#I’m sure plenty of you are infatuated with me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

merakiui · 2 months

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RABU.

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, brief nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, implied murder/death, implied cannibalism, pregnancy, obsession note - i chatted with @heyyy11 and we discussed noodle shop owner jade!! :D this fic is the result of our thoughts. additionally, it's inspired by maretu's "binomi" and lyrics featured are from mitski's "me and my husband."

i. i steal a few breaths from the world for a minute. and then i’ll be nothing forever. and all of my memories and all of the things i have seen will be gone. with my eyes, with my body, with me.

There’s a pot of perpetual stew sitting on the stove.

It fills the small shop with savory scents, enthralling all who catch its delicious aroma on the air. Your husband of twenty years tends to it every now and then, lifting the lid to stir through its contents with a large wooden spoon. Regulars stop by for a fix of his food and comment much the same thing each time: “That husband of yours sure loves his stew.”

“Oh, he can’t get enough,” you would always reply, giggling at their observations.

You would then scrawl their usual orders in your notepad and they’d give you a knowing look. Still so infatuated even though two decades have passed—aren’t you the sweetest? But you can’t help it. Your husband is everything: affectionate, attentive, a masterful chef…

His forever single twin brother often groused that Jade got all the good fortune. “Y’know, if you’re ever tired of Jade, I’m here for ya,” he’d say, leaning over the counter with a sleazy smirk. “Shrimpy’s free to visit whenever she wants. My arms are always open.”

And Jade would smile tightly at him, brush him away with his broom, all while saying, “I’m afraid the shop’s closed now. You’ll have to come back tomorrow, Floyd.”

He acts in jest. Mostly.

Shortly after your wedding, on your first night as newlyweds, the two of you made a compromise. Jade wanted a family; you weren’t ready to start one. And so, in order to work through this dispute, you came to an agreement: He would be in charge of the prep work for the noodle shop he intended to open—a metaphorical child more than anything. In return, you would take orders and chat with customers. A fair deal, one you thought was attractive in its own right. Jade, ever so patient and understanding, lounged beside you in bed, gesturing towards the ceiling as if attempting to spell out the vision before your very eyes. He spoke so eagerly of his dreams. It warmed your heart.

Naturally, just as passionately, you would support him in his every endeavor.

“What do you think of this name? Rabu Rabu Ramen.”

You rolled over on your side, snuggling closer. You couldn’t snuff the overwhelming elation and tenderness that wrapped itself around you whenever you looked at him. And he was all yours—your husband to love forever, to grow old with, to experience life’s highs and lows together. Your wedding night was just the beginning of what would surely be a riveting romance.

“It’s silly.”

“It’s lovey-dovey.”

“If you like it, I like it.”

“Truly?”

You pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Absolutely.”

It wasn’t long before fantasy bled into reality. The both of you found a quaint spot in a quiet neighborhood. It was more hole-in-the-wall than you would’ve liked, but Jade didn’t seem to mind. Sometimes tourists stumbled in, commenting that they would’ve missed it had they not ventured down the narrow path. Jade liked that aspect. It was secretive, peaceful, off the beaten track…

By the end of your first year running the shop, plenty of praise had spread throughout the neighborhood. You learned the locals’ names and faces quickly, committing each to your memory as if there might be an exam later on. They thought you were the cutest, the way you’d take charge of the front while your husband worked diligently in the back. Grandmothers adored you, and they made sure to point out the obvious at every opportunity.

“Omago-san, it’s too quiet in here! You’re still so young. Plenty of time for a family. Tell that husband of yours to get busy!”

You could only offer an awkward smile. “Maybe one day.”

When that ‘one day’ would be, you couldn’t say.

It’s become something of a widely-held belief that Jade can’t make a single bad dish. Everything on the menu is scrumptious. From the homemade noodles to the variety of broths to the additional ingredients, each prepared by Jade’s adroit hand, it’s a feast for the ravenous.

Sometimes customers ask for recommendations, and if you aren’t careful you’ll end up fawning over every dish.

“It’s all so amazing, but I like my ramen with bone broth. My husband makes it better than I do.”

It was true. You couldn’t possibly replicate Jade’s skill in the kitchen. At the very least, when it comes to tea, you’re on an even playing field.

“Just what’s his secret anyway?”

To that question, you could only offer a shrug. “Maybe it’s love?”

Jade told you it was a family recipe—a cherished secret passed through the generations. You thought he’d confess at some point now that you’ve been part of the family for so long, but he’s yet to do so. It hurt at first. You’re married! Family! Jade is smooth about the entire thing, promising to tell you one day, easing all of your worries with sugared sentiments. You’re impatient and oh-so-curious, but you force yourself to wait for his sake.

It must be a special secret.

The pot on the stove is an heirloom. It’s old, yet reliable and sturdy. Jade’s mother gifted it to him in the wake of your engagement. Sometimes you think he treasures it more than anything. He’s always hovering near it, having forbidden you from lifting the lid, lest you unintentionally tamper with whatever it is he’s cooking. It smells hearty like meat stew most days, and according to Jade the process is long.

You linger near the stove. A tiny taste wouldn’t hurt, right? After all, Jade cooks things in excess to cure what appears to be an interminable hunger.

But then someone pokes their head inside the shop, calling out a greeting. You move to the front just as Jade returns from the storage room, carrying a crate of vegetables. That taste will have to wait.

Detective Azul Ashengrotto lowers onto a stool at the counter and heaves an exhausted sigh.

“If it isn’t Azul! What brings you here? Tired of the big city?”

Weary hues flick over your face. He manages a smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, (Name). You’re still as energetic as ever.”

“You know it. Every day’s sunny over here.” You rest your elbows on the counter and hum. “Although it’s been awfully slow today.”

“I envy you.” He lifts his hat off of his head to card a hand through tousled hair. Now that you’re looking at him, he seems to have lost some weight. His face is thinner. His eye sockets appear hollow, heavy with shadows. “They’re running me ragged over there. Too many cases. Not enough answers.”

“You ought to take better care of your health.”

“I am—will. I plan to as soon as I wrap up this current case.”

“What’s it about? If you can tell me, that is.”

“A young man went missing near the port. They think he might’ve fallen in and drowned. His wallet was brought up from the seabed, but they haven’t recovered his body yet.”

“How unfortunate… I’m sure his family’s distraught.”

Azul drags a hand down his face and sighs again. “A mess.”

“My, my. It’s been some time since I’ve heard that familiar sigh.”

Lowering his arm, Azul fixes him with a sardonic grin. “How kind of you to join us. I was starting to wonder where you were hiding.”

Jade hums and adjusts his bandana. “Forever confined to the kitchen. My wife is eating for two now.”

A minute ticks by before the realization flashes on Azul’s face. He looks between the both of you, stunned.

“Oh, you’ve—wow. I wasn’t expecting… Ahem. Congratulations.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s talking about his stomach. I’m not pregnant.”

Azul’s countenance shifts through a catalogue of emotions before landing on a scowl. “To think I actually believed you for a moment. I rescind my congratulations.”

“My poor hara, endlessly empty without your sweet sentiments to fill it.”

“And my hara is telling me that you’re going to starve our guest if you keep being silly.” Clicking your tongue at him, you turn your much softer stare on Azul. “The usual, right?”

“Oh, thank you, but I ate before I came. I only intended to stop in and say hello since I was in the area. I really should be leaving now that—”

“Nonsense! You’re already here and Jade has nothing better to do. You should go back on a full stomach.”

“Indeed. A delicious bowl of tonkotsu ramen has your name on it,” Jade adds from his place in the kitchen. “And I do so love busying these idle hands of mine. Should they remain idle, I fear the devil may just find work for them…”

“I really shouldn’t…”

“You look so withered, Zuzu. You’ll feel better after a hot meal. I promise!”

The platonic affection twined through the nickname catches him by surprise. Huffing, his cheeks colored pink, he stuffs his hat on his head to veil the darkening blush. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…”

“Yay!” You clap your hands together. “I’ll get started on tea.”

You weren’t going to give him much of a choice. Azul probably knows this by now, well-acquainted with your proclivity to play caretaker.

“This winter is particularly brutal,” he comments after you’ve fetched him a cup. It’s more of a change in subject than an observation. He shudders and burrows further into the warmth provided by his coat. “The worst time to die.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Winter is full of mistakes. Drunken mishaps at night, in which the victim slips on ice and falls into the sea… Sometimes we miss them, and so they aren’t found or retrieved until they start to float to the surface after everything thaws. I can’t begin to imagine how painful that must be—to not know where your loved one has disappeared to, only to find them just as the winter frost melts away to usher in spring.”

“Oh, that’s horrible!” You set the kettle down, and Azul watches steamy tendrils curl up towards the ceiling. “Does it ever scare you—the things you find?”

“I’ve seen so much it’s difficult to know what real fear even is.”

“Ah.” You glance over your shoulder at Jade as he opens the lid on the pot of stew. Your eyes drift over towards Azul once more. “You work hard. You deserve a break after your next case.”

“I could sleep forever when that day comes.”

“Retirement isn’t too far, is it, Ojiisan?”

Azul chokes around his breath. “Do I really look so old? Oh, my heart… If these sleepless nights don’t kill me, that assumption certainly will.”

You giggle. “Sorry, sorry. I meant to say you look as spry as ever.”

“You’re too happy to hammer nails into my coffin.”

“I do it with love. It’s our secret ingredient, you know!”

“So I’ve heard.”

The rest of your conversation stalls out. You wipe the counter with a fresh rag in hopes of giving yourself something to do while Azul reads through the newspaper and sips at his tea. You watch him in your peripheral vision. Is he taking care of himself? It doesn’t look like it, but you’ve known Azul long enough to be familiar with his level of responsible efficiency. Maybe this particular case has him in the trenches.

Just how hard are they working him over there?

As his friend you worry. In fact, you worry yourself sick. Every time he visits he’s in poor shape. Though he masks it with confidence, you can see the toll life is taking on him.

“Have you ever wanted to get married, Azul?”

“If I find the right person, sure.”

“But?”

“But, seeing as that has yet to happen, I have no interest in pursuing something that might waste my time and money. Emotions are exhausting, even more so when invested in something like romance. It’s better to put them towards something that will yield solid results. Like work, for example.”

“That outlook is so frigid! Don’t you wanna fall in love?”

“Love isn’t going to crack these cases,” he grumbles at the paper.

Jade appears at the little window cut into the wall. “Someone sounds like a love killer.”

“I’m only being realistic.” Azul scoffs. “Besides, you have no right to speak as a married man.”

“Envy is a wicked vice. I’ll gladly help you overcome it.”

You take the bowl of tonkotsu ramen from Jade and set it in front of Azul. “Okay, enough of that. Let him enjoy his meal in peace.”

“But I haven’t yet had my fill of fun.”

You reach through the horizontal window to gently tug on Jade’s ear. He rumbles with laughter. “Don’t bully the guests.”

“Why, I would never, my dearest.”

Azul watches this back-and-forth with a forlorn longing in his pale blues. Wordlessly, he sinks his soup spoon into the broth and lifts the noodles between his chopsticks. He eats with such zest it makes you wonder if this is his first meal of the day. Sensing your stare, he attempts to pace himself.

You smile sadly. He looks like he needs this.

“As always, it’s delicious,” he says once he’s made a sizable dent in the portion.

Jade basks in the praise. “I’m pleased you enjoy it.”

“But… Well.” The ghost of a frown settles on his weathered features. “The broth tastes different. You must’ve used a new seasoning. Or perhaps this is an expensive cut of pork? Whatever it is, it’s different. Not bad, mind you. I’m sure if it were anyone else it would’ve been difficult to catch.”

“Is this the impressive power of Detective Ashengrotto’s taste buds at work?” you joke, to which Azul flashes you a proud grin that’s more teeth than lip.

“Well, I have been using ingredients with better qualities as of late… I’m not very fond of serving cheap products to honored guests.”

“Isn’t my Jade so considerate? He’s too cute.” You stand up on your toes to kiss his cheek. “He even grows some of the vegetables himself. Green onions and mushrooms and the like.”

“Ah, of course. How could I forget that dubious green thumb of yours?” Azul muses, recalling the time in which Jade served him a new dish in exchange for valid critique. He had conveniently neglected to inform Azul that it contained mushrooms, something he has eaten plenty of in the time that he’s known you and Jade. So many that all varieties have been spoiled for him. “In any case, what’s the secret ingredient? Imported pork? Some sort of flavor that’s seeped in when left to simmer? No, not that… It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t place it!”

Jade chuckles. “There is no secret. It’s just love.”

Azul pokes around the bowl with his chopsticks, his eyes narrowed with an intense scrutiny. “I can recognize every other flavor. The meat, the green onions, the egg, the noodles… And I can parse the broth well enough. There’s just something else—a hint of something I’ve never tasted before. This profile is missing from my gastronomic lexicon.”

You tilt your head, puzzled. “Well, it’s the same broth, isn’t it?”

The both of you turn to Jade for his input. He nods. “My recipe and method haven’t changed.”

“So it’s still the same as before?” Azul’s nose wrinkles. “Strange. I was certain there was a taste of something more…”

Before he can dwell on it any longer, the radio at his hip crackles to life: “Sir, you’re needed at the port. We’ve got something you should see. Over.”

Azul detaches it from his belt and lifts it to his mouth. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t touch anything if you can help it. Out.” Releasing the button, he deflates briefly and then addresses you and Jade next. “It was wonderful seeing you again, but I’m afraid I must cut my visit short.”

“Then we won’t keep you.”

He moves to pull money from his wallet, but you stop him.

“On the house. You deserve it.”

Despite your generous offer, he still places the exact amount on the counter. “You won’t make profit if you’re giving food away for free.”

“Wha—but you’re a friend!”

“That makes it even worse. It’s not very fair to favor me to this extent.”

“Azuuul, don’t be so stubborn! You did this last time, too.”

“I surmise it will be much the same next time he graces us with his presence,” Jade says, eyeing you sympathetically.

“Ugh. Really… If you won’t let us treat you, at least promise you’ll take better care of yourself. No more skipping meals. Get a full eight hours. Prioritize yourself, too, okay?”

Azul starts for the door, so you miss the way he flusters up to his ears. They’re all very valid concerns, of course, but then he’s never been able to swallow the embarrassment that accompanies being unduly fussed over.

“I’ll do what I can,” he says instead and steps outside into the snowy afternoon.

You fold your arms over your chest and huff noisily. “What are we going to do with him? He’s in bad health and he still insists on being difficult. Must he faint before he realizes it?”

Jade emerges from the kitchen, sliding easily behind the counter where you stand. An amused glint shimmers in two-toned eyes. “I suppose we can only hope he’ll fix his bad habits sooner rather than later.”

“If only there were two of me… That way one could tend to the shop alongside you and the other could help him with his work.”

Jade embraces you firmly. With a giggle, you crane your neck to look at him.

“Two is much too troublesome.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because then I wouldn’t have you all to myself.” His lips curve into a practiced pout. “What if (Name) Number Two finds Detective Ashengrotto more desirable than her own husband?”

You reach up to pinch his cheek in light scolding. “You know that would never happen.”

“It’s a possibility.”

“I would never. If I did, that wouldn’t be the real me. I love you too much.” You twirl out of his arms to collect the dirty dishes. “Hey, since he’s no longer here, what was really in Azul’s ramen?”

“I haven’t the faintest inkling, my dear. I used the same ingredients I always do. Perhaps he was tasting something that wasn’t actually there?”

“Maybe… He looked pretty tired, Jade.” You peer at your reflection in the broth. “I wonder if he’ll be okay.”

“I’m sure he will.” Jade follows you into the tiny, compact kitchen. “You do know his penchant for smoking has worsened. I fear his sense of taste may be compromised from so many cigarettes. That, and age. Oh, but these are merely my own theories. He might have caught flavors of a love he’s never known before on those ruined taste buds of his.”

“Ah, right. Because everything you make is filled with love.”

“Not everything. There’s still something I’ve yet to fill with my love.”

He presses himself against you, his hands settling on your waist. You roll your eyes at his very obvious flirting.

“I’m assuming that something is actually a someone?”

“Indeed. And she’s standing right in front of me.”

His arms snake around your front so that you’re effectively trapped between him and the countertop. His hands close around your breasts to grope you through your shirt. You shiver against him when his fingers brush against the precise area of where your nipples are. It’s when he pinches both between his thumb and index that you finally shut the faucet off, surrendering to his touch instead of the dishes piled in the basin.

“At least close the front. What if someone walks in?”

“Unlikely,” he murmurs, his lips hot on your neck. His fingers slip under your shirt to undo the clasp of your bra. “It’s slow today. We can manage.”

You brace yourself at the sink and gasp when he grinds against your ass. “T-Ten minutes.”

“Only ten?”

“Would you prefer five? Your mouth is so smart today.”

“My love, I need only seconds to unravel you. You’re quite easy.”

You bark out a sharp laugh. “I’m not the one with the hard-on, my darling.”

“You’re too alluring, even in uniform. So beautiful, always and forever, my sweet wife.”

“Flattery isn’t going to get you out of dirty dish duty.”

“How cold… You rival the snow outside.”

You shift slightly to face him, offering him an impish grin. “I’d hate for my Jade to freeze. Let’s warm up together, all right?”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

And all the while, your voices filling the kitchen in unison, bodies pressed close, the pot continues to simmer on the stove.

ii. and i am the idiot with the painted face. in the corner, taking up space. but when he walks in, i am loved, i am loved.

“Can I ask you something, Floyd?”

“What’s up?” he answers around a mouthful of udon. A few strands hang out from between his lips, and he slurps them up in a motion so fluid it leaves you impressed. As for the mess he makes… Not so much.

“What’s the secret thing that’s been passed through your family?”

Floyd blinks at you, lost. “The secret thing?”

“It’s some ingredient or flavor or…whatever that Jade says is a family secret. I have no idea what it is. He won’t tell me no matter how many times I ask.”

“Ohhh, you’re talkin’ about Mama’s pot, right? That thing’s been in our family forever. She gave it to Jade cuz I didn’t want it.” Floyd points with his chopsticks, playfully accusatory. “What? You into cookware now? I can getcha somethin’ if ya want.”

“What’s this about cookware?” Jade asks, poking his head inside. He looks warm and comfortable in his nagagi and haori, a pleasant sight for your eyes, but the broom clutched in his hands tells a threatening tale.

Ignoring the fact that he so clearly eavesdropped, you wave him forwards so that you can straighten his scarf. Jade props the broom against the doorway before striding closer. He leans into your touch with a smug smile, which is shamelessly directed at his brother.

“Oh, you’re freezing! Let me fix you a cup of tea. You’ll catch your death if you spend any longer sweeping out there.”

“Thank you, my dear. I fear the chill is rather paralyzing…”

Floyd rolls his eyes. “He’s fine. Nothin’ he can’t handle.”

“I might just die.”

His dramatics don’t faze Floyd, but they do draw a chuckle from you. “We can’t have that.” You duck into the kitchen and return minutes later with a warm cup of chai. “Floyd was just telling me about your mother’s pot.”

“Was he now?”

“Only cuz Shrimpy asked.”

Jade blows at the steamy beverage to cool it before bringing it to his lips for a sampling. He hums his approval. “It’s quite special.”

Floyd slumps against the counter. “Whatever. It’s boring!”

“I suppose there isn’t much to discuss regarding an old pot.”

“Nothing we haven’t already mentioned.”

“Speaking of that… You thinkin’ about closin’ up the shop for the holidays? Pops’s been on my ass. He and Mama want you to visit.”

Jade gazes at you, but you’re already looking at him. “Should we?” you ask. “I’m not opposed. I just know you like running things here.”

“Not like you’re gonna get crazy business on Christmas.”

“No, but there are a fair amount of regulars who might stop by.”

“We should visit your parents, Jade. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, listen to Shrimpy. Mama’s been missin’ ya.” Floyd shovels more noodles in his mouth. “And afterwards we can all do somethin’ fun on New Year’s Eve.”

“That sounds great! Let’s do it!”

“S’no fun spendin’ the holidays workin’ yourself into the ground.”

“Exactly. Your brother makes a good point. What do you say, Jade? We’ll make the trip to see your parents and then come back in time for New Year’s Eve.”

Jade smiles, approving of the idea. “In that case, I should call Mother so she knows when to expect us.” Taking a final sip from his tea, he rises from his seat and disappears into the kitchen. Seconds later, you hear soft footfalls on the floor above.

“You really don’t know?”

Floyd shrugs. “No idea. The only thing that kinda fits the whole secret ingredient vibe is Mama’s pot. That’s been passed through the family. Other than that? I’ve got nothing.”

“Well… Yeah, that’s true. Maybe it really is nothing.”

Floyd laughs. “This sure means a lot to ya.”

“Of course it does! We’ve been married for two decades and I still don’t know what this ‘family secret’ is. Decades, Floyd! Surely he would’ve told me by now.”

“Is it really that important?”

“It is to me.” You gaze sidelong at the broom and inhale a steadying breath. “It feels like I’m not a part of the family if he won’t tell me something as simple as this. You’d think twenty years qualifies you as—”

“Hey, you’re always gonna be family to me.” Floyd’s hand reaches to cover yours. He hesitates and instead grabs another napkin. “Jade’s just bein’ a hard-ass. Gets it from our old man.”

“Do you think this ‘family secret’ is real?”

“Who knows? I’m sure he’ll fess up once he gets tired of playing this game.”

“Yeah, that sounds like my Jade. He’s really too much sometimes.” You shake your head and sigh. “Thanks for saying that, though. That part about me being family. It… It means a lot.”

“It’s the truth.” Floyd sets his chopsticks and chirirenge down, lifting the bowl to drink what’s left of the broth. He whistles, supremely satisfied, and slouches on the stool. “You ever need anything—doesn’t matter what it is or how much trouble you think it might be—just gimme a call. I’ll be there to help.”

“Thanks. A-Again. Truly.”

Floyd flashes you a toothy smile. “Don’t mention it.”

You collect his bowl, intending to bring it to the sink, but Floyd’s next words stop you in your tracks.

“Hey, Jade’s got that pot on, yeah?”

“The pot? Oh, yes, the pot! What about it?”

“Has it been stirred lately? You gotta do that once in a while, right?”

Your nerves, which had previously been pulled taut, smooth out. He’s referring to cooking. Nothing else. Just cooking.

“I’ll do that. Thanks for the reminder.”

“Mhm! Smells yummy, by the way.”

“Doesn’t it? Jade’s food is amazing.”

“Mine’s pretty killer, too. You gotta come over and try some.”

“If you’re cooking for me, you’ll have to cook for Jade as well.” You giggle to yourself as you cross into the kitchen, only for the laughter to stick in your throat.

Jade stands at the stove. He lowers the lid onto the pot and sets the wooden spoon aside. He was so quiet you hardly noticed him. How long has he been there? When did he return from upstairs?

“Oh, good timing! Floyd and I were just saying the pot needed to be stirred.”

Jade smiles and takes Floyd’s empty bowl from you. “Did we all have a collective thought just now?”

“Ooh, like telepathy?”

“Wouldn’t that be shocking? Three-way telepathy.”

You watch Jade set the bowl beside the others in need of washing. “That would be so noisy! Three times as many thoughts… I wouldn’t be able to hear myself think.”

“It’d be like watchin’ a show about the two of you,” Floyd pipes up from the front.

“Thankfully, that will never happen.” Jade guides you back out. You peer over your shoulder at the pot. “What a relief our minds aren’t connected. I don’t think I’d enjoy a stray listening in on our private affairs.”

You slap his arm gently. “Floyd’s not a stray!”

“Might as well be since it feels like he’s kickin’ me to the curb. So mean.”

“Not at all. I’m just making a distinction clear.” Jade’s smile is razored, his words catty. “You’re always welcome to visit so long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hands off the Shrimpy. I gotcha.” Floyd pops up from his seat and stretches. It seems as if all of Jade’s remarks, each born from petty possessiveness, roll off his shoulders. “I’m not gonna steal her from you if that’s what’s got you so worked up.”

“You couldn’t even if you tried.”

Floyd’s once easygoing expression sours. “You’re beggin’ for cement shoes, ain’tcha?”

Jade feigns offense, placing his hands over your ears even though it’s a pointless gesture. “For my own blood to threaten me in front of my sweet pearl… It brings tears to my eyes.”

“All right, all right! I’m goin.’ Geez.” Floyd struts out the door, not wanting to be manually shooed out by Jade and his beloved broom. “And don’t forget about New Year’s Eve!”

You wave farewell until he’s vanished out of sight. Only then do you turn to address your husband. “You ought to be nicer to him. He’s your brother.”

“I was. Very nice, in fact.”

“Really? How?”

“I didn’t charge him for the meal.”

iii. me and my husband, we’re doing better. it’s always been just him and me together. so i bet all i have on that furrowed brow. and at least in this lifetime we’re sticking together. me and my husband, we’re sticking together.

Everyone thought the odds were significantly slimmer than that of younger women—impossible by your standards—but somehow you’re pregnant at forty-four. You suspected it when you missed your period and then, just days prior, woke up with a terrible bout of morning sickness.

Standing in the bathroom, staring at the positive test like it’s a relic from Atlantis, you pinch yourself. Hard. It stings, and with this your disbelief mellows into something astonished.

Pregnant. You’re pregnant.

And this time you’re ready for a family. You’re ready to raise a child. Somewhat. Amidst every positive emotion there's anxiety and fear, and they reign so tyrannical that you almost forget you’re meant to be excited. Tamping down insecurity, you turn the test over in your hands.

I’ve got to tell Jade.

But before that you think back on the timeline in an effort to pinpoint the fateful day. After mapping it out for a brief while, you arrive at what’s possibly the least romantic way to conceive a child. Going at it raw and reckless in the kitchen, bent over a sink filled with dirty dishes and pressed against the wall… At least it was in a place both of you treasure.

Not the worst place, you think. I guess it doesn’t have to be a typical rose-petals-on-the-floor situation.

You’re practically vibrating out of your skin when you tiptoe out of the bathroom. Jade’s already downstairs. You can hear him humming as he works to open the shop. Hastily, you change into your work clothes and stuff the test in your pocket.

Jade’s notorious for his surprises, but it’s never been easy to return the favor. You mull over this facet of his character as you skip down the stairs. How can you shock him with this good news when he makes it so difficult? It’s as if he’s always two steps ahead, expecting the unexpected before it can even happen.

Jade brightens when you walk into the kitchen. He meets you halfway, lifting your hand to his lips. “Good morning. How did you sleep, my pearl?”

You squeeze his hand. “Like the dead.”

He chuckles. “I’m pleased it was so restful.”

You glance at the pot then and an idea sprouts. “Is there anything else that needs to get done? Is the front opened?”

“Just about. I need to prep a few more things here and then—”

“I can do it! It’s just stocking up on what’s low, right? That’s not very hard.”

“Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” You claim the spot he had once been standing in. He was in the process of filling a container with chopped green onions before you came down. “Go on and open the front. I’ve got things handled here.”

“I do so adore you.”

“I adore you more.”

“I adore you most.” He beams and stalks off through the doorway.

Now left to your own devices, you move to the sink and turn on the water to wash your hands. If all goes according to plan, you’ll open the lid, pretend something’s wrong with its contents, and when Jade comes over to investigate you’ll act as if you’ve pulled the positive test from the pot. It’s a harmless surprise. You’re sure he won’t be expecting it, especially since he’s the one who does all of the cooking.

After confirming Jade’s still busy with the front, you creep over to the stove. That infamous pot awaits. You slide your hand into an oven mitt and grab hold of the lid, lifting it slowly. You’re immediately hit with the delicious scent of bone broth, so fragrant it almost has you salivating.

Focus! I can eat after the big reveal.

You open your mouth to call Jade over and then pause.

Has he stirred it yet? It looks a little… No, it’s definitely murky. Is bone broth supposed to be this dark? Maybe I just need to stir it.

You lower the wooden spoon into the broth and, scraping along the sides and bottom, mix expertly. The bones knock into each other from the disturbance, and you inhale deeply. It reminds you of the tonkotsu ramen Azul fancies so much. You could go for a bowl right now.

You’re about to take the spoon out and cover the pot when something floats to the surface. Without meaning to, you recall Azul’s words from last month: Sometimes we miss them, and so they aren’t found or retrieved until they start to float to the surface after everything thaws. Curiously, you scoop the object up onto the spoon. Broth spills over into the pot and then you see it.

A finger.

A human finger.

What the fuck is a finger doing in Jade’s pot?

The nail has been plucked off and the skin is sagging away, turned to pliable mush from sitting in the pot for so long, but it is undoubtedly a finger.

A very real, very human finger.

Bile slithers up your throat with thick, acidic fingers.

Fingers.

There’s another one and then another. Three fingers. You poke around in the broth, dreading what else you might see. You don’t want to find a full set of ten. Anything but that. You count five and that’s all you can stomach before you’re shakily covering the pot with the lid. You set the spoon and oven mitt down next, your mind reeling.

You want to vomit.

You’re about to vomit.

You’re going to—

“(Name)?”

You whirl to look at him. Your husband. He stands in the doorway, a dark look on his face. You can’t describe the emotion, or lack thereof. It’s more of a shadow. An oppressive shadow. An intimidating shadow. A shadow that seems to say: You’ve seen too much.

“J-Jade!” How long has he been standing there? How much does he know? “Sorry. I… I felt sick just now. I think I should…rest a bit more.”

The gloom fades away into perfect placidity. “My, my. That’s not good.” He takes a step towards you and pauses when you jerk away. “Is everything all right?”

“Y-Yes, of course! I’m just…not feeling it today…or something.”

“I suppose it can’t be helped.” His eyes slide towards the stovetop. “I do so dislike getting into disagreements with you. So to avoid that I’ll ask once and only once. What did you see in the pot?”

Your spine stiffens, straight and still as a board, and you hang your head guiltily. “I… I’m sorry. I saw… W-Well, I don’t want to believe it. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding or a mistake of some kind. It’s just that—um… I… I saw…”

Fingers. Human fingers!

“I saw what I think is y-your secret ingredient. The thing—” your voice cracks, and you swallow thickly to push rising bile back— “Azul tasted that day…” “And that secret ingredient is…”

Tears brim and spill over in silent, horror-struck waterfalls. You risk a glance at your husband, and a wobbly smile pulls your lips apart.

“Love.”

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere jade leech #yandere jade leech x reader #yandere jade #yandere jade x reader

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hwaslayer · 2 months

Text

home (khj) | one shot.

—summary: when your home no longer feels like home.

—pairing: kim hongjoong x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) established relationship au | fluff, smut, heavy angst

—word count: 24k

—content/warnings: *open-ended, sad ending* cussing/mature language, very platonic cuddling and biting btwn oc and bff lol, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, intoxication, house party scenes, club scenes, making out, protected/unprotected sex, hongjoong’s pull out game on 100, marking/hickeys, thumb sucking, slight choking, breast play, clit play, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, praising, car sex, *toxic relationship themes (hints of infidelity, gaslighting/manipulation, jealousy, anxiety, bad temper, multiple heartbreaks, crying, yelling/loud arguing, friends getting involved during fights) - please proceed with caution*

—on rotation: change - arin ray & kehlani ・burn - usher ・snooze (acoustic vers) - sza & justin bieber ・ i wish i hated you - ariana grande

Home.

When you think of the word home, plenty of things come to mind: your family, fun times in the backyard with the grill going, home-cooked meals, the smell of the fresh tree and peppermint during Christmas time;

Hongjoong.

It’s been a little over 2 years since Hongjoong has made a home in your heart and continues to— him being your other half and knowing you like the back of his hand. Things started off so beautifully, blossoming into the greatest love you’ve ever known. You remember the day you met him like it was yesterday, remembering every single detail down to the weather, where you were at, how you were feeling at that exact moment;

The excitement, the infatuation, the thrill, the chase.

As beautifully as those moments blossomed, there were other moments that came crashing down, too.

So when you think of the word home, plenty of other things come to mind: loud arguments and hurtful words, doors being slammed, glass hitting the wall, crying till the point your chest hurts;

Hongjoong.

—LATE JUNIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE

“Dude!” Wooyoung runs over to your circle of friends, pushing through the crowd that’s currently in Changbin’s living room. “Cops are outside, we gotta go!”

“What do you mean we gotta go, Woo? We took a fucking uber—”

“Shut it down! Now!” You hear the cops at Changbin’s door, urging for the party to be shut down immediately due to multiple complaints from neighbors for being too loud and disturbing the peace. Quite frankly, it was past 1am and Changbin still had his dj playing music. On top of that, people were outside constantly yelling during rounds of beer pong and being a mess, even down on the sidewalk.

You couldn’t say you were surprised.

However, you are surprised with how fast Wooyoung is booking it. You don’t even know where your other friends are at, or where he’s even going.

“Jung Wooyoung, what the fuck! Where are we going?” You continue to run past him, barely able to catch up especially while drunk.

“This way!” He cuts through the backyard, down the alley and towards a random car you truly don’t recognize.

“Whose car is that?! Wooyoung!” You call for him, but he hops in anyway, dragging you along with him. Everything happens way too fast, you don’t even realize you’re smushed in the backseat of a mini SUV, sitting on someone’s lap. Everyone in the car is loud, the music is loud, the driver is no other than Jeong Yunho—

“Yunho?” You furrow your brows as you peek over the passenger’s seat, quickly glancing down at the unfamiliar individual sitting there. “When did you drive to the party?! Whose car is this?!” You look over to see another unfamiliar individual plopped in the left seat, with Wooyoung in the middle— your friend Ara on said unfamiliar’s lap.

“I told you at lunch that I was driving and asked if you two needed a ride. It’s my cousin’s.” He laughs. “He’s out of town and left the car with us. Told me I could use it if I wanted to. Just make sure no one fucking yacks or else I’m tossing you out. No question.”

“You did not!” You reply to the part where he claims he told you. He probably did, but you can’t remember for the life of you.

“Sure did. You were too busy arguing or whatever with Bin.” Hm, sounds about right, you think. Yunho looks at the rearview mirror to meet your eyes before shifting back to the road. “By the way, this is Mingi. That’s San. And dude you're sitting on is—.”

“Hongjoong.” You look behind you and see Hongjoong giving you a small smile just as he says his name. His hands are awkwardly at his sides, rosy tint coloring the surface of his cheeks as he tries to keep still as much as possible.

“I’m.. so sorry about all of this.” You tell him as you hang onto the headrest in front of you, apologizing to Mingi when your fingers accidentally tug on a hair strand.

“All good.” Hongjoong chuckles, a little unsure of what to do with himself. He’s only met you about a couple of minutes ago, and you’re already on his lap. How sway?

“I saw Yunho while I was trying to find an easy way out and he called for me to follow him, so..” Wooyoung says, but your eyes quickly divert to one of your friends who had been gone the entire night.

“Ara, where have you even been all night?” You tap her arm.

“Around.” She giggles, enjoying herself on San’s lap. They continue to talk amongst each other, and it’s clear where she’s been all night. Welp, as long as she’s happy, and as long as you all are out of trouble’s way.

“Shit, sorry.” Yunho says, abruptly braking.

“Jesus fucking christ, Jeong Yunho.” You put your hand out to stop yourself from crashing into the headrest, another pair of arms suddenly wrapping around your waist to keep you steady.

“Woah there. You good?” Hongjoong still has his arms wrapped around your waist, and you can’t help but shyly nod. You are too drunk for this.

“I wasn’t gonna make it! Sorry!” He points at the yellow light.

“You would’ve made it.” Mingi laughs.

“What would you know, you’re high as shit.” Yunho sighs. “Never being DD again with my cousin’s car. For real. I got somebody high in the front seat and 5 people in the back seat.” He looks around while he patiently waits for the light to turn. “Good thing it’s kinda dead out here.” Yunho quickly turns. “Anywhere we can hang out for a bit?”

“You can go to mine, my roommate is gone for the weekend.”

“You sure?” You nod.

“Yeah. Thanks for driving and letting us squish in here.” You give Yunho a small smile. “We can order some food when we get to my place.”

“Sick.” Yunho presses on the gas, driving at a safe speed down to your apartment. You learn that San, Mingi and Hongjoong go to the neighboring university, but they’ve known Yunho since middle school. For a minute, you forget you’re sitting on Hongjoong’s lap with how comfortable you’ve gotten, conversing with your friends as Yunho continues to drive to the apartment. And Hongjoong doesn’t mind either; hell, he’s forgotten about the entire situation, his hands resting on your thighs. If anything, he’s determined it could help in case Yunho decides to do a hard-brake again. You don’t seem to be uncomfortable and that’s all that matters.

So, all is well and Yunho brings everyone to the apartment in one piece. You immediately hop off of Hongjoong’s lap and quickly thank him for tonight before taking the lead with Wooyoung to your apartment door. Everyone else trails behind at their own speed, with Hongjoong digging his hands into his pockets while he observes you and Wooyoung loudly laughing at your door. You’ve got your arm linked with his as you both crack jokes and playfully bicker. At one point, Wooyoung bites your shoulder, causing you to yelp in pain and push him off. It’s an interesting relationship, he thinks. He’s never seen people be so close and comfortable, but he supposes it’s nice that you two are able to be that way.

“Get comfortable!” You say as everyone finally makes their way inside, kicking their shoes off to the side. “Water is in the fridge, along with other drinks. Feel free to grab anything.”

“Should we order some pizza and chicken?” Yunho is already scrolling through his phone. “That sounds bomb right now.”

“Yeah, that does. Order it and let us know how much we should chip in.” Wooyoung plops onto the floor, grabbing your remote off of the coffee table. “Dude, it’s still pretty early.”

“This is early to you?”

“The night is very much still young, my dear.” He says, pinching your cheeks. You smack his hand away before yawning into your own hands, excusing yourself to the bathroom to change and get comfy while everyone gets situated around the living room. Wooyoung throws on a random scary movie for some source of entertainment, some source of background noise. You quickly wash up and change into a matching hoodie and sweats set, startling yourself when you damn near run into Hongjoong lingering in your hallway. “Oh shit, you scared me.”

“Sorry.” He chuckles. “I don’t mean to seem like a creep, but I was just looking for your bathroom.. but.. I see you just came out of it, so..” He scratches at his temple and you giggle.

“I’m all done.” Hongjoong nods and brushes past, hurriedly making his way to the toilet to break the seal. Once he’s felt relief, he takes a minute to wash his hands and splash a bit of cold water to his face. He’s still feeling the alcohol, bits of the edible, too. But, he’s definitely not as crossed as earlier in the night. Just as he’s patting his face dry, he takes note of all your skincare laying around; that cute pink headband with a huge strawberry on it, various face sheet masks arranged neatly, random rings and other trinkets spread across the open space. Otherwise, both you and your roommate seem to be really organized and neat.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” He says when he catches you in your room. “For letting me borrow the bathroom.” You chuckle, Hongjoong’s eyes roaming around as he peeks in.

“You can come in, you know? My room isn’t entirely off limits.”

“I don’t want to intrude.” He gives you a small smile. “You do have a cozy room, though.”

“Thanks. I try.” You let out a tiny giggle, tossing your clothes into the hamper as he steps inside and slowly eyes the prints and photos organized beautifully along the off-white wall.

“These are nice. Do you order them from somewhere in particular?”

“No. I just look online and buy whatever looks good.” You stand next to him.

“But.. these photos. Did you take them?” He points at the scenic photos you took of and around Hanauma Bay during a family trip to Oahu years ago.

“Yeah.” You tilt your head to the side. “Wow, I miss Oahu. I think it’s time to tell my family we need to do something and go back.” He chuckles.

“They’re beautiful.” You look at him and give him a tiny smile. “Everything about them. The angles. Crisp edges.” He says softly, mainly to himself, but it’s still loud enough for you to hear.

“Thanks. Are you into photography or something?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I try to take my own pictures, too. Just like holding onto memories that way.”

“I agree.” He smiles at you before glancing at the rest of your room. Everything about your room is also neat, organized and incredibly in sync— if that makes sense. Everything follows a certain theme, a certain color tone. Whites, creams, soft pastels. His eyes just gloss over the room in such a smooth way, he’s positive you love being in here.

“Do you spend a lot of time in your room?”

“How can you tell?”

“The way you decorated it. You put a lot of thought into it. It’s really nice. I meant it when I said it looked cozy.”

“You’re just throwing compliments left and right. What did I do to deserve it?” You laugh, and it Hongjoong finds his smile growing bigger.

“I’m just being honest.”

“Well, thank you, Hongjoong. I appreciate it.”

“Are you two hooking up or something? The food is here!” Yunho is heard at the end of the hallway, careful to not walk into something he doesn’t wanna walk into.

“Yunho, why the fuck would I hook up with someone with the door wide open?” You ask as you lead the way out of the room, Hongjoong following behind and shutting your room door close.

“I don’t know, you’re drunk.”

“I’m pretty sober now after everything that’s happened.” Wooyoung is at the coffee table, already spreading out the pizza boxes next to the bucket of chicken.

“So, you weren’t making out in there?” You smack Wooyoung upside the head before plopping down next to him. Hongjoong lets out a small laugh, taking a seat at the end of the coffee table while Mingi does the same on the opposite end. Ara and San are still flirting a storm on your couch, while Yunho takes a seat on Wooyoung’s free side.

“Do you want me to be?”

“I’m sure Hongjoong would be down, you were already pressed up on his lap earlier.” He whispers right into your ear.

“Oh my god. What’s wrong with you?” You pinch him on the thigh, making him yelp in response.

“I’m just saying you deserve all the fun, baby. Jesus. Just go for it next time.” He continues to tease. “Anyway, here. Let’s eat up.”

“What’s playing on the TV right now?” Yunho asks, already gobbling down a slice.

“Who fucking knows, but it’s kinda funny.” Wooyoung laughs at the screen. For the rest of the night, everyone is eating to their heart’s content and actually watching whatever movie happens to be playing on the TV. You stand for a moment to grab some water from the kitchen, unaware that Hongjoong had followed you over to grab another bottle of his own.

“Mind if I grab one, too?”

“Here.” You hand him the bottle, cocking a brow up when Hongjoong hasn’t stopped staring at you.

“Um.” He chuckles and points to your cheek. “May I? You.. there’s sauce.” You giggle.

“Oh shit, wow. That’s embarrassing.” He wets a paper towel before gently dabbing at your cheek, eyes focused on getting the sauce off of your skin. His face is merely inches away, hand gently holding your chin up towards the light.

“There.” He says softly. Except, Hongjoong doesn’t release his grip from your chin right away, eyes now glazing over your features. You’re really, really pretty, and something about you is enticing to him; even if you two have barely known each other for the night, you are enticing and he is curious about you.

“Thank you, Hongjoong.” You say ever so sweetly and it confirms the thoughts swirling in his head— intoxicated or not.

“You’re welcome.” His thumb grazes over your cheek for one last quality control check before he steps back. “Wanna catch the rest of the movie?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Truth be told, Hongjoong isn’t even sure how the whole night unfolded this way. He wasn’t even planning on going out, but leave it to Mingi, San and Yunho to convince him until the very end. He had noticed you ever since the party, eyes glancing around the living room over the edge of his cup while he people-watched, took in his surroundings. What caught his eye the most was how bubbly and energetic you were around everyone, always being the life of the party and genuinely enjoying yourself. You’d loudly laugh and joke, smile from ear to ear while dancing around with a bag of chips in your hand. You didn’t have to do much to be that way, and Hongjoong could tell you were only being yourself. He liked that. He liked seeing you happy, he liked seeing you be you.

So colorful, vibrant.

But, truthfully, he was afraid to make a move. Mainly afraid, but he also knows what kinda wreck he’s been lately. Just lots of shit, lots of baggage— he’s not sure what he’s really ready for or if he’s ready for anything. The thoughts alone are enough to keep him still in his place, pushing certain desires and wants to the back of his mind to try and focus on fixing his shit first.

He can be selfish sometimes, though. It is beautifully dangerous for Hongjoong. Beautiful because it works, dangerous because it works.

So at the end of the night, after Hongjoong watches you giggle away to the stupid movie on the TV, after watching you happily gobble away at the pizza and chicken, after your hands grazed over his a few times; he is going to be selfish.

That would change the trajectory of everything for him, for you.

Ever since that night, Hongjoong and his friends would invite you and your friends to hang out at their apartments and vice versa— engaging in casual drinking over board games and more movies. Every hangout led to you and Hongjoong getting closer and closer, teetering into new territory quicker than you both imagined.

“Hey.” Hongjoong says, stepping out onto his balcony where he finds you getting some fresh air. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here?” He jokingly teases, making you roll your eyes even though you feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Ew, don’t ever.” He laughs, swinging an arm around your shoulders.

“Why are you smiling like that then?”

“Not because of you.” You tease.

“I don’t see anyone else out here.” He looks down at you. “Seriously, what’s up? You okay?”

“Just wanted to get some air.”

“Wanna go for a walk with me, or do you wanna stay here?”

“Can we stay here? I was looking up at the stars.” You look up. “They’re so bright tonight, Joong. I feel like I haven’t seen them like this in forever.”

“Hm.” He hums, eyes glued onto your side profile. You’re not even doing anything in particular, but this moment right here makes Hongjoong want to pull you close.

Kiss you.

Hold your hand.

“Are you looking?” You look at him with a brow cocked up and he laughs.

“Honestly, nah. I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m just..” He pauses, brushing the hair away from your face. “Let me take you out on a date.”

“You— wait, what?”

“Let me take you out on a date.” He chuckles, pressing his lips against the side of your head. “Please?” Hongjoong had been a bit more affectionate with you as time went on, and you welcomed it because whatever he was feeling, you surely were feeling too. Unspoken feelings and little acts of affection kept you going, and you thrived on it, if you were being honest. You loved the cute ‘lil pinches on your side, the ‘lil moments where he’d grab your hand and let it linger for awhile, the ‘lil moments you’d catch him staring at you from across the room, the ‘lil texts that showed you were on his mind in one way or another. It was the subtle chase, and you loved it.

“A date, hm?”

“I’m serious.” He clicks his teeth in defeat, making you giggle.

“Alright, yeah. Take me out on a date, Hongjoong.” He smiles.

“Yeah? It’ll be fun.”

“Where are you planning on taking me?”

“Why would I tell you that, pretty?” He boops the tip of your nose. “I promise. I got you.”

And to that end, he did. He fulfilled his promise, and he did have you. He took you to a basketball game, one that you had been dying to catch for months, but never had the time to do so. He picked you up that morning and drove to the arena 45 minutes away from campus. It wasn’t like any other date you’ve been on, no. But, it was a date you enjoyed because you had fun and you were comfortable enough to be yourself around him already. You screamed together, you yelled at the refs together, you cheered on the team together. During the game, he’d hold your hand or throw an arm over your shoulder before giving you a quick peck on the cheek or temple. You don’t know what it is, but you trusted him. A lot. Quickly, too.

After the game, he took you out for dinner at a casual restaurant nearby, asking you to order whatever you wanted and that he’d cover everything, as long as you were happy. The two of you talked about everything and anything about life, and you felt like Hongjoong understood you just as you did with him. You knew a bit about his family after all the kick-its and hangouts your friends had. You knew he had an older brother he looked up to and adored, you knew he loved his parents more than anything. You knew he loved his senior dog named Momo, and you knew he cherished his childhood home, his friends— near and far. He knew you also had a good relationship with your family, and he knew the little things about you that made you.. you. It was an equal situation of give and take; not one taking more or less than the other.

Sooner or later, more dates occurred, the affection and PDA progressed to the point that everyone automatically paired you two together. Wherever he was, they’d figured they’d find you there and vice versa. It wasn’t until the date at the baseball game a month later when he made things official with you. Hongjoong knew all the right things to do, all the right things to say. It almost felt unreal that you had him by your side— a stranger whose lap you sat on just to get away from the cops, a stranger you knew nothing about and had no intentions of getting close to.

That stranger became everything to you in such a short amount of time, but you didn’t want it any other way. It felt good being with Hongjoong, and it felt like pure bliss being with him. You were certain you had finally reached cloud nine, and you didn’t think you’d ever come down from it.

“Hello?” You pick up the phone just as you begin to walk to the parking lot after your last class; books tucked against your chest, bag strap slung on your shoulder.

“Hey baby, did you just get out of class?”

“Mhm. Finally! I’m so tired today.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. You don’t have anything else going on tonight, do you?”

“No, but I have homework to finish and I definitely have to study for our next test. What about you? How was school today?”

“Same old. Can’t complain. I just have some things to finish tonight, too.” You hear rustling in the background, followed by his door shutting.

“Did you just get home?”

“Yeah. I went to the gym really quickly.” He lets out a sigh. “I miss you.”

“Aw, I miss you, too. You’ll see me tomorrow, though.”

“I know but.. it feels like a long time from now.” You step into your car and let out a breathy giggle. “Do you wanna just stay over tonight?” You pause, hearing the question come from him. You’ve hung out at Hongjoong’s apartment more times than you can count, but you’ve never stayed the night since Hongjoong was always so careful about being too quick or pressuring you into doing something you weren’t ready for. It’s not that you weren’t ready, and you definitely thought about it more recently. But, you were also shy because it felt like a huge step for you and Hongjoong’s relationship. Though, you knew he’d enjoy it just as much as you would. You just had to overcome all of your overthinking and get over your assumptions, you think.

“Joong, I have to study tonight.”

“Study at mine. I won’t bug you.” He laughs. “I have some homework I gotta get through, too.” Silence. “Baby, no pressure but I really just miss you.”

“Joongie.” You almost whine. You miss him, too. You really, really do. “Okay, yeah.”

“Really?” He says excitedly.

“Mhm.” You laugh. “I just need to go home, shower and pack a few things.”

“Mmkay. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“Okay.”

“See you soon, pretty girl.” You hang up the call, eyeing the phone before shaking your head and driving home. Not gonna lie, you were extra nervous. You were excited to finally spend the night with him, but you were nervous. You were nervous thinking about what the night would bring. What could it possibly bring? Were you two really gonna study and just go to sleep? Would Hongjoong expect things from you? Hongjoong would kiss you, slowly make out with you and touch you in certain places, but never expected more from it— again, mainly because he was afraid to unintentionally pressure you in any way.

Welp.

You quickly brush your thoughts away and hop in the shower before throwing on a lazy outfit consisting of an oversized sweater and biker shorts. You pack up some things, telling your roommate you’ll be back tomorrow. She teases you a few times about finally sleeping over, yelling from her room that she’ll be excited to hear details if you actually do come back the following day.

When Hongjoong comes, it’s about 15 minutes after you finish packing. He tells you he’s parked near the curb out front, slipping into your shoes and rushing out the front door to greet him. He’s in a hoodie and sweats, hood up on his head while he scrolls through his phone waiting for your arrival.

“Hi.” You happily say, hopping into the passenger’s seat after dropping your bags into the trunk.

“Hey.” He beams at you, leaning over for a kiss. “Ready?” You nod, buckling in your seatbelt. Hongjoong stops by the nearest McDonalds to grab some greasy fast food for you two to indulge in while you both study away.

The apartment is quiet tonight, with San being out and Mingi studying away in his room. The both of you make a beeline to his room, Hongjoong hauling your bags while you take charge of carrying the food in. You place the bag down on the desk, carefully setting the food onto the surface. You let out a squeal when you feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in between his legs when he settles onto the edge of his bed.

“I missed you. I’m glad you’re staying tonight.” His hands are at your hips, gently squeezing before caressing your bare skin.

“I missed you, too.” You cup his cheeks and give him a kiss on the lips.

“Let’s eat first?” He chases after your lips for another quick kiss. “You’ll have energy to study.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You give him a tiny, toothless smile. You and Hongjoong talk about your day in more detail while eating, laughing and teasing each other before settling down for the rest of the evening. He offers you a shirt to change into so you can be more comfortable, and you take it; slipping into it with ease before plopping back onto his bed with your books in hand. You tuck one leg in, while the other is propped out, with Hongjoong laying on his stomach next to you. He plants random kisses along your leg from time to time, throwing an arm over to hold onto it while he continues to work through his homework.

Surprisingly, you do finish everything.

“Babe.” You call for him as you shut your books close about two hours later, Hongjoong now folding some clothes and putting them away in his closet.

“Mhm?”

“I’m done.” You smile, packing your things into your backpack.

“Nice. See, I told you I wouldn’t bug you.” You laugh, making grabby-hands at Hongjoong.

“Are you almost done, though?”

“I am. Just a few more, then we can cuddle for the rest of the night. Sound good?” You nod.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You hop off and grab your toiletries, throwing on a random pair of Hongjoong’s extra sweats before waddling to the bathroom. You take your time brushing your teeth, washing your face and getting cozy for the night before heading back into Hongjoong’s room. He’s back on the edge of his bed, this time, sorting through Netflix to find something to watch. You carefully slip under his sheets, texting away with Ara and Wooyoung until Hongjoong shuts off his lights and slips in next to you.

The one thing you’ve learned from Hongjoong is that he always gives you his full attention. He never scrolls through his phone for long if you’re with him, doesn’t let other shit occupy his attention. It’s you, and it’s always about you.

So, you set your phone aside and let him pull you into his arms, fixing the pillows so you could comfortably lay on his chest while he lays back against the headboard.

“You okay, baby? Comfortable?” He asks softly. You nod and he gives you a sweet, feathery kiss on the top of your head before starting the movie. There’s silence that falls between you two when the movie begins, but it’s comfortable. It’s sweet, it’s comfortable, it’s peace. Hongjoong gently runs his hand up and down your arm, tracing faint shapes on the surface as a small, reassuring way of saying he loves taking care of you— loves keeping you safe, warm.

Eventually, the movie hits the halfway mark, and you’re kinda over it. You’re over it because all you wanna do is kiss Joong and lazily make out with him until you can’t anymore. You just want him, all of him, and you don’t really wanna wait for the next opportunity to come around when you can have him here, right now. In this bed.

“Babe.” You call for him softly as you rest your chin on his chest and look up at him.

“Hm?” He hums, eyes still glued to the TV.

“Pay attention to me.” You pout, making him shift his attention from the screen down to you.

“I am.” He laughs a bit, hand gently massaging at your scalp. “What can I do for you, baby girl?”

“Just want a kiss.”

“Mm. I’ll be more than happy to give you that.” He smiles. “C’mere.” He adjusts once more while you rise and bring yourself closer, lips locking onto his the moment you are close enough to do so. Even after you pull away, you repeatedly kiss him— Hongjoong squeezing your side in between kisses as a way to encourage you to keep going.

And you do.

The kiss deepens and the movie is now a long-gone thought in the background; simply filling noise, filling space. He lets out a soft sigh when you tug back on his bottom lip and suck onto it, following up with another kiss to keep the intensity alive. Your tongues are fighting for dominance, giving Hongjoong leverage to lay you down onto the mattress while he hovers over your body.

His lips trail down your jaw, down to your neck. He gently nips and sucks at the surface, leaving marks along the way to show off who you truly belong to in this crazy, fucked up world. You are his, and his only.

“Wanna take care of you, baby. Can I?” He pauses as his hand slowly travels underneath your shirt and up your side, thumb caressing right under your bra line. You simply nod, feeling his hand travel to the back of your bra to unhook it in one quick move. You help by tugging your straps down and tossing the bra off to the side, Joong’s hand now coming up to cup your breast— letting out a shaking breath when he toys with your perked nipples.

“Joong.” You whimper. He gives you a look before he pulls your shirt upward, tongue carefully swirling around a bud before repeating the same on the other. He watches as your back slightly arches in response, goosebumps etched on your chest, arms. He plants chaste kisses down your stomach, trailing down to your clothed core.

“Is it okay if I keep going?” He whispers, fingers toying with the band of your cute red panties.

“Please.” You respond, arousal overflowing in the pit of your gut. He hooks his finger onto your panties and slides them off, biting onto his bottom lip when he finally has you like this under his hold. To be honest, you’ve never really had fulfilling sexual experiences in your previous relationship. The sex was good, but it wasn’t great, nor was it memorable. Your ex had a tendency to fuck for one purpose only, and that was to get himself off. He’d never go down on you, but he’d finger you as part of the foreplay. He’d keep it to missionary, never really down to explore other positions or find something that’ll spice up shit in the bedroom. But you were young, so you never really complained. You truthfully thought that was how sexual experiences worked— who were you to fight against that if you didn’t really have anything else to work off of or compare it to?

The other thing about Hongjoong is that he is keen on showing you differently, satisfying and pleasing you to the end. Because it’s you, and it’s always about you.

His thumb presses against your clit, earning a small gasp from you. He smiles at how sensitive you are, damn near begging him to touch you in all the right places, fuck you ‘till you can’t walk. And he will, but he wants to explore you first; really explore you and take you in.

“You’re so beautiful.” His eyes are glued onto you, slipping in two digits inside of you. “So wet.” He curls his fingers just right, pumping them at a perfect rhythm.

“Oh— Joongie.” You let out, toes curling at the end of the bed, hands gripping the sheets when he lowers himself back down in between your thighs; pressing sweet kisses to the inner parts before coming down to your pussy. Everything feels so slow, yet so intimate and special, even when Hongjoong finally latches on and laps away at your clit while his digits continue to pump into you. You’re moaning a little louder now, but he only hopes the TV is loud enough to muffle the noises because he truly could care less about shushing you and trying to keep it down for his roommates.

Oops.

So as to say that you’ve never had memorable sexual experiences with your past, you’ve also never really felt what a real, raw orgasm felt like. And when the first one hits you, it feels like a certain high where all you hear are fireworks exploding. You tremble in his grip and Joong soothes you by kissing you all over, praising you for doing so well, whispering that he’d continue to take care of you. He digs for a condom in his nightstand, sheets draped over his body when he sits back to roll the condom down on his length. Your eyes can’t help fix on it, his tip red and angry— ready to feel you, make you feel good but equally ruin you in the best possible ways.

He eases himself in, lips grazing over yours as he locks eyes with you. The both of you let out soft moans while adjusting to the feeling, Joong keeping a slow pace until you’re more comfortable.

“Keep going.” You manage to whisper against him, enjoying the feeling of being full of him. He picks up his pace, rocking his hips at a steadier pace that has him muttering curse words to himself, your nails digging into his back while your moans get a little louder.

“Baby.” He chuckles. “Fuck— you sound so sexy, but—” He pants a bit, furrowing his brows as he forces himself to hold on a little bit longer. “Mingi.”

“I can’t.” You whine. “Feels too good.” He lets out another shaky breath hearing that slip from your lips, his ego climbing just a bit knowing he can make you tremble under his grip, knowing he has you wrapped around his finger like this.

“So good.” He responds. “So good for me, princess. You’re so, so good.” He praises you, nibbling on your earlobe when his hips snap at a messier, rougher pace. He sucks on your neck more, darkening the reddish blobs littering across the column. You start to move your hips to match his movements, earning a deep groan from Hongjoong. “Ohhhfuck, Y/N. I won’t last.” He dips his thumb down to your clit, wanting to push you over the edge so, so badly. “Can you come for me again, baby? Hm?”

“Hongjoong.” You repeatedly moan his name like a mantra, feeling the coil in your stomach threatening to snap any second now.

“Mhm, that’s it. Come all over me. Give it to me.” He coaxes you. Suddenly, your orgasm washes over and makes your bones feel like jelly; everything sounds and feels like white noise even when Hongjoong snaps his hips roughly, chasing his high until he spills into the condom.

“Holy fuck.” You manage to let out as you try to regulate your breathing— eyes glossy, lips swollen, hair a mess, hickeys covering your neck. It’s a beautiful fucking sight to Hongjoong, and god, does he love seeing you underneath him like this.

“God, you’re perfect.” He kisses you on the lips, carefully removing himself from inside of you. He steps out of the bed and tosses the condom into the trash, slipping back into his sweats to grab the wipes from the bathroom. “You’re so pretty.” He laughs, watching as you lie there, letting him clean you up and take care of you.

“This is pretty to you?”

“Incredibly.” He smiles. “Gonna grab us some water.” He turns to the TV. “Fuck the movie, I guess?” You laugh.

“Yeah, I’m sleepy.”

“Okay, baby. I’ll be right back.” He kisses your forehead before running out to grab some water.

“I see you two were having some fun.” Mingi says with a smirk on his face, exiting the bathroom after a quick shower. Hongjoong truthfully didn’t even hear his ass walk into the bathroom and step into the shower.

“Oops. My bad, dude. We’ll keep it down next time.” Hongjoong chuckles, returning to the room with some water. “Here, drink some. You should probably go pee, too.”

“Joong, I’m so lazy.” You respond after chugging some water.

“Go.” He hands you the sweats you were wearing earlier. You roll your eyes and shove them on, earning a quick ass-slap from Hongjoong for the attitude.

You definitely slept well that night.

And the next morning felt even more perfect, being that you didn’t wake up to a Hongjoong next to you; but, you did wake up to a Hongjoong bringing you a plate of breakfast in bed. He cutely sat on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair out of your face while the other hand held a plate with rice, eggs and spam drizzled in sriracha. You certainly didn’t wanna leave him that day, especially when he pressed repeated kisses against your lips in the car— reassuring you he’d be back to pick you up after classes.

“How was it?” Wooyoung asks as you two sit in the café before classes, raising a brow at the hickeys you’re trying to cover with your sweater [but clearly failing]. “Or should I even ask?” He scratches at his neck as a way to point out your hickeys.

“Uh.” You fiddle with the straw on your drink, biting onto your bottom lip to prevent yourself from smiling too big.

“Ew.” He laughs. “You’re so bad at hiding them, dude. Did he try to eat you or something?”

“You asked!” You tuck your hoodie up. “I didn’t think he’d give me that many hickeys.”

“Mm.” Wooyoung hums. “At least it was good.” He snorts, making you toss a crumpled napkin at his face.

“He made me breakfast in bed, too.”

“You spoiled little brat.” He laughs, this time earning a kick under the table. “Ow, you’re so fiesty today!” He complains.

“Woo, listen to me.” You pout.

“What? The fuck can you possibly be sad about when you got the best fuck of your life and breakfast in bed?”

“Sometimes, I feel like he’s too good to be true.” You give him a look.

“What, why?”

“He’s just so good to me.”

“And you deserve to be loved that way, Y/N. Don’t ever question that shit.” Wooyoung points at you in a scolding manner. “I can tell he genuinely cares about you and really, really likes you. Let the guy love you.”

“Really?” He smiles and nods.

“Yeah, really. It’s the cutest shit. You two are cute.” He pats himself on the back. “Say thank you Wooyoung for throwing us in the backseat of Yunho’s car.”

“Fuck no, you wish.” You joke. Though, you really are grateful for that specific moment. You are grateful to Wooyoung and his irrational, loud, spontaneous ass. You are grateful that Yunho just happened to be there, right at that very second, with the people he was with. Because it brought you to Hongjoong, the one person that has become your homie, lover and friend all in one.

So yeah, maybe Wooyoung is right. After your shitty exes and unfulfilling relationships, maybe you do deserve this.

All of this.

—SUMMER

“Y/N, my favorite!” Hongjoong’s dad says happily as he stands at the front door, watching you step out of the car.

“Hi to you too.” Hongjoong jokes with his dad, making him push Hongjoong out of the way in order to pull you into a big hug. “Mom, your husband doesn’t know how to show love to his youngest son!” Hongjoong yells into the house.

“Hi!” You hug him back before stepping into the house, kicking off your shoes and setting your duffle bag down. His mom comes to greet you, followed by his older brother and his dog, Momo.

“You look so cute today.” His mom says, bringing you to the dining table. “Come eat, I just finished cooking. I made sure to get you some fried fish since I know it’s your favorite.” You sit and look up at her with appreciation before letting out a small ‘thank you.’

When Hongjoong first told you that his family really wanted to meet you, you were scared. You were scared, and you were nervous. All you wanted to do was make a good impression, enough for them to like you and support your relationship with their son.

But it ended up being so much more than that, and you were super happy with the outcome.

You had built such a strong bond with his family over time, just as he did with yours. You constantly wanted to join Hongjoong when he visited home. His parents always asked about you, always wanted to know when the next time you’d drop by. Sometimes, his parents would drive down just to hang out and see you both. Hongjoong had taken you to a huge family gathering or two, his parents proudly showing you off to their family members.

It went the same way with your own parents, but your parents weren’t as adventurous as Hongjoong’s. They loved taking weekend trips to nearby places, while your family loved staying home and being in their comfort zone with the occasional family trips here and there. Your family wasn’t as big as his, and your family loved being lowkey. It wasn’t a problem, but you ended up hanging out with Hongjoong and his family more just because they were closer to the universities and had more plans in store. Plus, you bonded with his father and his older brother over basketball. It was always a good time.

“What time are you guys heading to the party tonight?” His dad sits on the opposite side, already digging into the fried fish that laid flat in the center of the table.

“I don’t know, probably 9 or something.” Hongjoong picks at the fish, dropping pieces into your bowl of rice.

“Whose house is it at?”

“Joshua’s.” His dad nods.

“Y/N, you’re finally gonna meet his childhood friends.” You nod.

“I know, I can’t wait.” You giggle.

“They’re all obnoxious freeloaders.” Hongjoong’s mom laughs while she washes the pans in the sink, telling his father to be nice.

“So what hotel are we staying at over the weekend?” The main reason you two came down for the weekend was because it was a childhood friend’s birthday, and because his parents had plans to do a weekend staycation at a hotel nearly 1.5 hours away. They invited you two to come along, especially since his brother was tagging along, too.

“It’s a smaller one, but it has suites. Ours has a full blown kitchen, living area and two rooms. But we have to sneak Momo in.”

“What do you mean we have to sneak Momo in?” Hongjoong chuckles. “You didn’t check if it was a pet-friendly hotel?”

“I think it is, but I’m not sure. It’s too late to ask anyway. He won’t make a peep.” The both of you turn to Momo sleeping in his crate.

“Yeah, he’s an old man.”

“You and your brother need to sleep out on the pull-out couch so Y/N has the room to herself.”

“Babe, I’m gonna slip into your room.” You playfully nudge him in the midst of eating, rolling your eyes.

“I’m sure the couch will be just as great, Joongie.”

“Don’t be like that.” He pouts.

“Give her some space, my goodness.” You laugh at his mom’s response, excited to spend the weekend with them nonetheless.

The night comes rather quickly, especially after you’ve walked Momo with Joong and tagged along to buy some groceries for the weekend staycation. You’ve dressed yourself up in a cute little mini skirt and a top, while Hongjoong is sporting a white Stussy shirt, black jeans and a backwards cap. The house isn’t too far from his own; the town that his family lives in not being incredibly huge. He pulls up to a block lined with big, two-story homes [similarly to his], parking in a spot around the round-about. The house at the corner is flooding with people— either hanging out outside or in the house, and the music is muffled behind the walls of the house.

“Ready, baby?” You give him a nod and he quickly leans over to kiss you on the lips. The two of you walk hand in hand towards the house, Hongjoong already greeting people the moment you’ve stepped onto the property.

You’re a bit relieved when you see San, Mingi and Yunho hanging around in the house, instantly greeting them while Hongjoong continues to say his hellos. It’s not long before you’re returning back to his side because Hongjoong is proudly introducing you to everyone as his girlfriend, his lady, his girl; arm either swung around your shoulder or your waist. Even though these are people he mainly grew up with, you didn’t feel entirely left out with how down-to-earth and outgoing everyone was.

“Let me get you something to drink.” Hongjoong kisses your temple before tapping your hips and leaving you to Yunho, San and Mingi.

“Dude, I’m glad you came tonight.” Yunho swings an arm around you. “Where’s Woo at?”

“He went home, too! He’s barely been around his apartment cause he’s been spending time with family.”

“He does hate being around school.” You laugh.

“He does.”

“Did you get to meet everyone? I think mostly everyone’s here.” Mingi looks around, sipping on his drink. Hongjoong comes back around with a red cup full of a sweet, fruity cocktail in his hand. He hands you the cup and presses another chaste kiss to your lips before hugging you from behind.

“I think so.” Right at this moment, more roars are coming towards the backyard door where a few heads walk in. Loud greetings and hugs are being thrown towards the group that just arrived, Hongjoong, Yunho, San and Mingi happily greeting the guy that walks in first.

“My guy!” Hongjoong daps him up and everything, even with his one arm still wrapped around your shoulder.

“Kim fucking Hongjoong, it’s about time! I haven’t seen you in so long, dude!” The guy looks down at you with a big smile, giving you a curt nod. “Who’s the pretty lady? Is this Y/N?”

“Sure is.” Hongjoong smiles. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, Jisung.” He properly introduces you.

“I’ve heard so much about you.” He smiles, his semi-long permed black hair cascading down the sides of his face. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Truthfully, you’ve probably only heard Jisung’s name tossed around a few times, but Joong has never really talked about him like that. It does make your heart soar that he’s proudly talking about you and beaming about your relationship.

A girl comes up behind Jisung and loudly greets Yunho, San and Mingi. Her eyes simply glaze over you and Hongjoong, but she manages to mutter a small ‘hey’ before pulling Jisung to the drinks. It’s not until someone calls out her name that you realize it’s Hongjoong’s Tara; his ex, Tara. You don’t miss how Hongjoong’s smile fades a bit, and how his body becomes rather stiff. But, he manages to play it off well— returning his attention to you as if the vibe switch never happened. He had always been honest about his relationship with her, telling you that they had always been close before they started dating. But unfortunately, all of that has gone to waste with how awful their break up was. He doesn’t give you details on the breakup— how, why or when it happened. You just know that they’re awkward, and that they’re back to being strangers.

It is what it is, he says. Maybe it just works out better that way.

You never pressed on it, never asked him more. Because whatever Hongjoong was willing to share was okay with you, and as long as he was okay, you were okay. Same thing goes for you and your ex— Hongjoong never pressed you to share what you weren’t comfortable with; but he damn sure made up for everything you had gone through in your previous relationship. He made sure to kiss every scar, every wound, every thought, that made you believe you weren’t enough or that you lacked in certain areas.

Because to him, you truly didn’t. You were one of a kind.

Throughout the night, you and Hongjoong continue to stick to each other, sharing affectionate moments in between silly dances. Tara surprisingly didn’t make her presence known much, and that eased the anxiety you felt when she first walked in. It’s not like you expected him to be bothered purely by the way he talked about their history, but at the same time, you didn’t know what to expect and you didn’t know her. You just wanted to have a good time with him and the people he enjoyed being around. You loved being with him more than anything, and you loved the attention he always gave you. You didn’t have to ask because Hongjoong always gave, always made sure to take care of you before anyone else.

Towards the end, you find yourself clinging close to Yunho and participating in a round of beer pong with him while Hongjoong steps outside to take a few hits of a blunt Jisung made.

“I’m glad you brought Y/N along. I’ve been dying to meet her since your ass talks about her so much.” Joong laughs just as he exhales.

“That’s my girl.”

“You look hella happy with her.”

“I am. We just.. fit. She really does make me happy.” Joong takes another hit.

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” Jisung chuckles. “So does that mean..?” Joong looks at him because he already knows what he’s talking about.

“We’re not really talking.”

“That’s not what I was gonna ask, though.” Jisung cocks a brow up. “I’m assuming you’re over her and everything since Y/N is around now.”

“Mhm. Yeah.” Is all Hongjoong says. “Been over with.”

“Okay.” Jisung responds. He leaves it at that because even though a tiny part of him feels like Hongjoong isn’t actually over it, who is he to argue against it? Only Hongjoong knows what’s going on in that head of his. Jisung can only hope you don’t get hurt by anything in the end because you seem like a genuinely nice and sweet girl.

Once Hongjoong and Jisung are done smoking, he comes to find you finishing up the round with Yunho. He celebrates your victory, showering you in kisses before whispering in your ear that he wanted to get the fuck up out of there. You take the keys from him and step into the driver’s seat, sober enough compared to your boyfriend since Yunho took all the beer during beer pong. The both of you recount different moments of the party, with you telling Hongjoong that you really enjoyed meeting his group of friends from home.

“Baby.” He breaks the silence, hand on your thigh and giving it a good squeeze.

“Yes?” You quickly look over at him before looking back out to the road.

“You’re so pretty.” He says, the weed still in his system; eyes still glossy and red. “I liked seeing you have fun tonight.”

“Joong.” You giggle.

“No, seriously. You’re perfect.” He squeezes at your thigh again, fingers slowly trailing up to your inner thighs and sending goosebumps to ripple through your body.

“No one’s perfect.”

“You are. To me.” Your breath quietly hitches when you feel his fingers tease at the hem of your skirt. “My pretty girl.” His hand finally dips underneath, teasing at your panties.

“You do remember we’re going back to your parents’ house, right?”

“Mhm.” He teases at the edge of the material; so close, yet so far. Threatening to be right where you want him. “Just sleep in my room.”

“I’m not doing that with your parents around, Hongjoong.” He chuckles.

“They won’t care. Fuck the guest room. You can just be quiet for me, right pretty?” He bites onto his bottom lip.

“Hongjoong.” You whine, almost unable to finish the drive home with the way your boyfriend is being.

“Pull into the park’s lot.” He points ahead. “Need you right now.”

“In the lot?!”

“You won’t sleep in my room, so..” You let out a breath, still obeying to pull into the lot. You needed him just as bad, the ache becoming unbearable in between your legs. You park under the tree for more ‘privacy’ [if you can even it call it that], the rest of the lot completely empty and dark. As soon as you put the gear in park, Hongjoong is tugging onto your shirt, begging for you to be on his lap. “Ride me.” He adjusts the seat enough so that you have room to climb over, already unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans. When you land on his lap, he tugs your panties to the side and guides you onto his tip, letting out a loud moan when you finally sink down on his length. “Fuuuuck.”

“Joong, someone might see us.”

“No one will see us.” He digs his fingers deeper into your hips, encouraging you to work your hips faster.

“We don’t even have a condom!”

“I’ll pull out.” He laughs. “Fuck baby, I promise. We’re okay.” He kisses you sweetly on the lips. “Just need you right now. Ride me like the good girl you are, hm?” You let out a breathy moan hearing his raspy voice, working your hips back and forth at a steady pace.

“Feels so good.” You whine.

“Always know how to ride me so well.” He dips his thumb into your mouth, watching you wrap your pretty lips around it. “And you’re all mine. Right, princess?”

“I’m yours.” You mewl with a nod just as he slips his thumb out of your mouth, hand now coming to your neck with enough pressure. He pulls you in for a sloppy, wet kiss, shared moans released in between kisses. The friction against your clit is adding onto the pleasure you feel, your orgasm building quick. It only takes a few more rolls against him before you feel yourself unraveling, moans echoing within the car— you’d really be surprised if nobody questioned it. The car moving, sounds probably heard through the windows.

You can’t believe him right now.

“Hongjoong, I’m gonna—” You don’t even finish your sentence before your squeezing the life out of him, walls pulsing around his length. It’s enough to bring Hongjoong’s orgasm out of him, the panic lowkey mixing with the pleasure he’s feeling.

“Fuck— up, baby. Up.” He taps your hips and you move upwards, Joong releasing right into his hand as soon as he’s out. You’re still twitching from the sensitivity while also trying to regulate your breathing, exhaustion hitting you quick in the tight space. “Shit.” Hongjoong says, looking around to grab a napkin.

“You’re so messy.” You joke, making him laugh.

“Where else could I have done it, hm? Enlighten me.” You point to your mouth to tease him. He responds by clicking his teeth, wiping away in between your legs before tending to himself. “Don’t say shit like that, Y/N. We might never make it back to my parents’ place.” You laugh and hop off, albeit struggling to make it back to the driver’s seat.

“We’re leaving.” You fix yourself a bit more before buckling your seatbelt in and starting up the car. Joong continues to adjust himself back into his jeans before settling, letting out a hefty sigh when he’s comfortable.

“Offer still stands, love.”

“What offer?”

“To sleep in my room.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why?” He pouts and whines. “I’m telling you right now, my parents won’t care.”

“I do!”

“Baby, how are you gonna do me like that?”

“You’ll see me down the hall in the morning.” You smile at him before driving up the hill, the park literally being down the street from the house. When you arrive and park at the curb in front of the house, you and Joong quietly step inside and slip out of your shoes. He playfully grabs you by the waist, pulling you into more kisses in the dark to prevent you from heading up the stairs. You silently scold him and laugh against his lips, afraid his parents will wake up and see you two making out in the entryway. Just as you’re about to head down to the guest room, Joong tugs you by the wrist and pulls you into his room for another round of kisses.

“Just stay with me.” He whispers before locking his lips with yours again.

“I’m down the hall.” He gently sucks onto your bottom lip, slightly pushing himself up against you. “Kim Hongjoong. Stop it.” You tap him on the chest and he sighs in defeat.

“I hate sleeping without you.”

“It’s for one weekend.” You blush at Hongjoong’s neediness. Quite frankly, you don’t wanna be without him either, and it’s taking everything in you to leave him. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“Fine.” He meets your eyes while caressing your chin. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You smile at him before leaving him in his room to head down to the guest room. The guest room has a half bathroom that you use to get ready for the night. You quickly wash up and throw on a comfy pajama set before slipping into the bed and plugging your phone into the charger. Hongjoong sends you a few more texts and pouty faces before you send one final text saying you were setting the phone down for the night.

The next morning, you’re woken up by his parents making breakfast downstairs, followed by Hongjoong’s dad yelling for him and his brother to wake up and take Momo out. Hongjoong’s actually the first to be up, responding that he’ll take Momo out after he checks on his other baby first. You giggle to yourself under the covers until you feel another body jump onto the sheets and hug you tightly. He showers you with tickles and kisses before getting up to get ready for the rest of the weekend ahead.

Which, was amazing. Something you’ll always remember, something you’ll always keep close to your heart.

The hotel was small, but beautiful, and it sat in the middle of a cute town. You successfully snuck Momo into the suite with Hongjoong and his brother; the boys tasked with hauling his things and his crate, while you tucked him nicely into a blanket and carried him into the room once the coast was clear. The entire weekend was spent walking around town or playing around at the pool while Hongjoong’s parents always cooked the best meals. Hongjoong would occasionally sneak into your room just to pepper you with kisses and lay with you for a bit before you would whine about his parents finding him in there. It was a weekend full of laughter, bonding, candid photos, kisses and sweet praises from Hongjoong— telling you he felt so lucky to have you.

You, perfect for him.

You, everything to him.

And that continued even after the weekend. You and Hongjoong both found summer jobs just to keep yourselves busy, but he never failed to make you feel loved despite the slight change in schedules. He’d drop by as soon as you both were off, bringing you a bouquet of ‘just cause’ flowers before kissing you and holding you close. He’d bring you to work on days he didn’t have work and patiently wait for you to get off. He’d cook you a good meal, cuddle you and make love to you in the best [yet nastiest] ways. He’d surprise you with little things here and there— shoes, little trinkets, shirts— things he knew you’d like and that reminded him of you, only you. The hangouts with your friends and his friends continued, the bond between all of you only growing more tight.

You could say that summer was amazing. It was the happiest you’ve felt in such a long time. Or.. ever, if you’re being honest.

You were so happy that the moments when Hongjoong would go home for a night to hang out with his childhood friends or help his parents, you’d be sad. You knew you couldn’t always be with him, but those moments when you weren’t, easily made you feel incomplete. You were used to having him around, stuck at your hip while he kissed your temple and kept you close.

You felt empty, like your other half was missing.

“You’re leaving me.” You pout as you wait for your smoothie to be done, Hongjoong resting his chin on top of your head while he lazily holds you from behind. Tonight was one of those nights where you’d be sleeping without Hongjoong, a night where you wouldn’t get any cuddles, kisses.

A night without his warmth.

“Only for the night, love. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He presses his lips to your head. Once your smoothie is done, you take it to the car with your hand in his, head hung low because you don’t wanna be without Hongjoong for a night. You’ve gotten so used to being with him that one night feels way too long.

When he finally gets you back to the apartment, he kisses you sweetly; hands cupping your cheeks before he presses a kiss to your forehead. He tells you how much he’s gonna miss his pretty girl for the night, but he’ll be back before you know it. You smile, hugging him tightly before waving him off and watching his car drive off towards the direction of home.

Though you already missed him, you happily skip to your room and eat your favorite breakfast bagel with your smoothie; reminiscing about how summer has been so, so good to you.

How Hongjoong has been so, so good to you.

—SENIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE

“Hi!” You giggle as you hop into Hongjoong’s car, leaning in to kiss him. But, he moves away, furrowing his brows at you. He’s angry, and you’re not exactly sure why. “Um, okay. What’s wrong?”

“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting here for close to 15 minutes and you weren’t even answering my texts or calls.”

“Babe, I’m sorry. Class ran late and then I ran into Ara and Wooyoung on the way over.” He pulls out of the lot rather quickly, speeding off to his apartment from campus. “Slow down.”

“You couldn’t take that one second to text me or let me know?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it.” He doesn’t respond.

“Yeah, you didn’t.”

“It’s 15 minutes, Joong.”

“I’m just saying you could’ve told me, Y/N. I picked you up, it’s the least you could do.”

“The least I could do? If you didn’t wanna pick me up, you could’ve just said so—”

“That’s not the point.”

“Hongjoong, I didn’t do this on purpose. It just slipped my mind.” Your bottom lip starts to tremble. “Why are you so angry with me? I haven’t seen you all day.”

“Exactly.” Is all he says, leaning into his hand propped near the window as the other steers the wheel. You feel the tears building up quickly because not only was this unintentional, but Hongjoong is making you feel incredibly guilty for no reason.

“I said I was sorry. Why are you being like that?”

“I’m not being like anything, Y/N.”

“You’re being mean.”

“Am I?” He quickly turns to you with a glare before looking back out at the road. “I do hella shit for you, the least you could do is fucking let me know you’re gonna be late instead of letting me look dumb.” You flinch at his words, a mixture of both anger and sadness running through your body.

“I don’t mean to be such a chore for you.”

“Wow, there you go putting words into my mouth again. No one even said that.” You cross your arms and quietly slump in your seat, subtly wiping away at the tears streaming down your cheeks. You don’t even continue the conversation, leaving the air heavy and thick for the remaining 10 minute drive home to his apartment.

Once you get there, you simply kick off your shoes and sadly greet San and Mingi before walking into Hongjoong’s room. You change into comfier clothes, and slip into bed; studying for next week’s test and taking notes on your iPad while Joong talks to the boys outside in the living room. They start up a game of FIFA that has them screaming in the living room for an hour or so before they decide they’re gonna head out for a bit. Usually, Hongjoong skips in and begs you to come because he doesn’t wanna go anywhere without you. He loves having fun with you, seeing you smile and being able to kiss you in between.

But tonight, he rushes into the room without saying a word, and grabs a jacket before heading back out. The door to his room shuts close and you can’t help but feel your heart break. All of this over being 15 minutes late, and you feel terrible about yourself.

Why were you doing everything wrong?

“Woo.” You cry into the phone.

“What’s wrong?” You continue to cry quietly. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Joong was just hella mad at me. For the dumbest reason.”

“What happened?”

“Dude, he was so mad at me for taking too long. Said I should’ve just texted him and let him know instead of making him look dumb for 15 minutes.”

“I’m sorry, what? That’s what you’re arguing about?” He clicks his teeth. “Y/N, please stop crying. Where is he right now?”

“I don’t know, he left with San and Mingi.”

“Do you want me to pick you up?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“He didn’t say anything else to you?”

“No. He was angry. Sped the fuck off to the apartment and everything.”

“I get where he’s coming from but it’s really not that big of a deal. It’s not like you always do this to him.”

“Why do I feel so bad and guilty about everything? I always feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

“You’re not. He’s just not thinking.” You sniff and wipe away at your face, glancing at the time. You didn’t think Hongjoong would be back any time soon, so you continue to talk to Wooyoung on the phone while going through your notes. It’s about 2 hours in before Wooyoung says he’s gonna call it a night since he needs to wake up early and head home for the weekend. You let him go and get yourself ready for bed— fully expecting Hongjoong to probably sleep outside or create a gap between you two.

You wake up close to midnight when you hear San barge into the room with repeated apologies, hair a mess.

“Y/N, I am so sorry to wake you, but I need help.” You look up at him and sit up, rubbing at your eyes. Suddenly, the sound of someone falling into the floor and crashing into the dining room table echoes in the living room and San panics. “They’re both fucking drunk.” San says, stumbling back into the living room to find Mingi laid out on the dining room chairs, while Hongjoong is on the floor. You sigh and let San guide Mingi to his room, while you tend to your boyfriend.

“Joong, get up.”

“Baby. I’m sooo drunk.”

“Yeah, I can see that. You need to get up, though.” You try to pull him up by the arm. Luckily, he cooperates, though he stumbles a bit while you guide him to the bathroom. “Can we get you ready for bed?”

“Only if you come with me.” He hiccups. You shake your head and sigh.

“Yeah.” You sit him on the toilet. “Sit. I need to grab you some clothes.”

“I’m gonna fall over and die.” He laughs.

“You’re not.” San comes out of the hallway, letting out a huge sigh.

“Mingi’s in bed.”

“Can you watch him? I need to grab him some clothes.” San sits with him while you grab him a change of clothes. You hear them fumbling in the bathroom before Hongjoong lets out another laugh.

“Dude, keep still. Jesus Christ. You’re so lucky Y/N’s taking care of you. I would’ve left your ass there to fend for yourself.” He scolds him just as you walk back into the bathroom.

“Thanks, Sannie.” He gives you a tiny, toothless smile and nods.

“I’m sorry about this.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Just go and get some rest.”

“I’m gonna sleep on Mingi’s floor in case he yacks on himself.” He rolls his eyes, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

“My pretty baby.” He continues to tug you closer, making grabby hands and being all needy.

“Stop, Joong. Get your shirt off.”

“Why are you mad at me?” He whines as you switch out his shirt.

“Cause you were mad at me for something stupid.”

“You were taking so long. I just wanted to be with you, but Wooyoung was taking up your time. W-Wouldn’t you feel the same way?” He slurs.

“Ara, too.” You look at him. “You don’t need to get mad at me for things like that, Hongjoong.” You can’t believe you’re having this talk with him while he’s intoxicated. But for whatever reason, you feel like he’ll understand you better this way. He’ll be less mean, less temperamental.

It shouldn’t be that way, though.

“Sorry.” He mumbles as you help him switch into his pajama bottoms. You don’t respond as you quickly wipe down his face with a wet face towel, handing him his toothbrush. “Baby, m’sorry. What more do you want?” He’s only accepting defeat because what else can he do being this vulnerable right now?

“Okay.” You give him what he wants. “Brush your teeth so you can get to bed.” Hongjoong brushes his teeth, grabbing the tiny cup of mouthwash you hand him before guiding him to the bed. He plops down onto his stomach, arm lazily hanging off the edge while you tuck him in. He falls asleep rather quickly, already deep in sleep when you place a water bottle on the nightstand and a trash can near the bed.

You sleep easily throughout the night after that, with the occasional Hongjoong tossing and turning in bed, sitting up to drink water before he’s back to holding you and keeping you close. You feel his lips press against the back of your head and neck a few times, but you don’t budge. Because you’re still upset, yet you’ve pushed it to the back of your mind to take care of him.

Oh, Hongjoong.

You wish you weren’t so easy to fold when it came to him, your relationship. Hongjoong does so, so well bringing you up; but you’re learning over time and as your relationship goes on, he does so, so well bringing you down, too.

The following morning comes, and Mingi is yacking his brains out in the bathroom. You shrug Hongjoong’s arm off of you before you stretch and slip out of it, Joong way too out of it to even care. By the time you make it outside, Mingi is standing at the bathroom doorway, holding onto his stomach. You ask him if he’s okay and he winces, telling you he’s unsure if he’s got more left in him. You gently push him back to his room to rest before you’re cleaning the bathroom and washing up for the day. You cook a good meal for the boys, arranging a plate for your boyfriend. By the time that you’ve set the food out and cleaned up, Hongjoong is awake, but also struggling to move much.

“God, I’m so fucking hungover.” He mumbles and groans, barely able to look you in the eye.

“Eat.” You set the breakfast on his table.

“You made breakfast?”

“Yeah, cause both you and Mingi sound terrible right now.”

“Baby.” He sits up to drink water before pulling you in between his legs. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to.”

“It’s fine.” You try to push off, but he doesn’t let you go anywhere.

“Hey. I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“It’s fine, Joong.”

“You don’t seem like you’re fine.”

“It’s fine. I’ll text you from now on if I’m gonna be late. I just don’t need you getting mad at me for that.” He hums against your chest and continues to hold you without saying much. So, you stand and wrap your arms around him, letting out a sigh in hopes that all the pent-up frustration would leave, too.

“You’re so good to me.”

“I hope so.” You look down at him, swallowing the lump in your throat. You truly hope you are good to him. At least, you hope he genuinely believes so because it’s so easy to feel like you aren’t, like you aren’t doing enough, especially when Joong gets like that.

Though over time, you believe he meant it, for the most part. Hongjoong is better, but that doesn’t mean the arguments have settled completely. The moments they do spring up, he’s back to his ways of keeping silent and brushing you off, or leaving you behind. He comes back late, slipping into bed before pulling you close and whispering his apologies into your ear.

It’s a never-ending cycle, a circle, but you take it because Joong is what you’ve known, Joong is your other half. You take it because Joong is your home, and that maybe, this was just a silly little phase. Something you two will eventually grow out of.

A little bump in the road, a hill to overcome. As with any relationship.

A weekend full of fun activities eventually makes way, one that universities in your town and neighboring cities always look forward to. It’s the one weekend where all campuses get together for a full day of music, food and friendly competition before partying the night away at a local venue. This year the event was going to be held in the next city over, about an hour drive down. You, Hongjoong and your friends had packed up all your things and drove separately— you with Joong, Wooyoung with Yunho and Ara, San with Mingi.

As soon as you all arrive at the hotel, you unpack and grab dinner before heading to bed for the festivities the next day that started bright and early. You knew you were gonna have tons of fun this weekend, but you didn’t expect it to be the same weekend that you’d be tested; that your relationship would be riding its downhill course yet again.

Your group, along with other familiar faces, stayed during the majority of the day’s events. You and Wooyoung ran into a lot of people you knew growing up, catching up while standing in line for snacks and food, or in between the games happening out on the field. So did Joong.

And he was his usual self, happily introducing you to people you hadn’t met before and vice versa. He kept you to his hip whenever he could, peppering you with kisses, dancing around and having fun like the Hongjoong you first fell in love with. A lot of it felt like old times, like there wasn’t a care in the world. It had just been you and him, through rose-tinted glasses.

When it’s time for the afterparty, you and your friends do a shit ton of pre-gaming before heading out to the venue across the street. The coordinators and the huge security team keep a single file line organized right outside of the doors until opening, allowing the venue to be flooded with people right at 8pm on the dot. You hang onto Joong, afraid you’ll lose him in the sea of people, with your friends around you until you find a good spot on the dance floor. No one wastes any time once you settle on a spot— you working your hips on Hongjoong while he holds you close, while San and Ara are also indulging in each other and Wooyoung is pulling random girls to dance. At some point, Yunho and Mingi run over to grab some drinks for everyone to sip on, the DJ’s setlist continuing to hit all the right spots.

“Baby.” Hongjoong says, arm around your waist while he leans in by your ear. “I’m gonna go find Jisung. He said he just got here.”

“Okay. Tell him I said hi.” He pulls away to look at you and smiles, brushing your hair back.

“I will. Be back? Be good?” He chuckles while you nod, planting a sweet kiss to your lips.

For awhile, Hongjoong is gone long enough that you’re not sure if he ever found Jisung. You start exploring around the dance floor, greeting people you know again before heading off to the spacious hallway that leads to the bathrooms and water fountains. Lots of people are standing around and talking, which makes it a bit harder for you to find him. You eventually do though, and you almost wished you hadn’t at that exact moment, at that exact time.

The exact moment when Tara pulls him in for a hug, keeping her arms around his waist while he looks down at her with a fond smile. He laughs loudly while she continues to talk to him, the grip around his waist clearly not loosening any time soon. He throws an arm around her shoulder and pulls her in for another hug; keeping her there for a bit before she finally pulls back and parts from him.

You head towards his direction, his eyes instantly landing on you when you get closer. He gives you the same fond smile, before pulling you in and hugging you close. You swear you could still smell her perfume on his clothes and it gives you the ick.

“I didn’t know Tara was here, too.” You say, even though you should’ve expected it with all the schools invited. You should’ve known she was bound to be here, especially with Jisung being around.

“Yeah, and?”

“Nothing, nevermind.”

“No, I know you. What are you catching an attitude about? Because I said hi?” He furrows his brows at you and pulls away.

“It’s not even that—” You’re not even sure how to explain yourself, because how do you tell him she makes you uncomfortable without getting accused of being jealous? You know Hongjoong would instantly get upset, thinking you don’t trust him enough to be around his ex. That’s not the case at all. It’s just something about her that makes you feel.. off, and you can’t exactly put your finger on it. It’s probably the way they’re so up and down sometimes, you can’t tell if Hongjoong wants to keep her in his life or not. It makes you wonder how “awful” their breakup truly was.

But yeah, right now, you are kinda mad about how she hugged him and kept him close. He let that happen, too.

“Just because she’s here, you wanna ruin a good night? Be for real, Y/N. All you fucking do is trip over stupid shit.” He says, alcohol surely not helping in this case.

“I’m trippin’ over stupid shit?”

“Yeah, you are! It’s so fucking unnecessary when you act like that. I was just catching up with Jisung and Tara happened to come by. I don’t know why you assume so many things right away. Nobody is putting those thoughts in your head, you do that to yourself.” Hongjoong harshly lets go of you before walking off and leaving you in the hallway. Yunho is just leaving the bathroom, catching you standing there with a sadness in your eyes that surely doesn’t fit the environment you guys are in right now.

“Yo, you okay?” He throws an arm around you and brings you close, having to talk right in your ear because of the music blasting. You look up at him and shake your head, tears pricking your eyes while you sadly stand there with your arms tucked closely to your chest. “Woah, hey. What’s going on?”

“Tara.” Yunho lets out a small sigh as he frowns. He understands the anxiety that builds when she’s around. He knows their full story, and quite frankly, he’s iffy about the whole Tara thing, too. You clearly don’t know, but Yunho can tell your gut is telling you otherwise— that your instincts are making you defensive, making you overthink. He knows how serious their relationship was, but he also knew how much of a rollercoaster it was. How bad the breakup was, how weird they’ve been even post-break up. Hongjoong is a good guy, and he likes to think that he’d be smart enough [and grown enough] to move on from all that mess. “He’s fucking mad at me because I made a big deal out of it. I’m sorry I don’t want her around him.”

“I’m sorry, that’s totally valid. He’s drunk and he’s being a dick. He’ll realize how stupid he’s being. Let him.” Yunho smiles and gives you a playful pinch on the cheek. “No crying allowed. Let’s go back to the dance floor, okay?”

“Bruh! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Wooyoung grabs your wrist when he finally spots you and Yunho. “Don’t you hear the song they’re playing?! It’s our song!” You laugh, letting Yunho and Wooyoung guide you back to the dance floor. Once Yunho and Wooyoung have successfully brought you back to the dance floor, you’re able to brush off your feelings and forget the stupid drama for a bit. Wooyoung dances closely with you [like he always has], playfully singing around and laughing while simultaneously watching the crowd go crazy around you. Being around Wooyoung feels nice because you’re reminded of the good ol’ times. You’re reminded of the times you used to be so, so carefree and so full of life. You’re reminded of the times you didn’t have to worry about a single thing or feel so fucking anxious and frustrated. You’re reminded of the times when you and Wooyoung used to have tons of fun without a single weight on your shoulders.

Well, scratch that. You still do. It’s just a little different now.

During the remaining time you’re at the party, Hongjoong doesn’t return to you even once. And you know he’s hanging out with Jisung. Probably other childhood friends. Definitely Tara. And your suspicions are confirmed when you excuse yourself from dancing with your bestfriend and a few others to grab water, finding Hongjoong laughing and in good spirits with Jisung, Tara and another friend. There’s a look in his eyes when he looks down at her, and it makes your stomach twist.

Of course.

You’re not really sure why that’s the last straw, it’s not like he was doing anything out in the open with her. He would never do anything, you think. Even if you haven’t seen him throughout the night, he would never. But, it’s definitely the fact that he chose to spend his time with them [her] knowing how you felt.

And that shit is fucked up. You’re hurt.

You make contact with him and roll your eyes, shaking your head right before you take a big swig of water and head out the doors. Before you know it, you’re outside, pushing through the random groups lingering to get fresh air. Luckily, the hotel is a short walk across the street. But, you’re not even sure if you should call Wooyoung and take your things into his shared room with Ara and Yunho because you truly don’t want to be around Hongjoong if he was gonna be like that.

“Fuck.” Hongjoong mumbles to himself. Jisung follows his eyes, watching as you storm out of the venue alone.

“Uh, is she good?” Tara can’t help but look over either, heart sinking when she realizes Hongjoong is about to run after you. Because yeah, she has history with him, and she knows deep down that part of Hongjoong still has a grip on it. Just like she does.

“I’ll catch up with you later, alright?” Is all Hongjoong says before bidding them farewell to chase after you.

“Of course.”

“Tara.” Jisung gently scolds her through his tone. “I know that shit has always been complicated, but I need you to let him be.”

“Okay, Jisung. I’m not even saying anything. It’s just annoying how we can’t even be friends.”

“It’s never just that with you two and you know it.” She looks at Jisung and remains quiet, not having a rebuttal.

She knows, she knows.

Meanwhile, Hongjoong pauses in his steps and searches for your familiar figure. More people have piled outside, making it a bit harder for him to navigate through the crowds. Once he leaves the entrance and finds himself on the street, he sees you nearing the crosswalk.

“Baby, baby.” You hear Hongjoong behind you, footsteps getting louder as he picks up his pace to catch up with you. “Baby, wait. I’m sorry.” He repeats when he grabs your wrist, but you’re quick to snatch it out of his grip.

“Hongjoong, go back to the party. Looks like you were having a fucking blast anyway.”

“No, I don’t want to.” He attempts to grab you again but you’ve moved out of his reach.

“And I don’t want you here.” You sharply look at him. “Just go back with your friends. I’m sure Tara’s looking for you, too.”

“I don’t give a fuck! I wanna be with you.”

“If you actually wanted to spend time with me, then you would’ve done that a long time ago.” You feel the tears threatening to spill from your bottom lid as you continue to walk across the street to the hotel. You keep your distance from Hongjoong, genuinely wanting to be alone and away from him for a moment— but he doesn’t understand and he won’t. Because he’s selfish, and the moment he realizes you’re slipping from his grip, he panics.

Saying and throwing everything your way just to get you calm, to not have you be mad.

“I didn’t mean to get upset at you, it’s just frustrating—”

“I really don’t wanna do this right now, okay? I left alone for a reason.”

“Can you just listen to me for a second?”

“I don’t want to!” You push away from him once again, picking up your pace. “Hongjoong, just go back to your friends. For the love of god, I don’t wanna be around you right now. You fucking knew how I felt about the entire thing yet you still spent time with her and your friends. And you got mad at me for voicing those feelings! God forbid I feel that way about her.” You snap. “I don’t wanna do this anymore. I’m so fucking tired of fighting with you, all we do is—” He comes around and tries to stop you in your tracks, hands on your arms as he tries to pull you close.

“No, baby. You don’t mean that. I’m trying here! What do you want me to do?!” His voice slightly raises.

“You’re trying?! Funny cause you had hella shit to say to me at the party. Don’t try and flip the switch now.”

“I didn’t mean it, fuck!” He groans, attempting to stop you from walking any further again. His tone is loud enough to catch the attention of a couple walking past, eyes fixed on the scene until Hongjoong lowers his voice. “I just got frustrated and I’m sorry, okay? Please don’t leave. Let me make this up to you.”

“You don’t even know what the hell you’re sorry for!” You continue to raise your voice before storming up into the lobby, straight to the elevators.

“Yes I do!” He rushes into the elevator with you, and you tuck yourself into the corner. But of course, in a very typical Hongjoong manner, he cages you in, hands resting on the rails while his face barely ghosts yours. “I fucked up, and I didn’t mean to discredit your feelings. I want you to know that I don’t care about Tara. That shit is all in the past. It gets frustrating because I would never do anything to lose you, Y/N. I just need you to trust me. Why don’t you trust me?”

“Joong, I don’t get why you can’t just cut her off. She’s your ex for a reason. I don’t understand it. I just don’t feel comfortable with it, and I’m sorry—”

“I know, baby. If you want me to cut her off, I will. I wanna make up for this and prove it to you.” You let out a breath. “No one else matters to me.” Silence. You aren’t really sure what to say. What can you say? Was it wrong for you to ask him to cut her off?

If not, why do you feel guilty about it? Why do you feel so fucking wrong for doing that? For making it a ‘big deal,’ for voicing your uncomfortability?

“You didn’t have to come after me and miss the party.” You don’t really know what else to say. You’re tired and you’re over it, so you do what you do best in these scenarios: try to physically push him away from you and keep him at bay.

“Stop pushing me away. Baby, please.” He shakes his head and almost whines, cupping your face. “I don’t care about the party. I don’t care about any of them. Why can’t you trust me?” And it’s that stupid fucking look Hongjoong gives you that makes you melt, makes you weak in the knees. He looks at you in a way that reassures you, in a way that tells you how special you are; a way that says you’re mine and only mine.

And it gets you every single time.

You let out a shaky breath when his thumb caresses the surface, lips a few inches away from yours.

“Don’t push me away. I’m sorry, I’ll make this better. You can trust me.” He repeats. You don’t respond besides a simple nod, giving him leverage to press a chaste kiss to your lips as the elevator doors open.

Hongjoong is home to you, which is why you trust him to make it better, to keep you safe.

That night, Hongjoong takes you into the room and shows you his way of making up for it, of taking care of you, of showing you all that matters is you. You slip into the shower, eventually letting Joong join and take you inside. He carefully calculates every move, every kiss, every touch; making sure to whisper and mark your skin with his repeated apologies. And it doesn’t stop there, no. You get yourself ready for bed, throwing on one of Joong’s shirts before slipping under the covers. He shuts off the lights when he’s finished, getting in next to you. Innocent cuddles and kisses eventually turn into Joong taking you from behind; pounding into you while he pulls your hair and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

No one else matters to me.

You’re perfect.

Made for me.

My good girl.

And you take it all, letting the love consume you all over again. Because for a while after this, things felt beautiful again. You felt like you were back in your honeymoon-cloud nine phase with Hongjoong— sharing laughs and jokes, holding each other close while kissing each other every chance you get. He’d make love to you like the last day on Earth was tomorrow, souls intertwining and never wanting to be apart from you.

Things were good, until they weren’t.

There comes a day when you realize he hasn’t actually cut Tara off, and your anxiety spikes again. There comes a day when all those shitty feelings return, and it makes you question if there was any meaning behind everything Hongjoong said, did.

You sat on Hongjoong’s bed, reading through a chapter of a book for class. He’s out in the hallway grabbing his clothes from the dryer when his phone dings a few times, your eyes shooting to the screen sitting on the nightstand. You used to think it was kinda nice that Hongjoong always set his text previews to show up no matter what. Maybe it was a weird way of showing you that he didn’t have anything to hide, maybe it was a way of showing you that you didn’t need to question anything.

Now, you’re not so sure how to feel about it.

tara: hey. is it okay if i swing by and hang out with you guys?

tara: my aunt passed, and i just want to be away from home.

You do feel a bit bad for her. Losing a loved one is never easy, and she is good friends with San and Mingi, too. But, where is Jisung? Where are her other friends? Surely she has other friends she can rely on, right? You can’t help but fix on the funny feeling and the anxiety that bubbles in your gut seeing her name— anything to do with her. You’re not sure what it is, but Tara unsettles you, and you know it’s for a reason. Your instincts are telling you so.

“Who is it?” You flash his phone his way, a small frown on your lips.

“So much for cutting her off, Hongjoong.”

“I’m not even planning to respond to her.”

“Not my point.”

“I know you aren’t getting mad at me over some unanswered texts. I haven’t even talked to Tara since that night.” He glares at you. But if he hadn’t talked to her since that night, what makes her think it’s okay to ask for something like this?

“Why would you tell me you’d cut her off if you weren’t actually planning on doing so? And why do you sound so mad about it?” You’re tired of doing this, going in circles, having to explain your feelings over and over again.

“Oh my god.” He huffs. “We’re really at this again?”

“Because you don’t get it. It just feels weird.”

“Mm, when I haven’t done anything.” He drops the basket onto the floor. “Since you wanna talk about ‘weird’ and bring this shit up again, what’s been going on with you and Wooyoung then?”

“Are you actually kidding me right now?” You scoff. “You’re not serious.”

“You know, I saw you that night of the party. The two of you dancing hella close. I’ve seen the way he is with you lately, too.”

“Wow.” You laugh pathetically because what is actually going on? Wooyoung had never been an issue, at least, Hongjoong has never vocalized it. Nor has Joong ever given you signs that he was becoming a problem. “You know we’re just close like that. It’s actually unbelievable that you’re comparing him to Tara right now.”

“Oh, bullshit! You expect me to believe that? That’s the shit that feels weird.” Hongjoong yells.

“Yes!” You match his tone. “Because we’ve been together for how long?! You know this. Why are you all of a sudden making this an issue? Wooyoung was never a problem—“

“To you, maybe.”

“And that’s my fault, how?! I can’t read your mind, Joong. You never told me you had issues about it.” You groan. “He’s just one of my best friends. I don’t know how else I’m supposed to prove that to you. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Then, what the hell was he doing being all up on you? Leaning into your ear like that. Holding you close. Too fucking close.”

“We’ve always been that way! This isn’t anything new, and you know there isn’t a meaning behind it!” You yell, but you’re quick to crawl back into your shell when Hongjoong tosses a dish into the sink harshly before walking away from the kitchen.

“Right.” He starts walking towards his bedroom and you follow behind. “It’s crazy how you make a big deal out of Tara when I keep her at a distance. I don’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, I make sure there’s clear boundaries.”

“That’s not the same, and you know it. Her being around is uncomfortable enough.”

“How is it different?”

“You’re kidding, right?” You cross your arms. “She wants to get back with you so fucking badly, Joong! How can you not see that? She doesn’t care about me, and you apparently don’t either!”

“Oh, I don’t? I cut her off like you asked me to even though there really wasn’t anything going on between us. Shit was fucking crazy to me, but I did it anyway.”

“What exactly does ‘cutting her off’ mean to you? Because she continues to call you and text you, asking you to be there for her when she has so many other people she can turn to. Why does it always have to be you saving the day? You just let it happen, too! You clearly would see her and let her visit when she needs you. You two aren’t together anymore!”

“So, how is this different from Wooyoung? Because every time something happens, you run to him. You ask for him all the time, you call and text him when you need someone. You choose him all the time.”

“No, I don’t! He’s not my ex-boyfriend, this is just how we are. I’ve known him for so long, he would never disrespect you. Why on earth would you ever think of us in that way? This is different because you and your ex have history. She obviously still loves you, and wants to continue feeling close to you. As soon as you’re vulnerable, she wants to swoop in and show you that she’s always been there. You don’t get it!”

“Fine, I don’t!” But Hongjoong does, he’s just matching your energy and the way you fire back makes him want to fire back even more. He yells and he slams his hand against the wall, making you flinch. He’s heated just as much as you are— it’s all in the heat of the moment. “If I ever asked you to cut Wooyoung off, would you?”

“No. I don’t have a reason to. That’s unfair and you know it.” He scoffs as he throws on his jacket and grabs his keys.

“Okay, whatever. Fuck this then.” He says, just as San and Mingi walk into the apartment— pausing mid-conversation at the chaos going on.

“That’s it?” You pause. “Hongjoong.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say to you, Y/N. I gave you what you wanted.”

“And I am too, I’ve been trying to tell you that you shouldn’t worry about Wooyoung.”

“And yet it still feels like you’d choose him over me if it ever came down to it!” His hand hits the wall and it causes you to step back.

“Woah, hold on. Hongjoong—'' Mingi cuts in when he hears Hongjoong yelling at you, also slightly appalled at the topic behind the argument.

“Why do I even have to choose?!” You begin to cry more, aggressively wiping at your tears. He gives you one last look before he’s heading towards his shoes. “Hongjoong.” You call for him. “Where are you going?” He slides into his shoes, still not sparing you a look. “Hongjoong!”

“For a drive.” Is all he says before he’s heading out and slamming the door in your face. Mingi sighs as he sets his things down and tries to race after Hongjoong, while San sits you down and throws an arm around you to console you.

“What happened?”

“He’s getting mad at me cause Tara texted him.” San sighs. “Started talking about Wooyoung.”

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry Y/N, let him cool down.” You don’t say anything because you’re sick of fighting and you’re sick of his friends, your friends, genuinely apologizing on his behalf. It should have never gotten this deep, and your friends shouldn’t have to be involved. Yet, here they are. “He’s being a hothead. I know how you feel, and you shouldn’t have to explain the situation with Wooyoung after all this time.”

“Sannie, I’m so tired.” You cry into your hands. You truly are tired. You feel exhausted from this rollercoaster you’ve been riding for months. You’re not sure if Hongjoong feels too comfortable, or if he’s just losing sight of who you are to him, what this relationship means to him. And that is an awful feeling. “I’m so done fighting with him.”

“I know.” He rubs your arm and gives you a gentle squeeze. “Hongjoong just needs to realize how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side. For real. You do everything for him and you’re always there for him. I know he’s appreciative but he just needs to do better.” He lets out a breath. “We’ll try to talk some sense into him. Why don’t you lie down and get some rest?” You shake your head.

“I’m gonna go home.”

“Want me to drive you?”

“I’m gonna call Woo.” He nods, letting you go to give you some space. “Thank you, Sannie.”

“Of course.” He gives you a small, half-hearted smile. He feels terrible. He truly wishes Hongjoong would stop being so mean sometimes. It’s true; he does have a temper but it’s unfair for him to unload that on you for every little thing, every little inconvenience. You had been nothing but good and patient. Understanding.

“Yo?” Wooyoung picks up as you pack up your things.

“Woo, are you free right now? Can you come get me from Hongjoong’s?”

“Yeah, sure. You okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll be there in 10.” And with that, you hang up the call and continue to pack your things. Hongjoong and Mingi haven’t returned, and you’re relieved you don’t have to go explaining yourself if he were to walk in at this moment. Wooyoung arrives sharply in 10 minutes, texting you to come outside. You bid San farewell and hug him tightly, telling him to let Hongjoong know you’ve gone home if he ever asks. He simply nods before watching you leave, releasing a deep sigh as he heads to his room.

The car ride is quiet simply because Wooyoung can tell you’re having a bad night. The thing with Wooyoung [which is why he’s your bestfriend] is that he knows when he just needs to hold space for you and let you be in your peace. He doesn’t ask any questions, he doesn’t hound you for attention. He just lets you be the entire ride home. It’s not until you start breaking down again that he finally feels ready to ask, especially because he hates seeing you this way.

“Y/N, what is it?” Wooyoung lets out a breath when he sees you breaking down in the passenger’s seat. “Come on, let’s get inside first. Okay?” He says, hand coming to rub your back. You don’t respond so Wooyoung takes it upon himself to step out first before coming to your aid on the passenger’s side. He crouches to your level and unbuckles the seatbelt, wiping your tears away before getting you to walk to the apartment. He heads to the kitchen to grab you some water while you change and get into bed.

Wooyoung hears you quietly sniffling and crying to yourself, and he knows he can’t just leave you here like this. So, he places the water down, slips into your bed and holds you, telling you that things will be okay. To anyone, this probably would’ve looked incredibly wrong, and Hongjoong probably would’ve beaten his ass if he knew. But he doesn’t care; because Wooyoung will always do anything for you, especially after all the times you’ve dropped everything to be there for him without asking for shit in return. He cherishes you as his bestfriend and he will always put you first—

That goes to say, Wooyoung would never disrespect Hongjoong. He knows better than that, and if Hongjoong had a problem with him, he’d gladly talk it out and reassure him. Well, he’d at least hope Hongjoong was grown enough to do that.

But if not, then he thinks that's his own damn problem and his own damn fault for assuming and putting shit into his own head. Wooyoung has known you for so long that things like this— platonically laying in bed, consoling and being there for each other— comes so naturally. It doesn’t mean he’s trying to make a move on you [god, no], everyone knows that.

Except Hongjoong, I guess. It’s funny how he tries to flip the script on you when he knows exactly what he’s doing.

It’s kinda stupid, Wooyoung thinks. He should really know better after dating you for over a year at this point. He should really know better, period.

Right now though, you need him and that’s what he’s here for. He continues to quietly shush you and ease you to sleep, phone constantly vibrating and going off on the table. It’s not until he hears your soft snores that he carefully moves to grab your phone and attempt to turn it off, eyes glancing over Hongjoong’s texts and missed call notifications.

hongjoong: where are you?

hongjoong: y/n

hongjoong: assuming you’re with wooyoung

hongjoong: wow really, y/n? after tonight, too? of course you’d run straight to wooyoung

hongjoong: fuck this, whatever

Wooyoung scoffs to himself a bit, the audacity of Hongjoong for being so fucking upset over nothing. Don’t get him wrong. Wooyoung loves seeing you happy. It’s all he wants. And he loved Hongjoong for you. He really did. He thought you two were perfect and actually made for each other.

But, over time, he’s starting to question his thoughts, if he still stands in the same place he did a year ago. Because all this crying, this back and forth, nights of having to come save you; he sees you slowly changing. The light in your eyes dimming. Life slowly being sucked out of you. You aren’t the same bright, fun, loud Y/N you used to be and Wooyoung hates it when he really thinks about it. As the cherry on top [which Wooyoung also hates to admit], everything is becoming way too unhealthy. It’s the way that Hongjoong’s temper gets the best of him, the way all of your friends get involved one way or another. The way this will probably blow over tomorrow, and you and Hongjoong will go about your day like nothing happened.

What’s gonna be left of this?

What’s gonna be left of you?

Wooyoung feels his own phone vibrate, and it’s a text from Yunho. Granted, he kinda saw this coming. But again, he hates that this is what your relationship has become.

yunho: is y/n with you? hongjoong’s wondering where she’s at

wooyoung: where the fuck else would she be?

wooyoung: she’s at home, sleeping

wooyoung: had to pick her up cause she called crying after their argument

yunho: they fought again? over what?

wooyoung: idk but reading his texts, it sounds like part of it was about me

yunho: wtf why? i dont get it?

wooyoung: you and me both

yunho: alright well ill let him know shes safe and asleep. text me if u need me

wooyoung: thanks

wooyoung: also, tell him he can ask me directly next time. i’m not hiding anything, nor is y/n. bold of him to assume shit

He lets out a hefty sigh before setting his phone aside and slipping deeper into your covers, turning onto his side to give you some space.

When the following morning comes, Wooyoung wakes up to your hand on his arm as you reach over to grab your phone. He groans a bit, tugging on the sheets while you sit up and read through Hongjoong’s texts from last night.

“Fucking idiot.” He hears you mutter. As much as he wants to sleep in a little more, he can’t help but worry about you. So, he turns over and sees your fingers pinching at your bottom lip while you continue to read the texts— obvious the tears are building up the more that you do.

“Y/N, what the hell did you guys fight about last night?”

“It was so stupid.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that before.” You look at him and drop your phone, head resting back against the headboard.

“It started because Tara texted him asking if she could swing by for some company since her aunt passed. I got mad at him for it because I swear to god, she’s trying so hard to get back with him and he just lets it happen. I know he’d continue to help her and be there for her even though she has other friends she can rely on. Why does it have to be Hongjoong every fucking time?” You groan, tears already streaming down your cheeks. “And then he started attacking me about you, a-and—” You cry. “It’s unfair. It’s not the same, I don’t know why he’s suddenly making an issue about us or whatever, but it’s not the same and I thought he knew that. He was making me choose, saying I’d probably choose you at the end of the day and that I—”

“What a piece of shit.” Wooyoung says before sitting up and pulling you into a hug. “Nah, I get it. You don’t have to explain the rest.”

“It’s so stupid. Why would he say that when he knows it’s not the same? Tara’s his ex-girlfriend, why doesn’t he see it the way I do?”

“Because he knows he’s wrong and he doesn’t wanna admit it, Y/N. He’s looking for other things to pick at and blame. Deflecting.”

“I’m so done with him getting mad at me like this. I asked him to cut her off for a reason.” You pull away from him and wipe the remaining tears from your face. “I asked him to cut her off because she clearly didn’t give a fuck about me or our relationship. That girl knows no boundaries. She makes me feel anxious and I fucking hate it.”

“And you were right to do so.” You sigh.

“I feel like I’m never winning with him anymore.” You say quietly, defeatedly. “It just never feels like enough.”

“Don’t say shit like that. You’re doing more than enough, he’s just being dumb.” He sighs. “Are you going to talk to him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe later. I just need a moment to myself, I guess.”

“Take your time with it. Talk to him when you’re ready. Don’t let him determine that for you.”

“I know. Thanks for last night.” He gives you a small smile.

“I got you, always. And for the record, I know you’d choose me in the end.”

“Shut up.” You chuckle as you wipe at the stragglers running down your cheeks before pushing him out of your bed.

“Ow.” He pouts and whines. “Why would you hurt me?”

“I need to shower.”

“You should.” You smack him upside the head when you finally stand from your bed and grab a set of new clothes.

“Are you at least feeling better?”

“Kinda? Sleep did me well for sure.”

“It’s cause of me.”

“Wooyoung, I will—” He bites you on the shoulder with a loud laugh, causing you to yell and curse at him this early in the morning. Luckily, your roommate wasn’t home and was off at her internship. But goodness, does your bestfriend drives you nuts. Can’t live with him, can’t live without him.

Once Wooyoung leaves, you take a bit more time just to be in your own peace. You deep clean your room and the rest of the apartment, while playing some soft music in the background. Hongjoong’s call is what interrupts the music coming through your bluetooth speakers, sighing as you disconnect it and pick up the call. He asks if he can come over and talk, and you agree to let him swing by. You aren’t feeling 100% but you are feeling better enough to try and talk to him.

It doesn’t take more than 15 minutes before Hongjoong is walking through your door, kicking off his shoes and setting his wallet and keys off to the side of the dining table. He finds you sorting through some extra prints you’ve kept hidden in your desk drawer, your back turned to him even as he walks in and greets you.

“Hey.” Is all he says, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Hi.” You turn to him, setting the prints aside.

“Hanging up more?”

“I don’t know yet. I bought these awhile ago and they’ve been sitting in my drawer. I need to figure out how I wanna put them up.” He leans back on his hands and nods. Even throughout all the stupid shit you and Hongjoong have been fighting about, you still find him to be the most handsome, the most charming; it truly makes your heart flutter every time you see him. He’s in a plain white tee and sweats, hair freshly washed and still a bit damp. The tattoo on his arm is poking out from underneath his sleeve and it drives you insane how attractive your boyfriend is.

“Mm.” He hums. “Did you sleep well?”

“Slept well enough.” You look at him. “What about you?”

“I slept alright. Was worried about where you were at.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else but my place, Joong. You know that.”

“With Wooyoung?” You look at him and let out a sigh, crossing your arms as you feel the anger within you grow again.

“Look, if you came here to argue some more, I don’t—”

“I’m not here to argue. I asked a simple question, Y/N.”

“Yes, he was here. But I don’t see why that would be an issue compared to Tara asking to come over.” He licks his lips, but he doesn’t say anything. Just nods.

“She just needs her friends.”

“So do I, but you don’t see me leaning on my ex for that kind of company.”

“We were good friends before we even dated.”

“But you dated, and that’s the shit she’s holding onto. As with anybody.” You roll your eyes. “I guess you did come here to argue.” He shakes his head.

“No. Forget it, I’m sorry.” Is all he says.

“Sorry for what?” You hate that you always have to ask him this because lately, it’s been feeling like he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for. Like he’s just apologizing to apologize and move past it. “You do understand where I’m coming from, right? Tara’s your ex-girlfriend and I asked you to cut her off for a reason. Wooyoung and I have been bestfriends for years, and we’ve never been anything more than that. We’re just used to being there for each other and having each other’s backs. It’s natural for us. It doesn’t always have to have a hidden meaning, Hongjoong. Don’t make me choose because it’s not the same thing. Why would you do that? Why would you get upset at me for assuming when you’re doing the same thing about my bestfriend?”

“I hear you. I truthfully don’t wanna fight about this anymore.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I cut her off, alright? Told her she couldn’t do that and expect me to be there for her anymore.” He lets out a heavy sigh as if it was a chore to do, as if he didn’t want to but had no choice.

“Hm.” You hum. It’s not that you don’t trust him, you just don’t trust her. But part of you has also begun to wonder if you could truly be comfortable with his responses— if you could sit back and relax, take it for what it is. It’s complicated. Too complicated for something that started off so simple and beautiful. So beautifully simple.

“Baby.” He calls you as he stands. “Can you come here, please? Look at me.”

“Hongjoong, I just don’t know what to say.” He holds you by the waist, hand on the small of your back while he kisses your forehead, temple.

“Trust me.” He slightly frowns. “I need you to trust me because I would never do anything to lose you, remember? Baby, nothing else matters.”

“Then trust me. Wooyoung would never disrespect you like that and I thought you knew that.” He nods.

“Yeah, I know. I was just upset.” He kisses you on the lips. “I’ll do better.”

And since that moment, Hongjoong was better. Really better. The feelings you felt during the beginning of your relationship with Hongjoong felt like they’ve returned. Hongjoong was good, so, so good to you— it was easy to trust him again and feel safe. He worked on building a safer space for you after the back and forth about Tara, making you feel like he truly understood you and wanted this relationship to flourish like it used to. He cared about you, and he loved you.

Little did you know that this would all come crumbling down in the future. All of it.

The hope that this would eventually pass, that it was just a bump in the road, dwindled when Hongjoong had reverted to his old ways—

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

But it breaks you, constantly breaks you, because at this point, you’re convinced it’ll never change.

Not anymore.

“Wooyoung’s graduation party is that weekend. He had to push it out so his family could travel over.” You say, washing your bowl in the sink before plopping back down on the couch with him.

“So you’re not gonna come with me to Jisung’s graduation?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Can’t you at least stop by then go to Wooyoung’s?”

“No, because I told his parents I’d help get everything together, Joong.” You furrow your brows because you already know he’s angry, even though this has absolutely nothing to do with him.

“Alright.” Is all he says, continue to scroll through his phone.

“You’re not mad, are you?”

“I mean, I just wanted you to come along for a bit. I don’t understand why can’t do that, but I guess it’s cause of Wooyoung.” He looks at you again. “I should’ve expected that.”

“Hongjoong.” You call his name with a certain tone, one that says you don’t wanna revisit this so-called issue again.

“What, am I wrong?” He chuckles, but there’s an obvious drip of anger, of venom, in it. “Do you, Y/N.”

“Why are you being like that? I thought you would’ve understood by now.”

“Yeah, I have. It was always going to be Wooyoung anyway, so what the fuck is the point?”

“Why are we back here again? Why do I have to keep explaining myself to you? It’s not that I don’t wanna go to Jisung’s, I just promised Wooyoung and his parents I’d be there.”

“I’m sure an hour or so wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh my god.” You run your hands through your hair and get up from the couch, heading into his room. “I know that’s not what you’re really trying to get at.”

“It’s true though, right? You’re just choosing Wooyoung like you always do. You’re right, maybe I should just stop because in the end it doesn’t matter. I always put you first, I do everything for you and I always take you into consideration. Everything is about you, and you never do the same—”

“I never do the same?!” You match his tone. The disbelief running through you is unbearable. You’re just not sure how Hongjoong has the audacity to say something like that when you’re always thinking about him and putting your own feelings aside to keep him happy.

But you would never hang that over his head like he does with you.

“You know that’s not true! I appreciate everything you do for me, but you don’t get to hang it over my head like that because I would never do that to you. I would never make you feel guilty about the things I do for you, or make you feel like you’re an obligation.”

“You make me feel that way all the time!” He yells. “You don’t even realize how much you do.”

“Oh, because of Tara? So sorry that was such a fucking tragedy for you!” He groans loudly before hitting the wall.

“For real, fuck this. Count me out of your graduation, too. I’m not doing this shit.”

“Hongjoong, what the fuck is your problem? My own graduation?”

“I don’t wanna do this anymore, Y/N! What the fuck is the point!” He repeats. The words cut through you like a sharp knife because damn, you weren’t expecting that out of this.

“Okay, you know what, Joong. I’m not gonna keep arguing about this with you. Do whatever the hell you want, call me selfish, whatever. I made a promise to my bestfriend and his family and I’m not going back on my word.” You pack up your things and head out the door, not taking one look at him.

“Yeah, whatever. Done with this bullshit.” He slams his room door, causing the walls to shake.

You cried when you got home that evening, but you weren’t crying because of the shit he said, the things he pulled, no. You were crying because you were exhausted and you felt like you had nothing left in you anymore. You didn’t have the energy to keep fighting back, you didn’t have the energy to explain yourself. You shouldn’t have to, and you don’t want to.

Was it wrong to turn down Jisung’s graduation for your bestfriend?

When you said you had no energy, you truly meant it, and Hongjoong clearly did, too. The both of you hadn’t texted or called, let alone seen each other in those two weeks. You weren’t really sure what Hongjoong was up to, but you couldn’t think about much while wrapping up senior year and getting ready for graduation around the corner. Maybe the break was needed, maybe you two really needed the space.

You honestly would’ve thought this was the end of you two.

He manages to prove you and everyone wrong again when he shows up to your graduation, with a big bouquet in hand. Wooyoung nudges you when he catches him across the street, walking over with San, Mingi, Jisung and a few other of their guy friends [who are probably here for Yunho]. He’s dressed in a dark grey short-sleeve dress shirt that’s loosely tucked into his black slacks with black boots. Your parents catch him on their way over to the field to get to their seats, pulling him into a tight hug before pointing over at you, Wooyoung, Ara and Yunho. Your parents [or his] never really knew the extent of your fights, which is why everything seems so fine and dandy in their eyes. Rose-tinted glasses, glitter and gold.

“Congrats!” San yells, hugging all of you before Mingi and the rest make their way around the group.

“You’re here.” You look at him with a slight fondness in your eyes because even though the past weeks have been a mess, Hongjoong still makes you weak. He gives you a tiny smile before pulling you in for a tight hug.

“I missed you. I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your temple before giving you a kiss. “Congrats, my pretty girl.” He tilts your chin up to press a kiss against your lips.

“Thank you, Joong.” He gives you another chaste kiss to the temple before they bid their farewells and rush to the field, the commencement ceremony scheduled to start in a few minutes.

It was a hot day, but nonetheless, a happy day. You felt happy finally getting through college and graduation with your bestfriends alongside of you. Your parents and Hongjoong stand near the stage to snap photos of you as you walk across and grab your diploma, the crowd roaring in celebration. After the ceremony, you, your friends, their families and loved ones all take hours to take photos together before agreeing to eat at a nearby restaurant together for a small, but intimate way to close the day. You would have never known that things had gone awry with you and Hongjoong with the way he lovingly held you, kissed you, kept you close. Though deep down, it was still hurtful to know that this wouldn’t last. That you’d have to accept the fact that this was only temporary.

Hongjoong’s graduation followed the next weekend, and you ended up heading to Jisung’s for a bit before helping with Wooyoung’s party. Wooyoung didn’t really like the idea, and you had apologized for going back on your promise of sticking with him throughout the entire party. But it happened anyway, even if Hongjoong dropped you off to head to Jisung’s party without you.

As long as you were okay, as long as you had stopped crying and feeling so shitty, Wooyoung was okay. Even though he really couldn’t stand what this had become.

But if Wooyoung could save your world from crumbling just a little bit longer, he’ll do that.

Fuck the rest.

—CURRENT

“My birthday baby.” Hongjoong squeezes at your hips before biting onto his bottom lip, eyes ogling your dress and how it hugs you in all the right places, fits perfectly over your curves.

“Hi.” You smile up at him, hands lazily hanging around his neck.

“You’re so beautiful, love.” He says softly, kissing the tip of your nose before moving down to your lips. Jaw. Neck. You giggle in his grip, gently pushing him back by the chest. “I love you.”

“Thank you. I love you, too.” You smile lovingly at him.

“Ready to go? I think everyone’s waiting for the birthday girl to arrive.” You laugh and nod, letting him lead the way to his car.

You and Hongjoong had a good talk about your relationship and where things stood, being able to communicate properly about your needs, wants, giving each other space and letting the other be their own person. There was a tiny conversation about his current status with Tara, and he vaguely told you that they were back to being friends but he swore up and down that it was just.. that. He told you honestly that he wasn’t sure why he had to cut her off when there wasn’t anything going on between them, and that he felt like he didn’t need to. That you needed to trust him and he’d have no problem reassuring you.

So, that was it. And it worked well. It was a bit of adjustment at first, but you knew giving Hongjoong the space he needed was crucial— just as it was for you. You had stopped coming along to every single party or hangout back at home, only seeing his parents from time to time unless they visited Joong at his apartment. It was the same with your family; yet again, none of them knowing what kind of rollercoaster had gone on in your relationship during the past two years.

They just took it as you two evolving in your relationship, keeping things healthy. Alive.

They barely knew about all the nights you cried, you yelled, breaking dishes and cups; having Wooyoung come and save you while Hongjoong stormed off.

You suppose it’s better that way. In the end, you two were still growing and learning. Maybe.

You ended up renting a small studio in the heart of the city after snagging a job right after graduation. Hongjoong and San moved into another place of their own, while Mingi moved back home to help his family and work for their company while he continued his job search. Wooyoung also lived in the heart of the city, renting an in-law while he worked his part-time job and internship at a bigger company. Everything seemed to be going well for everyone, and you couldn’t have asked for more at this point. It seemed too good at one point, but you weren’t going to dwell on it; taking everything for what it is.

The club you decided to celebrate your birthday at is packed with people, but you’re able to easily slip in since Wooyoung, Hongjoong and the rest of your friends chipped in for a VIP table. The DJ was already blasting his music, while you and your friends were off to a quick start with shots. It didn’t take long before you were drunk and dancing the night away with everyone, with Hongjoong— sharing cute, affectionate moments in between. It’s not until he steps away with San to grab another drink at the bar that Mingi swoops you away and playfully dances around with you for a bit; this being the very moment when everything changed.

When your world came crumbling down in one quick, swift motion.

“Dude, to be honest.” Mingi lazily keeps his arm around your shoulder while leaning in towards your ear. “I didn’t know if you and Hongjoong would actually make it through.”

“We had our rough patches, Mangi. I wasn’t sure what things would look like either, but we’re here.” You smile at him and he laughs.

“I know, I know. It’s just.. he had been with Tara a lot. It was confusing.” You furrow your brows at him. “But, I’m glad you two are okay and back to being good. Like.. I’m glad he’s with you. I know he can be dumb but I’m glad it’s you. You’re good for him, sometimes I don’t think he realizes it.” You’re a little appalled at the stuff coming out of Mingi’s mouth, and half of you wants to blame it all on the alcohol. Though, you know you can’t because where on earth would Mingi come up with this? Shit doesn’t just form out of thin air.

“Uh, yeah. I hope so.” Is all you respond with before he pinches your cheek and leaves.

“There she is.” Hongjoong finds you in the crowd, another glass in his hand. “Taste this, it’s so good.” You sip on the drink and nod in approval.

“Thanks, babe.” He gives you a look.

“You okay, baby girl?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Have you seen Ara? I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His tilts your chin up.

“Yeah, I just really need to pee and freshen up.” He slowly nods.

“She’s with San over there.” He points behind you, where you find Ara and San flirting around like they always do. “Seems kinda busy though? I can wait for you outside the bathroom.”

“No Joong, it’s fine. I’ll be alright. I’ll be quick.” You give him a small smile, and he finally lets up with a quick kiss to your forehead and a quick ass-grab. You interrupt San and Ara, letting them know you need her to accompany you to the bathroom. She agrees, linking her arm with yours, but just like Wooyoung, she can tell something else is wrong. Who knows, maybe Hongjoong is onto you too, but you could care less because you don’t know how to confront him about this.

Nor do you want to on your birthday.

“My birthday girl! Are you drunk enough? Why do you look so sober?”

“It’s nothing.” She looks at you and holds you close to her side. “I just need some space.” Quite frankly, you just need her company more than anything. You just need somebody other than Hongjoong.

“Why? Did something happen with Hongjoong?”

“Mm, no.” You lie. You lie to her, you lie to yourself. You lie and you lie in hopes that it’ll ease the pain slowly seeping into your body, in hopes it’ll somehow make things easier for you to accept the harsh reality of your relationship.

Of your home.

“You sure? Do you wanna sneak out of here and go back to my place? You can tell me anything, you know that, right?” You nod. “Or do you want me to get Woo?”

“No, no. It’s okay. I’m just gonna freshen up and head back out there. Thanks for coming with me.” She smiles and squeezes your arm as you two move to the front of the bathroom line.

“Of course, my love!” She chuckles. “I’m glad you did because I didn’t realize how badly I needed to pee.” You laugh, resting your head against hers until a stall opens up for you two to squeeze in and share.

The rest of the night, you’re distancing yourself from Hongjoong enough so that you can still enjoy the night, but not keep him too close. It’s fucking painful to hear Mingi’s words repeatedly in your head, and even though you don’t have concrete evidence to back it up, you already know it’s not needed. You just know, and that is the worst feeling. And this— this is the same gut-wrenching anxiety that you’ve always felt every time she was around, every time you saw her name randomly pop up. It’s the same feeling in your gut, the same feeling that was telling you something was wrong,

Hongjoong doesn’t catch onto anything else, or at least, he doesn’t question you. Instead he has his hand on your thigh and showers you with kisses, oblivious to the fact that Mingi might have just knocked over and spilled his jar of secrets. The apartment is quiet since San is out grabbing food with a few others, giving Hongjoong leverage to kiss you in the living room— his urge, his need, evident through his touch, the deepening of the kiss, Hongjoong pushing himself up against you. But you break the kiss with a simple [but sad] smile, encouraging him to go wash up so you can follow. He laughs and whines a bit before he’s finally grabbing clothes and heading for the bathroom. You’re able to release the breath you’ve been holding, even though your chest hurts and you’re trying your best to not let this completely consume you.

The universe has different plans. Maybe, just maybe, it had been time for things to unravel.

A ding comes from Hongjoong’s phone, and you can’t help but glance at the screen. It’s Tara, but you’re having to unlock his phone to view the preview this time. You nervously navigate to his text thread with her, finding that the entire thread is choppy— big gaps in between dates, some closer than others. But, your eyes land on the first text in the thread and you instantly feel sick to your stomach.

It’s a text from about a year ago, during that summer when you spent with Hongjoong, with his family. The summer you couldn’t spend a second away from him because all you wanted was Hongjoong, all you wanted was to kiss him, cuddle him, keep him close.

The summer he bought you your favorite breakfast bagel and smoothie before dropping you off to go ‘home.’

hongjoong: do you wanna come over and stay the night at the apartment?

tara: yeah! should i leave soon?

hongjoong: yeah im just gonna be here

tara: i’ll be on my way!

tara: joongie i’m outside

hongjoong: meet you at the door in a sec

You feel your hands shaking the more you go through the thread, eyes welling up with tears as the realization hits and settles.

Hongjoong made you trust him, made you believe in everything he said. You put your faith in all his actions, thinking he was truly doing his best to make up for everything he’s done and said.

All of that going to waste.

hongjoong: you home? can i stop by and say hi?

tara: yup!

There is a huge gap after he claimed he so-called cut her off, but it doesn’t mean that the thread ends. There are other texts between them asking if the other is going to be at so and so’s house, or if the other is going to be at so and so’s party. There’s texts of Hongjoong asking if he can pop by and say hi at her place before there’s another big gap and Tara’s texting to ask if she can see him [spoiler: he says yes].

tara: are you going to channie’s?

hongjoong: yeah, are you?

tara: i’m not sure, i wasn’t really feeling it

hongjoong: go 😞

tara: lol why the sad face, isn’t your girlfriend coming?

hongjoong: nah shes not..

tara: ohhh okay, maybe then!

hongjoong: just go, wanna see you ☹️

You don’t even read the recent text because you simply can’t. You remember every single time he mentioned those kick-its, those parties, but not once did you ever think he’d mainly go to see Tara and vice versa. You toss the phone aside and begin to pack your things, fitting them in the bag you came with— not even worrying about how you can haul the rest out right now.

“Girl, I just got home from dropping Ara off. Please don’t tell me I have to slip back into my shit and—”

“Can you meet me at my place? Please.”

“Oh. Shit, yeah, of course. I’m already on my way.” He says, picking up on the shakiness in your voice. Hongjoong is still in the shower and you’re grateful you chose to drive to his place so that you can easily slip out and leave. You’re very much sober and at your breaking point; all you can think about is getting away as soon as possible.

Because the moment you step through your door, you collapse to the floor and start crying. Crying about all the fights, crying about all the times you let up and let Hongjoong get his way. Crying about all the times you let every little feeling, every little detail, brush over your head. Crying about how much you trusted him, loved him.

“Shit, Y/N. What the fuck?” Wooyoung immediately drops to the floor, arms thrown over you as he shushes you and tries to calm you down. He has never heard you cry this hard, has never heard you long for air this badly in between cries. It kills him and he’s not even sure how he can help you right now. And that for him is a first.

When you’re able to breathe a bit, you let everything out on the table. You tell Wooyoung what Mingi said, you tell him about the texts, you tell him about all these instances that you brushed over and didn’t think much of— when in fact, you should’ve stuck to your gut feeling and questioned everything. When you should’ve pressed harder, when you shouldn’t have trusted him so easily. And the realization hits you again because fuck, it is so painful to know that the person you loved for two years hadn’t really been there for you. That he was physically there, but his heart, his soul, wasn’t entirely yours. Probably wasn’t even yours to begin with. And you are so, so stupid for thinking Hongjoong was over her.

Maybe you were just the excuse.

The rebound.

The one he needed for his own selfish reasons.

It was never about you.

And Wooyoung continues to hold you and rock you, because there’s nothing like finding out that the person you invested in didn’t do the same back. There’s nothing like finding out the time you spent on someone, the amount of vulnerability, trust, emotion that came with loving someone for two years, had meant nothing. Wooyoung could murder Hongjoong right now, but that’s the least of his worries because Hongjoong isn’t crying his fucking heart out on a studio floor.

You are.

“I don’t know what I did wrong.” You mumble into his chest. “I don’t know why I wasn’t enough, Woo. How could he just do that to me? I meant nothing to him—”

“Y/N, don’t ever let me hear you blame yourself again. You hear me? This was not your fault. You gave everything your all to him because you were an amazing girlfriend. He fucked up, and he fucked up big time. This is all him.” Your broken sobs continue to echo in your studio, your phone now constantly going off from Hongjoong’s texts and calls. When he unlocked his phone to text you, he noticed Tara’s thread open. So he panics, and he panics.

Calling, texting. Almost ready to jump in his car and explain this even though he can’t.

But Wooyoung shuts off your phone and locks the door, telling Yunho, San and Mingi to tell Hongjoong to back the hell up. That he doesn’t want him near you, and that Hongjoong would know better than to confront the both of you right now.

It all feels like a blur, like white noise; static.

2 years of nothing.

Home to him might’ve meant so many different things; people, places, feelings. But to you, home was Hongjoong. Hongjoong has always been a home to you, everything about home. A home wasn’t a home without him.

But tonight, home looked a little different. Home looks like the empty bed you’re staring at, the dark room, the stillness of your surroundings even as Wooyoung sleeps on the couch. Tonight, home felt a little different, especially when you cry and feel your heart shatter to a million pieces looking at the cold, empty space next to you in bed, Hongjoong’s clothes from your closet tossed all over the place, ripped pictures across your desk that Wooyoung had to snatch out of your grip.

Because did you deserve this? All of this?

It was never about you.

Home was meant to be you and Hongjoong, but all the significant cracks in the relationship that lead to this, the one unfortunate blow that completely destroys you— every bit of you, everything you know, all the love that you’ve had.

Now, there is nothing left of you.

Nothing left of this home you built.

—a/n: ty for sitting through this very personal piece of mine; a reminder that you are beautiful and so, so deserving of the best love and happiness. ♡

—taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @hyukssunflower @everyonewooeverywhere @mcsalterego @persphonesorchid

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coral-melon · 7 months

Text

Tangled Nightmare!

Obey me! Brothers x Curly!MC (reader)

Genre: Crack/shenanigans, Fluff; slightly suggestive?

No pronouns said but probably AFAB

Hopefully isn’t too OOC ._ .🤞

Summary: Your hair is being impossible and you need help detangling your hair. This is for my hella curly hair peeps! Kinda slightly self-indulgent too.. but my other peeps are more than welcome to imagine themselves here!

You’ve been procrastinating over when you felt like washing and do your hair. Under normal circumstances, you do your hair once a week. You kinda skipped it though, saying it didn’t look bad at all — which it wasn’t, why even take the life out of it when it could last a bit longer? It’s been 3 weeks…

Today was the day you were ready to do your hair! Your take out your brushes, washing and styling products. You got everything ready to just be in a happy, productive mood. What could possibly go wrong?

-Dun dun- your hair was impossible! You wash and put plenty of conditioner but your brush just wouldn’t go through! Your arms were tired and your hands were getting cramps; you’ve been at it for a while and tried many things, but nothing! You were on the verge of giving up and going bald, but you go to your last resort, getting another pair of hands and eyes. So you summon your boyfriend!

Lucifer

This man was busy buried in his yet again endless mountains of paperwork. He was so close to just drowning himself in demonus to get by at this point..

But suddenly, he hears your call and the dreadful scene was changed when he was summoned… to the bathroom?

He then sees you, peeking through the shower curtains, bawling your eyes out. He was about to scold you for calling him at such a busy hour, but the thought was kicked right out the window at the sight of seeing your tearful eyes. He keeps his composure though; he needs to understand the situation at hand, after all.

— “My dear, what happens?” He asks as he got closer to you.

— “Lucifer, please help me! I’m on the verge of shaving it all off!” You say after taking a deep breath.

He’s a bit confused at first, but when you reveal the utter mess you had on your head, he understood what you were so frantic about; but at the same time, he was still dumbfounded. He clears throat, and asks you what you need him to do.

You wouldn’t be able to tell that he’s actively stressing on the inside, he’s graceful at everything he does even if he doesn’t have the slightest clue of what he’s doing.

He couldn’t help his mind to.. slightly wonder off. You had sat down on the bathtub with your back facing him, told him how he could pull your hair as much as he wanted.. as long as it detangled the knots, of course!

He had always been infatuated with your curls, but this experience gave him an insight of just how much effort you put into making it look how it always does.

This was also quite satisfying to him, it destressed him to the point where he almost forgot about the work that was still waiting for him at his office.. And for you, it felt like a heavenly massage.. he’ll check you every now to make sure you’re alright.

It took a while, but him being him, everything worked out in the end! Your curls finally softened and ever so defined✨

You thank him profusely, saying that you wouldn’t know what you’d do with yourself it it weren’t for him.

But he simply looked at you with a sinister gentle smile and darkened eyes..

— "I presume that you already know this means that you have a great price to pay for taking up my time, correct..? I suggest you don't keep me waiting for long."

Mammon

Your summon was literally a blessing, he was in a bit of a tight spot with some witches and you saved him in the nick of time!

— “Mammon, you gotta help me!” So I guess it’s only fair he helped you too..

You explain to him what’s going on in a frantic state, would ask you to go to a hair salon, but you starting crying about how expensive that would be. 100% understands and doesn’t question it any farther. So he tries to calm you down, saying he gots this!

— “Ha! Don’cha even worry about it! The great Mammon’s gonna handle this; no problem!✨💪🏽”

His confidence gave you reassurance and put you at ease, you were finally saved! He’d be decent at it, it’s not as unbearable at all and would be soothing to the point of falling soundly asleep.. if he wasn’t so on and off about it!

You’d eventually learn that he just couldn’t help but get distracted by your naked body. Your back facing him, fully exposed to him.. And your hair was just perfect.. ack! Nono! None of that right now! If he could, he’d worship you.

He’d be like: Lord have mercy.. We must stay focused, bothers! We must. Stay focused!

Fell in love with you over and over again every time he passed the brush through you hair. Watching intently how your hair curled so beautifully..

Every now and then, the thought of selling a bit of your hair also came to mind. But quickly gets rid of the idea; you worked how to maintain it, you’d kill him if he chopped it!

Overall, pretty nice and bonding experience. Later thinks about how he wants you to do the same for him.. But he could never admit that out loud!

Feels all high and mighty when you thank him! Of course you should be grateful to him; He took the time out of his busy schedule to help you out and everything! …Kinda forgetting the fact that he would’ve been roasted by witches if it weren’t for you.

— “Hmph, nothin’ I couldn’t handle! Though that’s gonna cost ya a hefty pri—! Oi wait wait! I’m jokin, I’m jokin!… Half joking..”

Leviathan

He was in the middle of choosing a spot to proudly display he’s latest figure collection. But that was soon interrupted when he was summoned to the bathroom.

You call for him as you peek through the shower curtain, motioning him to come closer. He freezes for a moment, until he finally realizes that his in the same room as you while you’re naked.

Proceeds to do that Finn scream*

— “Levi. Levi! Do not freak out, cuz I’m freaking out; and we can’t have two people freaking out! It just doesn’t work. You’re the only one that can help me!” You say, trying to have him not run out on you.

After some back and forth bickering and convincing, you finally managed to get him the courage he needed to help you out!

Don’t look at him though; especially not in the eyes, he’ll simply die.💀

He’s face will be completely red the whole time, you would think he’d pass out at some point… don’t get me wrong, he did — almost. You give him an idea to summon something that’ll splash him with cold water whenever he started to wobble.

In his head, there’s two voices: the one that’s been constantly screaming, and the one that is pretty much worshiping every time he strokes you hair.

Oh, Lemme give you some hope. -Ahem-🎤Don’t be fooled though! This guy does cosplay, therefore knows to do hair. Prove me otherwise!

Knows exactly how to deal with knots without ruining the hair, so at least it wasn’t painful! Your hair is far too sacred for him to mess up!

Once he finishes, there’s a short moment where he feels so proud of himself. But whatever was gripping onto the thin strand keeping his soul together breaks after you gave him a wide smile and thanked him for saving you!

— [ERROR] Levichan.exe does not compute.

Satan

He was getting mad over something, though he himself didn’t know what it was. So he was gonna go destress by flipping Lucifer off but you suddenly summonsed him.

He sensed you were frustrated before he could even see you. So it didn’t come as a surprise when you peeked through while gripping the shower curtains and heated tears in your eyes.

— “What happened, sweetheart?”

— “I’m this close to going apeshit and ripping my hair out.. Please help me!”

Doesn’t know how to handle curly hair, of course. But he’s willing to try. After all, He can’t just leave you like that! Your hair is like a work of art to him, so he wouldn’t want you shaving it off in a pit of rage! You got lucky this time, Lucifer..

Welp, he found a new coping mechanism! This was like a puzzle for him to solve, one that would also make you happy and him quite quite satisfied in the end. That was enough for him to get him going.

He was firm with how he handled you tangled hair, but in a good way. He did his best to not pull too hard and hurt you accidentally.

Keeps it respectful. But~ I do imagine his hands would go through your scalp and gently pulls on the roots of your hair in a very teasing manner. Will play dumb if you ask about it. ((Ever seen that hair pull massage video? Yeah, that))

And/Or, will play with your hair a bit like cats do when they’re massaging their paws onto something soft.

All in all, you’ll feel like you’ve ascended into a new level of lightheadedness with how at ease you head feel. Whatever headache you had a moment ago is long gone!

He comes to appreciate your hair a lot more after this; he’s a blond with short straight hair, so he didn’t fully grasp just how much work it actually is to maintain you hair.. See? A work of art!

He’s already thinking of the next time he could do this. Like I said before, this was his new coping mechanism and I don’t think you can’t do anything about it once he made up his mind.

— “You should let me do this again the next time you wash your hair, it was a very pleasing experience..”

Asmodeous

While in the middle of choosing what perfume and lipstick to where to the day, he could already sense beauty troubles before you could even think about summoning him.

When your call beckons him to come, he is ready. You peek through the curtains with tearful eyes, too embarrassed to really want to show him the mess that happened but not really having a choice at this point.

— “Love, Don’t even say a word! Asmo’s here to help~♡”

Gets immediately to work! He already had his hair products ready. You would think it’s kinda unnecessary to have as many products as he had on hand, but why even question it?

And ooh, how flawless he was.. You felt like you were at a spa with how at ease you felt. You could hear him cry out every now and then, saying how awfully tangled your hair was. But not once did you feel any pain.

But when he isn’t crying, he talks to you like hairstylists do at a hair salon. He tells you about some gossip he heard at Majolish and some products he’s planning on sharing with you. He asks you some questions and all in all, have a good time together. It’s honestly very fun!

By the end of it all, you’ve never felt more replenished. Your curls look the liveliest they’ve ever been, and you hadn’t even added your hair products or defused it!

He finished way quicker than what you would’ve taken. You probably still would’ve been only have way after all this time.

He’ll be fawning over you and saying how obsessed he is about your curls. ..but might start getting touchy since he hadn’t during that whole time. Which is kinda surprising he lasted this long.

— “Why don’t we go straight to my room? I’d love to try some hairstyles and new products on you!… Oh, no need to put clothes on, hon~ ;)”

Beelzebub

He was in the middle of doing some warmups before starting his regular workout routines. So imagine his surprise when he suddenly ends up in the bathroom.

But what surprised him even more was you peeking through the shower curtain, barely being able to hold your tears of frustration. Though you can’t stay feeling that way for long when you have a big fella worrying and asking you what’s wrong.

— “I need another pair of hands and eyes.. Could you help me out?” You say and laugh sheepishly.

— “Y-Yeah, sure! Just tell me what do to..”

The last thing he expected was to do your hair and has no experience whatsoever. But he’s washed and bushed Belphie’s hair before, so how hard can it be?

You two really need to stop underestimating the situation.💀👍

Has no idea what he’s doing but he will be so gentle! He also apologizes softly every time he pulls and brushes your hair, which is quite often.

His hands went through your hair so nicely, massaging your scalp and often playing with your hair. Your hair is so pretty..! So pretty.. it looks good… very good..

— “Beel, do not eat my hair!”

— “Oh, right. Sorry..”

But, I mean come on! Based on his logic, Your hair looks and feels so good.. it even smells amazing! So why wouldn’t it taste good too? It’s very tempting👀✨ if you want a speedy haircut, he’s your guy!

Very good at following directions, and appreciates that you tell him to divide your hair into sections to that it’s easier for him to detangle the knots. He makes sure to ask if it hurts or if you’re doing alright.

Also very respectful! Keeps his eyes where he should be putting them, doesn’t touch you where he shouldn’t and doesn’t make the situation weird; he would never want to make you feel uncomfortable. Though you can see that there’s a soft hint of blush decorating his cheeks..

This ends up being the most unique workout for him, one that required a hella amount of delicacy and patience. And self control.

You thank him for helping you out, joking about how you would’ve just shaved it all off if you couldn’t do it. He’s just happy that your happy.

*Growl..* “Oh, I’m starving now. I’ll head toward the kitchen so come join me when you’re done, okay?”

Belphegor

Obviously sleeping in some who knows where corner in the most uncomfortable position imaginable. Your summon kinda saves him from that.

This guy was dumbfounded when you asked him to help you with your hair. Like, don’t you know him?? He hasn’t even brushed his own hair this week, you think he can handle your hair?!

— “Belphie, Please! I can’t just ask someone else!”

— “Go to the hair salon or something!”

— “Don’t you know how expensive that is?? They’ll charge me a shit ton!”

He can’t refuse you when you’re this distressed about what’s going on. So he’ll reluctantly agree to help you, but doesn’t promise to do a good job. Will ask again if you’re sure you want him to help you; ..oh well, your decision.

Decides that the best course of action..! Is to look it up in DevilTube. Ain’t no way this mans knows what he’s doing.

There’s a 75% chance you’ll end up worse than when how you started. His movements are so stiff, and awkward, way too rough for your scalp, and all in all, just ass.

Will sarcastically tell you to just leave it like that, it’ll work fine as a pillow. That, of course, is not an option.

He’ll also play with your hair, making a bubble tower; and if possible? Make shapes with your hair. I’m telling you, your hair will get a lot worse with him ;—;

But lo and behold, if a miracle happens and somehow managed to detangle it? You’ll never skip a week of your hair routine. This horrible learning experience taught you that routines are very important or else all hell will break lose.

He never exercise, so imagine how how numb and exhausted his arms will feel after this?? Got to learn where you get most of your strength from even if you don’t look strong.. will want to make you just as exhausted as he feel. Do with that information what you will.

Moral of the story, don’t ask Belphie to help you. You’re better off doing it yourself!👍

— *huff, huff* “Your hair must be one of hell’s miserable wonders.. *Pant* You owe me a long cuddle session after this..!”

End

My magic wouldn’t work on Belphie’s dialogue.. ;-;

But Oh god, I had so much fun with this! I could stop laughing at some of them when I kept imagining them in my head. So I hope you too also had a good laugh when reading this! ^^⸝⸝

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me shenanigans #obey me crack #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me oneshot #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me scenarios

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xplrnoname · 3 months

Text

𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑳𝒀.

#request: colby and reader go on their very first official date.

no warnings, no explicit content. just lots and lots of tension and fluff!

This wasn’t something you’d been expecting. Least from Colby most of all. You’d met a while back through mutual friends and the more you got to know him, the more you became infatuated. But you’d always deemed it impossible. Unreachable. Unattainable. You’d seen a few other women come and go and knew, even though it was never explicitly stated, that they were there for Colby.

It’s not like you had any right to be jealous or upset. You two were friends, nothing more. So when he randomly asked you out on a date the other night while the two of you lounged lazily on the sofa — not even glancing up from his phone as he spoke, you were left feeling like a deer in headlights.

It was completely out of left field, especially considering he’d never actually flirted with you. Not once, at least that you could recall.

But to say you were nervous would be a massive understatement. You could feel your hands trembling as you fought to get your eyeliner to match. Your heart pounded like a chorus of drums as you searched through your closet for the perfect outfit. Your stomach twisted in knots as that one little text message pinged on your phone.

i’m outside x

Oh god, just don’t throw up. Don’t throw up.

You took in a heavy, shaky breath of air as you snatched your keys and headed for the front door. Pulling it closed behind you as you stepped out into the cool Las Vegas air.

His car was parked near the far end of the driveway, the shadow of his frame visible from where you stood and you could already feel a lump forming in the back of your throat. It wasn’t a negative feeling, by any means. But you were still incredibly taken aback. Stunned. All of it was so out of left field, you thought maybe this was some cruel dream and you’d wake up any minute now.

This was your friend, for crying out loud. Your FRIEND, Colby Brock. Someone you hung out with on a regular basis. Why did you suddenly feel so nervous just from the mere thought of getting in the car with him? Sitting so dangerously close; why did that make your heart skip a beat as if you’ve never been in the car with him plenty of times before?

You reached out and pulled the passenger car door open, sliding in with a smile that you hoped wouldn’t give away just how flustered you actually were. Colby’s smile seemed to match yours, though, wide and bright.

“There she is!” He chimed as he turned his attention more towards you, head on, one hand still perched on the steering wheel.

You didn’t realize just how shaky you actually were until you reached to pull the seat belt across your chest and lock it in, letting out a soft giggle in an attempt to mask it the best you could.

Colby visibly trailed his gaze from your face down the length of your frame, and back up again. Not even trying to hide it. “You look pretty.”

The weight of his eyes on you had the heat pooling beneath the skin of your cheeks, painting them bright pink. This was such a stark contrast to how he usually interacted with you and it was throwing you for a loop.

“Thank you,” you mumbled softly, biting down on your lower lip. “You look really nice too.”

He looked incredibly good — dressed clad in his faux leather black pants with that silver chain dangling from his hip, and a black t-shirt with a spider web design intricately displayed across the front. Colby was probably the most handsome boy you’d ever met, but you’d never openly admitted that anyone. Not even yourself, entirely.

You blinked, shifting in your seat a little bit as you watched him turn back towards the wheel. Switching the gear from park to drive and pulling out onto the road with a swift maneuver. “So, where are we going exactly?”

Colby kept his eyes on the road even as he curled his lips up into a smirk.

“Remember when you told me not that long ago, that you thought for sure you’d be able to beat me at Mario kart?”

You narrowed your eyes and gave a slow nod of your head, clasping your hands together in your lap. “Yeah, I remember. Why?”

He shot you a quick glance, a mischievous one, before focusing back on the road ahead of him.

“Figured I’d put that theory to the test,” Colby spoke as he reached to switch his blinker on, turning into a large parking lot as he couldn’t help but to chuckle.

Before you even had the opportunity to ask what he meant, your eyes landed on the large building in front of you and that’s when it clicked in your head.

You raised your brows as a smile tugged at your features. “Dave & Busters?!”

Colby couldn’t hide the faint blush painting his cheeks even if he tried, flashing a sheepish smile as he nodded his head.

“Yeah, why not?” You didn’t even register the way he reached his hand out and hooked his index finger right underneath your chin, leaning in so he was closer than before. “Come on, show me what you got.”

Was he trying to kill you or what? Because god, you were already seconds away from death at this point. Both of you got out of the car and walked inside, paying for two game cards that would allow you to play as many games as you wanted for at least an hour.

You were immediately pulled over towards skeeball, waving your hands up in defeat before you’d even started. You and balls? Definitely didn’t go hand in hand. Pun not entirely intended. Colby rolled his eyes and gripped your wrist, placing you right in front of him as he scanned his card in the machine.

“I’m terrible at these!”

Colby merely chuckled and you immediately felt the warm puff of his breath against the back of your neck, sending a shiver shooting up your spine. “Just aim down the middle, and throw it hard.”

You were hesitant, but grabbed one of the heavy metal balls anyway. A larger hand seemed to wrap around yours and help guide your arm back, cheeks flushing bright red as he gave a quick push and you threw the ball forward. It rolled and rolled and only ended up landed in the 10 point slot, but that was still significantly better than you’d been expecting of yourself.

“See? There you go!” He cheered you on, stepping to the side so he could grab a ball himself and aim it down the middle of the ramp.

Your eyes followed as it tilted upward and landed in the 20 point slot, earning a wide grin and an enthusiastic clap from Colby. It wasn’t long before you were whisked away to another game — this time it was Mario kart. The one he’d brought you here for to begin with.

You climbed into the seat next to him, watched him scan the card once more, and immediately went to pick your favorite character — Princess Daisy. Colby seemed to go for king boo, which was extremely fitting, and you couldn’t help but to smile.

“You’re going down, Brock,” you egged him on as you decided to be a little bit bold and flash him a quick wink.

It definitely didn’t go unnoticed, because you saw the faint glow of red flush to his cheeks and you hoped to god it was because of you and not the arcade lights hanging from above.

Colby rolled his eyes and pressed the start button, hands gripping the fake steering wheel tightly. “We’ll see about that, pretty girl.”

You were so caught up in the whirlwind of butterflies swarming your stomach that you didn’t even realize the race had already started, blinking furiously as you quickly hit the gas pedal and tried to catch up.

“Fuck!”

Colby let out a loud laugh as he twisted and turned the steering wheel in every which direction he could, fighting to maintain his spot in first place. You were definitely struggling, but you were slowly gaining traction and getting closer to closer to Colby, eventually ending up right on his tail on the third and final lap of the race.

Colby quickly looked over, panic written across his face. “No no no!”

You both were so damn close to the finish line, wheel to wheel at this point, and within the last second you were able to cross that line within an inch of him. Immediately throwing your hands up in celebration.

“HA! I got you, I got you!”

Colby let his head fall back against the chair, a defeated little sigh escaping from the back of his throat before he turned to look at you, smiling sheepishly. And truly, it was the cutest smile you’d ever seen. He was so pretty, so cute, so —

He had pushed himself up from his seat and leaned forward, hand resting on the back of yours so he could balance himself and not completely crush your underneath him. It took you a second to fully register what was happening when you felt soft, gentle lips press against your own in a sudden kiss. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and your heart pounded so fast, you thought for certain it was going to burst right out of your chest.

You could even feel him smiling against your mouth and the sound that rumbled from deep within him — the lowest, most subtle hum, had you seeing stars. He tasted absolutely heavenly, too.

Just as quickly as it had happened, it was over. You swallowed, unable to get yourself to speak as you stared wide eyed back at Colby. He reached his free hand down and lightly swiped the pad of his thumb across your lower lip, eventually standing back up straight and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“The food’s kind of overpriced here. How about we head back to the house and order in some pizza? Sound good?”

“I —” it was impossible not to stutter. You were dazed and confused in the best fucking way. And he knew it, too. “Yeah, actually. I like that idea.”

You had gone back home with Colby many times before. Many nights were spend at the Vegas house with him and Sam. But there had always been other friends, other girls. This time, though, this invitation felt so different to any of those other nights. Because there was no way you were going back as just friends. Not anymore.

And you were completely and totally cool with that.

#colby brock #sam and colby #colby brock imagine #colby x reader #cole robert brock #xplr #x reader #y/n #sam and colby imagine

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munsonsmixtapes · 2 months

Text

Teach Me

Part Two Part Three

Steve x bi!fem!reader

Word count: 10,887

Summary: Steve teaches you about dating and in return, you teach him how to really please a woman in the bedroom.

CW: reader has a rough home life, mention of abuse, Eddie and reader are friends with benefits

Part One: The Agreement

Steve had always considered himself a romantic. Seeing his parents together really made him believe in love. The way they would hold hands in the car or at the table when they went out to eat. He loved romance movies and the warm and fuzzy feeling they gave him, hoping that he would find his own love.

He had thought he had it with Nancy, but that obviously didn’t work out. He could still remember their exact conversation before they ended things. She had called him “bullshit” then moved on to Jonathan pretty quickly after that. He didn’t know why he had been thinking about it so many years later. He was over her. At least, that was what he was telling himself.

He knew that the woman for him was out there even if he had to look hard. If he was honest, he had wanted to start something with you. He had been infatuated with you since Eddie had introduced you to the group all those months ago, but he didn’t think he was your type.

“Earth to Steve,” Robin waved her hand in front of his face as they stood in front of the diner that had finally replaced Benny’s.

“Sorry, what?” He turned to her, giving her his full attention again.

“I was asking what you were going to get this time.” The two of them had been plenty of times since the place had opened and were trying to eat everything on the menu. “Thinking about y/n, hm?”

The pair stepped inside and Steve was mesmerized by the bright colors and decor just like always. The whole place had the theme of a classic fifties diner and the floor was a black and white checkered pattern that was so clean that he swore he could see his reflection in it. There were red stools at the bar that seemed to be popular among customers and plenty of empty vinyl booths that were the same color. Waiters and waitresses whizzed by him on roller skates, all either holding trays of food or notepads to scribble down orders.

“No, I was-“

He cut himself off when he noticed you by the jukebox, sitting on the counter and doodling in the notepad you were supposed to be using for orders. He couldn’t help but stare like he did any time he saw you. You had been the only reason why Steve had even agreed to come. He’d go anywhere you were. He had a crush on you ever since you had been introduced to the group and everyone knew because of how obvious he was about it. Everyone but you, of course.

“Uh huh, sure. C’mon,” Robin pulled Steve over to the table where the hostess was leading them to but his eyes were still glued to you.

He was so engrossed in looking for something from the menu that he’d want to order that he didn’t even see you stroll up to the table. Robin had called his name multiple times and when that didn’t work, she kicked his shin under the table.

“Ow, what the hell,” he snapped his head to the girl across from him who nodded her head towards you. Your pretty eyes locked on him and his mouth went dry.

“Hi,” you chuckled at his reaction and he didn’t even care that you were laughing at him, he just liked hearing the sound. “I’m y/n and I’ll be your server today.” You didn’t like the idea of introducing yourself to people you already knew, but you couldn’t risk your manager writing you up again.

“What can I get you started with to drink,” you asked in the tone of voice you used with customers and Steve thought it was weird to see you so bubbly. In the many times they had eaten there, this had only been the second time they had been seated in your section.

“We’re ready to order if that’s okay,” he replied.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Of course.”

Steve wasn’t your type. He was the kind of guy you’d bring home to your mother and you were more into guys you had to sneak through your window because your parents didn’t approve of them. But that still didn’t stop you from flirting with him or giving him nicknames that you were sure would make him blush.

“I’ll uh-“ he cut himself off. “I’ll have the bacon cheeseburger.”

“That’s a great choice,” you nodded as he handed you his menu. “And for you,” you turned to Robin

“I’ll have the same. And a chocolate shake,” she gave the boy a knowing look, a joke just between the two of them.

“I’ll have that right out for you.” You turned to head to kitchen and Steve didn’t miss that you weren’t wearing skates like the other servers. He watched you until you disappeared behind the door then turned back to Robin who was writing in a small notebook. He grabbed it from her and wished he hadn’t when he saw what was on the page. There was a line down the middle with the words “you rule” on the left and “you suck” on the right. He pushed it back towards her, his mood turning sour.

“You made a portable version?” He hated that stupid game, especially because it was at his expense. He knew he wasn’t doing too hot as far as dating went, he didn’t need to see the proof on paper.

“I sure did.” Robin pulled the notebook back and Steve watched what was she was doing, knowing what column she was adding to but wanted to see for himself.

“Are you putting a tally under the ‘you suck’ column,” he asked in offense. That had to be a new record of how quick she was to do it.

“Yep,” she nodded as she closed the book and put it back in her purse. “I’m saving time. Even though I already gave you one when you first flirted with her.”

“I haven’t even asked her out yet so how do you know that I suck?” He couldn’t believe it. Was that really what it was coming to? Had King Steve finally lost his crown?

“Did you see the way she laughed at you? Sorry, but you can’t come back from that. She totally went back there to tell all the people in the kitchen and they’re all for sure laughing at you right now.”

“You’re mean,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And you’re a dingus. You know, now that I think about it, I actually think you might be able to turn it around. With my help at least. You’re kinda hopeless at this point.” He wanted to correct her, but he knew she was right.

“Gee, thanks, Rob,” he rolled his eyes. “Y/n would never laugh at me.”

“Maybe not to your face. Look, I can hype you up.” Steve knew she could, but was afraid that she would somehow end up revealing something embarrassing about him. She tended to babble so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, especially considering that she had already told you that most of Steve’s friend group was a bunch of teenagers out of context. How could she tell you the real reason when they were all bonded together by trauma from getting sucked into an alternate dimension multiple times? Who was going to believe that?

“I don’t think that’s going to work. Like you said, I’m hopeless.” Robin couldn’t believe that he was already giving up. He was the kind to at least try before he threw in the towel.

“Look, just leave it to me to save your ass once again.”

You exited the kitchen with a tray that carried the pair’s order and headed their way. Steve knew that it wasn’t exactly impressive for a server to be able to carry a tray with one hand, but damn was he mesmerized by the way you did it. The way you were able to dodge everyone in your way without spilling a single drop of Robin’s shake.

You headed their way with a bright smile and Steve was going to tell himself that it was for him specifically and totally not because it was your job to be nice to them.

You set the tray down on the table and Steve couldn’t help but focus on your close proximity. Your uniform was unzipped just enough to where he could see your cleavage and because he was a gentleman, he was trying his best to keep his eyes on your face.

“Here are your burgers,” you set the plates in front of them and grabbed Robin’s shake then set it next to her plate. “And your shake. Can I get you anything else?”

“Actually,” Robin turned her attention to you. “Can we get some ketchup?” You stepped over to the empty table beside them and grabbed the bottle before setting it in the middle of their plates.

“Will that be all?” You actually didn’t mind that Robin kept asking for things. It kept you busy in the lull before the dinner rush.

“I would also like a straw.” Steve knew what Robin was doing and he hated her for it. Could she be anymore obvious?

“Here you go,” you reached into the pocket on your apron and pulled out a straw before handing it to her. As you were doing so, you felt a hand squeeze your shoulder. You turned to your left to see a ringed hand that was attached to the familiar metal head. He was looking at you with a sweet smile and Steve didn’t miss the undeniable connection between the two of you.

Maybe it was because you hadn’t found someone who wasn’t a complete asshole, but you were beginning to think love was a scam. Because who in their right mind would willingly get into a relationship completely unaware if it would last or not? To you, the only way to avoid any type of heartbreak was to be single. You could definitely have your fun, but as soon as feelings were involved, you’d shut down the whole operation and move on to the next person.

That was why your whole thing with Eddie worked. It was a relationship without all the “feelings” bullshit. You could hangout with him outside of the bedroom and would actually enjoy yourself. You’d watch a movie together and he wouldn’t expect you to cuddle with him. Or he’d come over to hookup and bring some weed free of charge just because and not expect anything in return. You had an unexplainable bond and after all the shit you went through, you definitely deserved to have him in your life.

“Hey, l/n,” he greeted with his signature smile. “Miss me?” His hand squeezed your shoulder before letting go. He stood beside you and Steve didn’t miss the way you looked at each other. That wasn’t the way friends looked at each other, was it?

“Hey, Eds,” you smiled back. “Your table’s all ready if you wanna take a seat. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“You take your time, sweetheart. I don’t mind waiting,” he winked before heading over to his usual table and Steve couldn’t have been more grateful for him leaving. He was jealous of what you had with Eddie even if you weren’t actually dating.

“Is there anything else I can get you guys?” You asked making sure they didn’t need another thing before you headed over to take care of Eddie.

“I think that’s it,” Robin nodded, taking a sip from her milkshake. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you nodded back. “If you need anything else, let me know,” you smiled brightly then headed over to Eddie’s table.

He was looking over the menu even though you both knew exactly what he wanted; a plain cheeseburger and a Coke. He set the menu back on the table and looked up at you with him pretty brown eyes. He gave you his signature smile and you knew exactly why people were interested in him. He always knew exactly what to say to get into people’s pants and you admired him for that. After all, everything you knew about sex was because of him.

You scribbled down Eddie’s order then headed to the kitchen to drop off the slip. You stood at the window and watched Steve from afar, hoping that he wasn’t looking at you. He was definitely the prettiest guy you had ever seen, but you’d never admit that to anyone.

You weren’t usually attracted to guys like Steve so you didn’t know what made him different. Maybe because he was nice to you unlike the other guys in town who weren’t into your style or your personality. You were too aggressive in their eyes. You had too much sexual experience. They all wanted someone sweet and innocent, two things you definitely weren’t. You didn’t care, though. You didn’t care what anyone thought about you. That wasn’t any of your business.

Once Eddie’s order was ready, you grabbed it and headed to his table, setting it down in front of him and didn’t miss how he looked at your cleavage so quickly that you might have not seen it if you hadn’t been looking directly at him. You didn’t mind, though. At least you were getting attention.

“Thanks, doll,” Eddie smiled and you beamed at the nickname. Out of all the ones he had given you, that one was definitely your favorite.

“Anything else?”

“Nope,” he shook his head. “So what’s going on with you and Harrington?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “Why, you jealous, Munson?” Eddie scoffed at that. What you two had was strictly casual. He couldn’t have been attracted to you romantically if he tried.

“Not even close. I’m just looking out for you.”

“You don’t need to. I can take care of myself.” Eddie knew that, but he still felt the need to protect you. He wanted to make sure that you were taken care of since you didn’t seem to have anyone looking out for you.

“You should totally go out with him.” You let out a laugh at that. Eddie had been trying to set you up with Steve for months to no avail. You could see right through it and weren’t going to fall for his bullshit.

“I’m not looking for anything, remember?” That was partially true. As much as you didn’t like the idea of being tied down, you had to admit that going to bed to the same person every night sounded really nice.

“But Steve’s cool. Well, sometimes.“

“Why do I need a boyfriend when I have you?”

“Because I can’t be your only friend, l/n. You need friends that you don’t have sex with.” You knew he was right, but you liked the idea of hanging out with just Eddie. He was the only person that truly understood you. And bringing more people into your life just made it easier for them to leave. And you weren’t going to get hurt, not this time.

“Fine, whatever.” You turned on your heel to head for the bathroom, Eddie’s words ringing in the back of your head. Maybe he was right for once. You did need more friends. You always saw Steve and Robin laughing about things together and you wanted to be part of their jokes. You just wanted to be part of something for once. You were tired of being alone.

You exited the stall and washed your hands before heading back to check on your tables. On the way out of the little hallway, you ran into a hard chest. You didn’t have to look up to know it was Steve. You’d recognize that terrible shirt and the ugly color combo of stripes that adorned it anywhere.

You looked up at him and his lips parted like he was going to say something, but he stayed silent. He just closed his mouth, his eyes widening as he did so. You could tell that you made him nervous and that was funny to you. There was nothing for him to be nervous about when it came to you. You had heard all about King Steve and his reputation with women so you were honestly surprised that you had intimidated him. You actually kind of liked it if you were being honest.

“Just couldn’t get enough of me, huh,” you joked.

“No!” His eyes got even wider and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at how flustered he was. “I was just-“ he pointed to the men’s bathroom door.

“Relax, pretty boy,” you teased with a pat to his cheek. “I’m only joking.” You turned on your heel then headed back to the kitchen, not able to see Steve watching you walk away. After you were out of his sight, he entered the restroom.

You went back to check on your tables and approached Robin, who was finishing up her milkshake. You had thought about what Eddie had said about you needing new friends and decided to do something that was out of character.

“Do you have plans next Saturday?” You felt nervous asking that despite how long you had known Robin, but you had never hung out with her outside of the group, at least not like that. But you liked the idea of having a friend that was girl. You had never had one of those before.

“Except work, no. Why?” You didn’t want to answer her. There was something so vulnerable about asking someone to hang out and you hated being vulnerable. “Do you want to have a sleepover?” Her eyebrows furrowed at your question and you immediately wanted to take it back. It was unlike you to want to hang out with anyone outside of the group.

“A sleepover?” Robin could tell by your tone that it wasn’t going to be that kind of sleepover, so she agreed. She knew that you were bisexual, but you weren’t each other’s type. She liked girls who were more feminine and you were into girls who looked like you.

She also thought it would be a good idea to have a friend that was a girl. She needed more feminine energy in her life.

“Sure,” she nodded. “Sounds like fun.” You pulled your notepad out of your pocket and were actually kind of excited for the whole thing.

“What are we talking about,” Steve asked as he sat back in his side of the booth.

“I’m sleeping over at y/n’s on Saturday,” Robin told him and she could see his face falter.

“I thought we were going to finally watch that new horror movie on Saturday.” Robin had completely forgotten about that and now you felt bad that you were stealing her away from Steve.

“I totally forgot about that.” Steve looked over at you and even though you were trying really hard to hide it, he could see that you were disappointed and he didn’t want to be the reason for it.

“(Y/n), you like horror movies, right,” Robin asked, watching Steve out of the corner of her eye to see what his reaction would be to her next question.

“Love ‘em,” you answered and Steve couldn’t believe what Robin was doing. He thought he at least had some more time to prepare before she started her moves in setting the two of you up. And she wasn’t even being subtle about it. Robin was about as subtle as gun.

“You should watch the movie with us.” The old you would have come up with any excuse to say no, but this was the new you. And the new you made friends. And maybe if it went well, you could make it a regular thing.

“I’d love to.” This was going to be the year you finally did things that scared you. And that included getting close to people who weren’t Eddie.

“We’ll watch it at Steve’s since he’s got that giant TV.” Of course she was suggesting his house. Girls were always amazed about where he lived and Robin knew that. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Sounds good to me.” Steve couldn’t believe you had actually agreed. You had always denied their invitations to hang out with you and he’d be stupid to ask why you had changed your so suddenly. Whatever the reason, he was going to be grateful.

Eddie had watched the entire interaction play out and couldn’t help but be proud of you. He knew that you had been wanting to get close to Robin and Steve but had been too scared to make a move.

You brought Eddie his check and didn’t miss the smirk he had on his face. And this time he was looking at your face and not your breasts so clearly he had been up to something.

“Ugh,” you groaned. “What?”

“I saw you over there. You did so good, doll. I’m so proud. It’s my baby’s first non-sexual hangout,” he teased, grabbing your face and planting a messy-albeit gentle-kiss to it. You pushed him away in disgust.

“Ew. I hate when you get like this,” you rubbed your cheek with your hand, trying to get rid of the spit. Eddie just grinned at you.

“You didn’t hate it last night.” He winked and you felt yourself blush.

“Because that was in your bed, not in public. And you were more rough with it. You know I hate soft touches.” Eddie knew that fact all too well, all too familiar with hearing the words “harder” and “faster” coming from you in the bedroom.

“Oh, I know, sweetheart.“

“Whats going on? You’re being weird, even for you.” You gave him a glare but that only made him smile wider.

“I’m not weird, I’m just a proud daddy.” Hearing that word outside of dirty talk made your skin crawl.

“Gross,” you grimaced. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” he corrected.

“Sure, whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “Now pay your bill and get out.” Eddie always ended up lingering after he had already paid, wanting to spend more time there. It definitely beat staying in the trailer by himself while Wayne was at work. But you had to kick him out because your manager hated loitering.

“I love it when you’re bossy.” He left some cash on the table, making sure to give you a hefty tip and stood from the table.

Steve watched your interaction with Eddie and wanted to know if you were dating or not, but couldn’t get himself to ask. He didn’t want that information out in the open, unbeknownst to him that everyone was very well aware of his little crush on you. He wasn’t very good at hiding his jealousy and Eddie had even kicked his touches up a notch to get Steve to say something about how he felt about you, but he never did.

Robin and Steve finished their meals and you dropped off their check. You watched them walk out the door and turned to the table to some cash sitting under Robin’s empty cup so it wouldn’t blow away under the fans that had been running because of how hot it had been outside.

You headed over to their table and noticed that Steve had left a twenty dollar bill which meant that more than half had been for you. You wondered what it was like to be able to tip more than your meal had cost and not be struggling financially. You didn’t know what that was like because your family didn’t have the kind of money to even eat where you worked.

You headed outside for your smoke break as Steve’s red BMW pulled out of his parking space. You watched him pass by as you pulled your carton of cigarettes out of your apron pocket. The taste of the tobacco sounded so inviting and you just needed it to help with the chronic stress that sat on your shoulders every single day.

You went through your cluttered apron pockets to find your lighter only to grasp at crumpled receipts and empty straw wrappers. You had always put it in your apron before your shifts for that exact situation so you had wondered where it went. You tried to picture the last place you had it and suddenly remembered that you had left it at Eddie’s when you had smoked a joint together the night before.

As if he knew you were thinking about him, Eddie exited the diner, holding out a lighter to you. You took it from him and lit up, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke away from him so it wouldn’t get all in his face. You looked down the lighter and noticed your initials that you had engraved into the intricate design to signify it was yours.

“Thanks.” You fiddled with the thing in your hands, never able to stand still for so long. Whether it was the anxiety or the stress, you didn’t know.

“Sure,” he nodded. “That one’s yours anyway. You left it at my place last night and I figured I should give it back.” Eddie grabbed the cigarette from you, putting it between his own lips before taking a drag and handing it back to you.

“Well, thanks.” You wondered just how many lighters you had lost over the last few years after sleeping with someone only to never return to their place ever again. The only thing you had missed was your leather jacket that you had left at Billy Hargrove’s. You had politely asked for it back, but he only agreed to return it if you slept with him again and there was no way in hell that was going to happen. After he had made fun of Eddie? Fat chance. He could have the jacket for all you cared.

“Sure. I’ll see you tonight?” You didn’t know why he was asking. Of course you were going to see him. You were in his bedroom practically every night.

“Yeah,” you nodded, taking another drag before holding out the cigarette to him. He took it from you, his fingers brushing yours as he did so. This was so familiar to you, standing outside your place of work sharing a cigarette with your best friend. It seemed like it happened at least once every single one of your shifts. Most of the time neither of you uttered a single word, the only thing that could be heard was birds chirping or the sound of car doors slamming as people headed towards the restaurant. It was nice, one of your favorite things about working.

Eddie handed your cigarette back and fished around in his pocket for his keys. He pulled out his own cigarette carton, a couple guitar picks, and a few wadded up gum wrappers before finding what he was looking for. You wondered when he last washed his jeans, then remembered that you were the last one to do so when you took your stuff to the laundromat which had been a couple of weeks ago. You made a mental note to go back sometime in the week and take Eddie’s gross pants with you.

“See you tonight. Four, right?” That was always your plan when you were picking up extra shifts. Eddie would watch Callie while you were gone and then you’d go over to his after your shift while Wayne was still at work and you’d spend the night together, getting tangled up in Eddie’s sheets with a few smoke breaks in between. It was a perfect night in your opinion. You were able to get away from home for the night and you could forget about your shitty living situation at least for a little while. Until you began to worry about leaving your little sister alone with your parents.

Eddie was always able to help you when you started to panic. He’d take your hands in his and make you take some deep breaths to help you calm down. He’d then take you over to your own trailer to see Callie to make sure she was okay. She was always in your shared room, fast asleep in the bed that you were forced to share because your parents couldn’t afford another one.

Your parents were always fighting and it made Callie cry hearing them, so you’d do whatever what you could to distract her. Whether it was letting her listen to your walkman to block out the screams or just straight up taking her to Eddie’s, you’d find a way to shield her. No kid should have to be subjected to that or be on the receiving end of it like you had been a few times. That was why you always deemed any room that wasn’t yours off limits during those moments.

You wanted better for Callie. She was just a kid and didn’t deserve to live like that. You hated that she was growing up with the very same childhood you had experienced. You had hoped that your parents would have gotten their shit together before having another kid, but Callie had just been a product of them having makeup sex in the back of their shared beat up car.

Callie was way too young to be subjected to your parents’ toxic behavior. You, however had been used to it. Them hitting or yelling at you was something you just expected whenever you were home at the same time as them. They still hadn’t laid a finger on Callie out of anger and you vowed that if they ever had, you’d pack up all your stuff and go live with Eddie and Wayne. Wayne knew all about your living situation and had suggested you come live with him as soon as he found out about how your parents had been treating you and your sister, but you were just trying to hold out until you could get enough money to get the two of you the hell out of there.

———

You and Callie entered the trailer after you had picked her up from school and you let out a sigh of relief when you saw that your parents’ car wasn’t in its usual spot. You didn’t have it in you to deal with them. You were just so tired. You were scheduled for a shift at Family Video in an hour which only gave you enough time to make sure that Callie did her homework. Eddie would take care of the rest.

You showered and got dressed while Callie did her homework. That was the only way you were able to do anything for yourself. You had to do it while she was occupied, never truly getting an actual moment to yourself. She’d come into the bathroom while you were in the shower and ask you where you had put her favorite pencil. You hated that you got annoyed with her every now and then, but sometimes you wished you could have just five minutes of uninterrupted silence.

You came out of your room to find Callie eating the TV dinner you had fixed for her and Eddie was sitting next to her. They were both talking about the cartoon she had put on. It was one of the things they bonded over. Eddie really was just a kid at heart so it made sense why they got along so well. He didn’t have any siblings so Callie was the closest he was going to get. She had him wrapped around her little finger and she quickly found that he’d do anything she asked. Whether it was letting her braid his hair or have a tea party with him, it didn’t matter.

You loved watching their interactions. The way Eddie was so sweet to her, but talking to her in the tone that he used with everyone else. You wished that the people in town could see the way Eddie treated her so they’d stop insisting that he was an evil cult leader.

He had insisted on watching your sister even though you had assured him that you didn’t need his help. He noticed that you were always doing that; insisting that you didn’t need assistance when you were actually desperate for it. To you, asking for help meant that you were weak. You had gotten through your hardest times by yourself, so why would you admit that you needed help with the little things like finding a sitter for your sister?

“Alright,” you spoke up, standing at the back of the couch. “I’m leaving for work, so Eddie’s in charge.” Callie turned to face you, a pout on her face. As much as she loved spending time with Eddie, she always missed you when you were gone. You were her best friend. The one person who she was convinced could protect her from everything. Your parents screaming at each other, a bad dream, and the monsters that very much not under your bed. You both knew that they didn’t exist. She was just always looking for an excuse to cuddle closer to you, feeling the safest being wrapped in your arms.

Callie didn’t care if you didn’t give birth to her. In her eyes, you were her mother. You had gotten up in the night to feed her or change her diaper and you rocked her back to sleep when she stopped crying. You were there when she took her first steps, holding onto fingers until she was able to move by herself. You held her while she cried when kids were mean to her at school, telling her that they were losers and were just bored with their lives. You helped her ride your old bike without training wheels, cheering her on as she circled the little spot in front of your trailer. You had been there for every important moment in her life while she had just been an afterthought to your parents. Just another reason why they didn’t have any money and were stuck in that stupid trailer.

She gave you a long hug and you pressed a kiss to her forehead and told her to behave before you went out the front door to your car. You took a deep breath and turned on the ignition before heading out of the trailer park.

Working at Family Video was definitely your favorite out of your three jobs. The diner involved a lot of running around and working at the car repair shop was just answering phones and scheduling appointments since you didn’t have any actual experience fixing up cars. That one was very monotonous and boring doing the exact same thing every time. You liked Family Video because it was the perfect amount of work and you got along with the people you worked with. In your eyes, it was a win-win.

You put in the cassette tape that was a mix of your favorite metal songs you had made and turned the volume dial all the way up, singing along to the song. In your mind, if you had the music on really loud, it could drown out all of your thoughts so you had no choice but to get out of your head. Your brain was always working overtime with all of things you had to do. There was always another thing to add to your to do list or something else to worry about, so you tried your best to turn it off when you could.

You pulled into the parking lot and parked a little bit away from the building since Keith had gotten onto you multiple times for parking right up front. Despite not wanting to walk the few extra steps, you were too tired to argue with him. You grabbed your vest and headed into the building, finding Steve already at the counter, typing something into the computer. He turned to you when he heard the bell chime and gave you a small smile before turning back to his task.

You headed to the back room and clocked in before putting on the dreaded green vest. You wished Keith could have at least gotten vests that were a neutral color so it’d be easier to match to your outfits. Nothing went with green. You threw your purse into your locker and let out a sigh before going out onto the floor. The place was empty which was arguably worse than it being packed. If it was crowded, at least you would have something to do other than put videos away.

Steve was no longer at the counter, now putting returns back on the shelves. You rounded the counter and noticed his cart right by the romcom section. You pulled some tapes from the cart and began putting them away in their designated aisle, deciding that you were going to help him even though he always insisted that he didn’t need it. He knew of your other jobs and wanted this one to be a breeze for you. He thought you worked too hard.

Steve could hear shuffling and turned to his cart to see that some of the tapes were missing. He then looked over the aisles and saw you in the sci-fi section. You were reorganizing the tapes in alphabetical order. He noticed you doing that every time you had a shift together and wondered why it mattered to you so much when people were just going to mess it up again.

He watched you for a few more seconds then turned back to his own task. He spent too much time looking at you and really needed to cut it out. But you were just so pretty. He wanted to look at you any chance he got. He wanted to hold you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder as he pressed kisses your cheek just to hear your pretty laugh. He wanted to hold your hand whenever he could, feeling your soft skin against his. He wanted to kiss you. Goddamn did he want to kiss you. He wanted to know what your pretty lips tasted like. They were like two little pillows and he needed to know if they were as soft as they looked. He knew he was pathetic pining for you like that, but he didn’t care.

You were so mysterious and he wanted to know more about you. What you liked and what you didn’t. He wanted to know every single thing about you, hearing you go on and on for hours. He knew he wouldn’t get bored because everything about you was fascinating in his eyes. You could read out the diner menu to him and he would listen, hanging onto every word. He was in deep and he didn’t even care. He didn’t care if you didn’t if you didn’t feel the same way, he’d still eat up every interaction, every flirty word that would fall from your pretty lips.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you spoke up as you approached his cart once again. It was the only thing separating you two and he thought you were too far away. You grabbed onto the top of the cart and leaned forward, getting a little too close to him for his liking. He tried to keep his cool, but you smelled so good. If he had it his way, he’d have pulled you to him and buried his face into his neck to get a better whiff.

“Not much to say,” he shrugged and turned back to the shelf to hide the blush that was creeping up on his cheeks.

“You never shut up when you’re with Robin, but you’re quiet as a mouse when you’re around me.” He wanted to tell you that it was because you intimidated him and that he was afraid that he was going to say something stupid. He wanted to, but he didn’t. He just kept quiet and tried to not think about how beautiful you were.

“Just don’t have a lot to say,” he shrugged, putting some more tapes on the shelf in front of him. That was a lie. Steve had so much to say to you, but he didn’t think that any of it was appropriate.

He wanted to tell you just how pretty he thought you were while he thrusted into you. He wanted to feel your soft body against his. He wanted to hear you moan his name over and over again while he made sweet love to you.

He was always going on dates and sleeping with women, but it never really progressed after that. He’d promise to call them then throw their numbers away only to feel guilty in the end. He hated the cycle, but he was only doing what he thought he had to.

He was only trying to get over you and he thought the only way to do that was to get under someone else. But that never worked. You were the only girl he wanted and he couldn’t have you because you were taken. It was torture watching you with Eddie. The way you touched each other in such a flirty manner, whispering things into the other’s ear.

Steve wanted to be that with you. He wanted you two to have your own inside jokes. He wanted to have his arm around your waist and press tender kisses to your temple whenever he wanted. But he couldn’t. And it was killing him. He didn’t want to ruin your friendship, if you could’ve even called it that.

“Oh,” you nodded in understanding, even though he couldn’t see you. “I get it.” You pulled away from the cart, crossing your arms over your chest. “You don’t like me.”

You loved to mess with Steve more than you liked flirting with him. He fell for it every time, completely believing your words. You thought it was hilarious considering the fact that you hadn’t even been trying.

“No!” He turned around in panic, needing to assure you that it wasn’t true. He liked you, probably loved you even. “I like you.”

“You do?” You bat your eyelashes innocently and Steve stepped closer, trying not to fall for your tricks.

“Yeah. I mean, we’re friends, right?” The word was hard to get out. He hated using it when it came to you. It burned his throat the way bile did when it climbed its way up into his mouth. It tasted horrible and bitter like burnt toast.

The word caught you off guard. Eddie was the only one you had given that title to. And here Steve was using the word so casually, like it was part of his everyday vocabulary.

“Of course we’re friends, Steve.” Technically speaking, you were friends, but the two of you didn’t really hangout outside of the group like you did with Eddie.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hang out with Steve, it was that you couldn’t. You were unsure of where things would go with the two of you. Anytime you were alone, you felt the tension and you were afraid of the things the two of you would get up to. Hanging out always led to sex and sex always led to the “what are we?” talk and you couldn’t do that again. It was always so awkward letting people down.

“Good,” he nodded. “Good.” He rolled the cart to another aisle and you followed him. You watched him put more tapes away, admiring the way his jeans hugged his hips and the way his shirt was tight against his biceps. You could see why women liked him even if you weren’t interested. He was pretty and got along with everyone. What was there to not like?

“Yeah,” you nodded. “So what did you get up to last night?” You leaned onto the cart as Steve crouched to put some videos away on the lowest shelf.

“Oh, you know. The usual,” he shrugged, trying to move quickly because being in that position was painful.

“Which is?” You leaned closer, trying to read the look on his face. He stood up quickly, his legs not being able to take the pain anymore.

“Had a girl over.” He didn’t want to say more than that. He figured that you knew what had happened without him having to spell it out for you.

“Oh?” He didn’t have to say anything else, but you wondered how much he would tell you.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“How was it?” Bad. It was bad. So much so that he couldn’t even think about it without feeling embarrassed.

“Fine.” He was lying. He couldn’t tell you the truth. The truth being that he had tried to make out with the girl only to see your face and your pretty eyes boring into his. It happened every time and it was infuriating.

“Fine?” That was never the word you wanted to hear about a date. That was always meant that it went wrong but the person didn’t want to come out and say it.

“We just didn’t have that spark, you know?” You didn’t know what he meant by that so you wanted him to explain.

“Spark?” Your eyebrows furrowed and Steve liked that he was going to be able to explain something to you and not the other way around for once.

“You know, the spark.” You had no idea what he was talking about, but knew that it was some sort of thing that was only exclusive to Steve. He was too much of a romantic sometimes.

“No.” You didn’t seem to care but Steve was still going to tell you anyway.

“It’s when you get that feeling. You just know they’re the one.” His brown eyes softened as he looked at you and all you could do was let out a laugh. It all just seemed so silly.

“How do you know?” This was the real question. How did you know when you were in love with someone?

“It’s in your gut. It’s something that you just know.” Steve had never gotten that feeling, but knew it existed and he was just waiting for it to come around.

“Huh,” you pondered. “Sounds fake.” Love was just a bunch of bullshit to you. At least romantically. You loved Callie and you loved Eddie, but that was about it.

“You’re just too cynical to ever love anyone but yourself.” Both of you knew he wasn’t trying to offend you. He was just telling the truth.

“I love Callie,” you countered and Steve only shook his head. That didn’t count in his opinion.

“You’re supposed to love your sister.” You supposed that was true, but still felt like you were right.

“I also love Eddie.” He didn’t like hearing that, but he knew what you meant.

“It’s the same thing. He’s your best friend. You’re supposed to love him. I’m talking about romance.” You hated talking about that, even with Steve. Especially with Steve. Out of the four of you, Steve definitely seemed to be the one who always wanted to talk about love and it made you uncomfortable.

“Gross,” you grimace and Steve thought it was cute seeing your features scrunched up like that.

“It’s not gross, it’s beautiful,” he corrected, giving your shoulder a nudge. You just stepped away to keep space between your bodies.

“How can you think that when you’ve never been in love?” Steve had been in love. Only once and not for very long, but it still counted.

“I was in love with Nancy.” Right, Nancy. You don’t know her as well as you knew Robin, but just from the few interactions you had with her, she seemed nice enough.

“I mean besides Nancy. That was years ago and I haven’t heard you utter another girl’s name since I’ve known you.” He could think of multiple girls off of the top of his head that he had talked about. Well, with Robin. He felt weird talking about his dates with you.

“You’ve only known me for like six months.” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the shelf behind him. Steve didn’t think you had known him long enough to critique him.

“Yeah, and that’s been six months of jack shit, Harrington. If you want love so badly then you have to go on more than one date with a girl.” He never thought that you of all people would have given him actually good relationship advice. For someone who had never been in one, you really seemed to know what you were talking about.

“Maybe I will,” he shrugged. You both knew that he wouldn’t. He was just going to continue the cycle until he found someone.

“The girl for you is out there, Steve. You just have to look hard enough.” He was looking and the only woman that he wanted was right in front of him. He felt pathetic. He would never get you so he didn’t know why he even bothered.

“Like where? Because she’s definitely not in Hawkins. I think I’ve been out with every woman who’s interested in men in our age group.” He hadn’t been out with you, though. And he never would because you definitely weren’t interested. He thought it was better if you were just friends anyway. He liked what you two had and didn’t want to ruin it.

“Well,” you let out a sigh. “I guess you’re just destined to be alone.”

Steve wondered what made you so against love at such a young age. Usually the people who were that cynical were at least fifty years older than you. He figured it had something to do with your home life that you only mentioned a few times. You were very secretive.

Steve wasn’t going to listen to you. Love was out there and he was going to find it even if it wasn’t with you. Just because he hadn’t found someone yet didn’t mean that he was going to throw in the towel. He was going to at least give it another try before he fully gave up.

“No,” he pointed at you. “I am not stooping to your sad, cynical level.” He moved from the shelf and rounded the corner with a stack of videos and you followed him, the cart completely abandoned.

“Oh, c’mon, Steve.”

“I think maybe if you put yourself out there, you’d actually find that dating is fun,” he smiled and you gagged at his words. Pretty much anything sounded more appealing to you than that.

“You know what’s even more fun than dating,” you asked, your face lighting up and Steve was interested in what you had to say.

“What?”

“Hearing my parents yelling at each other while I hold my sister who’s sobbing. That’s more fun than dating.” He supposed he walked right into that one. He had never seen you talk nicely about anything except your sister and Eddie, but he was determined to find out what else you liked. He knew there had to be some sort of happiness deep down inside you.

“C’mon, y/n, you’re a pretty girl. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” That was a nice compliment, but it sounded generic, like it was something he’d say to just anyone. There was nothing that made it personal.

“Right, and I would be lucky just to get through this shift without you trying to convince me to put myself out there.” You took some of Steve’s tapes and put them away, wanting the conversation to be over. He only followed you, leaning against the shelf you were working on. He stared down at you, his eyebrows pinched together.

“Can you be serious for one second?”

“I am being serious, Steve,” you turned to face him. “You’re the one who’s being ridiculous.”

“I’m just trying to help you.”

“You call that help?” You let out a laugh. You didn’t think him pointing out your flaws was considered helpful. “If you really want to help me, then why don’t you actually help me?” You leaned onto the shelf as well, setting your arm onto the top of it to hold yourself up.

“How?” His eyebrows furrowed and you thought for a moment. The first thing that came to mind was actually ridiculous.

“I don’t know, go on a date with me or something.” Steve’s eyes widened at that, his mouth falling open slightly. He never thought he’d see the day. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe Hell had frozen over.

“What,” he scoffed. He didn’t believe you in the slightest. You had to be joking because there was no way you’d ever want to go on a date, especially not with him.

“It’ll be like practice.” Steve was quick to step forward and press his hand to your forehead. Your eyebrows furrowed at his actions, trying to figure out what he was up to.

“What are you doing,” you let out a laugh, pushing his hand away, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Oh, sorry. I thought you were sick,” he let out a sigh of relief as he pulled his hand away. “Because that would be the only reason why you’d ever go out with me.”

“Oh stop. You’re the only one who would actually be helpful.” He hated that you were right. He was the only one who’d be up for the task and do it right. “You’re King Steve, aren’t you? You clearly know what you’re doing since you always have a date.”

“Why not Eddie or Robin?” It wasn’t that Steve didn’t want to help you, but he didn’t think he could because then he’d want more and he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

“Eddie would just laugh the whole time and Robin would overthink everything.” Steve knew both of them well enough to know that what you had said was accurate. Eddie was too close to you to take going on a date with you seriously and Robin would take everything too seriously to the point that it would drive you crazy. Steve was your only option.

Steve supposed it wouldn’t be so bad. He’d get to go on a date with you and hadn’t that been what he had wanted all along? Who cared if it wasn’t real? At that point, Steve was just going to take what he could get.

It didn’t have to mean anything. It was just to help you out so you knew what a date was like without the nerves of being around a stranger. He’d just give you pointers. Tell you how to win people over enough to get their number and how to get to a second date after the first.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Let’s go out.” Your eyes widened at his agreement. You figured that he would have said no because it was weird or because he had better things to do.

“Oh-I was joking.” He thought it was odd to hear you stutter. You had always said things so matter-of-factly with your head held high. He could tell how nervous you were then.

“I wasn’t. So let’s go out.”

“Steve.”

“Yes?” A smirk played on his pink lips and now you could see why he always got whatever he wanted. Just one flash of that damn smile and women would give him whatever he asked. Well, it wasn’t going to work on you. You were better than them.

“Why are you agreeing?” He was doing a favor, getting absolutely nothing out of it, so what was his deal?

“Why are you asking?” He wanted to know why you were grilling him when the whole thing was your idea. Joke or not, Steve didn’t think that it was half bad. Maybe it could actually work.

“Because it’s a weird request.” Steve had done weirder things like fighting with multiple monsters from alternate dimensions, so going on a fake date with you would have been one of the less weird things he had done.

“It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve done. And I want to help you, y/n.” He would do anything for you, but he wasn’t going to tell you that. You weren’t quite at that point in your friendship.

“Well, great,” you smiled. “When did you want to start?”

Steve thought for a second even though he knew for a fact that his schedule was wide open. It always was. If he wasn’t at work or on a date or with Robin, he was at home by himself watching movies he’d seen a thousand times or laying in his bed staring at the ceiling, feeling sorry for himself even though he knew there were people out there with worse problems.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “You’re the one with the busy schedule so you tell me when you’re free.” It was nice that he was being so accommodating.

“Literally never. See, this is why I don’t date.” He could see you panicking and wanted to do whatever he could to help you calm you down.

“How about this weekend,” he suggested and realized that it was already Thursday.

“Isn’t that a bit early?” Maybe it was but he didn’t care.

“Not necessarily,” he shrugged again. He didn’t think it was. He was just eager to get started. He was really looking forward to going out with you.

“What are we going to do?” That was a good question and he figured he’d let you decide.

“What do you want to do?” He saw that nervous look and he was concerned that you were going to panic again.

“I don’t know.” Your life was full of making choices. Deciding what to buy at the grocery store. What to make for dinner. What you were going to wear every day. For once you didn’t want the decision to be up to you.

“Well, what do you like to do in your free time?” Steve just wanted to make the decision easier for you. In his head, it didn’t seem like a big deal, but he didn’t know what your life was like besides that you had a sister and that your parents fought.

“I don’t know. I don’t really have free time.” Of course you didn’t. He had heard you talk about your two other jobs and practically raising your littler sister. That was a lot for anyone to have on their plates, especially for someone as young as you.

“Right,” he nodded. He hated that you didn’t even have enough free time to even figure out what you enjoyed. It broke his heart.

“You pick. I promise I’ll like whatever you choose.” That seemed like a huge promise to Steve. He didn’t think you liked anything.

“Are you sure?” He titled his head to the side and you almost thought it was cute. Almost.

“Yes, please. Just pick.” Steve actually liked the idea of choosing for once. It seemed like he was told what to do all the time so having his own decision to make made him feel good.

“We can just hang at my house then. It’s private and it’s somewhere you can leave if you feel uncomfortable.” That sounded like a good idea to you. You didn’t like the idea of having Steve pay for your dinner. You could pay for yourself just fine.

“That works for me,” you nodded.

“I can make you dinner and we can just talk. It’ll be low stakes.” Oh god, now he really was going to spend money on you. Maybe you could let it slide just this once.

“You don’t have to do this,” you handed Steve another video to put on the shelf.

Of course Steve didn’t have to, but he wanted to. He just wanted to help you out. He didn’t care if he got anything in return. He would just be content spending time with you.

“I know I don’t,” he nodded, taking the tape from you. “But I want to.”

“What should I wear?” He didn’t like where his mind went with that question. He could imagine you in a pretty dress that would be thrown onto the floor of his bedroom while you placed yourself on top of him.

“Whatever you want. You could wear sweats for all I care.”

That made you feel better since you didn’t really have any nice clothes. The only “nice” outfits you owned were the two dresses that your mother had bought you. One was for funerals and the other for weddings and you didn’t think that either of those were appropriate. Maybe you’d ask Robin if you could borrow something.

“So I could wear my pajamas,” you joked and clearly Steve didn’t get it.

“Sure,” he nodded “Whatever you want. I could wear mine too if that would make you feel better.”

“We’re not wearing pajamas, Stevie,” you shook your head with a laugh.

“I know,” he laughed as well. “You’re overthinking it.” That much was true. You were overthinking everything these days and Steve could tell. “Seriously, wear whatever you want.”

“Okay.”

The topic was dropped and the two of you made awkward small talk the rest of the night in between customers. Despite not having not talked about your “date” for hours, it was the only thing on your mind. It had made you nervous and you wanted to just tell Steve to forget it, but you couldn’t. He just seemed so insistent on helping you and you weren’t going to take that opportunity away from him.

You had never thought of Steve as intimidating, but now you couldn’t help but feel nervous around him. You were going to see a side to him that you had never seen before and that scared you. What if it had made your friendship weird? What if the date sucked and he never wanted to speak to you again?

You went to Eddie’s after work and told him everything. Of course, he thought it was the funniest thing and couldn’t stop laughing. The idea of you and Steve going out tickled him. You didn’t even have anything in common. You liked all things scary while Steve jumped when a customer came into Family Video unannounced.

However, opposites did attract and Eddie knew just how much Steve liked you even though you couldn’t see it because you had been too focused on your own life. He thought Steve would be good for you. That he would balance you out.

“You gonna wear something hot?” Eddie asked, leaning back on his bed, putting his arms behind his head.

“I don’t have anything hot, Eddie,” you laid down next to him. “And this is just a practice date. It doesn’t mean anything.” Maybe it didn’t mean anything to you, but Eddie knew it meant the world to Steve even if the boy wouldn’t admit it.

“Right. You know, I’m kinda offended you didn’t ask me.” He turned over to face you, propping his head up with one of his hands.

“We both know why I didn’t ask you,” you raised an eyebrow. “We’re too close and you’d just laugh the whole time.” Eddie let out a laugh at that. You were absolutely right.

“Cmon, let me wine and dine you, baby,” he reached for your hand and you pulled it away.

“Fat chance, Munson,” you cackled. “We’re just not compatible.” Eddie knew that much, but when you were fucking, it was as if your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Maybe not romantically. But physically, we’re so made for each other.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Honey, I’m always right.” He grabbed your hands and pulled you on top of him. He flipped the two of you over, pressing his body to yours, sliding his legs between yours.

“Now give me some sugar.”

“Oh, you actually want to kiss me first? Is it a special occasion?” You teased.

“No, just need to taste your lips.” You pressed your lips to his roughly, tangling your hands into his hair. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, letting it swirl around yours before pulling away.

“No,” you whined. “I need you. Need your cock.”

“Sweetheart, you worked twelve hours today. I know you don’t have it in you.” Eddie was more than eager to fuck you, but he could see how tired you were and wasn’t going to through with it if you weren’t conscious enough to be enthusiastic about it.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “But you owe me.”

“I’ll give you two rounds tomorrow with no smoke breaks,” he pressed another kiss to your lips then pulled you into his arms.

“Deal,” you smiled, closing your eyes, feeling yourself drift off to sleep. Eddie pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting out a chuckle.

“What?” You pulled back to glare at him only making him laugh more.

“Still can’t believe you’re going out with Harrington,” he shook his head.

“Eddie, please just shut the fuck up and go to sleep,” you demanded and he was quick to close his eyes.

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded, resting his chin on top of your head. “Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight, Eds.” You snuggled into his chest and the two of you drifted off to sleep.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut

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kaegetsmewetter · 6 months

Text

( come press your lips ‘pon me! ) — nanami

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

inspired by | cyanide by daniel ceaser

featuring | fresh divorcee!nanami x blackfem!reader

synopsis | in which nanami is infatuated with the beverage cart girl at his country club.

word count | 928

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

the beverage girl. you know the one who drives around the golf course with ease? the one with the long, curly hair that’s styled in her signature afro or boho braids on occasion?

you still don’t know who i’m referring too? the one with the brown lip lined lips that would greet everyone with her perfect smile before she hops out of the cart to assist said customer? the one who wears the short skirts, giving every person a peek of what rests under that short pleated white skirt?

oh nanami knew exactly who you were talking about. how could he not? he’s become a more frequent member the moment he sees you around. it was something about you that was pulling at his heartstrings. freshly divorced, the man had loads of free time. throwing himself into work was becoming too much of a toll surprisingly, so he decided to take up golfing again. well, thanks to his colleague (and somewhat best friend) gojo telling him to check out the country club that was built only 3 years prior. nanami didn’t see himself as the type of man to fall into the country stereotype. yet here he was, polo crisp, linen bottoms pressed and his gaze lingering on the beverage cart that was a few holes away. where he watched you, miss y/n. he has yet to interact with you, shying way every chance you got close. he couldn’t understand why, acting as if he was in high school again, but it was something about you that had his heart thumping. maybe it was your skin. it reminded him of a dark expresso, so smooth and rich. or maybe it was your hair? so curly and kinky and it floated? he couldn’t describe. or your sweet sweet smile. he has heard your voice from miles away, but he could only imagine how it sounded up close and personal.

“i think you should go speak instead of ogling at the girl, nanamin.” gojo teased, balancing his weight on the golf club as he stared at his friend.

nanami could only scoff as he glanced over at the white haired man. despite seeing his eyes, nanami just knew those blue eyes were staring holes into him with competition. just like nanami, gojo obviously saw you around and admired your beauty from afar. but out of respect for his friend, he had held back on making approaches.

“okay, how about this. if you don’t make a move today, i’ll take her off your hands. since you clearly don’t know what to do with that.” the man challenged, which only made nanami tighten the grip on his own club before pushing said club into his cart, “no need, it’s handled.”

his reaction was juvenile, sure, fighting over this girl as if she was some doll, but she was in a way. and the last thing nanami wanted to do was share you with gojo. taking long strides across the course, he was met with your cart. there you were in your glory, assisting another member with that beauty smile gracing your face. oh how you had his heart racing.

finishing off the current tab of the man before you, you ripped the slipped and punctured it through the sharp needle before turning to the next one, only to slightly pause as you took in the sight of the man before you.

you’ve seen him around plenty of times, from his well kept blonde locs always formed into a nice side part, neat yet boyish at the same time. his warm, brown eyes that were like melted chocolate in the hand of a child. a very handsome man.

“how may i help you today, sir?” you asked, fluttered your lashed eyes as you stared up at him.

oh you’re voice was like honey. and he could pick out the slight infliction of southern influence. you were adorable.

“i…um..i..” he stammered, clearing his throat as he glanced over at gojo who was watching the whole

thing play out. he could practically see the shit eating grin that painted his face despite the distance. “i didn’t want to come waste your time..i just wanted to see if i could take you out sometime? i think you’re a very beautiful woman and would lover to get to know you.” he expressed as suavely as possible but his nerves was getting him bad.

“oh you are so cute,” you said with a soft smile as you jotted your number down onto the sheet, “but before i give you this, what’s your name, handsome?”

oh how could he forget his name? he didn’t ask you his name? he was a complete mess but happy that you even said yes nonetheless.

“i’m kento, and you are?” he asked, taking your hand in your larger one as a thumb rubbed against your thumb, “y/n.” you smiled, only making him melt into your touch much more, “very pretty.”

ripping the slip, you folded it up in your free hand and slid it into his pants pocket, your deep brown eyes watching him, “don’t waste it, okay?”

how could he? he’s been waiting to do this but the look in your eyes just had him ready to prance on you right now, he could careless about the bystanders, “i won’t, i promise.”

“good.”

taking that as your exit, tou swiftly hopped into the cart, blessing him with one more smile before driving through the course, leaving him in his thoughts.

you were gonna be the death of him.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

sticky star from kae: i hope y’all like this just something cute and quick!! but y’all should definitely slid in my inbox, i wanna interact with y’all fr! and if y’all have any request or anything i’m open to that as well! but besides that, i appreciated the support so much, mwahhh 💋

#KAESTAR’S PEN 🖊️#nanami kento #nanami kento x black reader #jjk x black reader #jujutsu kaisen

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lunarw0rks · 10 months

Note

hi hiii, I hope ur having a good day<3 I'm rewatching 365 days rn and I was wondering if you could do 141 + graves and Alejandro watching it with us? nsfw would be amazing but it's completely up to you, this is really random im sorry 😭 i just thought of it out of nowhere, and no rush ofc<3

Have a nice day/night/afternoon<3

A/N: If you can't tell I hate this movie. I fell asleep not even halfway through when I watched it. BUT IT'S AN ENTERTAINING REQUEST, SO ENJOY<3

Summary: How they would react to watching 365 Days with you.

Warning(s): suggestive content/language (18+), established relationship, GN!Reader, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.5k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.

365 Days | 141 Headcanons (+ Ale/Graves)

Price

As much as he loved movie nights with you, sometimes he had to join late. Though you insisted that you would wait on him to start it, that you wanted to start from the beginning—he put his foot down. He can come back, halfway through the movie, guess what’s going on, and still enjoy it with you, right? At least, that was his logic.

Tonight was playing out like usual; dinner finished, and he had some paperwork that needed tending to first. So, you’re sat on the sofa, already several minutes through this… questionable movie. Why you had chosen it, you weren’t sure, but it was something to keep you entertained.

He strolled into the living room, a heavy groan when he was finally able to relax. ❝What are you watching, Sweetheart?❞ John’s arm found its way to the back of the couch, a not-so-subtle way to wrap his arm around you. ❝Oh, they’re on a boat. Is this some sort of adventure—❞

❝Oh.❞

As good as he was at keeping his composure, the sudden cut to the explicit boat scene, stunned him to near silence. It was quite humorous, the mortified look on his face as you sat there watching it nonchalantly. But the scene continued, cut-to-cut, at least two minutes of the smutty montage.

❝Are you trying to tell me something?❞ He asks with a stern look, dripping with playfulness, though he found the movie downright unrealistic and cringe-worthy; not at all how he views romance or sex. He’d kidnapped her, tried to make her infatuated, seduced her… he found it downright strange. It definitely didn’t get him in the mood, he spent most of it with a look of contempt on his face—unless he was staring at you.

Simon

He would always let you pick the movies, no matter what. There was no arguing, no bickering over action v. romance, he truly didn’t mind. Movie night often started with Simon silently handing you the remote, eyes glaring until you give up on being polite and just pick the damn film.

You clicked on the Netflix icon, scrolling through the array of films you two hadn’t watched yet. Finally, you hovered over an… interesting choice. One you had seen talked about across social media since its release. Surely, it’ll at least be amusing, right? Even if it's awful?

❝Looks stupid.❞ The intro to the film began to play, his broodiness ever-persistent. But you could take what he dished out because no matter how tough he acted, he cherished evenings like these—no matter what you picked to watch. Throughout the film, he maintained that same stillness he always did; legs spread with one hand in his lap, the other draped over the back of the couch, even during the most heated of scenes.

There were plenty of those, for sure. ❝Can’t believe I’m watchin’ this shit…❞ He grumbled, but was he going to shut it off? Nope. The longer it played, your flushed expression would amuse him—whether it was because you were embarrassed by all the explicit scenes, or because the movie was simply p^rn with little plot. Either way, he spent more time with his eyes on you than the screen. If he did feel himself start getting heated, he’s not going to outright ask, either. He’d rather suffer for an hour and a half, and tease you about the film choice, something might happen ;)

Soap

It wasn’t that you were hiding the fact that you picked this movie, but you didn’t exactly want it to be one you watched together. Your fingers were practically crossed under the blanket, hoping he would at least walk in during one of the semi-normal scenes.

His voice startled you because he had come in so suddenly, and of course during one of the many explicit scenes the movie was littered with. ❝Steamin’ Jesus, bonnie, if you wanted to watch p^rn I could’ve sent you some.❞ His arms crossed over his chest as he watched the screen, but his look was one of awe. Why the hell were you watching this? But most of all, why was he standing here doing the same? You had no doubts about what he said, either. He probably would if you were desperate enough, and it wasn’t exactly a secret how much of a dirty mind he had.

His weight settled on the couch next to you, in the typical cuddling position he put you in during movie night; forcing your head into his lap or against his heart. To this day you’re convinced he only does this so you’ll play with his hair if you were being honest. ❝Didn’t know you liked movies like this…❞ Soap was only trying to be casual, to act nonchalant about what was on screen. But, his mind did wander—doing what he always did when he watched things like that; imagining you in it.

(Let’s just say… he had to do that thing where guys readjust themselves, shifting their hips against the cushion…)

Gaz

Strangely enough, he probably saw the memes about it and decided to give it a try on movie night. So, he got all the favorite snacks, drinks, and most of all you—huddled next to him under layers of blankets. He was expecting something like Fifty Shades—how the both of you spent the entire time cracking jokes and giggling at the outlandish nature of it—or at least, he did. This movie made Fifty Shades look like nothing.

He flashed a side-eye, one to see your expression during such a movie. Explicit scenes; whatever. But this? It was… unsavory for him.

If you wanted to finish it, so be it, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be there. Gaz just found sex scenes like this (overly aggressive/no plot-driving ones) obnoxious. “You sure you want to finish this, babe? I’d rather watch Gray Shades, or whatever the hell it was called, again.” He sounded uncomfortable as if he was watching the scene with his parents looking over his shoulder.

But then again, some of the acting was like a car wreck—so horrific you couldn’t tear your eyes from it. ❝I could beat his ass.❞ Gaz eventually resorted to fierce disdain for the male protagonist about halfway through the film, sizing him up through the screen. Partially to make you laugh, partially because he disliked the character so much, and the film itself. It was humorous for you to watch, to say the least.

Alejandro

Alejandro wouldn’t have chosen the movie. He prefers older movies, nostalgic films, and classic romance movies with plots, not… that. But you wanted to watch it, so he gave it a shot. All else fails, he’ll fall asleep beside you until it’s over, and then get to pick something better once the credits roll.

That’s exactly what happened; him snoring beside you from sheer boredom. Unbeknownst to him, he’d fallen asleep before any of the action happened, so he was in for a literally rude awakening. An awakening you were itching for, to say the least. His head perked up, eyes adjusting to the light from the screen. As usual, he had to wake up from his power nap at the absolute worst moment.

❝They’ve been going this whole time, Mi Amor?❞ Alejandro groans, brows in their natural state—furrowed and focused.

Though it's unfortunate that he wasn’t wrong. The scenes were one after the other, and they barely held weight with the plot. You expected him to be more grumbly about it, hell, even judgmental towards the male character’s form or something. But he merely snickered, eyes turning to yours, ❝I’m nicer to you than that, que no?❞ He says while the female protagonist is being intimidated by her captor, unrealistically aroused while it’s happening. He was, managing to both satisfy you and keep you on your toes simultaneously.

Graves

Graves doesn’t watch movies with you often, both because of his workload, and because he doesn’t sit still long enough to do so. He spends most of his time standing behind the sofa, making snide comments towards something that’s inaccurate in the film, or what a character should’ve done. Tonight, he hadn’t been seen at all, despite knowing you were watching something.

You expected it when you read the description of the movie, it’s sexual nature. You knew he would stroll into the living room at the absolute worst moment. That’s exactly what happened, and it made your eyes roll the second you heard the small chuckle from behind your head. ❝Christ, Sweetheart, you could’ve just asked.❞ Indeed, he had his arms folded across his chest, lips formed into a slight smirk when you turned your head. His smugness was like a parasite—latched and hard to get rid of.

Graves was surprisingly quiet in the moments following, watching the movie in a nonchalant stance. By the shake of his head, you could tell he was going to begin his routine of constant commentary, constant knit-picking. ❝She supposed to be a captive, or somethin’? Should’ve gone that way instead. Now look at her.❞ A smug sneer returned when he sensed your embarrassment as he commented on the explicit scene playing out. It was entertaining for him, to say the least—and it wouldn't be the last you’d hear of it, surely.

#mw2 #mw2 fanfic #call of duty #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #simon riley #ghost mw2 #alejandro vargas #captain john price #john price #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #soap mctavish #philip graves #phillip graves

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apatura-ires · 1 year

Text

Listen. I am not a Souvieshu fan, but I am a Souvieshu truther, in the sense that I hate how people misinterpret his character. People in this fandom seem to genuinely think Souvieshu is a guy who will chase any pretty woman, or that he’s a creep who specifically wants women who are childish, and easy to control, but like. Neither of these are true? (Souvieshu is still absolutely a creepy weirdo but like. In a different way. I’m sick of fans using the word pedophilic to describe Souvieshu, because it’s not even fucking correct in application to him, even when used as a short hand for when someone likes childish, sheltered and innocent people. Like this is a side note but you people have got to stop throwing that fucking word around.)

Souvieshu doesn’t want just any pretty woman. He specifically has only ever, truthfully and genuinely loved Navier, even if that love has become warped, and that’s a fact. Rashta is his side piece, yes, but it’s clear that Rashta is just some girl that he’s infatuated with, to fulfill his emotional needs, and eventually, for his political ones as well. He was never in love with her. It’s always been obvious that Souvieshu craved Navier’s affection, and that he has been wanting to try and not only make her happy, but rekindle their bond.

Please take note that:

1. Souvieshu knows Navier puts on a mask for people. These two used to be super close, and that likely carried on a bit into their marriage. But eventually, Navier starts putting up walls, and eventually, she starts doing it to him. There could be plenty of reasons for this, but it doesn’t matter, because they both seemed to have mutually drifted apart. Souvieshu is shown actively trying to get past her facade, although, he does so poorly, because he comes at her with a sense of entitlement most of the time.

2. Souvieshu likes Rashta, because Rashta gives him what he craves from Navier; which is to say, Rashta gives him affection, is expressive, has easygoing and light hearted conversations with him, and is able to speak honestly with him. Things that he and Navier used to be able to do with one another. His literal first observation of Rashta, is that she’s easily pleased and excited over small things, which is directly paralleled to a later chapter, where Souvieshu and Navier dine together on her birthday. Souvieshu asks Navier to smile, to which, she complies and gives him a fake one, and Souvieshu then asks her to be sincere about it. Navier makes a comment about needing to be actually happy to do that, so Souvieshu tries to make her happy by giving her a gift. This doesn’t go well with Navier, and like most of their arguments, Souvieshu ends up wishing that Navier could just be more expressive in a sincere, non-petty manner. He is always asking Navier to drop her mask with him. With Rashta, Souvieshu didn’t initially have to dig past a mask to know how she felt. Souvieshu liked her honesty and openness, and while he considered her innocence and childish nature part of her charm, it’s also implied that those traits are traits he could only handle when he was in the mood for it. It’s not actually something he likes, and we see further along the story that her childishness begins to grate on him. Furthermore, there’s a point in the story where he becomes sick, and he mentions that Rashta is not a calming presence, but Navier is.

3. This is the big one (and also me just making observations and assumptions), but both Souvieshu and Navier didn’t know that they loved each other. This is a big one for Souvieshu specifically, because he never assumed that Navier loved him, the way he loved her. I’m sure that’s probably one of the big reasons why he took Rashta in as his consort— and it’s because he sincerely thought Navier wouldn’t care beyond it being a possible image issue, and he genuinely thought that it wouldn’t hurt her. It’s actually Navier who is frequently bringing up that their marriage is one of convenience in her inner monologues— although I don’t doubt that she’s actually brought it up before as well, which probably wouldn’t help his assumptions that Navier wouldn’t be hurt if he brought a consort in.

Do you know why, it’s so upsetting to see Souvieshu mischaracterized? It’s because (outside of how people just slap on whatever term they think is fitting of him) Souvieshu’s side of the story is just as important as Navier’s when it comes to the intensity of the tragedy, that is their lost friendship and love. The gut wrenching heartbreak here, isn’t just from Navier being effectively cheated on, but it’s the fact that they both loved each other, and that all of this heartbreak could have been avoided if they both sincerely talked to each other without any hidden motives. Souvieshu didn’t seem like a bad guy before he took Rashta as his consort. As a matter of fact, I’m fairly certain that if Navier and Souvieshu had patched their relationship, and even confessed to one another, that Souvieshu would have brought Rashta in as a servant—possibly even asking Navier to make her a lady in waiting. Souvieshu wouldn’t have been so emotionally deprived to want Rashta, Navier wouldn’t have had reasons (that she couldn’t get past) to hate Rashta, and Rashta wouldn’t have had a reason to hate Navier.

And to be clear and reiterate, I do not like Souvieshu as a person. He’s a possessive, hypocritical freak, who didn’t take the time to actually get to know Navier again, and was almost always the instigator in their arguments. His love for Navier has warped and changed, and even if it’s ‘genuine’ in the sense that he sincerely loves her, it’s still not healthy. I am not an apologist, I just think he’s an interesting character. His character being misinterpreted, dilutes the tragedy of his relationship with Navier, full stop, and that is what frustrates me.

#the remarried empress #souvieshu #navier trovi #rashta #tw pedophila mention

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kalegrinch · 5 months

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⭐️Sunshine⭐️

Rocky Rickaby x Gn Reader

2k~ words

I’m not normally one to publish fanfiction, but I figured I’d share some to feed my growing infatuation for Rocky. If you like this, don’t be afraid of leaving a request of any sort. Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated. This fic is really reader’s-internal-emotional-constipation heavy (with a side of Rocky), so read at your own risk.

SUMMARY: You meet Rocky in a cold alleyway on a rainy day. What could he possibly want at this time of night?

WARNINGS: None, except for the incessant use of the pronoun he and parentheses-notes (I promise I did those two things for important reasons)

==========

Maybe it was the way in which the cold rain fell from the dark and misty night sky, drenching you completely and you wadded around. Maybe it was how it cascaded down your face like a river, like water running downstream. Maybe it was the way the lullaby yellow color from the odd street lanterns reflected on the gray cobblestone of the streets of St. Louis, casting dark shadows in every direction imaginable. Maybe it was the cold wind whipping past you and flicking your tail back and forth, only stopping to seep solemnly into the fur of your body, hidden away in a jacket you stole from a generic store long ago. Or, most likely, it could've been him. The sole being that could wake you on a night like this. Him, standing peacefully with his back turned to you, always moving and fidgeting and humming along to any new tune he creates spontaneously with the flick of his whiskers and the tap of his shoe. Him, perfectly unaware of your presence.

He’s waiting for me. Even the thought of something so preposterous chilled you to the marrow, but you didn't understand why. When Mitzi told you he wanted to meet you here earlier in the speakeasy, you had plenty of time (A little less than 42 hours) to prepare (Mentally) for him. When and why had it all- everything from his random ramblings to the toothy grin to the syrup-coated language- suddenly become too much? When had it suddenly made you feel differently? Now you look forward to seeing him every day and participating in those stupid antics with him. It’s getting to the point where he’s one of the only things that pushes you forward to face every waking hour you have to endure on this planet. When did it get to that? And why?

You didn't dare let yourself think about (let alone believe in) anything more than platonic feelings. There should be nothing more than platonic feelings between the two of you. Nothing.

But why did that feel so wrong?

St. Louis isn't known for its hills, but this one that led up to this particular spot meant a lot to you. This particular spot, where the sun would always come up in the morning and where no one was curious enough to venture. Almost hanging on the horizon, it always spreads its glorious, haunting light across the acres of water that was the Mississippi River. You would often come to this cliff with him, always sitting on the very edge of the thick, stone railing that tried its best to prevent accidents with the shallow water far below, waffling with him till your throats were sore. And then some more, for good measure. It had become a tradition, to spend early mornings here with him. And you made sure it happened enough, enough to nourish this newfound infatuation for him that you regret admitting even to yourself. Everything on the other end, across that ambiguous, murky sea, was blurry and insignificant, mere blobs of floating rock and bridges you could never cross. Sometimes, when you stared hard enough at the sight, you felt rather insignificant yourself. The thoughts would come running, coating you in the solution of your own despair and agony. Leaving you alone in the dark and endless tunnels of panic and fear, the one of your own creation. But then you'd turn around to your companion by your side, the one bathed in the sun’s orange light that never stopped the goofy yackety-yak and heartfelt, serious conversations with you, and for a couple of minutes the weight would be lifted and the world wouldn't feel as colossal, as cruel as it always did. The world was starting to feel more worth approaching with every day that passed, as long as you could approach it with him. Now, your quiet footsteps echoed out in the dim and suffocating alleyway, a backdrop for his bard as you approached the incoming balcony that, after a long drop, gave way for the river. When you were close enough, you could see his relaxed shoulders, the rain dripping from his hat, and the way he leaned on the nearby brick wall for support right at the opening of the cleft where the two compact buildings ended. Although he was turned around, you could clearly picture his eased expression and considering eyes, scanning the river that was constantly being struck by the rain, mishaping the reflection of the bright, full moon from far above. He was always more subdued here, more calm, as if he felt sufficiently safe enough around you to let his guard down for you (It took plenty of coaxing for him to reach that state, of course) His voice rang into the night sky, only weighed down by the abundance of droplets that made you regret the fact that you did you hair this morning (for him):

A lover of choices more inconspicuous than ambivalent

She walks along penetrated pathways, all apathetic and innocent

The feeling’s initial, official, more vivid and free

Better than the perspicacious preacher of the land and sea

You’d never heard it before. It must have been new.

“Hey there sunshine,” Your surprisingly hesitant voice broke through the silence, “What’s that one about?”

He immediately turned around to face you, just as he always did in response to any of the teasing nickname you decided to use at all given moments. Sunshine had become one of your favorites, as it always earned you a warm smile and tail swish. Now there was a surprised grin plastered across his face, and you had to take your time to observe his pretty features.

Pretty? Where did that come from?

The icy blue eyes that always impeded any train of thought and seized your breath. The expressive eyebrows, imperfect blue suit...the blatant bullet hole in his sharp ears you've always wanted touch. All at once, you had an infatuating urge to run forward and encompass him in a hug as an apology.

Snap out of it, idiot

You had created a seven-inch glass wall between the two of you for your sake. To maintain sanity. And maybe dignity, too. But there was a look of need present on his face, like his want for its demolishment exceeded your comprehension.

“Ah, M’lady! What a pleasure, encountering you today! I was thinking-”

“Cut the dramatics, sweetheart. It's pouring out here. Unless you're planning to take me back to your place, I suggest you get on with it.”

The evident flirting was normal now (You assumed) but it still managed to catch the both of you off guard. It didn’t feel appropriate, this late at night, only reciprocated with the song of rain. Unpunctual nights alone in your drab apartment made you wonder if it meant anything. To him. And maybe to you, too. Nevertheless, it was expected of you. It was a part of your “personality.” It was your thing, your thing around him now.

Still, he smiled, “I wanted to… um…discuss the incident from mere days ago...”

You promptly recalled what he was talking about. A couple of days ago, you had a small argument in the speakeasy, resulting in you storming away from the situation before it escalated. Something about your safety. Ever since your first encounter (The one you’d like to forget but he always teased you about) the two of you followed each other everywhere. You practically had your own language, for whenever the two of you were at it with an easy-going squabble, heads would turn and concerned looks were spread.

I’m pretty confident the nature of pickles do not require an extended thesis, sunshine

But they do, love, they do! Think about it: The earth is a pickled fruit of the universe, just as pickles are the pickled fruit of the earth!

…Pickles are fruits?

Following him constantly resulted in figuring out about the whole rum-running gig sooner than expected, and after a plethora of begging, he let you come with him on those dangerous, late-night expeditions. It had become a trend, and you had more or less ditched journaling and had become an asset for the Lackadaisy. It wasn’t very profitable, but spending time with him was worth everything you had to give. And after a particularly wild quest, he asked you to stop aiding him in those misadventures so you wouldn’t get hurt, and the spat ensued. And you ran away. And you haven't seen him in three days, whether it's out of pure embarrassment or fear. Ah, great. Now you were spiraling into if he cares enough about me to fight me for my safety… then that means something, right? You couldn’t stroll into this dangerous territory of believing blindly. Not again.

“Well,” You took a breath and faced him again, mustering a look of defiance, “I don't want to”

“I'm not going to pester you with that topic, love,” He chose his words carefully, speaking slowly like you’ve never heard before, all while maintaining eye contact, “Not today. I just wanted to see you again. I’ve missed you, to be frank” He made a weird face, a mix between apologies you did not require and come to me, please.

The honest commission left you with your mouth agape and took all of the previous guilt and regret away, leaving you with a horrible feeling of loneliness. Sure, you’d expected it for you yourself felt empty without him recently, too. But verbal confessions were different than made-up acknowledgement. It was as if you had just now processed the days you spent without him, and while a meager three days to the average person, enough to make you start towards him with your arms spread wide, actions tainted with regret. The invisible seven-inch glass wall vanished beneath the desire of him.

You hadn't spared a glance at the look on his face before you collided with him, arms enveloping and causing him to take a few steps backward, trying to regain his composure. It wasn't long before he reciprocated the hug and the two of you were locked in a warm, supposedly never-ending embrace.

The side of your face hung close to the fluff of his chest, and for a few quiet moments, you heard his shallow breathing and heart beating. When you felt his resting head on yours, you brought your tail towards his fluffy one hesitantly, merely tapping the tip of his tail in question. The question was answered as if there was not time to spare and they entwined, a reassuring feeling you’ve never really felt before. A feeling of thank you. Thank you for staying. It was the type of happiness, fondness and fulfillment that captured who whole being and seized your heart, stoping it in this moment of time. This moment of time, with his arms wrapped around your back, his body shielding you from the cold, cold rain. This moment of time, where the forbidden three words were stuck at the edge of your tongue.

Those words were forbidden for a reason, so instead you tried to express yourself in, “God, I’ve missed you too”

It was a soft murmur, accompanied by you pulling your head away from his chest and resting it against his forehead without a glance at his expression for fear of what you would find. You made it fast, you made the motions quick. The big feelings were swallowing you whole and it made you act out of reason. For a couple of seconds, the two of you breathed the same air and felt the same things. His fur touching yours, his paws on your back. You could hear a sharp inhale from him with the touch, but it soon returned to a slow inhale and exhale and his whiskers tickling yours. The low temperature of the cloudy night was long forgotten, now it was just you and him in this debarred show of affection. It was peaceful. It was quiet, giving a movement for the pattering rain to continue singing.

But he spoke anyway, cutting the sweet melody short. Drawing his head back slightly, he averted his gaze from yours, as if what he was about to say was very important to him,“I started wondering-actually-” He cleared his throat, the nerves catching up, “Um... over the past couple of days- If you, um- if you trouble yourself... with the thought of me... like I do... with you” His head faced you once more with a tentative yet adorable look. He was absolutely petrified from this new whatever you were. He was petrified… but you knew, whether it was fact, your intuition, or just simple stupidity, that he craved this new whatever just as much as you did.

But this was weird, you had to admit. His stuttering was weird (He’s never stuttering). This level of touch was weird (The two of you were accustomed to that sort of thing, but not like this). The feeling you felt in the pit of your stomach, the growing feeling was weird. You resented labeling it, whatever it was.

You resented labeling it. Always did, always would. Because once you confirmed to yourself what you felt was real, the chance of making it out alive would deplete exponentially. Because he would leave, like they always did. And if he left now- you’d barely be able to scrape by. So you didn't want to imagine what that would be like after you admitted everything.

But, for once, when you pulled away, there was a new measure of fondness that overtook everything you held close, every rule you’ve ever written for yourself. Because when you pulled away and stared into those blue, thinking and questioning and beautiful eyes, and when you reached up and ran a gentle finger over the conspicuous hole in his ear (despite your better judgment) and when he gasped lightly, his mouth agape and as he continued that observing and questioning stare (With something else mingling underneath, if you dared to dream)... nothing was holding you back. It could be the death of something precious, but as long as you could show him you cared, the needed actions were important and required.

So before you could spiral into another abyss of hurt and regret and rules written in sand, you reached up onto your toes and closed your eyes, still enveloped in a warm embrace that challenged the night itself. You somehow got closer to him, with the smell of syrup and rain coalescing your senses, and your whiskers locked together as you brushed your lips against his. With extreme care, you took the lead in navigating this newfound warmth. For a couple of seconds, you just stood there as your current post short-circuit predicament was brought forth into conscious realization and you started regretting everything that brought you to this point, to this kiss. The confidence was melting away and you were about to pull back, but that was the exact moment you felt him return it with the zeal of a starving man.

For what felt like hours, the two of you stood in the pelting rain and nipping wind and the glow of the bright moon and odd yellow street lights. For what felt like hours, you were free of the problems that veiled you in life and haunted you in dreams. For what felt like hours, you let yourself feel love.

But all good things came to an end, and you were running out of breath. When you pulled away and opened your eyes, you got to witness something not many get to see. His eyes were closed for the first few seconds, but when they opened again you could see the blown pupils and awestruck expression on his face, the parted, gasping mouth, and the shallow breaths and the completely ruffled exterior, with all that thinking and commotion going on inside displayed perfectly for view. Something you didn't know you needed.

When he got himself together again, you were patiently waiting (As you always were). The yellow of the lamps lit up his face, his astonished expression evident as for once he was lost for words.

“I-I… you-”

“I’ll see you again tomorrow, hm?” You let your voice become a whisper to reflect the rain that continued to patter on the stone ground, “Can't wait to see a drunk Freckle. I wonder what he’s gonna do when Ivy kisses him” Back to the persona. Back with the personality.

Before the innate desire to stay with him caught up with you, you sent him a quick peck on the cheek and snapped around without much thought, back towards where you came from. Your tail swished against his leg as you walked away as a last form of good-bye, and before you turned the corner you threw a quick glance at him, the want controlling the rational part of your brain that demanded a dramatic exit.

Cradling his cheek with his hand, his mouth was agape (as it seemed to be quite often recently) and his pretty gaze was trained on you from across the alley. When he registered your eyes on him, he did a slight double take and straightened himself up even though that did absolutely nothing as he still looked as frazzled as before. So very adorable. So very yours. Through the rain, you decidedly sent him a quick wink and walked away. Keeping face, and all.

And for the first time in a while as you trenched back to that dingy apartment you’ve started to identify as home, you wondered if the ability to love still thrived inside you. Truly love, not the acting you displayed constantly to satisfy the seemingly infinite void of fear woven into the fabric of your being like an abandon tapestry left to collect dust. You’d have to give love another shot and tend to it, though. As your dad used to say, miracles don't come by often, and only an idiot lets one slip by. Rocky sure felt like a miracle.

#rocky rickaby #lackadaisy #rocky x reader #request stuff if you’d like #let me know if you enjoyed it #freckle lackadaisy #lackadaisy x reader #Fluff #mutual pining #lackadaisy rocky x reader #Sunshine #Nicknames #Rocky Rickaby x reader #roark rickaby #Roark Rickaby x reader #lackadaisy imagines #lackadaisy imagine

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wisteria-cherry · 7 months

Text

in which everyone thinks you and sirius are dating

“you guys are such a cute couple.” sighs marlene as she watches you pick out the nasty bits of your stew and put them carefully on sirius’ plate. in turn, sirius makes sure to pass you your favorite pastry, which was just out of your reach.

“we aren’t a couple, mar.” you look up from your stew to reply. marlene blinks in surprise.

“wait, you aren’t?” she asks suspiciously, almost as though she didn’t believe you. she looked to sirius.

“we might as well be, hm?” sirius grinned at you, his face quite invading your personal space.

“we aren’t a couple,” you repeat, shoving his head away with an eye roll and a smile.

“you’re no fun.”

“okay.” you agree, then promptly go to take back the stew bits.

“oi!” sirius protested. “i take it back, geez!” you raise an eyebrow as you lift your fork up, giving him access to the little tidbits of food again. it was such a curious part of sirius— he could easily get more stew, but he insisted on taking your handouts.

“so you guys really aren’t a couple?” marlene leaned closer. “but the entire school thinks it. you lot are practically glued together.”

“we aren’t glued together. he’s glued to me.” you retort pointedly.

“i can’t help it.” sirius grinned smugly. “you’re just so gorgeous, i can’t not be glued to you.”

“no wonder the entire school thinks we’re a thing.” you sigh.

“wait, you aren’t a thing?” alice fortescue and her boyfriend, frank longbottom, looked over curiously.

“nope.” you replied, popping the “p” for emphasis.

“aw, let them think it, won’t you, dove?” sirius complained. “it’s so much more fun that way.”

“but i thought…” alice trailed off.

“me too.” frank agreed.

“you’re not?” a nearby hufflepuff popped her head into the conversation.

“i’m sorry, who are you?” you look at the hufflepuff, baffled. she giggled and scampered off, promptly joining a group of waiting hufflepuffs. the girl whispered into their waiting ears, and they burst into giggles. you were without a doubt that they were talking about sirius.

frankly, this was the issue with having pretty friends. peter had a gentle look about him, with round features, mussed hair because that’s what james’ hair did, and a sweet, boyish smile. james was tall (although only the third tallest of the marauders), beefy, and tan with a cute, lopsided sort of smile, and was far too oblivious to his admirerers due to his infatuation with the equally beautiful lily evans. remus had the sort of nerdy, quiet look about him that girls tended to like. fluffy, sandy hair and a tall frame paired with a surprisingly good fashion sense (something james did not have) lead to a nice view. it was a shame that people never noticed the beauty under all his scars.

and then there was sirius.

without a doubt, the prettiest boy in their year, possibly the whole school. shiny black hair that was well taken-care of, fair skin whose clearness was the envy of many acne-ridden girls, a tall frame that was lean and muscular. big hands, broad shoulders, perfect smile, cleanly shaved. smelled a bit musky, but his cologne was divin-

oh, shut up.

you nearly pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation. you hardly even liked him like that. there’s no use sitting and thinking about how pretty he was while the other gryffindors were— well, what were they doing, anyway? the gryffindors were leaving, so, you left too, walking in step with remus.

“do people really think that we’re dating?” you ask remus as you walk, the other three boys racing ahead (more like other two, as peter was somewhat behind the more athletic boys). remus shrugged.

“i don’t care for rumors.” remus answered, perhaps somewhat stiffly, because there were plenty of rumors about him. there were rumors about all the marauders; popularity does that to you. the thing remus didn’t realize, however, was that there only ones he paid attention to (almost subconsciously) were the negative ones, despite the overwhelming amount of positive ones— as positive as rumors can get, anyway, when most of the rumors surrounding the boys related to how good they were in bed.

“however,” remus added, snapping you out of your thoughts, “i imagine they do. regardless of how you act towards padfoot, he clings to you. you understand what i mean by that, right?” you nod. sirius, the infamous playboy. he reveled in every bit of attention he was given by hopeful fans. he sat there and looked pretty. he was never the one pursuing. so, to see him trying to egg you on, get a reaction out of you— you may as well be snogging.

“i suppose so. but he flirts with everyone.” you point out.

“but he’s not so touchy with everyone. not so domestic.” remus answered. you fall silent as you and remus arrive at the common room. he had a point.

“whippersnapper,” said remus, and he held out his hand, which you took for balance as you climbed into the hole.

not so touchy with everyone. not so domestic.

huh.

#marauders oneshot #marauders drabble #harry potter marauders #marauders era #marauders #james & peter & remus & sirius #remus lupin #sirius black #young sirius black #young sirius x reader #james potter #peter pettigrew #moony #padfoot #wormtail #prongs #padfoot x reader #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs

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frozenjokes · 2 months

Text

More Complications About Love, Polyamory Is Cool, And Like. A Lot Of CubScar Fluff + Hurt/Comfort

‘I’m okay. Gonna stay over with Mumbo for the night, he’s taught me this new card game and I’m crushing him at it. Talk to you tomorrow, promise.’ Accompanying the text was an image of Mumbo laying on the floor next to a messy pile of playing cards, his hands firmly over his eyes.

Cub couldn’t stop staring. He probably should have responded by now, but he found himself stuck, eyes glued to the softly glowing screen in his dim room, fingers tense around his phone. And it wasn’t that he thought Grian was lying, or anything along those lines, Cub believed him, but this, the text he’d been anticipating for what felt like endless hours (thirty minutes, in reality), was supposed to make him feel better. To fix him. To stop him from feeling so shit. Grian was okay, he was with a friend. Cub was proud, deeply, unbelievably proud that Grian had sought Mumbo out in the first place, and not just because Cub knew how badly Grian missed him, how badly he wanted to reconnect. He was proud because Grian had been challenged; by what, Cub still didn’t know, but he had clearly been upset, and instead of self-destructing, Grian had made a conscious effort to find someone that could help. That could meet his needs.

‘I’m glad you’re okay. Call me in the morning.’ Cub sighed, sending the text before he could back track. See? That wasn’t so hard. But he didn’t stop staring. At the words, at the picture. He didn’t move at all.

He wasn’t used to this. Not being enough.

And what a stupid, selfish thing to be upset about, really, Cub felt sick to his stomach just thinking about it, but he was upset, because he wasn’t enough, and Grian didn’t want to- Grian couldn’t come to him anymore for every problem he was having. Grian wouldn’t come to him for anything having to do with HotGuy. It all just made Cub feel like he had made the wrong choice.

Whatever had set Grian off tonight, it had to have been due to HotGuy. Cub couldn’t think of anything else. Any other reason why Grian wouldn’t come home.

Had Grian felt this way? When Scar had first approached Cub, showering him in attention, making him feel good quite frankly, and soft and warm and playful. Cub liked having Scar trailing at his heels, pining like a little girl, kicking his feet and drawing hearts around Cub’s name and looking at him like there was no one else in the world he’d rather love. That in itself was insane, Cub could not fathom why Scar was so infatuated with him, but after he stopped trying to make sense of him, it just started to be fun. Cub liked to play Scar’s little game, to see the soft look of dejection when Cub ignored an advance or didn’t laugh at a joke, or the way Scar’s face lit up when Cub paid him the smallest of compliments; Scar was just adorable, period. And he was patient too- Scar knew that Cub knew Scar was smitten, but there was no rush, no pressure, and Scar never failed to be delighted with whatever Cub felt like giving on any given day. At least, that’s how Scar came off; for all Cub knew, Scar could be getting frustrated, or was unhappy with the pace of their growing relationship, but Cub really didn’t think so. Scar was just so happy. So genuine. In any case, Cub was pretty sure if Scar didn’t say every thought that ran through his head out loud at least ten times he would explode. If Scar wasn’t happy, Cub would know.

And Grian had watched. He said his peace plenty, enough for Cub to know very explicitly how much he didn’t love what was happening here, but Cub had thought that was all because Grian didn’t like HotGuy, not because Grian loved him.

Cub considered himself an independent person. He was proud of his independence, of enjoying his own company, of needing little outside support to keep him happy and healthy. He liked that about himself. All of this made him feel entirely more pathetic for being so dependent on Grian. For not even realizing until he was stuck staring at a stupid text from stupid Grian with stupid Mumbo having a great time without him after fixing all the problems that Cub couldn’t solve because Cub couldn’t be right for everything- he couldn’t always be there.

And he KNEW that. He KNEW it was good for Grian to make more friends, to have more support systems to lean on, to have more options when times got tough, and he needed someone to turn to. Which made it all the more frustrating that Cub was still SO UPSET. Was he so much of a control freak? Maybe he just needed to throw a little fit. To be a complete baby and then stop being a baby and start being normal about his friend having other friends.

So Cub did just that, thrashing around in his bed and punching the mattress and yelling into his pillow until he collapsed face down, limp. Well. He didn’t feel better but that was a little fun. And he wasn’t looking at his phone.

He didn’t remember feeling this way so strongly about Micah. Though, in all honesty, Cub didn’t really think about Micah very much at all. He had noticed when Grian had started complaining about HotGuy less. But Cub had also been getting annoyed, particularly when he felt like he couldn’t be honest about his own feelings. All Grian’s feathers would puff up and he’d get a bit red in the face, and those weren’t conscious actions, but it made talking about HotGuy more like a chore. Maybe he’d been so relieved that Grian’s ire was being funneled elsewhere, he simply didn’t care. And no, Cub shouldn’t have to listen to Grian drag Scar for hours and hours if he didn’t want to, but he just wished the price wasn’t.. this.

Again, Cub wondered if he made the right choice. Choosing Scar, even when Grian wanted him to pursue this. When Grian insisted that this would be good for them (he was probably right), that he had his own things going on. With Micah. Mm. Grian had seemed to like it when Cub discovered Jealousy in that dusty old storage room, and in a way, it was a little bit fun in the context of their kiss, to have that longing, that want, but it was a little less fun now, the idea of Grian simply not being single all the time forever just a little bit terrifying.

And that was normal. Jealousy was a normal, human feeling, one that Cub didn’t have to feel bad about. He knew that perfectly well. But along with the pile of other things Cub knew, that didn’t exactly stop him from Feeling anyway. And it wasn’t a big deal. He would get over it. But he wasn’t so confident he could just ‘get over’ Grian, and that wouldn’t be fair to Scar. Cub groaned into his hands. He was not looking forward to that conversation. Hi Scar. Before things move any further, I just need you to know the thing that I learned about myself yesterday, being that I may be hopelessly inseparable from my roommate that hates you. Sorry for leading you on. I had no idea. But you probably won’t believe that. And I wouldn’t blame you.

Yeah.. Cub and HotGuy probably wouldn’t be talking anymore after that conversation. Well that would solve his current dilemma at least. But then he’d be down a friend, and that would suck. Cub didn’t have many of those, and he really did like HotGuy.

Beside him, Cub’s phone buzzed, an incoming call. Speak of the devil. Well, Cub wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon anyway. He picked up the phone, and didn’t even get to say hello before Scar spoke.

“HI! Can I meet you?”

Cub winced away, turning down the volume by several notches. Processing the words, he thought for a moment. Fuck it. Why not? “Yeah. Come over.”

Whatever noise of surprise Scar made caught over the speaker, and Cub probably would have laughed if he wasn’t so doom and gloom right now, “Is- Is Grian home? I uh- I probably shouldn’t-”

“Grian’s staying with a friend tonight.” Cub interrupted, firm. ‘He needed space from me,’ was left unsaid, but the thought still burned low in his chest. “I would like it if you came over. I could use the company. Having a bit of a crisis.”

“Say no more!” Scar couldn’t have sounded more delighted, though there was a lilt to the edge of his voice that bordered on crazed, “I’m having my own Moment though I wouldn’t call it a crisis. I feel good! I feel good.” Scar said, in the voice of someone who was definitely also going through it. Cub could feel his restless energy through the phone, finding it the slightest bit infectious. This was dangerous, he could already tell.

Cub opened his mouth to ask about Grian, but snapped it shut, suddenly not wanting to know. “Great. See you soon.”

Suddenly feeling restless, Cub got to his feet. He just wanted to move, but felt a little stupid walking in circles, so he started tidying up a bit, and that felt good. He wasn’t a messy person, at least, not as messy as Grian was, but his room could definitely get away from him sometimes, which only made times like these where he sat and sulked feel worse. This was good. Very good. For about the hundredth time this week, he wished he had fireworks, or the materials to make them. Not exactly easy when they were illegal in the state. Maybe he could take a train or something out of state to buy some. That would probably be a waste of money. Who cared?

Scar eventually texted to be buzzed in, and Cub did so, Scar showing up and knocking at his door less than a minute later. It took Cub a moment to realize that something was off, but he stumbled back in his surprise, unsure if he should cover his eyes, “Scar! Your- Your mask-“

“You’d better believe it!” Scar threw a wild grin, inviting himself inside and kicking the door closed behind him, “I’m done! I’m free! Who cares if the world sees my face- I don’t care anymore! I want them to see! I want- I want you to see! This is me, Cub, no masks, no facades. Nice to meet you, I’m Scar. Also known as HotGuy. Also known as Micah by some, though not many. Micah has quite a few names.”

“You- I’m not so sure this is a good idea-“ Cub cut himself off, gaping at that last little tidbit of information, “Micah!? Oh- oh. You know, my evening makes a lot more sense now. I never did meet him, did I?”

“And you never will! Micah is dead. DEAD! I killed him. Gone. I hate Micah. Dead.” Scar made a dramatic stomping motion in his enthusiasm, then a few more times, sufficiently killing that alter ego, apparently, “And I hate HotGuy too. I’d kill him if it wasn’t my job. Maybe I still will! Maybe I’ll just quit! I hate all of it! I’m starting over.”

Cub was beginning to think whatever ‘Moment’ Scar was having, it was a little bit bigger than his own. “Can you.. Is this like- You know, maybe I’m misunderstanding how you can just stop having a civilian identity. Are you just.. going to be HotGuy all the time?”

“No! I won’t be HotGuy at all! Dead!”

“Uhm.” Cub fidgeted with his hands, though Scar didn’t seem to notice, pacing around his living room, “Then.. Who do you want to be? Should I call you something different?”

“Call me Scar! Just Scar. That’s not HotGuy’s name, it’s my name, and I don’t know who me is yet, but tonight we’re going to figure it out!” Scar snapped around, eyes bright. In a terrifying lunge forward, he grabbed Cub’s hands, but Scar looked so genuinely enthusiastic, Cub found it difficult to mind. “Do you like my face?”

Cub couldn’t help but laugh, something soft, “I do. The scars suit you, even if they’re covered up most of the time.”

“I like your face too! Can I kiss you?”

“Maybe later,” Cub smiled, and Scar beamed, releasing Cub’s hands to return to his pacing.

“Well, let’s go back to the basics then, yeah? Who is Scar..” he trailed off, eyes narrowed. They were green, Cub noticed. He’d never actually known. But he didn’t get much time to examine the other previously obscured details when Scar perked up, snapping his fingers, “Scar doesn’t have legs! Can I take these off?”

“Uh-“ It took Cub a moment to realize what Scar was actually talking about, then with a jolt he said, “Yeah, man, do whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t care.”

“Oh! Good idea! That might help, so uncomfortable all the time,” Scar trailed off in a bit of a grumble before beginning to mess with his pants- okay, yeah, sure, just right here, that was fine.

“Do you want to-“ Cub had to think for a moment for the right word in his slight panic, “-change- in my room or a bathroom or something? A little more privacy?”

“Nope!” Scar said brightly, missing Cub’s discomfort entirely, “This is just fine!” Regardless, Cub not-so-subtly turned away; this wasn’t even the first time Scar had taken off his legs around him or anything, this just felt a little vulnerable is all, and Cub wasn’t quite expecting Scar to just plop right down on the floor and start messing with his clothes- really, he could have at least sat on the couch, but apparently the precious seconds it would take to sidle over there were too much in Scar’s brain.

After a minute or so Scar ‘whooped!’ and Cub turned around to see him doing somersaults in his boxers. He wondered absently how many noise complaints he’d gotten tonight, but Scar’s grin was so wide, so joyful, and suddenly he wasn’t all that concerned. If Scar wanted to roll around like a crack raccoon then so be it. Let him have his moment.

“Pick me up!” Scar seemed to materialize at his feet (fuck he was fast-) staring up with those doe eyes of his and- no, Cub wasn’t going to-

“I don’t know if that’s a great idea,” he said instead, nicer.

Scar scoffed, “You’re not going to hurt me. I’ll have you know I’m at least top five on the list of Least Fragile People in this city, and let me tell you, that’s a high bar.”

“Trust me, I do not think you’re fragile. I think you’re heavy, and I’m not very strong. I’ll probably pull a muscle or something and then drop you, and I don’t care if you care if you’re dropped, I do not want to.”

“I’m not heavy! I’m like- I’m like 180lbs, maybe, and like most of that is leg. Trust.”

“That is just not true. Your prosthetics do not weigh nearly that much, I doubt they even weigh more than an actual leg.”

“Bleh.” Scar furrowed his brow pointedly, sticking out his tongue.

“No, no, not bleh. Bleh you. You might not be fragile, but I am.”

“Cub!” Scar announced, puffing out his chest, “I want to be held! I demand that you hold me! Scar wants to be held, you wouldn’t refuse the newly rebirthed Scar, would you?”

“I absolutely would,” Cub chuckled, stepping around him, and Scar released the most affronted gasp Cub had heard from anyone in his entire life, following close behind.

“I will climb you!”

“You- no you will not!” Cub stumbled in a pathetic little jump away, but Scar gave chase, his grin sharp, “Scar! I do not have a belt on!”

“You better run then, because I’m coming!”

“that’swhatshesaid.”

Scar just gaped at him for a moment of genuine shock, staring utterly stupidly up at him like he didn’t know whether to be angry or impressed. Scar shut his mouth. Then opened it again. “CUB!”

Cub laughed, open and full, but Scar began his attack with a vengeance, snagging at the leg of Cub’s sweatpants just too late as Cub hopped away. With a little more terror, Cub leapt in the other direction, Scar howling at his knees as they looped around the couch. Scar was fast, terrifying so, and Cub was not pretending when he skidded around the kitchen table, slipped when Scar looped the other way, and scrambled off his knees just as Scar’s hand slipped off his ankle. Just then, Cub got the impression Scar might be the one going easy on him, but he was not about to test that theory, tearing away to the couch and jumping gracelessly over the back.

“You think I can’t get up there, Cub?” Scar sneered, having too much fun as he snaked around the side, but Cub was ready, nailing him with the heaviest cushion off the seat. Scar squeaked, falling off balance with a gentle oof, and Cub wasted no time snatching another pillow from the sofa and beating him with it. Scar squealed, laughing, and Cub did not relent, not until Scar stopped fighting, not until he was sure the other was tired. This did not happen. Apparently Scar didn’t just ‘get tired.’ Well. Cub did.

So he stopped, replacing the cushion and pillow to their rightful places before falling back on the couch, letting his head hang back. After a minute or two, Scar pulled himself off the floor, and Cub side-eyed him as he poked his head around the side. Not unlike a cat, Scar seemed eager to test his luck, tie toeing (on his fucking fingers, christ, what a gloat) forward near the empty seat, then a little closer to Cub’s legs.

“I could use some help.. getting up..” Scar said, piteous as he glanced up from his place on the floor. He shifted his weight on his hands, looking lost, actor that he was.

“You can do it.” Now Cub really felt like he was talking to a cat. Though, if he was, the cat would be a hell of a lot more convincing than the grown ass man pittering on his floor. Scar did give it his best shot though, engaging in a staring contest that he was never going to win, giving up, whining a little, pushing his head pathetically against the couch cushion, then finally, pulling himself up without issue. “There you go,” Cub mumbled, and Scar lit up, decidedly missing that Cub was teasing.

“Anyone sitting here?” Scar gestured vaguely, and Cub snorted despite himself. Scar took this as a solid no, and sidled his way right at Cub’s side, leaning a little awkwardly to rest his head on Cub’s shoulder. Cub let his own head fall on Scar’s. It would probably be more comfortable for the both of them to do this the other way around; Scar had a good couple inches on him after all, but he seemed content regardless, and who was Cub to deny him anything.

“Hey,” Scar looked up after a minute, gently curious. You know, Cub was starting to agree with him about the mask thing. Look at those eyes..

“Hi,” he said, one too many moments later, “Whatcha need?”

“Oh, I mean,” Scar looked startled, like he wasn’t prepared for Cub to guess he had a question, “I mean, when we were talking over the phone, you said you weren’t doing well. You okay?”

Cub sighed, not entirely sure how to answer the question, so he took a moment to close his eyes, think about it. “Dunno. I feel alright now. Don’t want to ruin the mood or anything, we don’t have to talk about it.”

“I’d like to hear if you want to share. Is it about Grian?” Scar asked like he knew, and Cub couldn’t help but squirm. Of course it was. Who else? What else?

“A little bit,” he said, carefully, but caved as he felt Scar’s eyebrows raise against his neck, “Yes. But you don’t want to hear about Grian, and this is stupid anyway. I’ll get over it.”

“I do actually, and I mean that, I did want to talk about him- not-” Scar must have felt Cub slump, or maybe heard the roiling in his stomach, “-not bad! I mean, I’m sure you know we had a bit of a talk tonight, a heart to heart if you will, and it was nice, though ended a bit abruptly, which. My bad.”

“I didn’t.” Cub pushed the words out through gritted teeth, suddenly overcome with the striking feeling he might cry. Damn. It had been awhile, hadn’t it.. Cub couldn’t even remember. Maybe he was due. Not here though, not on Scar, for goodness’ sake. “I figured.. I mean, I knew a bit more clearly when you showed up, but.. I didn’t know. He didn’t want to tell me.” Cub felt his heart rattling in his lungs, shaking his ribs. God, he didn’t want to do this, not now.

Scar hummed, a quiet understanding. He took his time before he answered, eyes distant across the room, staring right through the wall. “Well, Grian wanted to meet me to talk about a couple things. He wanted to tell me a bit about his past, all those little escapades he’s embarked on while he’s been unemployed. He wanted to show me he could be honest, I think. That he wanted to be honest with me. Be- uh- nicer to me.”

“Did he..” Cub mumbled, unhappiness churning in his chest. Logic didn’t seem to matter anymore, whether it was any of Cub’s business or not, all he could think about were the things Grian wasn’t telling him. And that was so selfish- so unfair! He and Grian had just had a massive heart to heart yesterday, and a lovely afternoon- why was he being so awful. Grian didn’t have to tell him anything. Especially not wanting to talk to Scar, that was his own damn business.

“He did,” Scar said, kindly. “And he told me he was in love with you. That you loved him back, but that you two had decided it might be better to branch out, to see where that takes you.”

For a moment, Cub was okay. And then everything fell apart. The dam broke, and he was sobbing, wretched and cold, holding himself in a vice. Scar’s head lifted from his shoulder, and gently, so gently, he pulled Cub into a loose hug, a suggestion of comfort, one that Cub could leave without issue. He didn’t. He didn’t want to lose this.

“I’m sorry,” Cub choked on the words, and felt Scar’s fingers graze his scalp, carding through his hair, and he sobbed harder, harder under love so kind.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t know. I’ve led you on. I’ve led you on, and I’m not even good for Grian either, ‘cause I can’t leave him the fuck alone! I want everything, I want everything and I have no right. And I still- I still like you.”

“That’s okay, Cub.”

Cub balled his fists around his own shirt, arms still locked across his chest, “You don’t have to say it just because. I don’t like it. Tell me how you feel or not at all.”

“Well,” Scar was painfully undeterred, voice light, “I think you’re going through something. I think you and Grian have been very close for a long while, and you’ve endured so much together, it makes sense that you’re used to sharing everything, yeah?”

“But I- I don’t even want to hear it half the time. I don’t really care about the asshole that always cuts the lines in the grocery store and I hated it when he’d go on and on about you- I hated it! I didn’t want to hear it! But I still- I can’t stand it that he’s just not telling me anymore! He’s finding other people, and that’s good, it’s so good, and I just can’t be happy.”

Scar considered him carefully, taking his time. “I mean, things are changing, aren’t they? Doesn’t matter if the change is for the better or for the worse most of the time. It fucking sucks. This is painfully trivial, I know, but I throw a fit whenever they go and update my uniform. Either to change up the design or remake it with stronger, safer materials; it drives me completely crazy! I hate it, and then I get used to it, and sometimes even then I’m not super happy, but it’s not always bad. Might even be a good thing, even if you don’t know it yet. Maybe you do know it’s for the best, but you still gotta throw a little fit because AUGH this SUCKS. Y’know? You’re not an asshole, Cub, you’re just human. Funny thing about humans too, is that they can love more than one person at the same time. Again, it’s not a sin.”

“Feels bad,” Cub mumbled, unable to say much else.

Scar laughed, and no matter how hard Cub tried to find it, there was no hollowness there, “Well I hope at least I can make you feel a little bit better about one of those things. I have a plan. I am not so easily deterred, Sir Cub!”

“If you have to tell me you have a plan before you say the actual thing, I feel like you’re about to say something stupid and are trying to brace me for it.”

“I..” Scar drew the word out, looking equal parts mischievous as he looked excited, “am going to court Grian.”

Cub jolted up, so surprised he let go of his arms, “You’re going to what?”

“I think you heard me. Listen, G and I had a rocky start, everyone could see it! He didn’t like me because I liked you, and I didn’t like him because he’s an asshole-”

“Grian hasn’t liked you for years, his behavior was not just-”

Scar ignored Cub entirely, continuing on like he hadn’t heard, “But in the end, we’re really only after the same thing, yeah? Now, now, we’re both adults I’d say, so why are we fighting, really? I’m asking, why fight?” Cub could have answered that question in a dozen different ways Scar would have hated, so instead he kept his mouth shut, “So I’m saying, if everyone wants a piece of you,” Scar draped his arms across Cub’s shoulders, smirking as he leaned in close and blood rushed to Cub’s cheeks, “Why not share?”

Cub longed to retort, bite back, anything to offset the amount of flustered he was feeling right now, but he couldn’t find the words, only managing a quiet, “Okay,” though Scar was far from done, gazing at him through narrowed eyes.

“Close your eyes, imagine it for me,” the words were barely whispered, and there was no reason to be any louder, “All of us, sitting here. Grian’s behind you, holding you loosely at your waist, his legs around yours. I’m up front, back against your chest, just like this,” Scar moved, and Cub did not stop him, allowing the picture to be painted. Scar let him breathe for a moment, then continued, “We’re all relaxed, watching a movie maybe, but none of us are really watching. We’re tired, separately, from work, just enjoying each other’s company. The feeling of our breathing together is all that really matters.” Scar leaned back, letting his weight fall entirely on Cub’s chest.

“Grian lets his head fall against your neck, not on purpose really, that’s just what’s closest, and he kisses you gently, hardly any thought behind it. Just a reminder that he’s there, as if you’d forget. I’d feel his breath, and I’d look back, y’know, to see what the fuss is about, and I’d see Grian there brainless and adorable and I’d turn around and bite him right on the nose and just instantly everything is thrown into chaos. Grian starts squawking and flailing but his ass isn’t going anywhere, not when he’s being crushed into the sofa by the weight of two big guys! I turn around,” Scar stops for a moment to do so, chest to chest with Cub’s soft chuckling, “And I’m just teasing him because he can’t get out, and he can’t attack me without hurting you too, so he’s just thrashing uselessly which is hilarious until you start getting annoyed, and without even a word of warning you start getting up, and suddenly we’re both panicking because we don’t want that! We were so comfortable! But you don’t give a fuck, because you’re heartless and cold and eat rocks so you leave and then we’re sad.”

“I eat rocks?”

“Well since you asked so nicely for a better ending, I suppose I can give you one,” Scar sighed, and Cub rolled his eyes, saying nothing, “You start to get up, but after Grian and I’s mutual panic, we work together to convince you to stay, and we try not to fight for the rest of the night. If we do start something though, we make sure you’re sufficiently trapped, Grian straddling you with his legs and me laying right on top of you so we can battle it out in peace.”

“What I’m learning from this is that I should never be in the middle.” Cub paused, considering this, “Well, I guess I could if you were behind me and Grian was in front. No legs, and it doesn't matter how much he flaps, Grian’s not weighing anyone down.”

“You’d be surprised! CuteGuy’s got a pretty fierce pin if he really wants to hold you down. Mostly because he’s sharp everywhere though. Listen, Grian is strong, but I overpower him anyday. Hey- does this mean you’re on board?”

Cub laughed softly, enjoying the proximity of Scar’s sudden excitement, “If you can manage this, then please, be my guest to try.”

“Oh I will. I will. HotGuy can pull anyone.”

Cub barked a short laugh, shaking his head, “You better not tell him that. He’ll take it as a challenge.”

“I won’t, but seriously, I know that Grian has the capacity to like me. He liked Micah! Came right onto him the first time they met, though, I am willing to believe Grian might’ve attached himself to anyone that night. How lucky! It’s such a small world, isn’t it? Regardless, I am so his type. I can tell. Oh, I might have told him actually he wasn’t my type. Hm. Hopefully he doesn’t remember that. Like- it’s not that I don’t think he’s cute-”

“Oh my god, Scar.”

“Don’t say it! I would totally one hundred percent be down to clown with Grian, alright? He’s so much better when he’s not being a dick to me! I really do like him! Like- like like, I don’t know yet, but dating isn’t about loving someone right away, it’s about fucking around and finding out, and boy do I want to find out. This is going to be so fun.”

“You say that like you won’t crumble if you get rejected.”

“I won’t get rejected.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Hey! You know when I said Grian liked Micah, I meant it. He was totally into him.”

Cub snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’m aware.”

“Wait- really? Did he talk about me? What did he say?”

“You are terrible. Seriously.”

“Is it a crime to want to know? Come on, please? This is relevant, important information! Especially after the whole fiasco that was tonight, goodness. This might be a bit of a setback, but that’s alright. We’ll talk about it. But if I know what Grian likes about Micah, then we can get this show on the road even faster! What do you say?”

“I don’t think anything I say to you will be helpful.”

“Well- whatever! Okay, maybe I just want to know for the sake of it, is that what you want to hear? Grian spends 90% of his time actively trying to make my life harder, can you blame me?”

“I guess you’re right,” Cub mused, restituating a bit on the couch so he could lay down, Scar settled nicely on top, “Well, I think he liked to keep Micah and I a bit separate, at least to me, so he didn’t talk about you too much. But he really appreciated the way you brought him in, like, probably more than you’ll ever know. And he didn’t say that to me, but I know Grian, I can tell. He gets a certain way. He’ll never forget that, never. In general, he liked you because you were kind. Because you didn’t run at the first sign of trouble, because Grian is trouble, and he knows it, so he’s pretty wary of people that.. I don’t know. He likes to test people, try and make them uncomfortable, see if they flinch and pull away. And he didn’t have to test you, you saw him right at his worst and treated him like a human being, even after knowing about the CuteGuy stuff. That’s all he really wants. To be treated normally. Fairly. Obviously you checked all his boxes. It helped that Micah was fucking weird with all that fae stuff too, Grian can’t really get behind anyone who isn’t at least a little crazy. It makes him feel comfortable.”

Scar nodded, looking very much like he wanted to know more and doing an extremely poor job of hiding it. Cub chuckled to himself.

“I know you probably want specifics, but I don’t have many. You were right though, he was pretty into you. Mentioned trying to pursue something romantically, just see where it goes. That’s a little awkward now of course, and probably the main reason he was so upset. I mean.. I don’t know, I wasn’t there, but I’m sure that freaked him out big time. And I don’t blame him.”

“I.. didn’t know that. I mean. I knew he found me attractive, but I didn’t consider he was romantically interested- ah, you know, this makes a little more sense. I really wasn’t trying to spur anything on though, I mean, obviously Micah couldn’t just go around dating people.”

Cub raised an eyebrow, disbelieving. “Really. You did nothing to spur him on.”

“Wh- No?? Why are you talking like that?”

“Scar.”

“Cub!”

Cub sighed deeply through his nose, unsure if he should be frustrated or just exasperated. “Scar, I believe in quite some detail you told Grian exactly how you’d take his virginity. Tomorrow night, actually. You don’t see any way that could have sparked anything.”

Scar sat up, an alarming amount of surprise coloring his face, “I- it was not like that.”

“Well to Grian it was very much ‘like that,’ and I didn’t get many details, but the way he described it, it sounded a bit to me that it was ‘like that’ as well. Dumbass.”

“Hey! Okay, so maybe I went into a bit of detail, but that was only because I was trying to show him that Micah isn’t- he’s not good for first times, okay? I gotta keep the prosthetics on, and it’s pretty obvious up close, and even touching them it’s obvious it’s not real skin. I also told him very explicitly I was a last resort! I did not want to fuck Grian! He was just so damn pent up and I was getting so pissed at him I had to do something!”

“Are. You’re serious. That’s why you were going to take him out.”

“Yes! Yes, and he knew it! I told him! If he chose to ignore me then that is sufficiently a him problem. He was bugging the shit out of me! Though, what he ended up doing instead was probably a lot better. Y’know, talking about your feelings and stuff. You don’t think he’s upset about our Thursday plans not happening anymore, do you?”

“I very much do think he is!”

Scar let his head fall on Cub’s chest. “Fuuuuuck.”

“I would say so.”

“I told him. I told him though. I told him it wasn’t glamorous. Why did he go and glamorize it. That’s not. He might have hated it. I don’t even love it.”

“You are an idiot.”

“You think he’d still be down for tomorrow though? I mean, I could give him a much better time now that he knows who I am. I- You’re looking at me like I’m saying something stupid right now.”

“I can not believe you.”

“I’ll shelve that then.” Scar yawned, nestling his head close to Cub’s chin. Cub sighed. It was getting pretty late, wasn’t it. And he was tired too, his eyes- damn, he forgot how that felt. It really had been too long since he’d had a good cry.. Alright.

“Let’s get to bed, then. You can stay, but I’m waking you up when I go to work in the morning. You need to be out of here before Grian comes home, and I mean it, if for some ungodly reason he comes home before 8 AM, you’re going out the window.”

“I can swing that.” Scar settled, then seemed alarmed when Cub began to move, “Wait- where are you going?”

“To bed.”

“Not- you don’t just want to sleep here?”

“No. I need to charge my phone. And piss. And you’re too warm. And I want my pillow. And this will get uncomfortable in like fifteen minutes.” Cub continued to sit up, Scar whining as he slid off.

“You’re mean. And hard to please.”

“There isn’t a single person that can compete with my bed,” Cub got to his feet, leaving Scar to mope face down on the couch. Walking away, he paused briefly, glancing at the floor where Scar’s prosthetics had been discarded. “Want me to get your legs?”

“Yes please,” Scar grumbled into the couch, and Cub smiled, bending over to collect them.

“Goodnight then. If you ever decide to join me, will you shut the light off on your way out?” At an inaudible grunt from Scar, which Cub assumed to be a yes, he left the room, bringing Scar’s legs with him.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #hermitcraft fanfic #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #grian #cubfan #cubfan135 #hotguy #cuteguy #hermitshipping #cubscar #cubscarian #suggestive

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