940s period drama about WW2 pilots and evacuees. Yes, maybe I am just getting that solely from the trench coats and the naval influences and the exaggerated collars but I think with that list I made quite a case for that perspective, right? Right.
And completing this holy trinity (appropriating the term I usually reserve for Emma Watson, Emma Stone and Emma Roberts is not without careful consideration) is Marc Jacobs. One of my ultimate favourites of this season, this collection is absolutely EVERYTHING: kitschy, dream-like, whimsical, over-the-top, and totally appropriate for your slightly eccentric aunt who always drinks too much wine and talks a lot of shit every time she comes over for dinner. I really feel like I walked into wonderland looking at this collection, and in the best way possible, it gives me a female Russell Brand in the 2000s’ wardrobe on crack. On the one hand we have these insanely beautiful and ethereal chiffon floral dresses but then we also have fricken top hats. Basically, it’s everything I love about fashion and I don’t know if anything can top it. Periodt (and I type that with a totally straight face).
Next, onto another personal fave, Marchesa:
Which is as always, beautiful. I was going to write that if Disney princesses came to life and lived in the modern world (so, in other words, Elle Fanning), they would be wearing Marchesa and then I remembered that the film Enchanted exists and had a lightbulb moment and thought OH MY GOD IF THEY REMADE THAT IN 2019, THE DRESS ON THE RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE ROW WOULD BE A PERFECT LEVELLING UP OF THE CURTAIN DRESS.
Anyways, favourites of the favourites are the bottom row; I would die for that feather trim.
BUT where Marchesa is everything opulent, overly ornate and err-ing on “fussy”, Margaret Howell’s S/S 2020 collection is completely stripped back and just as effective, if not as to my taste. Very cool, very current, and altogether effortless (in a good way!), with this show Margaret Howell made mid-20th century utilitarianism relevant. I never thought I’d be praising the combination of bermuda shorts, crew socks and a beanie and yet here I am. Character development.
Next is Marine Serre:
Which I really like! The bottom row isn’t really to my personal taste but I can acknowledge that if I saw somebody wearing any one of those outfits I’d think they looked sick, and as for the first two rows, those mesh tops and the slightly chintzy florals are right up my alley.
Marques Almeida put out a really strong collection, imo. The blending of luxurious silhouettes and fabrics with street wear inspired prints and styling is a really interesting and unique contrast and if Billie Eilish ever decided to stop wearing those tweenie clothes and wanted to actually seduce somebody’s dad (I LOVE BILLIE EILISH AND I KNOW WHY SHE DRESSES THE WAY SHE DOES, IT’S A JOKE, PLS DON’T HATE ME), I’d love to see her wearing something like this. It’s a blend of punk, urban, and 2019 e-girl and has the kind of edge that Topshop has lost over the past couple of years that used to make it so aspirational to my 13 year old self. Of all the shows, it also probably has the most personally wearable accessories, and a shit tonne of cool make up looks I’d love to try if it weren’t for my lack of visible eyelid, lol.
Make up looks were a highlight of the Max Mara show too, for me anyway.
I otherwise wasn’t hugely keen on the collection, it being a little too matronly/Miss.Trunchbull-esque for my liking (wild card fashion inspiration of 2019, apparently?). The light paisley print dresses are very dreamy, though, and I can never resist a good suit.
As for Michael Kors, dare I say it, but the basic bitch in me loved it. I know as a designer he’s not held in very high regard by the fashion community and I'm not saying it’s at all original but it did what it set out to do well; I mean, it’s quite fitting that he cameo-d in an episode of Gossip Girl because every outfit would be perfect for the Constance attending incarnation of Blair Waldorf, which is probably why I like the collection. Like yeah, it’s a bit of a Polo Ralph Lauren/Lacoste rip off but it’s daintier and more feminine and so I’m not gonna lie, I’m on board with it.
Next, Miu Miu.
One of the collections I was most excited for, I was a little disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, I really like the collection, but I have never once disliked anything Miu Miu and I usually love it. There are things I love about this line too: the cream, floral lace-up boots, the off-the-shoulder cardigans, the houndstooth oversized coats and of course the fur-lined gilets. My mum used to buy me similar ones when I was a little girl and so they give me childhood nostalgia in the best way possible. I mean, the collection is as girly and eccentric as ever. I think it’s just a little too on the primary school librarian side for me, this time round. Sorry Miu Miu xoxo
Now I’m just gonna speed through a couple, starting with MM6 Maison Margiela, the younger sister to the more expensive regular Maison Margiela line:
And Monique Lhuillier:
So that I can get to one of my other ultimate favourite collections for S/S 2020: Moschino.
Oh my god, where to even start. Firstly, I might be reaching, but if this show is even remotely to thank for art nouveau mesh tops showing up in the Urban Outfitters new in section, then a very sarcastic thank you to Jeremy Scott. You just made ethical shopping a lot harder. HOW am I supposed to not buy an Alphonse Mucha top? HOW!? I mean, I’m sure I’ll manage (I’m on month 3 without a shopping spree I can’t actually afford now and yes, I am very much patting myself on the back), but HOW!?
But on a serious level, if renaissance was the print of 2019, which I’m still very much into BTW, bring on modern art as its 2020 replacement. The Pablo Picasso inspired show not only livened up a generally pretty predictable fashion month but it’s also got me searching up other times art has met fashion on the runway and thrown me down a particularly aesthetically pleasing wormhole I’m not sure I ever want to escape from (https://frontrowmagazine.ca/art-inspired-looks-were-all-over-the-runways-of-fashion-week-a74e8bc7ff0d and https://www.vogue.com/article/spring-2017-ready-to-wear-fine-arts-trends are good starting points!).
Mugler was also up there with the best of them, imo:
See, if the Moschino collection was all about dabbling in art class, Mugler’s S/S 2020 collection is its more mathematically inclined sister, all about sharp lines and deconstructed silhouettes and symmetry all whilst looking hot as fuck. So very Mugler, basically.
Now, this reference might be slightly off because I haven’t actually SEEN Ex-Machina yet but I imagine if Kim Kardashian were to channel that movie for a costume party she’d end up wearing something from this collection. That sounds like a roast because Kim has worn some questionable outfits but I blame Kanye for most of that and I’m referring to her on a good fashion day, alright!?
As for Off-White, it’s obviously a lot more commercial than most of the lines I’ve reviewed so far. Like, I can see a lot of these outfits on a mannequin in Urban Outfitters (no, I am not being paid to namedrop them, about 3 people in total read this Tumblr so any kind of sponsorship money would be severely wasted on me). That’s not necessarily a bad thing, and I love all of these looks; it just seems unfair to compare them to the the Mugler or Moschino collections, for example.
The stand outs for me are all on the bottom row: I would buy the utility vest, leather blazer and the all mesh turtleneck under washed-out tie-dye on the spot if I saw them in a high street store. Unfortunately, I feel like that’s kinda where they belong. You just expect collections to be a bit more conceptual, and this one is a little watered down, as much as it’s my style.
Oscar de la Renta was beautiful, of course. Not like I’m shook by how beautiful it is but kinda just what you’d expect from a brand with a name as poetic and fun to say as Oscar de la Renta. The silhouettes are dreamy and the details are as fit for a fairy princess (lmao) as ever. Plus can I just say how happy I am to see butterflies on dresses for adult women again!? And dresses worn by Blanca Padilla nonetheless!? Very here for it.
Next up is another on one of my fashion month highlights: Paco Rabanne.
LOOK AT THIS SHIT!
I mean, don’t get me wrong, something about this collection (I’m pretty sure it’s the knee high coloured socks) is giving me primary school teacher vibes, but I'm not mad about it. It’d be the kind of teacher who’s actually really good at their job and has loads of cool hobbies and a really hot boyfriend or girlfriend or wife or husband who you secretly want to be then you grow up/and or have a huge crush on.
Like with Marc Jacobs, there’s obvious flower child elements here, and whilst on the whole the former took my breath away slightly more, this is a lot more wearable. My favourites are the paisley print dress and cape on the left in the very bottom row and all the chainmail pieces (which remind me of the dress Naomi Smalls wore in that whole club ninety-sixxxxx skit on drag race), plus that floral cut out dress with the trailing flute sleeves, which is absolute PERFECTION.
The 70s influence was clear in Peter Pilotto’s S/S 2020 collection too from the abundance of tie-dye to the knit v-neck dress, zany colour and print being the very on-brand focus. That being said, this is definitely more of a street-style inspired collection than usual and whilst the floral suits and dresses on the 3rd row down are very typical Peter Pilotto, the tie-dye corset and combat trousers on the far right, second row from the bottom, are very Jaded London. As for the reoccurrence of the bucket hat, I’ve remained steadfastly against them for several years now (even when our Lord and Saviour Miss Robyn Rihanna Fenty started wearing them) but the way they’re done in this collection even I could definitely get behind; all in all, the show surpassed my expectations.
The same goes for Ports 1961, which was a lot more eccentric than I gathered is the norm from a few google searches. Honestly, I hadn’t really heard of the brand which, upon reading up on it, I feel very dumb for considering it has been around since (in the shock twist of the century) 1961.
Yes, I know how that sounds! But forgive me, I’m still learning:)
Anyway, the fishnet detailing alone pretty much sold the looks I picked out. Seriously, I got a pair of those bloody tights, like, 2 years ago when they became a thing again and now any outfit where I have my legs out feels incomplete without them.
Next is Prabal Gurung, which, as far as presentation goes, was fucking STUNNING:
I mean, you could say that I’m easily impressed and that the presence of the bouquets won me over (and you’d definitely have a point there), but it’s also this year’s Givenchy haute couture-esque feathers, the trailing pearl necklaces, the exaggerated shoulders, the dreamy colouring, the everything looking like it could’ve grown off a very fashionably-inclined tree. Like, there’s a lot to love here, from the naturalistic elements, to the context behind the show, an ode to American fashion history and those cast out of it (and the notion of “being American” in general) for so long.
Going from a high to a (personal) low, however, next we have Prada:
I don’t know, I get that it’s supposed to be simple and stripped back and dignified and whatever and I like the looks I picked but it’s just a bit blah for me. The bonnets that kept cropping up just didn’t do it for me and almost ruined what is an otherwise nice skirt suit (top right). Nonetheless, I like the silhouette of the sheer black dress and the the brocade print suit is really luxurious looking, even if the pattern is a *little* Wetherspoons carpet.
Anyways, here’s a quick overview of Rag and Bone:
So that I can stop moaning and get onto a collection I REALLY liked:
I am of course talking about Ralph and Russo. See, this is kinda what I expected from, like, Chanel and yet it’s Ralph and Russo that delivered. Also, it gives me Alessandra Rich vibes which is very much a compliment considering how much I love her designs. I mean, if Valley of the Dolls were to get another film remake in 2019, this is exactly what I’d like to see the female leads wearing, from the pastel suits to the satin kaftan style dresses. The yellow feather trimmed dress is practically a copy of something Marchesa has already done but it’s cute all the same. In my top 10 collections of the season, for sure.
Rick Owens was another strong collection; it goes without saying that it’s not the most wearable but that’s not really what Rick Owens is known for, so I wouldn’t expect anything else. If you want fashion on an alien planet, or something Lady Gaga would’ve worn in 2010, he's your man.
Next, Rodarte:
Obviously the dresses are beautiful and the set is magnificent, BUT...I’m really not a fan of the whole celebrities filling in for high fashion models thing. I like Lili Reinhart and I adore Kirsten Dunst, she’s been in a load of my favourite films, but in a similar vein to Dolce and Gabbana’s influencer show, it’s just distracting from the actual garments, if even worse because I don’t WANT to be distracted here (the same can’t be said for the D&G show, lol). If anybody has read this far, let me know your thoughts!
Roland Mouret was nice, and I always like a coed show, especially when a designer isn’t afraid to blur the lines of masculine and feminine. It’s fresh, lightweight and luxurious looking, Cannes film festival street style eat your heart out, and I love the colour palette.
Similarly, colour was my favourite thing about Sally LaPointe’s S/S 2020 collection.
I would never think that teal and burnt orange would work together, let alone in some kind of faux leather, and yet here we are. Orange is in itself always an interesting colour choice, perfect for the summer with a tan, and I really love monochrome outfits, even though they’re something that ends up being quite pricey to put together; slight differences in tone are okay but if you just randomly throw together a few things and they’re too off, it really doesn’t work and you’d have been better off wearing contrasting colours. For that reason, I’m just gonna admire that all-pink outfit from a distance.
As for Schiaparelli, it’s one I always look forwards to for the sheer weirdness. RTW isn’t quite as kooky as haute couture but still, the interesting choices are still there; what at first glance appears to be flame print is actually coils of hair, and paired with a water print suit is a sequinned jacket emblazoned with a paradisiacal mirage. Ornament-like facial decorations as seen in the over-exaggerated glasses worn with the pony hair suit are also one of my favourite new things to happen in the high fashion scene in the past couple of months and I can’t wait to see how they get watered down to become more approachable for us...regular, non-structurally blessed folks who can’t pull off anything and everything.
Simone Rocha was STUNNING. Romantic and ethereal, it’s druid goddess crossed with upper class Victorian woman of leisure, equal parts delicate and grungy, like a modern, fashion version of Lady Gaga’s Scathach in the Roanoke season of American Horror Story. You know, in the flashbacks, not in present day when she was all gross and like...scalping people and shit. Each dress is so ornate and has such an interesting structure, and the fabric choices give off an organic kinda vibe that create a handmade feel; the collection is, imo, really worthy of being shown under a haute couture heading. When it comes to my favourite element of the show, I’m torn between the petticoats and the hair accessories. I’m just gonna give a cop-out answer and say both.
Stella McCartney on the other hand, is very much a clear ready-to-wear collection.
It’s pretty, for sure. The pastel blazers paired with delicate white mesh tops underneath are a gorgeous combination for spring and I like the reoccurrence of the chain glasses (Gucci, right?). But I mean, when you go from Simone Rocha to this, it’s a bit anticlimactic. Plus, if I’m honest, kaftans are always going to remind me of Honey Mahogany from season 5 of Drag Race. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure she’s a lovely person but her runway looks aren’t really ones I look back fondly on, and you’re lying if you say you enjoyed them for anything other than meme purposes.
Temperley is equally meh, though the return of the Erdem-style boating hats is getting me excited that high street retailers might actually pick up on the trend and bring out some cheap ones for me to embarrass myself by wearing.
I also love a good 70s suit, the neckerchiefs are cute and there are some really delightful prints here that are a more unique approach to florals for spring.
Coming towards the end now, next is Thom Browne:
I LOVE this. Like, don’t get me wrong Rick Owens was cool but I adore how on the nose the concept is here; time to bring back all the Marie Antoinette puns I didn’t get to use in my Versailles Instagram post. I don’t know if it’s the history buff in me or the Sofia Coppola Stan but I will always be willing to sign any kind of treaty for anything related to the excesses of the 18th century French monarchy, and this is that turned up to 1000 infused with a dash of the Teletubbies, which sounds like a nightmarish concept, I know, but as high fashion it WORKS.
Tory Burch was very commercial, seemingly half inspired by Monterey yoga moms and the other half by Hamptons socialites.
And then there was Valentino, which was fucking exquisite, imo. LIKE, CALLING DOCLE & GABBANA: THIS IS HOW YOU MAKE TROPICAL PRINT INTERESTING. YOU MAKE THE VELVET MONKEY’S ARM THE FRICKEN WAISTBAND.
Seriously, though, I am enamoured with this colour palette; all the whites and golds are angelic and fr, I didn’t know until now that you could make neons this elegant. I’m also getting an almost clerical feel from a lot of these looks, with the plaited waistband on the black dress that’s 7th row down in the middle, the stunning red cape and the multitude of exaggerated neck ruffs. I think I’ve mentioned before but I always love religious references in clothing-I don’t think I’ll ever get over the 2018 Met Gala-and so whether I’m reading too much into it or not, this collection really did it for me.
Whilst it’s probably as far removed a collection from Valentino’s S/S 2020 contribution you can get, I also loved Vera Wang this season. It might purely (I PROMISE THIS IS MY LAST GOSSIP GIRL REFERENCE) be because it gives me Jenny Humphrey vibes and *controversial* she did have my favourite style of any of the main characters, but sue me, this is just the right amount of late 90s/early 2000s grunge. Deconstructed trashy goth it girl is an interesting concept to see on the runway and I completely support it.
Versace on the other hand was very hit or miss. The looks I picked out I really loved but ultimately, for one of the household name brands, a lot of the actual garments were a bit pedestrian. I will say though that for me, it’s a case of the whole being greater than the sum of its parts. The slicked back mermaid hair and the pops of colour in the makeup and the interesting necklines meant that when it was good, it was GOOD. However, overall, still a bit too 80s Miami businesswoman, and please GOD, can we leave that hideous J-Lo dress in the past, it should really not be the climax of the show in 20-fucking-19!
As for Victoria Beckham, I liked it, but it’s a bit of a Gucci copy, no? And no way near as interesting?
And on that note, I’m gonna have to cut this off. Super annoying but with only 5 collections left that I want to talk about, Tumblr is being a little bitch and will not let me add anything more to this post. So, see you in 5 for the final post!
Lauren x
#valentino#ss20#fashionmonth#nyfw#pfw#lfw#mfw#versace#rickowens#rick owens#simone rocha#schiaparelli#moschino#mugler#style#fashion#runway#details#trend#ralph&russo#off-white#oscar de la renta
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Sehun: Guardian (Part 11)
Characters: Sehun x female reader (featuring ot12 exo)
Genre/warnings: gang au, twin au, angst, really slight fluff at the end if you squint a little bit, mild violence, death, VERY poorly written “fight scene” (sorry I’m bad w them so uh yeah)
Word count: 5,044
a/n: Kris, Tao, and Luhan are all depicted as the bad guys in this story (if you hadn’t noticed up until now lmao) SO I figured I should say that just because I write them as awful people doesn’t mean I think they’re awful people. this is a fic which means it’s all made up. nobody get mad at me!!!!
Previous | Next | Masterlist
»»————- ————-««
Everyone was nervous, even Chanyeol who was almost always smiling and goofing off -- how he was ever feared by anybody, you’d never understand, even with how he was built. Both Minseok and Jongdae had put their kids to bed before they left, kissing their heads and telling them how much they loved them before leaving them with babysitters for the rest of the night. Jongin had told his girlfriend he had important business to do before promising his return to her in a few hours.
You wanted to go to Yixing’s, but you kept remembering what Saehyuk had told you about family. Yixing abandoned you. What was the point?
“Are you sure you don’t want to go say anything to hyung?” Sehun asked before he had left for his apartment about an hour before you were supposed to go find Kris.
“I’m positive,” you stated. “Besides, going to his place always makes me feel...weird.”
“Why are you always so nervous going to visit him?” Sehun chuckled.
“I don’t know,” you grumbled. “It’s like going to visit my dad or something.”
“Do you fear disappointing him or something?”
You scoffed, “I know I’ve already disappointed him more times than I can count.”
So with the possible last words to loved ones out of the way, everybody but Yixing and Junmyeon -- as expected -- gathered at your home.
Home... The place you kept calling “the house” and once again become a home to you again without even realizing. You didn’t dread going back there anymore, knowing you could find comfort there in the form of Sehun, and vice versa. Neither of you had ever mentioned it, either, but you suddenly had the realization as all of you gathered in the kitchen.
Sehun had really kept his promise, and you kept yours. Till the very end.
“No point in wasting more time,” Minseok sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “Let’s get going, kids.”
“I get that we might die,” Jongin began as the group started to make their way to the front door, “but I still hate when you call us kids.”
You had paused in the living room, looking down the hall that led to the two bedrooms and the bathroom. Sehun paused, sensing you weren’t behind him anymore. He turned his head to see you looking down toward Saehyuk’s room.
“Do whatever you need to do,” he spoke up, making your eyes avert their gaze to him. “We’ll be waiting outside. Don’t rush yourself, either.”
“Thanks,” you said softly before he continued out the door.
Sehun had already done what he needed to do. Everybody was preparing for the worst, so Sehun had already made his peace. He went and said what he had to say to his brother where he was buried -- you’d gone with him and you’d both taken turns, and you had both definitely cried -- and he’d taken anything he wanted with him from his brother’s room. He had a picture of the three of you together folded up in his pocket to keep with him, as well as one of him and the group after you had joined and their three ex-members had left. Even if you hated Junmyeon and Yixing -- though he knew you didn’t really hate them -- he didn’t.
You walked down the hall, the sound of your boots sounding like thunder in the quiet of the empty house. You pushed open Saehyuk’s door first, taking off your jacket in favor of putting one of Saehyuk’s sweatshirts on. You cuffed the sleeves so you could use your hands better, which definitely made you look less menacing than the leather jacket, but it’s what you wanted to wear.
As far as Sehun went, you had realized the two of you hadn’t said anything to each other yet. At the house while you were getting ready, everybody had gone and said a few things to one another, but you and Sehun never got the chance to do the same with each other.
You left the house, looking around the small group of men until you spotted Sehun about to put his helmet on.
“Sehun!” you called before jogging over to him.
Sehun lowered his helmet, turning his head to look at you. He set it down on the bike seat when he saw you coming over and moved passed Minseok and Baekhyun so you could approach him. But he was surprised that instead of stopping before him, you crashed right into him, your arms going around his waist.
Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. Truthfully, he’d avoided saying goodbye to you because he wasn’t exactly sure what to say. You meant the most to him now. You were the one he wanted to protect all the time, and he knew you felt the same toward him. You were each other’s rocks, and putting feelings into words would be too...complicated -- and it would hurt too much.
Sehun leaned back just enough that he could press a kiss to the top of your forehead. You squeezed him tighter, knowing what it meant. Neither of you had to say it, you both just understood the other felt it, too.
As if you both understood it was time to go, you pulled away at the same time without saying a thing. You followed Sehun over to his bike where he handed you the spare helmet before he put on his own.
You left the house with the others on their bikes -- except Minseok and Jongdae who both drove their cars just in case -- without getting anything from Sehun’s room. You knew if anything bad happened to you, you already had something of his. He was always by your side, after all.
-
Sneaking was something your friends were better at than you thought. You didn’t think half of them could be quiet for longer than 90 seconds, but any of you had yet to be discovered, even after splitting up.
Minseok had wanted you to go with him and Kyungsoo to wait on the balcony where you’d be safer, but you insisted it would make more sense to you to stay with Sehun. If the two of you got caught, they’d assume there wouldn’t be any more people showing up. As far as anybody knew, you were the only two who would try to avenge his brother’s death.
Kyungsoo and Minseok hid in the shadows up on the balcony of the warehouse, while Baekhyun and Jongdae had shimmied up onto the rafters. Jongin and Chanyeol were on standby on the roof, looking in through the small windows up there. Everybody was in place, so now the plan just had to be carried out.
“Okay, it’s time,” you whispered, looking at your watch before you looked into Sehun’s eyes and nodded. “Stay here.”
“_____--”
“I’ll be fine, just wait here,” you insisted before leaving your hiding spot and trying to be stealthy as you tried to figure out which room Kris was hiding in.
There were plenty of doors in the large warehouse for him to be hiding out in. He may not have had a lot of people, but he had a lot of space. You didn’t even know what he needed all of these rooms for but you had to try to peek into every single one.
As you crouched in front of the second door, you saw a shadow appear behind yours on the wall. Then you heard a throat clearing. Your body was frozen in place.
“Well, well, well,” Kris’s voice sang, “what do we have here?”
You slowly turned, looking up at Kris, “...Hey.”
Before you could even react, Kris had grabbed you by the collar of your sweatshirt, pulled you to stand up straight, and slammed your back up against the door, keeping his hold on you tight as he got in your face.
“What the fuck are you doing back here?” he hissed.
You coughed after having your back hit the hard surface, but you still managed to smirk at him and reply, “What do you think I’m doing back here, Yifan? Use your head for once.”
Kris turned, bringing you with him as he threw you to the ground. You slid on the concrete a little, but thankfully, you managed to block your head hitting the ground with your arms. Kris approached you with a harsh laugh, his brown eyes on you as he held his arms out.
“Alright, where is he?” he called out. “No way you’d be dumb enough to come here without Sehunie, right? So where is the little brat? No doubt he thinks he can avenge his stupid brother too, right?”
“He’s not here,” you spat.
Kris crouched down, balancing on the balls of his feet as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you up. You let out a soft cry of pain, your eyes squeezing shut.
“Don’t lie to me,” he whispered harshly. He whipped your head away from him before standing up, shouting into the seemingly-empty warehouse. “C’mon, Sehun! I know you’re around here somewhere! Don’t make me get Tao and Luhan to look for you -- you know how that would go.”
“You’re not as scary as you think you are, Yifan,” Sehun mused as he strolled out from the spot where you’d left him.
“Sehun--!”
Kris frowned, narrowing his eyes at the younger boy, “What do you think gives you the right to call me that?”
Sehun chuckled, “It’s funny you think I’d have any respect for you. Funny, but also pretty stupid.”
“You know what else is funny but stupid? _____ thinking she could pull off lying to me like that,” he turned his head to look down at you. “You two really couldn’t come up with a plan and stick to it, could you?”
One of the doors opened, Tao poking his head out after hearing all the commotion.
“Kris?” he called. “Do you need--”
“I can handle this myself, Zitao!” he barked, pointing sharply for him to go back into the room.
You couldn’t help but laugh as Tao shut the door again, “Can you come up with a plan and stick to it?”
Kris pushed you over with his foot so you were laying on your back before resting the sole of his shoe on your neck. He put just enough pressure for you to know that he could just step on your windpipe if he wanted to, a cocky grin plastered on his stupid, flawless face.
“I don’t think you’re in the position for teasing,” he pointed out. “Now, let’s just get this over with, shall we? I hope the two of you had a chance to say your goodbyes -- unlike Saehyuk.”
The slight pressure on your neck was suddenly gone, and you heard skin connect with skin before there was a thud on the floor. You looked up to see Kris on his butt with Sehun a few feet away, unclenching his fist with a neutral expression.
“You should know better than to let your guard down,” he stated. “You taught me that, after all.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed before reaching behind him. He pulled a gun from where he kept it in the back of his pants, clicking off the safety before aiming it right at Sehun. “But I also taught you it’s better to cheat and win than play fair and lose.”
Before Kris could even shoot, a shot was fired that went whizzing passed his face, just barely grazing the hair on his head. You could see the shock on his face before his eyes were searching where the bullet came from. His eyes finally landed on the balcony where Minseok was waving with a cheery grin on his face. Kyungsoo was still holding his gun, aiming it a little more to the right now.
“Kyungsoo,” Kris tisked, “you never miss your shots.”
Kyungsoo kept the same blank expression, his voice just as robotic, “Oh, I know.”
Kris looked back at Sehun, and without blinking or looking away, aimed his gun up to the balcony. He shot, the two men up there ducking behind the bars before it could hit them.
Sehun dove for Kris to get his gun, but Kris could see him coming. He tried to shoot, but he missed as Sehun tackled him onto his back, his hand gripping the older boy’s wrist while you scrambled to get up and help.
“Zitao! Luhan!” Kris barked.
While the two men peered out from their respective rooms, Kyungsoo and Minseok made their way down from the balcony to help with the numbers. Seeing that the fight was growing and there was strength in numbers, Baekhyun nodded to Jongdae before the two descended down from the rafters with their ropes.
As Tao immediately ran into the open space to help Kris, Luhan held back and took notice of the two men coming down from the ceiling. That was when he spotted the dark figures at the windows, narrowing his eyes. Before he went to help, he pushed a button inside the room, signaling all of Kris’s men that there was an emergency and they needed to come ASAP.
You went to go help Sehun but you were grabbed and dragged backwards. You realized it was Tao that was trying to subdue you as he flung you to the ground and climbed on top of you. But almost as soon as he had straddled your body, he was being flung off of you by Baekhyun.
“Are you okay?” Jongdae asked as he held out a hand to help you to your feet. “Kris flung you around quite a bit.”
As you got up with a soft groan, you nodded, “Nothing I can’t handle.”
Just as you were about to get your bearings again, doors from all around the warehouse were being flung open with men running out with guns and weapons drawn. Your eyes went wide, realizing that you were even more unprepared than you ever could’ve thought.
“What the fuck is happening?” Jongdae asked.
“Fuck...” you hissed.
From the roof, Chanyeol and Jongin could see that things were getting way more out of hand than they anticipated. They knew their little surprise attack probably wouldn’t make a difference, but they still had to do something. So they kicked in the windows and dropped down to help.
“Just get Kris and get the fuck out,” Jongdae instructed before running off to figure out how to help, grabbing his gun from the back of his pants.
But you never stood a chance. It was almost immediate how you were overwhelmed by the number of people on Kris’s side, and you were soon all set on your knees with your wrists tied tightly behind you. Kris’s large group of men stood off to the side with your group while you were led to kneel in front of them, facing your right. They stared at you, knowing what was to come, and knowing they couldn’t stop it.
Kris had left you in front of them to grab Sehun and drag him over to face you. The two of you knelt across from each other, meeting eyes but not making any expressions or forming any tears. The two of you already accepted this could happen. Yes, you would miss Sehun, but at least this would happen with him.
“Since this was such a poor excuse of a retribution,” Kris began with an amused tone as he held a gun in each hand, pointing one at your head and one at Sehun’s, “I’ll give the two of you a chance to say goodbye to each other.”
“I’m sorry,” Sehun began, turning his head slightly to look at his friends all lined up, “I’m sorry you were dragged into this. That’s my only regret for all of this. ...And _____,” he turned to look at you again, and you saw the very faint hints of a smile at the edges of his lips, “thanks for keeping your promise.”
You couldn’t help but let one side of your mouth turn up in a tiny smile, “Thanks for keeping yours.”
“I’d like to say this was a pleasure, but you’ve just wasted my time,” Kris said.
You heard a sound like a gunshot, but you knew it wasn’t Kris for two reasons: neither you nor Sehun were dead, and Kris flinched at the loud noise. But following the noise came smoke that quickly filled the room. You couldn’t see Kris in front of you or even your own nose. You coughed as you had no choice but to breathe it in, your eyes squinting as you tried to see anything at all.
You felt somebody grab you under your arms before you were being pulled to your feet and led somewhere. You fought against it at first as your lungs protested against you, but the person just picked you up and tossed you over their shoulder, able to resist your kicking and squirming as you demanded to be put down over the chaos of Kris, his men, and your gang trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
You were finally able to see through the smoke after hearing what sounded like a door being shoved open. You took in a big breath of fresh air seeing the dirt of the ground below you. You lifted your head as much as you could to see the outside of the warehouse, confirming that you really were outside.
You were finally set on your feet, but the figure turned away from you and went back into the building before you could really look at them. They were wearing all black and had a gas mask on to see through the fog, and somebody in the same outfit was coming out of the warehouse as the first person went back in. This person, however, was pushing Sehun and Minseok out of the building before retreating back inside.
“Sehun!” you breathed, running toward him even though it brought you closer to the smoke.
“What, not happy to see me?” Minseok frowned, though it was half teasing.
Slowly, more of you were brought outside. Next came Jongdae and Jongin, and then Baekhyun and Chanyeol. That was when the figure that had brought out the latter two took off his mask while the other went back in to get Kyungsoo.
“Hyung!” most of the boys smiled when they saw Yixing’s familiar face under the gas mask.
“Yes, yes, I know, I’m your hero,” he nodded as he retrieved a knife to free your wrists from their restraints. “Thank me later.”
“Why’d you come?” Chanyeol laughed even though it was very clear he had been crying because he was afraid -- he was somehow the only one who cried.
“I’ll let you guess but I doubt you can,” he smirked.
The second figure emerged from the smoke with Kyungsoo -- who still looked unfazed. He was led over to the rest of the group before the second masked person finally took off the gas mask
You couldn’t tell what Junmyeon was thinking as he looked around at the lot of you. All you knew was that he was happy you were safe because he had that same odd mouth-pressed-into-a-thin-line kind of “smile” he made whenever he was upset with somebody for getting into trouble but happy they made it home with their life. But why he even bothered to show up here, you didn’t know or understand.
“Didn’t see that coming,” Chanyeol muttered.
“I did,” Minseok scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It’s Suho -- you guys really think he would let all of us go like that? He looks out for us. It’s what he’s supposed to do.”
Junmyeon didn’t say anything in reply. Just nodded in the opposite direction of the warehouse, signaling it was time to leave.
“Wait!” you called. Everybody stopped as they had taken a few steps to leave. “What about Kris?”
“_____, we can’t go back in there,” Yixing told you, trying to sound sympathetic because he really did want you to get your revenge -- really, he did -- but it was just too dangerous now.
You turned to look at the warehouse, the feeling of failure hitting much harder than you expected. You got everybody into trouble for nothing, which would no doubt mean endless scolding from not only Junmyeon, but also everybody else. You didn’t avenge Saehyuk like you wanted -- no, needed -- to. But you also had to live with the fear that Kris would probably try to strike again, and you couldn’t keep all of them safe from him.
But through the thin fog that had drifted outside, you could see Kris darting out of the warehouse from another door. He ran straight to his motorcycle and got on, putting on his helmet before starting up the engine.
You quickly lifted the front of your shirt just enough to grab the gun that was strapped to your body. You turned the safety off before trying to aim it for Kris’s legs, letting off a shot. Kris’s running faltered before he ran faster.
“Fuck!” you shouted in frustration.
Wordlessly, Kyungsoo walked up beside you and grabbed the gun before aiming for a second and firing. Kris fell to the ground with a cry of pain.
“What a God,” Baekhyun commented, trying to lighten the tense mood even though it was about to get tenser.
But you barely heard him as you were already taking off with your gun in hand, running to where Kris was trying to push himself to stand and run. You kicked Kris in the stomach, rolling him onto his back before you were straddling his waist and pointing your gun at his head without hesitation.
Kris’s eyes were bleary from tears, but when he managed to make out your face, he laughed weakly, “What, are you’re gonna kill me? Please -- _____, you and I both know you don’t have it in you. You think you’re tougher than you are; you’ve never been tough at all.”
“Shut up,” you snapped.
“I’ve seen the others kill people,” he scoffed. “Junmyeon, Minseok, Kyungsoo -- fuck, even Chanyeol has. But you? You wouldn’t. I know it, and I know you know it. Saehyuk -- he made you soft, _____. He taught you morals and shit. He made you like the person you are because he loved you for who you were. You wouldn’t fuck that up. Give it up, _____. You’re gonna let me go, so just stop wasting my time and yours.”
And even though you didn’t want to admit it, and even though you wanted to be the hero...Kris was right. You’d never had a voice of reason until you met Saehyuk -- so now it even sounded like him -- and it was telling you not to shoot him. Even though you knew Kris would want his revenge for causing all this trouble, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull the trigger. You wanted to be the one to avenge Saehyuk, but would that even be what Saehyuk wanted you to do?
Of course not. Not if it meant murdering somebody. Not if it meant turning yourself into a monster.
“_____...?”
It was Sehun’s voice that said your name, quiet and almost afraid. He had slowly walked up behind you while Kris was talking to you.
“I can’t...” you whispered. Even seeing the shit-eating smirk on Kris’s face, you set the gun on the ground and slid it across the dirt so Kris couldn’t get it before getting off of Kris. “I can’t do it. I’m... I’m sorry.”
“_____--!”
Sehun tried to grab your wrist, but you had run off into the night, going toward where they had left their vehicles. The rest of them only watched until you were out of sight.
“You should go after her,” Junmyeon’s voice was suddenly right beside Sehun as he placed a hand on the younger’s shoulder. “I can take care of this.”
“No, hyung,” Sehun replied, bending to pick up the gun, “this is something I have to do for both of us.”
“Are you sure about that, Sehunie?” Kris’s voice was taunting from where he was still laying in the dirt. “Saehyuk--”
“Saehyuk,” Sehun began, cutting him off, “would completely understand why I did this. Besides, _____ may have never wanted him to be disappointed in her, but I’m pretty used to it.”
-
You wished with every fiber of your being that you could just stop crying. Why were you even crying? Because you failed? Because you were weak in front of everybody? Because Kris was right? A combination of all three? You had no idea, but you couldn’t stop even as you grabbed your helmet and left Sehun’s on the hood of Jongdae’s car so you could take his bike.
Your tears didn’t stop while you were zooming down the empty streets, and they flowed even more when you had thrown your helmet off into the grass and collapsed at your destination.
“I couldn’t do it,” you whimpered, unable to even look straight ahead. “Why couldn’t I do it? What’s wrong with me?!”
You didn’t expect an answer as you sobbed, your tears falling to the ground below you. Your body leaned forward, your arms wrapping around cool stone which only made you feel worse rather than better, but it was all you had right now. You you just sobbed into the granite that had Oh Saehyuk engraved into it, trying to pretend it was really him.
You weren’t sure how long it was, but you felt warmth against your back. It was a hand at the middle of it, rubbing up and down a little in an attempt to soften your cries.
“_____...” Sehun’s voice was soft as he was crouched down behind you.
He wasn’t sure what to say next to make you feel better. He wasn’t even positive why you were crying, and he didn’t want to say anything that had nothing to do with what you were upset about. So he just stayed silent, letting your sobs fill the air.
Junmyeon was who had driven him there, along with Yixing. The two were waiting by Junmyeon’s car a few feet away, and they both slowly approached, figuring they could help the younger boy comfort you.
Yixing knelt down in the grass by Sehun while Junmyeon went and sat beside the headstone where you were still hugging it, hiding your face in your arm.
“Would it help if I told you Kris is dead?” Junmyeon offered.
You moved away from the headstone but kept your head down, letting your hair block your face as you wipes the tears from your face.
“No,” you replied, your nose stuffy. “I should’ve been the one to--”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Junmyeon cut you off before you could finish. He reached over at rested a comforting hand on your knee. “_____, do you know the biggest reason I didn’t want you going after Kris?”
You flipped your hair out of your face to look at him, feeling embarrassed, but he already knew you were crying so why hide it?
“No,” you mumbled.
“Because you’re one of us, but you’re not like us,” he stated. “I didn’t want you to end up killing somebody because that’s not you. I knew this is what would happen. You’d get upset because you couldn’t bring yourself to kill him, but why is that something to be upset over?”
“Because--”
“No, _____. There isn’t a reason,” his eyes were boring into yours as if the more intensely he stared, the more his speech would sink in and you’d accept it. “I know you wanted to avenge Saehyuk, but I also know that you know that he would prefer it this way. You have every right to feel whatever you’re feeling, but don’t ever beat yourself up for not jumping to murder, okay?”
You let out a little laugh before nodding, running a hand through your hair. You bit your lip, realizing that you definitely owed Junmyeon an apology for what you did and how you’d gone against him.
“Suho, I--”
“I know what you’re gonna say,” he began with a sigh, “and you don’t have to if you do me a favor.”
“What is it?”
He simply held his arms open with a smile you could only describe as a father happy to see their child after being away for so long. It was...heartwarming in an odd way.
“When did you get sappy?” you asked, moving forward to let him engulf you in a hug.
“When you almost died because I let all of you go off on your own.”
“Suho’s the one that said we should go after you,” Yixing interjected with a nod. “When Sehun came to say what he had to say to us, he said we should follow him and keep an eye on things. We came prepared to get you out if we had to.”
“Why?” you wondered, pulling away from him to give him a quizzical look. “You said you were just going to kick us out and you wouldn’t protect us.”
Junmyeon shrugged, “I said things when I was mad that I didn’t mean. You’re family, and I protect family.”
You smiled a little -- it was small, but he could still tell you were touched, “Thanks, Myeon.”
“Don’t thank me,” he said with a content sigh. He looked behind you to Sehun. “Are you taking _____ back to the house.”
“I mean, unless you feel better staying at Yixing’s, I planned on just going home,” he shrugged.
You turned to look at him, shaking your head, “No, I just wanna go home.”
So that’s what you did. Sehun brought you to the house, got ready for bed with you, and got into bed, holding you close to him as he kissed your temple and mumbled a goodnight.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” he told you softly.
“I’m glad you are, too,” you yawned.
And as you nuzzled closer into his chest, you truly did feel at home.
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