#everything 2 me. rotating him in my mind

[skipppppy]

In my Carmen Sandiego era again. Why cant I kiss him on his stupid pathetic little face

#everything 2 me. rotating him in my mind #chase devineaux #carmen sandiego 2019 #acme

[poptartmochi]

dmc youtube comments are either the pits of hell or the Greek forum of philosophy.. croikey

#silver bullet makes the man so insane so crazy... #i need to replay 4 and 5 + rotate nero in my mind like the rotisserie chickeb 🐔 #one day i'll either find a transcription of all the dialogue or transcribe it myself so i can refer to it easier. i think i have gone off #the rails too much w his character and lost what the writers were really Saying with him ykwim #having everything written down will initiate the next stage of madness and mania i just know it. 🙈 dragon age had SUCH a grip on me bc #all the dialogue was notated for me to reference. and the intentions behind each line too! drawing my own conclusions will be fun #if i do this though i think i really ought to go read deadly fortune too 😩 i have evaded it for too long #alternatively i can read the completely unrelated dmc 2 novel that has nothing to do with dmc 2 #it lost me in the beginning but i should give it another go.. it has another abandoned lady character that i can go bananas for 🤪 #sriracha.txt

[crabsnpersimmons]

This one goes out to all the slow burn enjoyers, the dense Y/Ns, and the soft robo jesters that suffer in silence!

Inspired by @bamsara's “Solar Lunacy” fic.

If you feel like reading my ramblings and want to experience more heartbreak for fictional jester blorbos, check under the cut where I detail all the planning behind the frames!

so i heard this song for the first time in a while and the opening lyrics immediately made me think of moon, so i was daydreaming some scenes and then i decided to thumbnail some ideas:

and it all went downhill from there as everything became a metaphor and a parallel to each other, which i will now go into detail on!

you thought the animatic itself was sad?

*writing muse laughs maniacally* IT'S ALL A METAPHOR

Frame 1. "turn down the lights" We start with a back view on Moon. The lights are out, the Moon is out, but we do not see his face. The music and the greyscale atmosphere are enough to establish the weight of the moment and the weight on Moon’s mind.

Frame 2. "turn down the bed" We cut to a shot of Moon's body, kneeling on the ground of the daycare, like a padded cell. Moon’s hands are twitching with the effects of the glitch, with purple sparks coming from his hands. We still do not see his face.

Frame 3. "turn down these voices inside my head" Cut to an extreme close up on the dark half of Moon’s face. Now we see his face, but only a portion of it. His left eye is wide open, red and glitching out. The voices in his head can refer to the glitch but also his repressed feelings. Or maybe it could be Sun's voice in their shared headspace.

Frame 4. "lay down with me" Y/N's hand enters the frame from the upper right corner, lowering down to meet Moon where he kneels on the ground. Only a corner of Moon's face appears on the bottom left corner of the frame, his starry nightcap beginning to cover his glitched left eye.

Frame 5. "tell me no lies" An full shot of Moon on the floor and Y/N standing in front of him with their hand stretched towards him. A light spills out from behind Y/N, creating a boundary between them.

Now we see more of Moon. It is only when Y/N enters the frame—enters his world—that Moon’s body is shown in its entirely. When Y/N is here, he is no longer fragmented. He is whole.

Frame 6. "just hold me close" pspspspsps Playfully, Moon extends his own hand, beckoning Y/N to come closer, to join him. His right hand crossed over his body as he uses the playful gesture to hide his true feelings—to put distance between him and Y/N. His hat continues to cover his glitching left eye. He doesn’t want to worry Y/N.

Frame 7. "don't patronize" In response, Y/N’s hand pats Moon on the head, returning his playfulness. Moon looks surprised by the action. Moon, notably, does not lower his hand—perhaps he has forgotten it or perhaps his invitation is still open.

Frames 8-9. "don't patronize me" Moon rotates his faceplate so Y/N’s hand is touching the side of his faceplate, a more intimate gesture than a head pat. However, his hat is in the way. At this angle, his starry nightcap fully covers his glitchy eye and the dark side of his face, hiding his defect and acting as a veil between him and Y/N. A self-imposed boundary. So close, yet thinly separated. It's better this way. It's safer this way.

The lyrics are broken up by Y/N's arm, both to illustrate how the song is sung ("patronize" is drawn out and "me" is briefly added in before the chorus starts) but also to show how Y/N interrupts Moon's resolve, highlighting the irony between the visuals and the lyrics. Demanding not to be patronized, yet Moon happily accepts this play at intimacy. Don't patronize me, I am weak for it.

This is also the only instance where the red light of Moon's eyes glow and tint the surfaces around it. Visually, it makes it look like Moon is blushing (heavily inspired by @restinsodaroni's art). But also, in this moment of honesty, Moon's intrinsic light spills out, colouring the greyscale world. In this brief moment of honesty, Moon touches the world with his own colours, his own light.

(and this is also where i forgot to clean up the shading on Y/N's arm, but it's okay it doesn't need to be perfect it simply needs to be. And Moon will still love Y/N even if they are a continuity error.)

Frame 10. "'cause I can't make you love me if you don't" A parallel to a frame 4, Y/N retrieves their hand away and immediately Moon is reduced to the corner of his faceplate in the frame. Only now his glitched eye is fully covered by his hat.

The lyrics here (and in the next frame) in particular grow lighter to emphasize Moon's diminishing resolve and agency.

From here on out, the lyrics here are broken up, carrying on this theme of fragmentation. Y/N is pulling away, Moon is breaking up, the words are breaking up. Everything is coming apart.

Frame 11. "you can't make your heart feel something it won't" Y/N turns to leave. The lyrics, broken up as before, highlight the irony of the situation. Y/N, a human, can’t feel something they simply don’t feel. Whereas, Moon, the machine, feels something his code never intended him to feel.

Frame 12. "here in the dark in these final hours" Another full shot that parallels frame 5, as Y/N steps towards the light and Moon leans forward into the space Y/N once occupied. Y/N is leaving—that which makes him whole is leaving. And he is only capable of making it to the boundary where the light cuts into the darkness. The "final hours" suggest it might be the end of Y/N’s shift, or perhaps this scene takes place right before the glitch takes over—the final hours that Y/N has with the true Moon. Either way, time is running out—and only Moon knows it.

There is a contrasting display of body language here. Moon is on the floor leaning towards Y/N with his hand still left out. Whereas Y/N is turned away, walking away, and has already slipped their hand away and into their pocket. Y/N is closed off while Moon is limply open. Y/N is actively moving while Moon is on the floor, waiting, hoping, for that which he lacks the agency to reach for himself.

Frame 13. "I will lay down my heart" A close up on Moon’s hand, rising up again, perhaps to beckon Y/N back once more. This is a slight parallel to Y/N's hand reaching out to Moon. While Y/N can freely reach out and touch Moon, Moon cannot. He can't enter the light and more importantly he can't risk potentially harming his relationship with Y/N—be it through the glitch or by his feelings. He can only lay down his heart—put aside his feelings or hope that someone will pick up his pieces and make him whole.

Frame 14. "and I'll feel the power" Still on a close up on Moon’s hand, now clenched in slightly. This initially was going to have the glitch effects. However, I felt it more meaningful for it to be left without. Leave it up for interpretation why Moon pauses his hand. What is the power that he alone feels and stays his hand?

Frame 15. "but you won't, no, you won't" A parallel to frame 1, a view of on Moon's back with his hand stretched out towards the light, and Y/N walking into the light spilling through the open daycare door.

The placement of the lyrics suggest two different “you won’t”—Y/N who won’t realize Moon’s feelings, and Moon who won’t dare speak them into reality.

Another note on the parallel to frame 1, this time we also see Y/N's back, but it is notably different from our view of Moon's back. With Moon, we literally see inside him through the hole for his loop. However, Y/N is shrouded in shadow, just a solid, obscure silhouette against the bright light of a world Moon—and Sun for that matter—are closed off from. We don’t see into Y/N, just as the Daycare Attendant doesn't have any vantage point of Y/N's life beyond their time at the PizzaPlex. (The unfortunate reality of a being a character made for the purpose of being a vessel for the reader.)

Frame 16. "'cause I can't make you love me" We finally cut to face Moon head-on, frozen in place with his hand stretched out, unable to cross the boundary into the light. His eyes have gone dark. Where we began by seeing bits and parts of Moon, and never seeing his full face—now we, the viewer, see the full Moon, open and vulnerable—unbeknownst to Y/N.

Frame 17. "if you don't" But in the dark, behind closed doors, there is no one to perceive him—no one to receive him. The light dwindles as the daycare doors are closed. Moon stays frozen where he kneels. It is no longer the glitch that plagues him, but a far deeper dread.

But a lone streak of light peaks through the gap in the daycare doors. Perhaps that is just enough. A silver lining. A frail hope. A single, ethereal thread out of darkness and into light.

Thanks for reading and watching!

We'll be back to our regularly scheduled fun and games shortly!

#fnaf moon #fnaf dca #dca fandom #so this idea had me by the throat ever since I heard this song again #I've never done an animatic before but I wanted to give it a shot #the opening lyrics already reminded me of moon right off the bat #but then i kept listening and started thumbnailing some frames #it was actually the frames with moon receiving the head pat and turning his faceplate that convinced me i had to do this lol #the sweetest images resulted in this work of angst #thank you if you read all this! #i promise to post something cute soon to balance things out #and no promises but i will say the second verse of the song is PERFECT for sun #“morning will come and I'll do what's right just give me 'till then to give up this fight” /lyrics #hahaha it hurts :') #crab art #traditional art #digital art #traditionally inked and digitally coloured #animatic

[hwaslayer]

home (khj) | one shot.

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

—pairing: kim hongjoong x f!reader

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

—word count: 24k

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

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

Home.

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

Hongjoong.

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

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

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

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

Hongjoong.

—LATE JUNIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE

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

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

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

You couldn’t say you were surprised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You would’ve made it.” Mingi laughs.

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

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

“You sure?” You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is early to you?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks. Are you into photography or something?”

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

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

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

“How can you tell?”

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

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

“I’m just being honest.”

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

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

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

“I don’t know, you’re drunk.”

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

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

“Do you want me to be?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Mind if I grab one, too?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, sure.”

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

So colorful, vibrant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you smiling like that then?”

“Not because of you.” You tease.

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

“Just wanted to get some air.”

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

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

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

Kiss you. 

Hold your hand.

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

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

“You— wait, what?”

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

“A date, hm?”

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

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

“Yeah? It’ll be fun.”

“Where are you planning on taking me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm. Finally! I’m so tired today.”

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

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

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

“Did you just get home?”

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

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

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

“Joong, I have to study tonight.”

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

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

“Really?” He says excitedly.

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

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

“Okay.”

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

Welp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Surprisingly, you do finish everything.

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

“Mhm?”

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

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

“Are you almost done, though?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just want a kiss.”

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

And you do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is pretty to you?”

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

“Yeah, I’m sleepy.”

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

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

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

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

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

You definitely slept well that night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He made me breakfast in bed, too.”

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

“Woo, listen to me.” You pout.

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

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

“What, why?”

“He’s just so good to me.”

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

“Really?” He smiles and nods.

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

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

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

All of this.

—SUMMER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whose house is it at?”

“Joshua’s.” His dad nods.

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

“I know, I can’t wait.” You giggle.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, he’s an old man.”

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

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

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

“Don’t be like that.” He pouts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He does.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s my girl.” 

“You look hella happy with her.”

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

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

“We’re not really talking.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joong.” You giggle.

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

“No one’s perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In the lot?!”

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

“Joong, someone might see us.”

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

“We don’t even have a condom!”

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

“Feels so good.” You whine.

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

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

You can’t believe him right now.

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

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

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

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

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

“Offer still stands, love.”

“What offer?”

“To sleep in my room.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

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

“I do!”

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

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

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

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

“I hate sleeping without you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You, perfect for him.

You, everything to him.

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

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

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

You felt empty, like your other half was missing.

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

A night without his warmth.

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

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

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

How Hongjoong has been so, so good to you.

—SENIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you didn’t.”

“It’s 15 minutes, Joong.”

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

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

“That’s not the point.”

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

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

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

“I’m not being like anything, Y/N.”

“You’re being mean.”

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

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

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

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

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

Why were you doing everything wrong?

“Woo.” You cry into the phone.

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

“Do you want me to pick you up?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“He didn’t say anything else to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joong, get up.”

“Baby. I’m sooo drunk.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Mingi’s in bed.”

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

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

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

“I’m sorry about this.”

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

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

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

“Stop, Joong. Get your shirt off.”

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

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

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

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

It shouldn’t be that way, though.

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

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

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

Oh, Hongjoong.

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

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

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

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

“You made breakfast?”

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

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

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

“Hey. I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“It’s fine, Joong.”

“You don’t seem like you’re fine.”

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

“You’re so good to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, and?”

“Nothing, nevermind.”

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

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

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

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

“I’m trippin’ over stupid shit?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

She knows, she knows.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it gets you every single time. 

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

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

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

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

No one else matters to me.

You’re perfect.

Made for me.

My good girl.

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

Things were good, until they weren’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So much for cutting her off, Hongjoong.”

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

“Not my point.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To you, maybe.”

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

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

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

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

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

“How is it different?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s it?” You pause. “Hongjoong.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna go home.”

“Want me to drive you?”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, sure. You okay?”

“I don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hongjoong: where are you?

hongjoong: y/n

hongjoong: assuming you’re with wooyoung

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

hongjoong: fuck this, whatever

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

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

What’s gonna be left of this?

What’s gonna be left of you?

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

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

wooyoung: where the fuck else would she be?

wooyoung: she’s at home, sleeping

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

yunho: they fought again? over what?

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

yunho: wtf why? i dont get it?

wooyoung: you and me both

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

wooyoung: thanks

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

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

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

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

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

“It was so stupid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to shower.”

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

“Are you at least feeling better?”

“Kinda? Sleep did me well for sure.”

“It’s cause of me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hanging up more?”

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

“Mm.” He hums. “Did you sleep well?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She just needs her friends.”

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

“We were good friends before we even dated.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

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

Not anymore.

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

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

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

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

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

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

“You’re not mad, are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck the rest.

—CURRENT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, babe.” He gives you a look.

“You okay, baby girl?” 

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

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

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

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

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

Nor do you want to on your birthday.

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

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

“Why? Did something happen with Hongjoong?”

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

Of your home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

tara: yeah! should i leave soon?

hongjoong: yeah im just gonna be here

tara: i’ll be on my way!

tara: joongie i’m outside

hongjoong: meet you at the door in a sec

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

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

All of that going to waste.

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

tara: yup!

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

tara: are you going to channie’s?

hongjoong: yeah, are you?

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

hongjoong: go 😞

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

hongjoong: nah shes not..

tara: ohhh okay, maybe then!

hongjoong: just go, wanna see you ☹️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe you were just the excuse.

The rebound.

The one he needed for his own selfish reasons.

It was never about you.

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

You are.

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

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

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

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

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

2 years of nothing.

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

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

Because did you deserve this? All of this? 

It was never about you.

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

Now, there is nothing left of you.

Nothing left of this home you built.

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

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

#hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #ateez x reader #hongjoong fanfic #kim hongjoong fanfic #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez #hongjoong oneshot #kim hongjoong oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong smut #hongjoong angst #kim hongjoong angst #him hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong fluff #kpop imagines #hwaslayer: home

[lvlyghost]

The Things I Never Said: Part 3

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Summary: You're required for one last mission.

Word Count: 2.5k

Tw: aaaaaangst, hurt with a lot of comfort. injuries, mentions of blood, kissing and slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit. price has to make a hard choice:(poor grammar, bad english ofc💅🏻 foreshadowing to my price fic 'salvation' if you squint.

A/N: i'm not gonna lie, when i wrote the first part of this fic i was bored and never in a million years did it cross my mind y'all would like it this much. sorry if this isn't as good, this is the final part of it, although i plan to write little drabbles every now and then. this was such a nice ride 🩷✨ thx for the support; remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome 🤍🐸

Masterlist✨ Part 2

Desk rotation wasn't fun, but it seemed to be the only suitable work for you considering your pregnancy, besides, it would allow Simon to keep an eye on you. At least he's sure you'd be safer in the military base than alone in your home.

Your only companion as you sit in the tech room is nothing more than a computer with two screens and Jimmy, the other tech guy who sits in the far corner across from you.

True to his word, Price had saved you and Simon a horrible martial court plus being discharged. Technically you're no longer a part of the 141 task force which is already upsetting to all of your team; instead working strictly under Price's command and assisting the different branches of the military. Meaning you're no longer subdued to Lieutenant Riley, therefore you're not his subordinate, at least not directly.

You respond to Price and only Price.

Nearing the end of your first trimester your swollen belly has started to show, the same you try to dissimulate by wearing bigger shirts than you would usually wear, but enough for Simon to notice when he'd place a big calloused hand on your stomach.

'It's... tiny.' He had stated, to which you laughed softly.

'Of course it is, your hand is massive!'

You shake your head, with a small smile on your lips as you remember that scene.

"Everything good?" You ask your companion.

"Mhm. You know you're the best for creating the security system right? Not a single breach or flaw. Couldn't ask for a better partner."

"Is that a chai?" Completely ignoring what he just said you point the white disposable cup next to him. He looks between you and his drink.

"Yeah? Didn't know you liked it, here... have it. I can get another." He assures you when you hesitate.

You thank him with glowing eyes and excitement. Cravings... you're embarrassed of the amount of food you've asked from Simon in the middle of the night. Sushi, pizza and even peaches just for the sake of the baby.

He's being the gentlest man on earth. Caring and supportive. Your phone buzzes as you're about to start to work. The screen lights up with a message from your Captain. Huffing you stand up, letting Jimmy know you'll be back in a few minutes, or so you thought.

You're not prepared for the hell unfolding inside John's office.

You're able to hear male voices from the other side of the hallway. You don't know why but your heart begins to race, knocking twice once you've reached the brown wooden door.

"Come in!" Price shouts from inside.

You open the door, greeted by John's hardened eyes and Simon's back as he hunches over the Captain's desk. Confused and much to your dismay there's a gigantic folder between the two men, your eyes fall on Ghost's trembling frame.

He is enraged.

Body buzzing in anger as the soft click of the door interrupts the silence that's fallen suddenly inside.

"You wanted to see me Sir?"

Price slowly stands, Simon doing the same, turning his head ever so slightly to watch you from over his shoulder.

"I need to talk to you, sweetheart." Price begins.

A deep breath exits Simon's chest.

"What is it?" You take a step closer to them, until you're standing next to him, crossing his arms over his chest he remains silent.

"We need you. For a mission." He states. "It's important, sergeant. I don't think anyone else would be able to pull this off." Your eyes dart back to your boyfriend. Staring daggers at his superior. "I'd never ask for this if I had to."

"Bloody hell Price, she's not fucking going!" He is seething.

The gut-wrenching feeling sets in your belly, tossing and turning with anxiety. Simon isn't taking this well and you don't want to see him like this, it breaks your heart.

"How important, Sir?" You ask.

Ghost snaps his head towards you. Jaw tightening, and calls your name ever so softly.

"Don't." He barks. "Don't fucking play the hero, kid." He warns you.

"I'm not trying to play the hero, Simon." You talk back. "I'm trying to figure out how to get this done. I might have someone else that could go in my place." Price sighs. "Can I do it from the base? Maybe I don't have to leave the compound."

"Reports say the files are heavily encrypted. It's the Russians, sergeant. We're not dealing with amateurs." He turns to Ghost emphasizing the last word. "You more than anyone should understand, Lieutenant."

"Not when you're bloody sending her to a suicide mission!"

"These are not my orders Simon! General Shepherd wants her! I tried to talk him out of it. I can't do much more, son." You swallow when Simon starts pacing around like a rabid dog, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is there any way I can do it? She can guide me through it the whole time..." he's back, leaning closer to his Captain. "I know I...-"

"Unless you know how to code and decrypt systems to perfection it can't be, Ghost. I'm sorry."

"It would only slow down the mission, get you caught. And in danger..." you reasoned, mumbling and staring down to your feet. There's no one else. Not even Jimmy. The one you had in mind.

Simon's mouth snapped shut.

His eyes are helpless when he connects them with yours. The realization of what's about to happen sinking in his core, he tried. He really did.

One long stride and he's embracing you, so tightly you think you'll suffocate; you hug him back, head resting right over where his heart beats frantically against his ribcage.

"I'm coming with her." He snarls. "Not Kyle, not Johnny. And certainly not someone from fucking KorTac." He turns to glare at Price with a death stare. "It'll be me, no one else."

-

"John's devastated." You tell him. Your back pressing against his hard chest. The water in the bathtub is warm, and smells like lavender and sandalwood. After the catastrophic meeting a few hours ago, Simon was too outraged to remain at the base so he drove both of you back to the safety of his apartment. You rest your head on his left shoulder, enjoying the delicate touch of his hands on your lower belly. He hums, almost absentmindedly. He didn't want to think about Price, or the mission for all that matters. All he can think of is you. He sighs, closing his eyes he presses a kiss on your hair.

"Bloody fucking bald cunt." He spits. You snort at his comment. Shepherd was a complicated man, and hardly one you could negotiate with once he had his mind set on something or someone.

"When do we have to...-"

"Tomorrow." Your lips are pressed into a thin line. "I'll be there no matter what, right next to you, love." He reassures you. You were never one to hesitate during missions but now... releasing a shaky breath you turn your head to look at Simon.

"I'm scared..." Simon's body goes rigid. The hand on your stomach halting. "It's not even for me, you know?" Swallowing your free hand reaches down to find his own, lacing your fingers with him. A muscle becoming prominent in his jaw as he grits his teeth.

"Nothing will happen to you. Bloody count on it, yeah? First shite I deem dangerous I'm pulling us out of there, understand?" You nod.

"Promise me you won't get hurt." There's a moment of silence that becomes unbearable the longer it extends. "Simon..." his eyes are fixated on yours, shining with what you can only describe as worship. The faintest of smiles spreads across his features.

"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart. Not for one second." Breathing deeply you pull him down for a kiss. It's slow and tender; makes you forget about all the difficulties you face. Biting down his lip, Simon takes it as a sign to further deepen the kiss. Tongues finding each other in a fight for dominance. "Don't wanna think about what tomorrow holds. I have you here right now. That's all I need."

-

Your mind goes back to the moments you and Simon shared last night. It was so simple, so real.

That's how things were supposed to be.

Easy.

Not heart wrenching, not stifling down a cry as you watch him get shot. A bullet that was aimed at you .Breaking in had been easy. Way too easy for your liking. But you thought that for once maybe a mission wouldn't be a pain in the ass. The hardest part was getting inside their systems; John was right. It was hellish even for you. It took more time than what you had anticipated. No one would've been able to pull it off.

"Whoever is behind this, they're good." You acknowledged as you type down the codes that will eventually get you in.

"Bloody brilliant you are, kid." Simon watches from the other side of the room, eyes scanning the hallway every now and then looking for any possible hostiles. You send him a coy smile.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll get no work done."

"How am I supposed to look at you then?" He asks

You don't answer because the screen in front of you suddenly shifts from 'Access denied' to 'Access granted'.

"Got you." You whisper. Simon stands straight. You plug your USB and start downloading all the information as well as setting a virus so their system gets permanently damaged.

"What is it?" He gruffly asks when the files finished downloading on your own device. Clearing your throat you try to ignore the horrible pictures you just took a glimpse of.

"Just... insanity." Is all you can say. A loud metallic sound echoes in the room, you never get to see the person behind you. Ghost's eyes widen and he barks an order your ears don't register, static fills your eardrums. The gunfire starts but lasts mere seconds. Crimson blood splutters from Simon's body.

You stand up, knocking down the chair as you jump out and run where Simon's injured body kneels. You fall down grabbing him by the face. The pain you're feeling deep inside has never been worse.

"I'm fine." He hisses. "Just my fucking shoulder."

As if that would make you feel better.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Your lips quiver. You run back to retrieve the small USB drive.

The body of a man lays down, a pool of blood forms around him. He was hiding behind you the entire time. Had Simon been distracted the outcome could've been atrocious. Yo don't dwell on it.

"Come on, baby." You urge him, crouching down to help Simon as much as you can to get him standing. His weight is just too much for you, you think, when he finally raised to his feet.

"S'okay love. Don't... don't overwork yourself. I'm too heavy, don't wanna get you hurt because of me."

Tears form in the corner of you eyes at such selfless act.

"You're the one who got hurt because of me, Simon." You stammer.

"So what? Would fucking die for you." You shake your head but keep close to him. Pressing down the wound on his shoulder as you head towards the exit. "Evac point is ten minutes away. We should be fine." The gun that rests on your thigh feels heavier than it should.

You're lucky, you guess as you walk away from the god forsaken building.

Lucky that you have him by your side, even when his blood stains your fingers. He's there, you're there and you're making it out alive. Wounded or not, Simon would never let anything happen to you, that's how deep his love for you was.

He wasn't like his dad at all.

He was real, caring, something not much people knew. Not in their lifetime.

The amount of blood he was losing was inhumane. An injured shoulder couldn't cause someone to lose this much blood, you ponder. Your black shirt feels sticky and damp, you take a quick glance and hold back a sob. Another gunshot wound, one he didn't care enough to tell you about and you didn't notice, too scared to even think.

Far in the distance between two big threes a black truck awaits. Johnny's face dropping when he noticed Ghost's decaying form. He rushes in your direction, taking him off of you, carrying his weight. He gives you a concerned look.

"Johnny..." you choke up. "We have to save him, please."

-

It's been the worst 48 hours of your life since you landed. He got two surgeries done in order to remove the fragments from inside his body. You were exhausted, barely ate or slept. It almost felt criminal, selfish, when your eyes started to close and finally gave in.

Then the nightmares came.

Ones where he didn't make it back and instead you had to leave him behind and never got to meet his child.

A warm feeling spreads from your skin. A faint touch. Are you still dreaming? His face erupts in your subconscious mind and you cry again. He's fine.

When you slowly open up your eyes you're met with blue eyes and a raspy voice.

"Don't neglect yourself for me, kid." You're speechless, the searing pain in your heart eases. He knows you so well. Knows you haven't left his side. "Takes more than a bullet to keep me away from you." When you don't move nor speak he continues, clearing his throat. "Come here, sweet thing."

There's a new wave of tears that fall mercilessly down your cheeks. You carefully climb up next to Simon's good side.

"Don't you ever scare me like that!" you weep. Sobbing uncontrollably Simon hushes you. Murmuring words of comfort in your ear. The anesthesia is still making him feel dizzy but that doesn't stop him from kissing every part of your face. Your hair, your forehead, your cheek and finally your lips.

"Let's leave this place for a while. Go on vacation while we still can..." you beg.

Simon's lips twitch. He's smiling down at you.

"What do you have in mind doll?"

You breathe deeply.

"Greece. I always wanted to go to Greece."

There's moments in life when you doubt you'll get a happy ending. Being with Simon at first was pure coincidence, something that had evolved from deep admiration and respect, which then turned into something more. It turned out to sleepless nights at the common room with the task force. Longing stares during briefings. Looking after each other during missions.

The training sessions together. Lending his massive leather jacket because you were always reluctant to bring your own. That one night he couldn't resist it anymore and went to your dorm. How you felt under his touch, oh he was touch starved when it came to you. And when he learned he was going to be a father, that moment would be ingrained into his memory until his very last day.

"Greece it is."

It's a promise.

TAGS:

@nijiru @illyanam1011

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod mw22 #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #call of duty ghost simon riley #john price x reader #soap mactavish x reader #cod simon riley #simon riley #cod simon ghost riley #simon riley x you

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Me U & Hennessy: Toman Founders x Fem Reader

♡ NSFW, vibes → smut, drug use (only weed) + hints at a blunt rotation, alcohol, established relationship for each scenario, public sex, bathroom sex, closet sex, unprotected sex + creampie, sex while intoxicated, oral (fem and male receiving), discreet thigh riding, thighjob, fingering, pet names + praise, and biting, this was unfortunately proofread and my eyes are killing me, buckle up because this is a long read ♡

note 1: This includes all of the Toman founders and is kinda different from what I normally write. I loved writing this (Baji’s part especially) and I'm super proud of how this turned out!

note 2: Huge thank you to @i-literally-cant-with-this for planting this idea in my head and offering help. Sarah I love you 😭🩷

note 3: This is the last note I swear and it's probably the most important one too…I HIT 100 FOLLOWERS AND 2500 LIKES 🥳 I love y'all so much 😭

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Playing cards, snacks, and shot glasses littered the living room table of Mitsuya’s apartment. It was the up and coming fashion designer’s turn to host Toman’s weekly get together and you all took advantage of it by having a smoke sesh. Draken pointed the blunt in your direction, you tried to hold your hand up in an attempt to decline but instinctively grabbed it instead. You were stoned out of your mind and kinda tipsy off a couple shots of henny, so it was probably a good idea to pass it to Mitsuya.

Smoke crowded the room, forcing Baji to open the window. “Baji close the window, it's freezing man!” Kazutora whined while curling up on the couch next to you. “I’m tryna air the room out dipshit! Go get a blanket if you’re cold!” “You two argue like a goddamn married couple.” Draken intervened, chuckling with Mitsuya (who was actively coughing his lungs up). This is essentially how every smoke sesh with them went. Baji and Kazutora arguing, Draken and Mitsuya laughing at everything like two schoolgirls, Mikey raiding the kitchen every five minutes, and Pah-Chin being super quiet and just absorbing the chaos going on around him. Me U & Hennessy by DeJ Loaf blasted in the background, filling your head with unholy thoughts and your inebriation only elevated your desire to fuck. And it most certainly didn’t go unnoticed.

Mikey 💠

As Mikey walked back into the living room his eyes landed on you, noticing the way your breathing became heavy. He walked over to the couch and asked if you wanted to go outside for some fresh air, seemingly oblivious to the way your eyes were devouring him. You two slid out the front door of Mitsuya’s apartment, making your way outside and behind the apartment's staircase. Mikey immediately broke the silence before you could say anything. “So what’s bothering you?” “Nothing’s-” “Shut it! I know you better than that, it’s so obvious that you’re soaked right now.”

You couldn’t even argue with him, he was right for once. “You wanna get fucked right? Prove how bad you want it then.” On instinct you got on your knees as Mikey unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants. He tapped the tip of his dick on your outstretched tongue before slipping the entirety of his length in your mouth. He paused when he felt you gag around him, giving you a moment to adjust to the fullness you felt in your throat. “You look so pretty when you’re choking on my dick ♡” The praise combined with the dirtiness of his words invigorated you, pushing past the slight pain in your throat you started bobbing your head. When you could tell when he was close you started to speed up and pay extra attention to his tip, swirling your tongue around it and leaving kisses on it. “Fuck that’s it, just like that princess~” You quickly slipped him back in your mouth before he came, desperate to feel his hot load go down your throat. He gripped the back of your neck as he came, grunting and praising you all the while. “You better be ready to get fucked when we get home princess, I’m gonna be inbetween your legs all night ♡”

Draken 🐉

After almost laughing himself to death with Mitsuya, Draken noticed the way you shifted on the couch. The way your thighs rubbed together in discomfort. “Hey y/n, you okay? Need me to walk you to the bathroom?” He asked, a playful tone in his voice. “Yeah I actually do.” You got up and followed Draken’s lead into the narrow hallway, stopping at a door that most definitely wasn’t the bathroom. “This isn’t the bathroom.” Draken opened the door to what looked like a supply closet. “Why would I take you to the bathroom if I know that's not what you need right now?” He walked in the closet, beckoning you to follow him. Normally you’d refuse, especially since you were in Mitsuya’s house, but he was just so tempting. You walked into the closet, closing and locking the door behind you.

Before you knew it you two were undressed and he had you bent over with your hands gripping a shelf. His thick cock stretching your tight little pussy with each thrust. If it wasn’t for you biting your lip, your moans would be heard citywide. “So fucking tight, feel so good wrapped around me.” “Faster~” “Oh yea? You want it faster darling? I'll give it to you as fast as you want ♡” Lewd noises filled the closet as Draken pounded into you, hands squeezing your hips tighter and tighter until he finally filled you up. He stayed inside you, not wanting a single drop of his cum to leak out of your cunt. “Let's just stay like this for a while, okay babydoll?”

Baji 🔥

“Baji close the damn windows!” Kazutora yelled at him for the tenth time in a row. “Okay fine, I’ll close the damn windows!” Baji yelled back, annoyed about having to get up again to close the windows he just opened. As he finished closing the windows he turned to Kazutora. “There you happy now?” “Very happy, thank you.” You could hear Baji mumble under his breath as he walked towards the glass door of Mitsuya’s balcony. “I’m gonna go get some air.” He stated, as if anyone other than you were listening. After a few minutes you got up from the couch to join him on the balcony, which probably wasn’t the safest thing considering you just consumed alcohol not that long ago. Baji looked in your direction as you stepped out onto the balcony.

“Hey cutie! Decided to join me?” You nodded in agreement, blushing at the pet name. “Come here pretty girl, lemme hold you.” You walked over to the railing of the balcony, letting him wrap his strong arms around your waist. The cool night air felt so good on your warm skin, but what felt even better was Baji’s hands roaming your body. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how warm you are?” His hands slid down to undo your pants. “I remember you mentioning how you’ve always wanted to fuck on a balcony.” “Baji…I wasn’t being serious. I was probably drunk when I said it anyway.” He leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Nah, you were dead sober, so I know it wasn’t the henny talking. Lemme fuck those pretty thighs~” He softly bit into your neck as he slid your pants and panties down far enough for him to comfortably slide inbetween your thighs.

“You’re so fucking warm baby, dripping wet too. You been waiting for this haven’t you?” You could only nod in agreement as his girthy cock slid between your thighs, going back and forth across your soaking wet pussy. The tip of his dick brushing up against your clit, sending shivers down your spine. You were so fucked out and he didn't even put it in. You never even considered that the rest of the guys might see you two, or the fact that you were literally outside. But that didn't matter, not when Baji was biting on your neck and shoulder, nibbling on your ear, and telling you how good you felt. “You feel so good, taste good too. Just can't get enough of you.” Baji’s thrusts started to become sloppier, but he quickly composed himself because he knew exactly what he wanted. He slid his hand between your legs, playing with your clit while he slowly rubbed his cock between your slick folds. As you gushed all over his length, he slipped inside you, filling your pussy with his cum and keeping you warmer than a shot of Henny ever could.

Kazutora 🐅

As Baji proceeded to ignore his complaints about the cold air from the windows, Kazutora decided to actually follow his advice and try to find a blanket. “Hey y/n, come with me to find a blanket real quick?” You two made your way through the hallway, checking closets filled with fabrics and sewing equipment. Kazutora stumbled upon the bathroom and decided to go through the cabinet under the sink. “Kazutora I don't think there's any blankets under there.” You giggled while sitting down on the edge of the tub. “Well duh, I know that. I'm just snooping around a little.” After finding nothing of interest he closed the cabinet, turning his attention to you.

He walked over and crouched down in front of you, laying his head on your thighs. He whimpered underneath you as your fingers gently ran through his hair. “Lemme taste you angel~” He mumbled into your thighs. You didn’t even get a chance to respond before he started taking off your pants, desperate to get a taste of you. “Tora slow down, you act like I’m gonna slip through your fingers.” His muffled response reverberated through your body as he buried his face between your legs, leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He practically started drooling when he slid your panties off, taking a moment to admire your pretty pussy before grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer. His tongue circled your clit, sliding between your wet folds to gather as much of your juices on his tongue as he could. He didn’t even bother to praise you, he was far too invested in devouring you to pull away. As the heat in your body built up you gripped his hair, grinding your pussy on his face. His grip on your thighs loosened, allowing you to squeeze his head in between them, letting himself become engulfed in your drenched cunt.

Pah-Chin 🔷

The heat growing between your legs started to become unbearable, prompting you to head to the kitchen for some water to cool you off and maybe sober you up a little. As you chugged a bottle of water you felt a pair of strong hands grip your waist, almost making you choke on the water. You looked back only to be greeted by Pah’s face, his head resting on your shoulder. “Jeez Pah, you scared the hell outta me! Do you need something?” “No, but I can tell that you do.” His hand slid from your waist to the waistband of your pants as he placed delicate kisses on your neck. “Really, in the kitchen of all places? The guys might see us!” “It’s fine baby, just trust me.”

He unbuttoned your pants and slid his calloused hand into your underwear, circling your clit with his middle finger. “You’re so fucking wet for me, lemme take care of you.” His thick fingers worked their way inside you, stretching you out. It was so hard to stay quiet as his fingers went in and out, curling into you and hitting every spot you liked. “You close sugar? I'm not stopping til you cream on my fingers ♡” He didn't have to wait long, as the knot in your stomach unraveled and you finished all over his fingers. Not even a full minute later, with his hand still in your pants, he was asking for more. “You think you can gimme another one baby?”

Mitsuya 🪻

As the smoke in the room started to clear, Mitsuya looked over at you. His eyes scanned every inch of your body, mesmerized by you. He didn’t know if it was the weed heightening his senses or if you’ve always looked as attractive as you did now, and he couldn’t care less. He just wanted you, needed to feel your warmth against him. “Hey love, why don’t you come sit on my lap?” The tone in his voice was so sweet and inviting, how could you deny him? You got up from your place on the couch and positioned yourself on his lap, eventually shifting to just sitting on one of his thighs. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close and kissing your shoulder.

He leaned in and whispered in your ear. “I want you to use me to get off ♡” “Taka, not now we-” Mitsuya held his finger against your lips, politely signaling you to shut up. “It’s okay love, I’ll be discreet. Just be as quiet as you can, okay?” You nodded, relaxing in his grip as he slowly rocked your hips back and forth. The music playing from Draken’s bluetooth speaker blared throughout the room, masking the small whimpers you made as Mitsuya put more force on your hips, increasing the friction between his thigh and your clothed cunt. “Go ahead and cum for me pretty baby ♡” You bit your lip to conceal the moan that threatened to spill from your mouth as you came, leaving your panties a soaked mess. “Wanna continue this in my room sweetheart?”

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel , @trevengersprincess , @happy-trenchcoated-impala , @giugiette

#tokyo revengers smut #draken smut #kazutora smut #baji smut #mikey sano smut #pah chin smut #mitsuya smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x reader smut

[bean-bean2000]

The Maid - Part 3

Pairing: Loki x reader (on going series)

Warnings: Angst, abuse, mental health (depression, mentions of suicidal thoughts). Eventual loki x reader pairing. Reader is a maid.

Please read at your own risk. Your own media consumption is not my responsibility. Please read and review the warnings before proceeding.

Thank you and enjoy!

Part 2 Series masterlist Main Masterlist

You return to the maid's quarters, shaking in disbelief at your interaction with the king.

I just lied to his face. I'm such an idiot. Will he change his mind and punish me? Why was he so nice to me if he sends his guards to beat me almost daily? Why did he look concerned when he saw my injuries? Is this some cruel manipulative twisted joke so he can trap me into trusting him, just so he can rip my trust for him into pieces? To finally break me like the guards say they will?

Your mind is racing; confused, angry, hurt. You say nothing to the other maids when you return to your cot. If they are to know you spoke to the king, rumours will spread.

You decide you can't risk it, you have to request a change of duties.

You rush to the man in charge of separating the help's duties amongst the castle.

You bow your head and curtsy when you approach him "Good evening, sir. I am here to place a request, if possible." you say quietly, staring at the floor.

He says nothing so you decide to continue "I would like to change duties. I believe the king is no longer fond of my work, nor my presence and think a change would be best to appease his anger."

"Very well. I doubt he will notice the change anyway. You are quiet and forgettable. You will be placed on the rotation team. You will work multiple different duties at my discretion. You may leave now." he says to you coldly.

You thank him quckly and return to your chambers.

He's right. He won't even notice I'm gone. This is for the best, I must avoid him at all costs to stay alive. Stay quiet, do as they say and stay small. It's the only way I'll survive.

Over the next two weeks you successfully avoid all contact with the king. You're continuously rotating duties from maid, to kitchen staff, to laundry and you're body is aching from the physical exertion. The abuse from the guards subdued but did not stop from the Snake. He would search for you exclusively and insist it was at kings personal request. He did everything he could to try to break you, but you repeated the same words "Never". Sometimes you would fight back and other times you would simply take it so it could be over with faster, but one thing you made sure of is that he never touched you. You would go feral at the mention of it.

Yesterday, the Snake went too far and tried holding you down to 'teach you a lesson', you screamed and swung your hands as you scratched his face from his eyebrow to his lip so deeply he was bleeding profusely all over his bedroom floor. You took your upper hand to your advantage and threatened him " I can take your abuse, you will not break me and I will die before I let you touch me. Next time, I will scratch your eyes out." you hissed at him. He screamed for the other guards as he swung at you but you side stepped and tried running out but was caught by the other guards.

"Now, you will see what the king truly thinks of you once he discovers what you've done, witch. He will not be as merciful as I was. Bring her to the dungeons." he spits at you as you're dragged away.

You're thrown to the damp stone floor covered in hay, scratching your palms and knees as you roll on the floor.

"This is where you belong, witch." One of them says as the door locks behind you.

You hear their laughter fade as they walk away. The cell is disgustingly dirty, there is only a small space with bars that acts as a window. Besides the moonlight, you're left in complete darkness, the only sound to occupy your mind is the squeaks of the mice running around. You bring your knees to your chest and begin crying "What have I done? Why didn't I just let him do what he wanted? I wouldn't be here... At least I would have a chance at life... now I'm as good as dead" you cry to yourself.

The next day you're woken abruptly and dragged outside. Your hand are tied to a post and they rip open the back of your shirt.

Your heart races as you realize what is happening. You hear the Snake laugh and then the searing pain of the whip across your back.

You scream out in pain and dig your nails into the post to ground yourself.

"So the whore can scream afterall. Let's see how loud she can be. You've been holding out on me." the Snake mocks you.

This continued 10 times. For everyday the nurse said he would need to heal from the wound you created in his eye.

They drag you away and throw you back onto the dungeon floor. Bleeding profusely from your back, unable to move from the pain, you curly yourself into a ball and beg for death to take you.

You awake to a nurse tending to your back. You both stay quiet as she puts the familiar balm to your back and wraps your wounds to prevent infection.

Two days pass, no guards have come to bring you food or water. You're famished and parched. Your back is in continuous searing pain, your breathing has become more shallow every day. You're in such pain, you try to force yourself to sleep to avoid the pain. Eventually, you pass out. You're awakened by the sound of a crow squawking and the sun shining on you.

You look up and see the bird standing at the makeshift window, in between the bars. It crows a few times before turning around and flying away.

Even the birds don't want to be near me.

You hear heavy footsteps approach your cell when the Snake opens the door "Learned you lesson yet, witch? Get up, you reek. Bathe and get ready for work tomorrow. Maybe this will make you think twice before fighting me." he sneers at you.

You struggle to get up so he grabs you by the arm and yanks you to your feet making you shriek in pain from the deep cuts in your back.

"Shut up, harlot. Get out of my face." he spits at you.

You slowly walk out of the dungeons and back to the maids quarters. You're so weak, you collapse on your cot and pass out when you arrive.

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You awoke before dawn, bathing to ease the pain. The nurse helps apply the balm to your back and wrap the wounds once more. You look at yourself in the mirror. Your left eye is severely bruised, you look exhausted and in pain.

Today you're placed on kitchen duty. You're slowly walking to the kitchen, when you see a crow fly overhead and land nearby on a statue.

A crow, again? ... Is it staring at me?

You shake your head in dismissal and you near the kitchen. You were to prep everything for the breakfast run before the cooks arrived.

You were deep in thought and humming to yourself while cutting vegetables and boiling some water to make yourself a coffee that you didn't notice somebody walk in behind you.

"Where have you been?" a familiar voice cuts through the silence. You yelp in surprise and cut your finger with the knife. You hiss in pain and rush to place a towel over it to stop the bleeding.

"Sorry darling, l keep frightening you." He approaches you but you back up in fear, your back hitting the kitchen counter. You groan out loud at the pain from your back hitting the counter. He stops and looks at you with hurt and confusion.

You keep your down "It's okay your highness. I'm fine." you say quietly.

He sighs "I've been looking for you."

Your eyes widen at that statement. Oh my god, he's going to kill me, just like the Snake said he would.

"Why were you replaced as my maid? I made no such request. I was very content with your work. Are you avoiding your king?" he presses on.

"Your highness, please. I will do as he says. I will not fight him next time. I beg you to please forgive me and spare my life. I was stupid, it was done in fear. I will never do it again!" you beg, your eyes brimming with tears. You're shaking, straining to breathe properly with the pain coursing through your entire body.

"What none sense do you speak of? Where were you?." he asks again, more urgently. It sounded more like a command than a question.

You bite your lip hard, making it bleed.

"My king...I don't... you ordered the guards..." you're unable to form a sentence through the fear shaking through you.

His eyes narrow and he inspects you and tries to make sense of the words you're hiccuping out.

"Who did I order to do what?" he asks you, his voice rising with anger.

I can't tell him. This is a trick. It was his orders. He knows, he wants to see if I will question his orders.

You take in a deep breath and steady yourself, stopping the tears from falling down your face.

If I avoid his question about the guards, I won't be lying to him.

"I requested a change of duties, your highness." you blurt out.

He looks taken aback "Why? Did I make you uncomfortable? Do you fear me?"

You're confused by his line of questions "No, your highness... I -"

"You're lying. I will give you one last chance." he says sternly.

You swallow thickly, your anger and frustration from the past months of mistreatment bubbles up inside. A sudden burst of confidence, you look up at stare at him. You notice his shock when he sees the damage to your face.

"No, your highness you did not make me uncomfortable. I have received your messages daily from the guards, and the whipping you ordered I received. I have heard the rumours and they ring true. You cannot blame me for fearing you."

"Whipping? Rumours? What -" Loki begins but is interrupted by the cooks entering the kitchen to start the day. His eyes fall to the bandages he can see at the bottom of your shirt, wrapping up and around your back. You see his eyes darken and his fists clench at his sides.

They freeze when they see the king speaking to you.

"Sorry your highness, we will -" one of the cooks begins.

"No. I will be taking my leave. There is something I must tend to."

He quickly exits the kitchen and the cooks stare at you in confusion. You dismiss their looks and return to your duties.

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Part 4

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Feedback is always welcome. Feel free to send me suggestions for scenes/drabbles that I could add into the stroy :)

Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!

@gruftiela

@elegantcheesecakecrown

@chxco-hyujin

@cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson

@i-am-amora-the-enchantress

#fanfic #marvel #bucky barnes #captain america #bucky x reader #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #steve x reader #tony stark #tony x reader #king loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #thor x reader #thor #thor odinson

[streamingcolors-gvf]

Skin Deep - Part 2

Moodboard created by @jakekiszkasleftnutsack

Shout out to @kiszkasun for providing tattoo edits of the boys 🖤

@pennylanefics for the beautiful tatt!jake moodboard that sparked the idea.

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!reader x Jake Kiszka

Warnings: cursing, sexually explicit content - MINORS DNI!! (Oral m!receiving, fingering, hand stuff - m!recieving, dirty talk, praise kink, spit kink, super light choking if you squint, biting)

A/N: This has become a twin series (smut with both of them for those unaware, so if this isn’t your thing, keep scrolling) , and I found that I had to break up some of the chapters due to the size of the fic. So I don’t want Jake girlies coming after me. There will be plenty of Jake interactions coming up. I PROMISE. Feedback and your support is always appreciated. Hope y’all enjoy this installment 🖤

Thank you @asparrowofthedawn for all the Pinterest diving, daily support and inspo for this fic. It doesn’t go unappreciated. Also a thank you to @capturethechaos for letting me bug them with my rambling thoughts and updates on this story.

Masterpost, Part 1

The first thing you realize when you pry your eyelids apart, is that you’re not in your bedroom. The luxury cotton blend of high-thread count sheets brushing up against your cheek aren’t the ones fitted across your mattress. The mustard-yellow painted wall isn’t one you recognize, and the soft light filtering in through the windows doesn’t happen at home. You blink away your blurred vision until it comes into focus, finally seeing the vintage movie posters decorating the room.

As you’re slowly dragged into consciousness, you hear the faint sounds of snoring beside you. It startles you at first, making you turn abruptly to prop yourself up on your elbow. You realize it’s Josh facing away from you, laying across his stomach. He’s still sleeping soundly, face hidden and tucked away into the crook of his elbow.

The memories of the night prior flood your mind, and the shock of what transpired runs through your body, making you huff out a breath of disbelief. Reeling from it, you take the moment of peace to look around his room, something that felt rather intimate despite everything that has already happened between you.

 A wooden artist desk sits in the corner, locked in an upright position with sheets of toned paper taped to its surface. On the shelves above it, metal tins sit filled with a collection of pens, paintbrushes and markers. A large tapestry is tacked to the wall on the far side. Exotic potted plants are scattered around the room, resting on shelves, onto the floor and even hanging from the ceiling — giving the space a sense of life. 

Soon, your eyes find Josh again. The blanket is draped across his waist, giving you the view of his bare back for the first time. Most of Josh’s body is touched by ink, but the expansive piece captures your attention as he takes in the steady breaths of slumber. Starting in the center of his spine, the floral mandala spreads out into two massive lotus flowers on each shoulder blade. You reach out, tracing his warm skin with a feather-light touch of your fingers along the bold linework of each petal. It’s ambitious, still unfinished with only a fraction of the design filled with the rich, vibrant colors. 

Pitched hums vibrate in his chest as he starts to stir when your fingertips travel between his shoulders and up to where the tattoo ends at the nape of his neck. You quickly retreat your hand to your chest when he stretches and rotates onto his back. A heavy sigh leaves him, and for a second you think he might be awake, but the way his mouth parts with a hushed snore tells you otherwise.

His tousled curls have lost their shape, falling over his brow with his head buried into the pillow. Long lashes kiss the high point of his cheeks that have been painted pink with the spring sun. 

You have never been in denial about how attractive you found him. Now, as you look upon him in his purest and most vulnerable form, you can truly appreciate his beauty. Even to the tiny scar beside his mouth or the one nicked below his left brow — tiny imperfections that tell a story for a moment in time. 

Maybe you’re still riding on the wave of impulsivity that led you to this predicament in the first place when you lean into him. The kiss you place below his ear is what makes his arm slip around your back to pull you in tighter. The tip of your nose brushes against the crushed-velvet of his buzzed hair, ticking you in the process. A sleep laden groan rumbles in his throat, vibrating against your lips while you explore the sharp line of his jaw. The late morning light peeking through the blinds catches the wet marks you’re leaving across the tattoos covering his neck. You let the tip of your tongue follow the lines of the petals, breathing him in as if you could smell the sweet scent of the inked peonies. The feeling of your mouth brings him a step closer to consciousness, eliciting a heavy sigh from his chest. 

Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, you trail your hand down his bare, tattooed chest, passing over your fingers over the sparrows and bed of poppies. The muscles of his stomach quiver from your sensual touch, making his hips shift against the mattress. You’re expecting the waistband of at least a pair of underwear, but instead, you feel the trimmed patch of hair when you slip your fingers beneath the blanket. 

He’s warm and soft cupped in your hand. You’re gentle with your touch, keeping him safe as you guide him into a state of wakefulness. A shudder rolls through him with a moan that cracks through the thick air settling in his bedroom. His fingertips press into your side, and you feel him harden in your palm with every steady beat of his heart. 

You notice the lustful scent of sex still lingering on him as you place another heady kiss to his collarbone, quickly giving into the urge to bite along the thin, delicate skin. His hand slides up your back and through your hair, wrapping around the nape of your neck, and gives it a firm squeeze with his fingers as your teeth graze across him.

His back arches up from the bed once your tongue creates a path down to his nipple, following it with a louder groan when you flick across it. 

“Morning.” The dreamy crackle of this voice delivered to you in a heavy sigh makes your elbows weak as you crawl down his body. Your eyes flick up to see him squinting through barely-open lids right before he rubs the sleep from his lashes with the heel of his palm. 

You blow a stream of cool air through pursed lips, watching it harden instantly. A breathy whine falls from his open mouth as he writhes beneath you, bucking his hips to drive himself through your hand in an act of impatience. He’s no longer dormant, twitching in the loose grasp of your fingers as he stiffens with each passing second.

“Good morning,” you hum through your open-kisses down his sternum. You nip at the soft flesh of his belly below his navel with a deliberate pump of your fist over his length. 

Within the short amount of time spent with him, you are starting to think nothing about this man could surprise you. However, you’re proven wrong when you pull the duvet away from his stomach and discover something peculiar that catches your eye, making you pause the movement of your hand. The permanent illustration you find yourself studying for longer than you’d admit, is a pair of cherries placed a few inches from the base of him — a hidden treasure below his waist, tucked between the divot of his hip and where you were about to place your lips. Two green leaves sprout from the stem, and its vivid shade of red shines in the illustrator’s choice to dip them in a glaze of sticky syrup that runs down the round edge of the fruit in three seductive drips. A banner ribbon wraps around the middle of them, taunting you with the words ‘Bite Me’ in bold font.

You huff a laugh of shock as your fingers feel over the smooth skin. “This has got to be the sluttiest thing about you.”

He’s peering down at you through drowsy lids, his arm now bent behind his head with a smug grin plastered across his stupidly handsome face. He draws in his bottom lip between his teeth before he asks in a raspy tone that makes your chest tighten, “You like it?”

My god, you do. 

You’re not willing to reveal your hand to him just yet, so you deflect with a question of your own. “Who gave you this?”

Laughter suddenly breaks free into the quiet room, the sound throaty and heavy when it hits your ears. “I don’t kiss and tell, baby.”

You allow your mind to wander with the thoughts of him getting it, picturing how he might’ve been in a similar position to the one you were in last night. You imagine how he looked with the band of his pants pulled down just enough as the strokes of the needle made contact with the sensitive skin. Something about this tattoo in particular has a feminine touch, and you can’t help the pang of slight jealousy hitting your chest and curiosity from entering your mind. 

Even though your weak attempt at a bluff is starting to crumble, you stay vigilant with a purposeful click of your tongue. “Pity.” 

Before he’s able to respond with a witty remark, you roll your tongue across the tattoo as if there really was sweet juice from the cherries that could wet your taste buds. An almost feline-like purr rumbles in his throat as you lick your way to the other side. His fingers brush your hand that you’ve draped across his stomach before reaching up to touch your hair. 

You suck at the tender skin while slowly stroking him. The lapping of your tongue and nipping of your teeth, paired with the deliciously slow flick of your wrist, causes his fingers to leave you.

A whispered curse flutters from his lips, but your eyes remain closed while you keep your mouth sealed around him. A sharp hiss through his teeth  transforms into a moan of pleasure as the familiar blushed splotches of your own cherry-sized love-mark form on the surface. 

“Something to remember me by,” you whisper in admiration as you catch your breath and wipe the string of saliva from your lip. 

A sighed hum breaks into giggles. “I don’t think I’m ever forgetting you.”

The thought makes you blush and a wave of heat rises from your belly to your chest, but you decide that exploring the new influx of feelings he has created for you would have to wait another time. 

“So, being the better-looking twin, I have the nicer dick, ri- oh…” He trails off, falling into a sort-of trance from your casting spell, staring at the bead of spit dribble from your bottom lip. It falls onto the pretty pink head – a lovely shade that matches the one of his lips —and starts to drip down before you swipe it across with your thumb. 

Now slick from your mouth, you slide your hand around his length with a rolling twist of your wrist. A violent shudder rolls through him as the mumbled praise leaves his mouth, “Fuck…that’s so good. Just like that.”

You tease him like this through a few deliberate strokes until you decide to bring your lips to him. A devilish grin curls at the upturned corners of his lips with brazen confidence brimming through each word. “You gonna suck my cock, baby?”

You flash him a coy smile, but otherwise stay silent to let your actions do the talking for you. He watches your every move, but can barely contain the broken whimper within his clamped mouth when you finally lick that blissful spot beneath the tip. You’re making sure to keep your eyes locked on him as you push him inch-by-inch along your flattened tongue. It’s obvious he’s fighting the temptation to close them, but the way his dark brows pull together and how his mouth parts through panting breaths tells you everything you need to know. 

Just when he expects you to stop, you don’t. Instead, you keep nudging him farther and farther until he hits the back of your throat and the tip of your nose brushes ever-so-slightly against the trimmed hair.

You have to suppress the gag threatening to creep up with deep breaths while allowing your eyes to finally close. He’s pressing himself past the point of your limit, throbbing desperately in the wet warmth of your mouth. You pause for a few moments, letting him soak in the consuming feeling of his cock nestled as deep as it can go. Lifting your head from him, you lick up the streams of drool that have leaked past your lips, cleaning him in a less-than-subtle act of depravity. He takes in the sight of your little show, groaning through clenched teeth, “Holy shit. That feels fucking amazing.”

Your thighs clench in an aching need from the sound of his deeper voice. You swirl your tongue around the head in a changing pattern of circles, tasting him as if he’s a lollipop that shares the same sugary-sweet flavor of those cherries. He sucks in a sharp breath, and a praise hits your ears through a strangled moan, “Yes…yes, baby, oh my god!”

A glance up through your lashes gives you the chance to see him throwing his hands back into the flattened mess of curls buried into the pillow. You stare, fixating on the way the muscles in his arms flex and how his chest rises and falls rapidly from ragged breaths. Something catches your eye, and you realize it’s the light reflecting off the tiny metal ball of his tongue ring swiping across his lip. His eyelids are clamping hard enough to form a small crease between his brows as his open mouth creates a perfect “O” shape. “Oh god…” 

The rhythmic bobbing of your head is sloppy, and the borderline-pornographic sounds echoing around the walls of his room would have been more-than shameful to anyone else but the two of you. You find that you have to wrap your hand around what your mouth can’t quite reach, just like you had done with Jake the night before. A ragged cry catches in the back of his throat, but he quickly clears the noise with a forceful grunt, “Fucking…Christ!”

You know he’s teetering on the very edge by the way his stomach muscles are flexing from the rapid build of his orgasm. The slippery pop! of him from your lips yanks his focus back to you in a heartbeat, and the lust-drunken daze swirling in his blown-out pupils makes you giggle for a moment. Although, his eyes don’t stay locked on you for more than a few seconds as they flit behind heavy lids while you continue to pump a tight fist around him. 

The delightful squeeze of your fingers around the swollen tip with each upward stroke of your wrist is dancing the line of pleasure and torture for him. He doesn’t dare complain, but the agonizing pace you're choosing causes a sheen of sweat to form on his bare chest that’s now heaving up and down like broken bellows. 

He taps your arm in a panic to signal defeat, accepting the complete loss of control. His strained voice is breathless, cracking through tightened vocal cords across a dry tongue, “I can’t…I-I’m gonna cum, baby.”

Not wanting to waste another second, you take him back into the silken feeling of your mouth, enveloping him in its addicting warmth. The way his cock twitches, hardening past the point you thought was physically possible, reveals that his words are nothing but the truth. You’re determined to drive him as deep as he can go with a purposeful flick of your tongue along the base. It doesn’t take longer than a few seconds for his shaky fingers to wrap around your wrist as he succumbs to the tidal wave of his release. If there was any doubt whether his brother could hear you both before, it’s gone now with Josh crying out his mantra of profanities. With a faltering lift of his hips, the heat of his come hits the back of your throat with a force you don’t expect, making it spasm through every swallow. You drink every last drop of him down without question until he’s on the brink of overstimulation. 

You pepper kisses the raised point of his hip as he comes down from his euphoric high. The whimpered exhales bubble into giggles as he wipes the hair back from his sweaty brow. He props himself up on an elbow, and looks down at you with that grin plastered across his flushed face. 

He huffs an exaggerated breath, “Okay, I’m a little upset Jake experienced that first.”

You roll your eyes in feigned disapproval, “You can’t be serious.”

“C’mere.” He reaches forward to grab your wrist, guiding you onto his lap as he starts to sit up on the bed. You’re both careful in your movements with the fresh tattoo on your leg.

 Despite the soreness of your thigh, you settle into the position with a natural ease, taking his face into your cupped palms. The apples of his cheeks are blushing a rosy hue, radiating with a unique glow that could only come from a post-sex haze. Something else grabs your attention when he yawns, and for a second you doubt yourself. You know it's not your mind playing tricks when he wipes his fingers across his mouth, and you’re able to see it for the second time. Acting out of pure impulse, you grasp his bottom lip between your thumb and finger to get a better look.

 There it is.

 A badly faded tattoo inked into the pink flesh of his inner lip. You think you’re mistaken at first, so you blink a few times and squint to make sure you’re reading the letters correctly. Despite the arguably poor line work, you can still make out the bold lettering ‘PU$$Y”. 

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” you scoff in disbelief, but before you can release his lip, he pretends to bite at your fingers until you swat him away. 

His hands are roaming freely over your ass and up your back when pouts out the lip in question. “What? You don’t like that one?”

“I think I stand corrected. That is probably the sluttiest thing about you.” Snorting a laugh, you rub the muscles of his shoulders until your arms cross behind his neck.

He sighs at the satisfying feeling of your nails lightly scratching his scalp. “I was actually looking to get it removed here soon.” His eyes flutter closed as he cranes his neck back, similar to a cat leaning into a hand to be petted. “I can’t say it's my proudest moment.”

Withdrawing your hands from his hair, you ask out of curiosity, “So what’s the story behind this one?”

You swear you see embarrassment flash across his features from how he chews at his lip. “Ah well, besides being nineteen, alone with a bottle of tequila and access to a tattoo machine? I’m afraid there’s not much more to the tale than that.”

You would’ve laughed if it wasn’t for the barely-detectable shift in his mood, and guilt starts to stir in your gut from fear that you’ve struck a nerve with the topic. You brush your fingertips across his slightly-downturned mouth, asking in a hushed voice, “You did it yourself?”

He hums his answer, smiling from your affectionate touch, but his eyes remain focused on his hands that are busy caressing up your sides. Maybe he’s distracting himself, or even you, when he cups your breasts, giving them a playful squeeze in the palms.

You whine at the feeling, and squirm in his lap as you stroke the trimmed hair of his mustache with your index finger, humming in thought. “Ya’know, I think you should shave this.”

He chuckles, sending the warm, airy laughter across your chest. “Why? Don’t like that either?”

“No! No, I do,” you insist in a too-loud voice, and the kiss placed on your collarbone nearly made the next thought disintegrate on your tongue. “But I also think it’s a shame to cover up your beautiful lips. A clean-shaven look would suit you.”

“Hmmm. I might have to consider that.” He draws the tip of his nose up the column of your extended throat, breathing you in through a deep inhale. “Might make up for the shitty lip tattoo.”

You’re putty in his hands, forgetting where you are, or even what day it is when he kisses up your neck as he roams across the contour of your ass and between your legs. You groan in response, “Maybe there’s nothing wrong with stating your favorite meal.” 

His response to your sentiment is a heavy breath that verges on the edge of a growl hitting your throat. His hands quickly find their place around your waist to rock you forward enough to feel his cock twitch and harden beneath you, making you giggle in shock, “Already?”

He scoffs, pulling away just far enough to give you a view of his face, “I'm sorry. I wasn’t aware that your expectations of me included not getting hard when you sit naked on my dick.”

That look he’s giving you. The same one you saw the first day you met him. It’s the one that could sell you on anything he desired. 

You only roll your eyes in response before glancing at the nightstand in search of your phone. “What time is it?”

“Hmm… I dunno. But for some reason I don’t care,” he sighs with an unbothered lilt in his voice, and tries to bring you in for a kiss, but you pull away before his lips touch yours. 

He rips his head away, brows raised at you in disbelief, huffing a sharp puff of air through his nose. “I’m offended.”

“Well, I’m sorry to offend, but I really have to brush my teeth, and I’m in desperate need of a shower.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll let it slip just this once because that’s not a bad idea. I’m sure there’s a pack of toothbrushes in the bathroom somewhere.” A mischievous grin forms on his face.“ And I’m never one to turn down a shower with a beautiful woman.”

You slide off his lap and off the edge of the bed, and throw a quip over your shoulder, “Who says you’re joining?”

The sharp smack of his hand to your ass elicits a high-pitched squeak from your throat while sending you forward in the direction of his door.  You pad across the wooden floor — barefoot and naked — to exit his bedroom and walk into the hall. Not remembering much from the night before, the layout of their house is foreign to you. There is a closed door across from Josh’s, which you’re quick to remember is Jake’s, but as you turn left to wander in search for the bathroom, you see an open door. 

You flip on the switch, and take in the sight when your eyes adjust to the new lighting. You were in here at one point in the night, but the little details of the space were the last thing on your mind given the circumstances. Now, in the light of day and a clearer conscience, you’re able to absorb everything more clearly.

To your left is a modern style black vanity with two white, porcelain basins resting on its surface. Across from you is a massive walk-in shower encased in glass walls. Golden bathroom fixtures contrast the almost-black, gray hexagonal tile work that lines the inside of the shower. 

You slowly venture in, feeling the cool tile beneath your bare feet as you make your way to the large mirror. You’re startled by your reflection, scanning over the vast collection of hickies and love marks that are scattered across your skin in an array of shapes, sizes and colors. Spreading the bruised flesh with your fingertips to gauge the damage, you can’t even begin to map out which ones are left by Josh and where Jake’s begin. 

Josh enters the bathroom a few seconds later, and your eyes are instantly drawn to his image in the mirror. He’s clearly comfortable with his own nakedness, shuffling behind you, still-half hard as he rummages around the drawer in search of the spare toothbrush. You turn away, blushing awkwardly at the sight, even though you just had him in your mouth minutes ago. Something about the action felt rather domestic for only knowing him for such a short amount of time. 

He offers a basic, standard-issue toothbrush he pulled from the torn plastic packaging. Plucking it from his fingers, you let the sarcastic comment slip, “A stash of toothbrushes for all your guests?” 

Your criticism comes out harsher than you intend, causing him to take a step back in order to look you over. He tilts his head, showing the genuine confusion pulling his brows together. He takes a few seconds to process your words until a special glint shines in his amber-colored eyes. “Am I hearing a hint of jealousy on your tongue?” 

Was it?

Your mouth falls open to reply, but before you can utter a single word, he takes a step forward with open arms, interrupting your thoughts. “Here, let me take care of that for you.” 

He takes your face, holding it between his hands to plant a kiss directly on your mouth, but you fight back by wriggling away, working to dodge the attempts to lock lips. You throw your head back, squealing in protest, “Josh!”

Giggles burst through his chest as he tries shushing you, “Shhh…I think a kiss will make it all better.” His lips connect with your cheek, causing his words to mumble into the flesh, “I’ve been so so good. I think I deserve it, baby.”

With his hands weaving into your hair at the nape of your neck, you groan from the temptation, but stay steadfast in your choice to wait, huffing through a dry laugh, “I literally just had your cum in my mouth. Let me brush first.”

He nips at the apple of your cheek, savoring its sweetness with a teasing lick. “I love when you talk dirty to me.” Pulling away a few inches, he gives himself enough space for his eyes to drift down to your lips. With his naked body wrapping around yours, you’re able to feel the warmth of him pressing into your hip. “Also bold of you to assume I don’t enjoy that sort of thing.”

You hide the blush creeping up to your face with a playful shove to his chest and laughter loud enough to wake up Jake, “Oh my god! You’re fucking gross.”

Josh flashes a cheeky grin as he releases you. “Yeah, well, I think you secretly like that about me.” 

“Bold of you to assume that I like you at all. I could be in it just for the perks.” He gives you the side eye as takes an electric toothbrush from its charging dock on the counter — one that's white and sleek in design. Although, the only response he gives you is a bout of throaty laughter while he swipes a line of toothpaste across the bristles before handing the tube over. 

He pops it into his mouth, mumbling around the brush stuck in the side of his cheek, “You have a funny way of showing your indifference.” The comment is sealed with a wink, and he turns away from you toward the shower. 

You copy his actions, brushing your teeth while watching him pull a stack of bath towels out from the cabinet. He breaks away to spit into the other basin before turning on the water inside the shower. It takes incredible effort for you not to giggle at the lovely view of his little butt jiggling as he moves around the bathroom. 

After placing the toothbrush back into its designated spot, he hops into the shower while you’re preoccupied with rinsing. You finish up, pull open the door to see his back facing you as he stands under the far-side showerhead. “Without me? Now I’m offended.”

His laughter bounces around the slate-toned tile, “I was getting cold, and things shrivel, okay?” He looks over his shoulder, squinting from the water rolling over his face. “Can't let you see me in such a vulnerable state.” 

You walk into the soothing heat of the water, making your way over to him. Slipping your arms around his waist, and using a particularly flirty voice, you tease into his exposed ear, “Oh no. We can’t dent that giant ego of yours, can we?” 

He hums, sending the thrumming sound into your chest, and takes your hand in his. He pulls it across his cock, making you feel the weight and size of him stiffening along your fingers. “You think my ego is dented, baby?” 

He turns within your embrace to face you, and without another second of hesitation, crashes his lips into yours. He’s quick to lick into your mouth, making you realize that waiting the few extra minutes to kiss you has created an insatiable hunger within him. You find yourself chasing the cool metal of his jewelry as his tongue dances across yours — its existence acting as an ill-kept secret he chooses to reveal in the most opportune moments.

You could kiss him for hours, exploring each other under the falling water and rising steam of the shower. You’re not even sure how much time has passed when the sound of knuckles rapping against the glass startles you from the daydream, making both of you turn your heads to find the source. 

The fogged door to the shower opens, and he instantly grumbles in frustration, “Are you fucking kidding me? We’re having a moment here, dude.”

You peer over your shoulder to see Jake stepping in completely nude. Unbothered by Josh’s annoyance, he chuckles, “And let you two hog all the hot water? I don’t think so.”

Josh releases his arms around you, albeit reluctantly, so you can turn around to face his brother. You watch as he stands under the opposite shower-head, tipping his head back to let the spray wet his long hair. The water running over their tattooed skin resembles an artist’s coating of glossy varnish brushed across an oil painting. Whereas the vibrant colors on Josh’s body are deeply saturated, popping in vibrancy against the golden-tone of his skin, Jake’s black and gray work has the appearance as though the art has been dipped in fresh ink. 

You’re staring. 

You know you are, but you can’t stop your wandering eyes from exploring the details of his naked body in front of you if your life depended on it. You can see the silver hoops of his ears now that his soaked hair clings to his neck and shoulders. Rivers of hot water have been created, flowing down the contours of his chest, pouring down his torso like a waterfall. It carries your eyes down past his navel and between his legs, causing the bubbling feeling to rise inside you. 

Aside from the obvious distraction that’s leaving you bashful, you’re able to admire the unveiled tattoos on his thighs now that they are bare and in your view. His right showcases the portrait of a beautiful mermaid, graced with cascading waves of floating hair, supple, perked breasts that are wrapped in a blanket of fanned fins. The left reveals a more violent scene, depicting a massive, brooding pirate ship that’s split in two by the Kraken, pulled into the depths of the ocean. The sea creature’s long tentacles swirl around in different directions, wrapping around the lean muscles of his upper leg. 

Jake rolls his head forward, causing the water to run down the sharp planes of his face, coaxing you with an open hand. You take his fingers without question, letting him tug you forward in such a swift movement that your chest collides with his. He chuckles, then speaks in his lowest voice against your cheek, one that’s still loud enough for you to hear over the running water, “I was a little sad to see that my little dove had flown to another bed this morning.”

Josh’s hand, now slick with soap, slips down the center of your spine when he throws a prodding remark over your shoulder to his twin, “I think it’s quite obvious that I’m clearly her favorite.”

Jake hums in disappointment, and pulls away to look at you with a raised brow., “Is that true?” 

Not only are you put on the spot with the question, but Josh is making it nearly impossible for you to concentrate with his hands lathering soap across your back in massaging circles. 

Jake clicks his tongue as he watches his own hand snake up your throat, making you suck in a sharp breath as his fingers press into the pulse point. Beads of water ricochet off his face and onto yours when he breathes across your parted mouth, “I’m curious as to why I didn’t hear you this morning.”

His wet lips ghost across your jaw until they eventually touch your ear, taunting you with a satisfying purr, “Because if you were my bed, I would have fucked you until you were screaming my name for him to hear.” 

Confident in how he’s left you speechless, he suddenly breaks his hold on you to reach for the bottle of shampoo sitting on the shower ledge, gifting you with a knowing smirk as he does so. As you stand here in shock, he’s more than aware that he’s teasing you with the mundane action, making sure to take his time squirting the soap into the palm of his hand and massaging it into his scalp as if you aren’t standing right in front of him. 

You extend your open hand until it touches his silken chest, feeling his relaxed breathing beneath your palm. Jake’s eyes remain closed as his head stays tipped back, but you still catch the harsh swallow in his throat in response. Your fingertips follow the flow of the water until his stomach shudders from you tickling across his navel. While his expressionless face keeps up the act of nonchalance, the twitch and bounce of his hardening cock gives him away. 

Meanwhile, Josh’s hands have slipped around your hips and up the front of your body. Fingers splay out, gliding across the soap foam to feel across the delicate softness of your belly. He eliminates the inches of distance, hooking his chin over your shoulder to bring you together so his chest connects with your back. His left hand floats across the rich lather he’s created, cupping your breast with a firm squeeze, while the right slides its way up your sternum to wrap around your throat. 

The gasp you release evolves into a deep moan from the feeling of his fingers pressing into you just as Jake had done moments before — yet it’s seemingly different. There’s a certain neediness to Josh’s touch around the vulnerable spot, as if worshiping you every moment he was given, forgoing any sense of possessiveness his brother might have. 

The high-pressure of the running water massages across your back from his side’s shower head, bouncing off naked skin to cover the shower door like a wall of rain. You watch the heavy droplets trickle down, merging together along the pane of glass until the sharp sensation of Josh’s teeth dragging across your shoulder yanks your focus away. 

Your hips roll against him, grinding against his erection that’s been pressing into your ass for the last few minutes. He hums in approval, tightening his hold around your body that much more. You melt into the embrace, as if the hot steam billowing up from the floor has fused you to him. The diluted suds of Jake’s shampoo are starting to run down in waves over his body as he rinses his hair. You trace a solitary index finger from the base, along his growing length, and to the tip of his cock, causing a smirk to break through his stoic face. 

You jump on the chance to tease him in this fleeting lapse of his control by loosely wrapping your fingers around him. The temperature of the water doesn’t mask your ability to feel his warmth as he hardens in your grasp. You study the way he slowly licks across his lips, how his breathing begins to deepen when you start to stroke him — mesmerized watching the artwork decorating his chest as it shifts with the ever-moving canvas of his skin. 

A low groan rumbles within him, loud enough that the sound echoes within the shower walls, and his head falls forward suddenly like a loosened hinge. He has to brace himself by placing an open hand to the shower wall, but hasn’t opened his eyes to look at you just yet. The washed hair that he has slicked to the back of his head has fallen free in long tendrils, framing his face. With the water no longer flowing down his back, it pours from those ends of his hair, the very tip of his nose, the pouted edge of his parted bottom lip and his chin. 

You watch as his dark, defined brows shift as the speed and technique of your hand changes, going from a raised to furrowed state, and back again. Slick with leftover soap, you slip your other hand between his legs to cup the rest of him in the safety of your palm. The careful rub of gentle fingers along the hot skin as you continue stroking him causes a stifled moan to escape his open mouth. 

He huffs a breathy laugh, shining a devilishly handsome smile while looking up through soaked lashes. “You’re fucking trouble.”

The combination of Jake’s wet cock pulsing wildly in your hand while Josh’s ruts into the small of your back sends a primal need straight to your core. You clench around nothing — only the memory of them between your legs hours ago. As if Josh can feel the impatience coursing through you, his hand leaves its place around your throat, and trails back down through the valley of your breasts, roaming over your curves until he dips between your shaking legs. 

His slender, tattooed fingers part you while sighing into your ear, sending the hummed sound over the folds of your brain, “Fuck, baby. She’s already so swollen and hard for me.” He pauses to bite at your earlobe, rolling his tongue ring over as he sucks it into his mouth before praising, “Pretty little thing.” Another heavy breath rolls into a purr against you, “A greedy one, isn’t she?”

He graces you with an artist’s touch, drawing the pad of his middle finger across your clit in a changing pattern of shapes. You don’t even fight when he attaches his lips to the side of your neck, allowing him to add to the collection of marks he and his brother have left on you. 

Your vision is blurred by steam, hot water, and the blooming cloud of lust circling in your head, but you’re able to see Jake reaching out with his free hand to grasp your chin between his thumb and fingers, guiding himself to you. He kisses you, capturing your wet lips with his own. The heat of his mouth is addicting, a stark contrast from the water that’s already started to chill on your skin. Yet, despite the soothing heat of his tongue, you can taste the mint flavor from his toothpaste lingering in his mouth. 

He sends a moan over your tongue, rolling his hips to chase the friction of your hand pumping around his cock. You do the same, as you’re becoming increasingly more distracted by Josh playing with your clit. 

The sensation of his hot tongue running across your cool, wet skin along your shoulder makes your knees buckle beneath your weight, but thankfully Josh’s hand wrapped underneath your breast keeps you upright. With your head resting on his shoulder, he speaks softly with a crooning voice against your cheek, “Is it getting difficult, baby?” You would respond with something witty, but the thought disappears somewhere in the fog swirling your mind. “Hard for you to think while I’m fucking you with my fingers, huh?

The digits curl with precision, pressing against the special spot hidden inside you, working you while the heel of his palm rubs against your clit. Your eyes clamp shut, and the movements of your hand on Jake begin to stagger in rhythm. An internal battle is waging within your body, fighting the decision whether to stiffen or relax in Josh’s arms. His voice is so low and deep it almost dissipates into beading water hitting the tile. “They feel good?” 

You can only nod your pitiful answer with your face pressing up against his cheek. With a broad lick of his tongue across it, he teases with confidence dripping in his voice. “Sure seems like it with how your pussy’s swallowing them up.” He presses his fingers against the spot with more force, pairing the action with a nip to your ear. “Almost more than you gagging on my cock this morning.” 

A groan tears through your chest and you tighten your fist around Jake, making him stumble forward when your fingertips squeeze around the head. He takes a second to compose himself before giving away that he’s heard his brother by asking him, “Felt fucking amazing, right?”

You might die in embarrassment at the idea of them bonding over your oral skills as if it isn’t for the fact that you’re stuck between them. It should be shameful with how greedy you are, wanting both of them to fill you up for the third time in twenty-four hours. You’re feeling the repercussions, the soreness of your muscles, the lack of proper sleep throughout the night, and most importantly — the dull aching between your thighs. You can’t force yourself to care in the slightest. 

You feel the teeth of Josh’s grin drag across the nape of your neck as he grinds himself against your ass. “I’d say the best I’ve ever had.” 

You’re getting closer to your peak, climbing faster than you could have anticipated. The blanketing heat of your impending orgasm floods between your legs, making the movement of your hand on Jake slow to a stop. You’re lost in the high of lust flowing in your veins, practically riding on Josh’s hand as his fingers pump inside you. You release your hand from Jake to reach back for Josh, making him withdraw his fingers and smack your swollen cunt with an open hand. 

You cry out from the sting and empty feeling you’re suddenly left with, “What the fuck?!”

He hisses in your ear while his fingertip tickles across your clit, making you squirm in his hold. “You thought I was gonna reward you for that?” Jake giggles at your flustered state as he’s busy brushing his thumb across your nipple, but Josh continues, “Don’t be selfish, baby. Be a good girl and don’t take your hand off him again.” 

Jake grabs your wrist in a gentle hold, guiding it to his cock — the inked skull on the back of his hand staring back at you once again. He strokes himself with your hand beneath his, showing you the exact pace and pressure he wants. “Just like that, dove.”

His fingers run along your arm, holding it loosely to brace himself as you work your hand around him once again. He’s watching with every ounce of focus he possesses, and his brows are sewn so tightly together it almost looks as if he’s in pain, grimacing through the ragged panting from his lungs. “Fuck, that’s feels good.”

Josh’s fingers find their place buried deep inside you, picking up exactly where he left off. The soap he used is acting like a lube against your backside, allowing him to glide himself in eager thrusts against your ass. 

Jake tightens his grasp around your arm, stammering out through a pitchy moan thats unfamiliar to you, “I’m..I’m gonna-“

Even through the mess of wet, soap-slicked bodies, all three of you work in unison to find a collective release. Josh is determined to make you finish first, throwing you off the edge into the unforgiving sea of your orgasm. You drench his fingers in your arousal, riding through each undulating wave on his hand. Through the height of your ecstacy, you’ve been pumping your hand faster on Jake, feeling his cock harden and pulse in preparation. Josh retreats his hand from between your legs to grab your hip, pressing the tiny indents into the flesh. Jake loses control and unravels before you, grunting through a final squeeze of your fingers across the head of his cock. He drives himself back into your hand, shooting his cum into your stomach, rewarding you with its heat before it washes away down your body. 

Josh is only seconds behind, jerking himself with frenzied pumps as his other hand digs into your side. His knuckles hit your skin with each pass, giving away just how desperate he is at this moment. A string of hushed curses through strained panting flutters across your back as he paints you. You arch into the feeling, connecting the back of your head to his brow. No one dares to move for a minute, locked in a trance as the streams of water fall around you. Josh swipes his fingers through the cum he’s left across your asscheek, admiring his work before it's lost forever. 

Jake is the one to break the silence once he finds a clearer state of consciousness, “Josh?”

Straightening himself from his crouched position against you, he responds with a cracked voice, “Yeah?”

Jake shifts his weight on his legs, and reaches for the bottle of conditioner on the ledge. “Weren’t you supposed to open the shop this morning?”

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck!” Josh curses loudly and stumbles away from you in a panic, nearly slipping on the tile before grabbing the shower door handle. He whips his head back to look at you, revealing the new guilt and stress masking over his features. He leans in and places a chaste kiss to your lips before apologizing, “I’m so fucking sorry I gotta run, baby. Talk later?” 

“S-sure,” you mumble against his lips, clearly still trapped in this daze. He kisses you again, giving into the urge to lick across your bottom lip. 

Before you can convince him to forget all his responsibilities again, Jake scolds him with a forceful shove to his chest to break the two of you apart, “Go, you fucking idiot!”

Josh doesn’t even argue, and stumbles out of the shower, causing a rush of cold air to sting your bare flesh. Jake rushes to close it and take you into his arms without his brother’s presence stopping him. The view through the glass is obstructed with steam, but you can hear Josh fumbling in the bathroom for a minute, then the sounds of his feet hitting the wood floor when he runs into his bedroom. 

Jake kisses you gently, peppering your jawline with the touch of his lips until they brush the shell of your ear. The sound of his voice is affectionate, even with the lingering notes of his desire, “Now let’s take care of that tattoo before I can enjoy you all to myself.”

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[dystopicjumpsuit]

Double, Double Boil and Trouble - Part 5

A/N: This is part 5 my fic for the @rare-clone-fic-exchange, which I wrote for @goblininawig. The story takes place in a shared continuity with Stars Beyond Number, Martyrs and Kings, and “Do It Again,” but it stands alone and can be read independently of those fics.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Boil x Reader (GN, has hair; reader practices tasseomancy/reads tea leaves) 

Rating: M (mature content intended for readers 18+; minors DNI)

Wordcount: 3.1K

Warnings and tags: mysticism; angst; fluff; mild critique of the Jedi Order (but no Jedi hate); fade-to-black sensuality; implied oral sex; ritualistic drug use; a description of being high on hallucinogens/psychedelics

Obligatory disclaimer: Please don’t use this as a how-to guide for or endorsement of drug use, because 1. it’s inaccurate to the real world, and 2. depending on your location, ThAt WOuld Be ILlEGal. This is a Wendy’s fanfic.

Summary: Boil is willing to do what it takes to get answers about Waxer.

Suggested Listening:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“You sure this won’t make me pop positive if I get tested?” Boil asked, eyeing the tin of tea warily.

“Completely. You have two rotations left of shore leave, and this will be out of your system in twenty-four hours.”

You spoke with certainty, and Boil felt some of his doubts ease. He picked up the tin and removed the lid, giving the tea a curious sniff. It didn’t smell like much; just faintly earthy and vegetal. 

“So how does it work?”

“You brew it and drink it, just like regular tea,” you replied. “After a few minutes, you start to feel the effects.”

“And what do the effects feel like?” He set the tea tin down and took a bite of his breakfast.

“Nothing much at first,” you replied. “But when it hits, you’ll know. Everything will look a little clearer and brighter. Food will taste a little better. Everyday things will start to seem really, really interesting. People will be prettier and funnier and smarter.”

“That just sounds like a couple shots of Cheedoan whiskey,” Boil observed.

“Oh, somebody’s fancy,” you teased. “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty.”

He laughed and tossed his crumpled napkin at you, mostly for the fun of seeing you shudder and flick it away with a revolted expression. “The general bought a round for Ghost Company one time.”

“I hope he charged it to the Jedi Order,” you laughed. “Do Jedi get paid?”

“Search me,” he shrugged. “Clones don’t.”

You grimaced. “I know. Kriffing banthashit, is what that is.”

It didn’t change a thing, but Boil still felt a little better knowing you weren’t as complacent as the rest of the galaxy seemed to be about the clone troopers’ situation. 

“So what makes this tea any different from a decent buzz?” he asked.

“That would be the visual hallucinations,” you replied with a cheeky grin.

He eyed you curiously. “I take it you’ve done this before.”

“A few times,” you nodded. “It can be pretty fun. You haven’t lived until you’ve watched the Eye of Aldhani—you know what, never mind.”

He laughed. “What about the ritual part?”

“It’s a little different. The dosage is higher, so the effects are more intense.” You hesitated a moment before adding, “There’s another element to it as well.”

“What’s that?”

“Force sensitivity,” you replied bluntly. “You need to either be able to wield the Force yourself, or have a strong connection with someone who can.”

He nodded, recalling a detail you’d told him months ago. “And your grandmother taught you to wield it? Why didn’t she send you to the Jedi for training?”

“Our world isn’t part of the Republic,” you explained. “The Jedi order has no jurisdiction that far out in Wild Space, and to be frank, we prefer it that way. They mind their own business, and we mind our own.”

Boil pondered your response quietly, noticing the strained expression in your eyes, and he remembered that you tried to stay off the Jedi’s scopes. “You don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not talk about it.”

You gave him a grateful look and replied, “It’s all right. It’s not a secret or anything. It’s just…” You paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “We do things our own way. And when someone is born with the Sight—the Force—we train them in our own way, too. It doesn’t happen often, and there weren’t many elders with the Sight left by the time I was born. Gran took on my training, but I was only fifteen when she passed.”

Boil gazed steadily at you, feeling a deep sense of foreboding. “What happened?”

“I came to Coruscant, hoping the Jedi could help me. I scraped together everything I had in the galaxy to pay for the trip. But when I went to the temple, they said it was too dangerous to train someone who’d been ‘corrupted.’” The word came out harshly, as though it tasted bitter on your tongue. “They sent me away. Said I would be better off knowing nothing of the Force.”

Boil was horrified. “But you were just a kid!”

“Yeah,” you replied grimly. “I grew up pretty fast after that.”

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t imagine most of the Jedi he’d met ever treating a child with such callousness, but he and his fellow clones knew better than anyone that the Jedi order contained all sorts of beings, ranging from those who were kind and wise like General Kenobi, all the way to monsters like that kriffing traitor, Pong Krell.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last, feeling the inadequacy of his words. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s all right,” you replied. “I’m older and wiser now, and I realize I probably wouldn’t have been the best fit in the Order. And I’ve picked up quite a bit of knowledge since then—especially since I met Tas. There are more paths to the Force than people think.”

The conversation had strayed into territory that was wholly unfamiliar to Boil, so he was relieved when your serious expression faded and the usual glint of humor returned to your eyes. “Lucky for you, I know what I’m doing.”

He smiled, content to let you steer the topic back to the ritual. “So when you say we need a strong connection, how strong are we talkin’?”

“It requires a very high level of trust. We will have to lower our mental defenses enough to allow each other in. When I’ve done it in the past, it was with people I was very close to—people I had known for years.”

“So you don’t do this for every trooper you bewitch?” he asked.

You grinned. “Actually, yes. After tonight, I will have done this for every single trooper I’ve bewitched. One-hundred percent success rate. Hopefully.”

“So what happens if our connection isn’t strong enough?”

Your smile faltered slightly. “Nothing. We’ll have a hell of a trip, and tomorrow we can thank the Force that it wasn’t our money that got wasted on the tea.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” he said. “When should we do it?”

“We’ll need a few hours of uninterrupted privacy, so we’ll want to wait until I get off work tonight,” you replied. “It’ll be about half an hour before you start to feel the effects, and then we’ll begin the ceremony.”

“That sounds ominous,” he laughed. “Is there a blood sacrifice, or is that only on Centaxdays?”

“You know, I’m fresh out of sacrificial victims, so we’ll have to skip it this time.”

Your eyes sparkled, and he inhaled softly, stunned by how beautiful they were when you looked at him with that mischievous expression. Not that he would tell you that, obviously. What was he supposed to say?

You have the sweetest eyes in the galaxy.

I’ve never kissed anyone with such perfect lips.

The last two weeks have been the best of my life.

When I’m with you, I feel like everything is easier.

I don’t want to leave.

Please. He wasn’t a total sap.

“Cutting corners?” he asked instead, a hint of a taunt in his tone. “And here I thought I’d get special boyfriend privileges.”

He watched for your reaction out of the corner of his eye, and he didn’t miss the way you bit your lip to keep from smiling.

“Oh, you get boyfriend privileges,” you replied. “Door keycode, toothbrush, unlimited conservator access, your very own caf mug… And other things.”

He grinned, moving closer and sliding his hand around your waist, easing his fingers inside your ridiculous bathrobe to caress the bare skin of your hip.

“What other things?” he murmured in your ear, nipping the skin of your neck softly.

Kriff, you taste delicious.

“Ten percent discount on readings,” you replied.

“Ten percent?” he whispered, trailing kisses down your neck to your shoulder as he untied the sash of your robe and brushed his fingers lower on your body. “You can do better than that.”

“F—five percent,” you stammered in a gratifyingly breathy voice. “That’ll teach you not to haggle.”

“Mm,” he hummed as he worked his mouth down your torso, dropping slowly to his knees in front of you. “Maybe we could work out a barter system. I’m sure I could provide some services you might find appealing.”

Your only response was a broken whimper as he took you with his mouth, gripping your hips and then sliding his hands back to cup your ass and pull you against his face.

Maker, I could worship you forever. I don’t want to leave.

Boil would rather die than admit he was nervous. For kark’s sake, he faced off against entire divisions of battle droids on a daily basis; how intimidating could a cup of tea possibly be? Besides, you seemed perfectly comfortable as you brewed the tea and lit a stick of incense, and there was no way he’d let you see him blink. He was a soldier of the Republic, and he wasn’t afraid of anything.

Still, some of his definitely-not-nervousness must have shown on his face, because you gave his arm an encouraging little touch as you walked past him into the living area. He watched as you pulled all the throw pillows off the sofa and your bed and piled them on the floor to make a soft, chaotic nest, and then you dimmed the lights. Your flat had already taken on a strange, mystical air, and he hadn’t even tasted a sip of the tea yet.

He watched curiously as you placed colorful stones in all the windowsills and doorways of your flat.

“What are those for?” he asked.

“Just making sure the only spirits that show up are the ones we want,” you replied with a lopsided grin, but the look in your eyes made him think you were deadly serious. “Nothing to worry about.”

He blinked. So I guess that’s definitely something to worry about.

“I’m not gonna get haunted by this, am I?” he asked, aiming for a casual tone and not quite nailing it.

“Definitely not!” you replied, before adding under your breath, “... probably.”

“Probably?”

“I’m ninety percent sure,” you reassured him. “Eighty-three percent sure.”

“Are you kriffing with me, or are you serious?” he demanded.

You laughed. “I’m kriffing with you. You definitely, probably won’t get haunted, and even if you do, Tas has a banishing spell that’ll get rid of anything.”

“You know you’re not exactly inspiring confidence, right?”

Your only response was a playful smile that made him want to kiss you until you forgot your own name, so he did. He caught you by the hand and hauled you into his arms, threading his fingers through your hair as he kissed you again and again.

“Could you be serious for ten seconds?” he murmured between kisses. 

“No promises.” You flicked your tongue against the corner of his lips, and he nearly called off the entire operation and tossed you onto the bed on the spot.

With a rather impressive display of self control—if he did say so himself—he pulled away slightly and asked, “Are the walls of the Venator going to start weeping blood if I do this?”

“Oh, almost certainly not,” you replied. “Maybe just a droplet or two on the refresher mirrors…”

He stared into your eyes for a moment, then let out a reluctant laugh, dropping his forehead to rest against your shoulder. You wrapped your hand around the back of his head and pressed your lips against his temple.

“We don’t have to do any of this if you don’t want to,” you said quietly.

His arms tightened around you as he inhaled deeply, trying to memorize your exact scent. “No. I want to know. I need to know.”

You held him silently for a moment, and then you nodded. “If you’re sure, then everything is ready.”

“I’m sure,” he said, pulling back just far enough to look into your eyes. “Let’s do this.”

“Okay.” You held him tightly for another moment, then broke away to retrieve the two mugs of tea from the kitchen. You passed one to him, then tapped your own against it. “Bottoms up, Buttercup.”

Boil was expecting the concoction to taste awful: bitter and sinister, maybe with a hint of brimstone. In reality, it was actually pretty good. It was smooth, a little spicy, and sweetened with honey, and he drained the cup without complaint. He waited expectantly, but nothing happened.

“Now what?” he asked.

“Now we watch an episode of It’s Always Sunny on Abafar and wait for it to kick in,” you replied, glancing down into the mug to quickly scan the leaves the way he’d noticed you do every time you finished a cup of tea.

Whatever you saw must not have been too terrible, given that you didn’t immediately cancel the evening’s activities. He shrugged and moved to the sofa, pulling you down with him as you turned on the holoscreen. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the luxury of being able to watch whatever he wanted, any time he pleased. Not to mention that your sofa, shabby as it was, was quite possibly the most comfortable piece of furniture in the galaxy—particularly with your head resting on his shoulder and your body tucked in close to his own as he curled around you. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” you warned, nudging him with your elbow. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he lied.

The episode failed to hold his attention, and his mind and hands began to wander. He traced his fingertips over your shoulder and down your bare arm, around your wrist and back up again, enjoying the smooth warmth of your skin. He’d never touched shimmersilk in his life, but he would have bet a month of rations that your skin was softer. Eventually, he draped his arm around your waist and began to play with the hem of your shirt, tugging it up to expose your abdomen.

“Don’t even think about it,” you said, resting your hand over his. “There’s no way in hell I’m going there on your first trip.”

“Even if I want to?” he murmured, kissing the back of your neck.

“Nope. Besides, we’re not just doing this for fun, remember?” You rolled over to face him.

“Fine. Maybe next time.” He rested his forehead against yours, stroking your cheek softly as he gazed into your eyes. “Your pupils are huge.”

You snorted a laugh. “Seems like the tea is working. Shall we get started?”

He nodded. “What do we do?”

“I have bad news,” you said gravely. “We’re going to have to break the cuddle.”

“Not the cuddle!” he gasped in horror.

“I’m afraid so.”

He grumbled, but begrudgingly disentangled his limbs from yours. As he sat up, the room seemed to sway slightly, almost as if the entire building were floating in water. He didn’t want to alarm you, so he didn’t mention that the pattern on your wallpaper was definitely, absolutely, one-hundred percent coming to life. The designs gyrated and churned in a nauseating swirl, and he tore his eyes away from it, determined not to abort the mission for a reason as pitiful as tea-induced motion sickness.

He followed you silently to the nest of cushions you’d arranged on the floor, sitting opposite you with his legs crisscrossed. You scooted forward until your knees touched his, and you took his hands, holding them in a loose grip. He stroked his thumb over your palm, and the smile you gave him in return made him forget all about the wallpaper.

“Close your eyes,” you said softly, “and take a slow breath, all the way down to the bottom of your lungs.”

He did as you said, and as he exhaled gradually, he felt his stomach settle and the tension drain out of his shoulders. The pair of you repeated the exercise a few times, and then you asked him to focus on keeping his breath smooth and even. He was starting to feel incredibly relaxed and drowsy, and only his promise not to fall asleep kept him from drifting off.

“Think of somewhere you felt safe and happy,” you said in a low voice. “Picture it in your mind.”

Here. With you. 

“Do you see it?” you asked.

“Yes,” he whispered, envisioning your cozy, colorful little flat as clearly as though he had opened his eyes. 

He was alone in his mental version of the flat, and he took a moment to look around. It was tidier in his mind, with the nest of cushions all put back where they belonged, and no telltale pastry crumbs on the kitchen counter. But aside from that, it was the same, filled with signs of you—the eclectic jumble of teacups on your kitchen shelf; the colorful array of robes hanging on hooks on the wall; the vibrant collection of thrifted art hanging on the walls. It even smelled like your scent. The only thing missing was—

Knock knock.

He turned toward the door in his mind, and then he was standing in front of it without ever having moved his feet. He leaned in to look through the peephole—wait, your door has a holoscreen. The image in his mind warped, and suddenly the holoscreen appeared. You stood outside in the hallway, waiting.

“Will you let me in?” you asked quietly.

Your lips didn’t move in the vision of you he saw within his mind, and he realized you’d spoken the words aloud.

“Yes,” he replied, opening the door.

As you stepped inside, your gaze flicked around the flat, and your breath caught. Too late, Boil realized he’d revealed far more than he intended. He swallowed nervously, bracing himself for your mockery now that you had witnessed the true depth of his feelings for you. 

When you looked at him, though, there was no trace of ridicule in your eyes. You stepped closer and took his hand in yours, and as you did, he felt the soft pressure of a gentle, reassuring squeeze on his physical hands. To his relief, that was the only acknowledgment, though he had a feeling the two of you would be having a long conversation once the effects of the tea had worn off.

“Are you ready?” you asked, and somehow, he knew you’d asked the question directly to his mind.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied without speaking.

You smiled. “In that case, I’d like you to meet someone.”

Your gaze shifted to a point over his shoulder, and he turned slowly. A stranger stood behind him, ancient and wrinkled, with eyes that somehow seemed very familiar and very, very kind. A faint blue glow emanated from her, and though she seemed solid enough, Boil had the distinct feeling that if he were to open his eyes, he’d see nothing but you, sitting across from him in a nest of cushions.

“Is this the boy you told me about?” she asked, inspecting him closely.

“Yes,” you replied. “Gran, I’d like you to meet Boil.”

#clone trooper boil #clone trooper boil x reader #boil x reader #gn reader #star wars #the clone wars #star wars fanfic #tcw fanfic #dystopicjumpsuit writes

[astarionslittlejuicebox]

The Promise of Eternity (Part 2)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

Imagine: The reader helped Astarion ascend and became his spawn. After saving the world from the Elder brain and it’s destruction, the reader and Astarion set out to take on the world together. While he promised to never forget the gifts the reader has given him, Astarion has seemed to have changed his attitude towards the reader in the last century…. After someone breaks one of  Astarion’s rules, how will this affect the reader’s fate?

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: potential for minor spoilers, suggestive themes, language, mentions of death, mentions of blood, abusive relationship, mention of slavery

Word Count: 1246

Imagine Series List

Side Notes: 

This imagine series takes place 200 years after the events of Baldur’s Gate 3.  Everything you read in here is a story from my mind outside of the original BG3 character Astarion.

In this imagine series, Astarion is a bit more unemotionally unavailable, and this series will follow the decisions and consequences of that change. This is not canonically accepted and it is just an idea I’ve had in my head! (I do believe Astarion might truly care for the reader after Ascension, but that is open to individual interpretation.)

In this series, TAV is mildly based on my first character I played in BG3; she is a drow and I will make references to her in her background and knowledge as well. I do apologize that it is not 100% your own imagine, but the name for TAV is up to you as well as anything else that I can think of leaving to you, the reader, to decide.

I appreciate everyone who reads the imagines and this series, and I hope you enjoy the story!

TAV POV

Breakfast time was a busy time for everyone in the castle. The chefs were busy preparing a large feast for the Lord of the castle and his exquisite taste buds. For the last two hundred years, Astarion has indulged and refined his taste for mortal foods, and the ever-rotating kitchen staff struggles to keep up with his desires. This morning, the chefs had prepared a feast of danish hens, caviar, fish, eggs in various styles, and other luxuries that only the nobility could afford in Toril. As I walked around the long dark wooden table that stood proudly in the center of an exquisitely decorated dining hall, I observed those who were hustling and bustling about the dining hall. Humans, elves, tieflings, and other people of all sorts of races rushed about to ensure that the breakfast buffet on the table would match the vampire lord’s meticulous standards. The silverware was polished and then examined before it was repolished several times until the silverware was finally deemed satisfactory. 

I took note of the facial expressions of the servants as they all appeared to be frantic in their preparations. I was searching for any signs of deception or discontent with their tasks as servants placed two sets of plates on the table, one at each end of the table where an intricately designed chair sat proudly. One of the chairs belonged to the vampire lord himself, and the other belonged to his most beloved. I fondly glanced over at the chair I had sat in so many times over the last two centuries. Before I could reminisce on fonder days, a familiar voice agitated my drow ears.

“This fork is not shiny enough for the Master!” The voice sounded like the person only spoke from their nose—an impressive talent—but the voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard to the ears of those who heard it. The tiefling made her way hastily to the seat I had been staring at, with two puncture marks still lazily bleeding on her neck. Upon noticing me looking at her, she narrowed her eyes and gave me a snide look. “Look away, spawn, or I’ll tell your master that you’re bothering me.” She let out a laugh that reminded me of a pack of gnolls, but I turned my attention elsewhere as I left the room. On my way out, I almost collided into the pale elf himself, Astarion. He didn’t even spare a glance at me before I was shoved out the way and into the wall. I caught myself before smoothing out my dress and continuing my path towards my bedchambers. I could hear the ridiculous hyena laugh echo through the hallways until I had gotten several more feet away. Several of the spawn had given me sorrowful expressions as I passed, but I merely smiled at them as I took longer strides. Pity was etched onto every one of their faces, and I could not bear the weight of it on my shoulders. Besides, someone in this castle had broken a rule, and I was tasked to find whomever had done so.

Arriving at my bedchambers, I hastily opened and shut the door behind me before my handmaiden, Kristiana, greeted me. Kristiana was a spawn without a vampire master who Astarion and I had taken in under our wings one hundred fifty years ago. She was a short human female with big brown eyes, golden brown hair, and a soft smile. She was totally devoted to serving me hand and foot.

“Good morning, Mistress, was the sunrise beautiful this morning?” She asked as she walked into the large dressing room attached to the bedroom. “What are we thinking of wearing today? A nice autumn themed dress or shall we wear something more comfortable today?” I slipped off my gown and handed it to her through the door. Before I walked towards the warm bath she had drawn me. I sunk into the heated water and my muscles relaxed into the hot water. Kristiana walked over and poured water on my hair and brushed the knots out before she proceeded to wash my hair. 

“We are going to put on something more comfortable for today. After I am dressed, please take the day to rest and relax. You’ve been working so hard lately, and you deserve a break.” Kristiana’s hands paused in my hair. 

“Are you sure, Mistress? You know there are still plenty of duties for me—“ I waved my hand to stop her.

“I am absolutely sure. I can handle myself. Besides, I have business in town, and I am perfectly capable of handling myself.” I gave her a smile, which she graciously returned.

“If you are sure, I shall take you up on that offer.” She then continued delicately washing my hair while I washed my body. The sweet aroma of peaches filled the air in my room as dirt and grime was washed away from my body. Once I was rinsed, I stood up and wrapped a soft towel around my body as Kristiana laid out a plain black shirt and black trousers for me, I put on a pair of black leather boots to finish my outfit then smiled at Kristiana. I sat in front of the mirror, even though I couldn’t see my reflection, as Kristiana stood behind me and ran a brush through my hair.

“Just throw my hair into my usual bun and we shall call it a day.” I saw her nod her head in the mirror before her skillful hands went to work twisting my hair into a beautiful bun. She placed small black pins into my hair to hold it in place before she pulled out two strands to frame my face. She took a step back to admire her work before she smiled at me.

“All done, Mistress, and you look as beautiful as you always do.” I gave her a small smile. 

“Thank you Kristiana. You always do such a wonderful job. You are dismissed until tomorrow.” Kristiana gave a timid bow before she walked out of my bedchambers. I took a moment to sit in the complete silence of the empty room and thought about how my morning had started. My eyes watered with the familiar sting of tears as I recalled the small glimmer of how things used to be with Astarion, but the moment quickly dissipated the moment she walked into the room. 

I sighed heavily as I looked out the window, reminiscing on the days when Astarion and I were on the same page, wanting the same things, and speaking the same language. You will be my most beloved spawn, my right hand, my dark consort. I felt a single tear escape from my eye as his honeyed words rang through my head once again. Together you and I will be the most powerful people in the world. A few more tears slid down my face and collected onto my trousers. I had foolishly thought my little star had meant those words he had spoken, and I believe he truly did at one point in time. I wiped the tears that escaped my eyes before I straightened my posture. Regardless of how I thought he felt, he did entrust me with the task of finding whoever had stolen his blood. I grabbed my cloak and left my bedchambers as I set out to head towards my next destination: the library of Baldur’s Gate.

#astarion imagine #astarion x reader #baldursgate3 #baldursgate3imagine #ascended astarion #imagine #the promise of eternity

[krynutsreal]

my hand slipped a bit

no freaking way.... ishimondo sky au real....

ummm this took an embarrassingly long amount of time (79 hours altogether </3) so u will. look at them!!!!! If u don't know what sky au is or want 2 learn more about these sillies then I will be rambling about them rn (with extra doodles) !! lucky you :]

Kry, what is sky au ??

To put it simply, it's a (mostly) ishimondo centric au where Mondo guards over the sun, while Taka guards over the moon. Together they keep Earth in balance. Other planets (excluding Earth for now) are guarded by a being similar to Mondo and taka (aka the hopes peak students are now guardians too). They all each have their own ways of making sure that their planet/moon/etc are rotating correctly and orbiting around the sun n such !! (It's a work in progress so pls bear with me </3)

The Earth, in this case is not guarded by anyone in particular. Which gives the beings an opportunity to basically go down there and explore or just go through shenanigans pretty much. So long as they don't burn the whole planet down and are able to blend in with humans down there they're able to do whatever they please 👍

now to get some sorta like. random facts about Mondo n taka (plus the piece itself) out of the way cause !!!! the post is about them SO

Mondo: Sun guardian ☀️

Does not have a specific routine when doing his job. Usually goes with his gut feeling and continues on from there.

With that in mind, he tends to travel to earth very often to mess around n' have fun. He doesn't doesn't go out of his way to cause destruction (at least not on purpose)

But, he is more feared than liked by most of the mortals there. That does not stop him from roaming around the Earth though!

His halo can emit the brightest light that could honestly blind a regular human, but for the space beings it does not have much of an effect on em.

MF TOOK THE LONGEST TIME (42 hrs) !!! BC OF HIS HAIR. and the halo. shakes him crumples him up

Kiyotaka: Moon guardian 🌙

Unlike Mondo, Taka actually does have a routine that he carefully and thoughtfully planned out to make sure that everything goes smoothly with things regarding the moon (phases, rotations, yk)

Only goes down to Earth for educational purposes, he wants to learn more about how the moon directly affects the Earth (as well as other things about mortals and nature in general)

Does come off as intimidating to mortals, but it is mostly unintentional and therefore he doesn't hang around them much.

Is able to make little star projections with his hands and uses this to make his plans/write down stuff (good example is making that flower projection in [this] comic.)

he was the one I drew first !!! [37 hrs] (hence why he took less time then mondo) I lov his cape. umm also crumples him up

AND THATS ALL I HAVE FOR NOW. IF UR READING THIS THEN THANK U FOR UMM READING THE RAMBLES. I GIFT U THESE.

BYEEE!!!!!! collapses onto the floor .

#danganronpa #mondo owada #kiyotaka ishimaru #ishimondo #kry k(art) #sky au #i genuinely.cant believe i spent that long on them #to be fair it wasnt 79 hours straight it was more of me working on it during free time (and procrastinating on it) #originally they were gonna be together in 1 piece. but ibis kept crashign so i had to split them in half #UMMM IDK. im glad i finally posted this #so glad i dont hate this piece. the hyper fixation is real. love wins etc etc #ok bye stay cringe and free #EDIT I FORGOT TO ADD THE LINK SORR

[kdwg]

Accepted or Declined? [Dottore x Reader x Pantalone]

First, English is not my mother tongue so maybe i make mistake in grammar or anything, sorry

Secondly, i played chess when i was 5,6 idk and now i almost forgot all of them, everything mentioned chess in here maybe not right

So sorry again... i am really bad at writing in eng

p/s: Dottore does not appear directly, Reader has no feelings for Pantalone

You wait in the eerily quiet surroundings. All the lights in the main hall have turned off, leaving you alone with the weak light of an oil lamp just enough to see the chess set. Fear and impatience are increasing in waves as your fingers tend to tap harder on the marble floor.

When will Dottore finally complete the experiment?

Once again, thoughts of him flashed through your mind, distracting you from the chess match laid out before you. You take a deep breath, feeling the refreshing cold flow into your trachea, flowing into your thoughts like a cataclysm that extinguished all concerns about him. You move the white pawn up 1 space, as programmed, and after completing one step, you rotate the chessboard 180 degrees. You put all your focus on the chess position in front of you, you repeat what you want to do out loud, win yourself, win yourself, win yourself... However, you cannot understand the blurred black and white chess pieces right in front of your eyes replaced by the image of a blue-haired man. Helpless, you can only sigh, knock everything down and rearrange the two sides into two straight rows.

Dottore reigns in your mind like an incurable plague. You threw the pocket watch into a corner somewhere, stopping yourself from waiting so you wouldn't suddenly open it and then be disappointed how long it's been since he's started that damn experiment. All the waiting time is now counted in chess matches, but at thirteen you stopped counting and the games after that are just mechanical, dealing with yourself. You begin to think he had left, half of you believe that Dottore was a man of his word, but the other half suspect that he had completed the experiment and then left, forgetting his promise. Speaking of credibility, Dottore was like that, but I don't know if he has changed with everyone, or just with you. 

Beyond credibility, many things have changed.

You sigh, you should focus on something else to wait for him. Just as you were about to place your pawn on E4, a deep voice ring out at the front door of the hall:

“Sicilian defense as usual?”

You can easily recognize the owner of the voice and it is not good to have the company of other harbingers except number 2. Luckily the oil lamp light is not bright enough to illuminate the discomfort on your face. At that moment, you quickly stand up, bow properly and reply in a very neutral tone:

“Mr. Regrator, it is a pleasure to meet you, even though it is midnight.”

“What I said, you can call me Pantalone.”

You want to say something sarcastic, but this bastard will always respond with an obnoxious, peaceful smile, not paying any attention. Finally, you smile, your knuckles digging into the back of your shirt even more intensely when Pantalone does not leave but sits down opposite you.

"I didn't know you would spend your precious time here with me so late at night instead of a good night's sleep. Do you have something you want to discuss? It's definitely not due to poor chess."

Pantalone still keep his usual smile, he turn the chessboard so that the white pieces are on his side.

"A match, shall we?"

This man is definitely not here just for the reason of having a chess match for entertainment. Surely Pantalone is thinking about something, you wonder if you should find an excuse to refuse and then leave because any more lingering with him will only be disadvantageous. You want to dissect the man in front of you, you want to know what he is planning behind that gentle face. What was the reason for Pantalone's approach? Why you and not Dottore? Looking at yourself, you can't find anything that would be useful for Pantalone.

Thousands of questions constantly appear in my mind, neurons are pushed to maximum performance to encode as quickly as possible. The soles of your feet tingle and itch like an ant making nests, and your body was urging you to run away. Run away for what? You do not know.

"Let's sit down."

Your body stiffen as Pantalone spoke. It was supposed to be a reassurance but underneath the layers of subtext you felt it was more like an order. You sit down forcibly, your fingers gripping the hem of your shirt until they turn white.

"It's just for fun. I definitely won't punish you if you lose."

You feel regretful that you didn't choose to leave.

"What's wrong, Dottore doesn't allow his little friend to socialize with other people?"

Pantalone laughs very politely and sarcastically, you hate the way every time you met him he always mentioned Dottore. In the past, you didn't mind, but right now, anyone mentioning his name makes your anger flare up. However, who can you blame for when you have become his shadow for so long, when did you lose your own identity and choose to stand behind?

"If you want to talk to Dottore, you should find the owner."

"Okay but the main topic tonight is you."

This time Regrator laughed heartily, not the commercial smile in meetings. You want to correct yourself but Pantalone doesn't give you the chance:

"Do you ever use any opening other than the Sicilian defense?"

Pawn to D4.

"Sometimes I open with The Ruy-Lopez"

Pawn to D5.

"So two openings, why don't you try some others? The other openings didn’t bring victory?"

"I tried..."

You're a little confused when you remember the last time you used other openings except the Sicilian defense and The Ruy-Lopez. You suddenly realize it's been a long time, maybe since you were an Akademiya scholar. That's when you started practicing chess, choosing the suitable openings to master them.

"I tried Ponziani and the Slav defense but it wasn't effective."

If you don't want to say you lost badly to Dottore when you were trying to find a third opening.

"As a scientist, I see you have no tendency to innovate."

This time you couldn't hide the irritation in your tone, but you were calm enough not to express anything too extreme.

"What do you mean by that?"

Even though you are not an official scientist, you chose to become Dottore's assistant, but each of those words severely attacked those in the field of research and development.

"Don't get angry," Pantalone seemed happier when you no longer remained neutral in your actions and words, "I mean, sometimes you should step out of your safe zone, choose a bold decision that can end the chain of thoughts: worries, hesitation and negativity."

Pawn to C4.

Looking at the situation in front of you, you can partly feel the suspicious message he is conveying. What Pantalone wants to say has also appeared in your subconscious countless times. They appear every time you realize that you were slowly drifting off to sleep while sitting on the chair waiting for him to return every night. They persistently whisper in your ear when Dottore and you argued about unnecessary issues. They become a ghost that resides in your left chest when you crossed out past your birthday on the calendar, reminding you that Dottore has completely forgotten you.

Pantalone can clearly see your trembling hand playing with the lock of hair on your cheek.

"You know, there are things that have to be sacrificed for a greater purpose."

Your gut is tearing, you feel bile rising into your throat, you don't know how to show exact expression to him. You are becoming more sensitive than ever, 7 parts of you are agreeing with Pantalone's words but 3 parts are shaking your spirit, you should not trust him, you must choose Dottore. You raised your face, eyes unable to hide the fear that was locked on Pantalone's every move.

Pantalone walks towards you, bend down to face level, his fingers wearing a sparkling ring trying to touch your cheek but you backed away to avoid him.

He makes a fake sad face, not giving up, his ten fingers cupping your face and pulling you closer. You try to pull Pantalone's wrist away, but your limbs feel as weak as plants.

You are not afraid of Pantalone, the terror that is coming at this moment is the competing thoughts of Dottore going on in your head. You know Pantalone is not the cause of your rebellious thoughts, they have always existed in your mind every time Dottore's credibility dropped. But you always pushed them away, burying them all deep in some corners, overpowering them with the illusion of justifying yourself to Dottore. And, Pantalone is the catalyst, igniting the fire that allows them to escape and burn down the stronghold you have built. Why does Pantalone do this? Does Pantalone know that Dottore is an unambiguous person? Even if Dottore still has feelings for you and if his plan of separating was successful, Dottore’s collapse because of love is still extremely unreasonable. So what is the key to doing this?

"Look at me."

The sweet words make you shiver, he brushes your strands of hair into your ear. You can feel his steady breathing on your nose, it took your breath away. His purple eyes under long eyelashes seem to illuminate your frustrated heart. They consider, open each layer of skin, see through thousands of thoughts that are tangled together like a ball of wool. But those eyes did not untie every knot, they burned like a volcano, burning everything to ashes. They leave your mind as hazy white spaces, and in your eyes everything is gradually fading, only the silhouette of the ninth harbinger remains. Rough gloved fingers touch your lips, Pantalone smiles happily, he parts your teeth, and blows air into your mouth. You startle and cough when the smell of cigarettes hits you. You are not aware that you had stopped breathing since he held your face. You want to remove your face from his hands, but they are on your waist. He leans in so that his nose touches your skin. You are irritated, your eyebrows furrow to show your displeasure for him to let go. As for Pantalone, he seems a bit regretful when he didn't put two fingers in your mouth.

"Accepted or Declined?"

You blush when you feel his lips playing with yours, you blame it on your anger from waiting for Dottore and the banker's weird joke. You remove Pantalone's hand, quickly stand up and lay your king down.

"I resign."

You leave, leaving Pantalone laughing happily at the game he had created. You leave, this time you didn't care if Dottore was still at the palace.

#dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #genshin impact

[chungledown-bimothy]

Top 5 character dynamics on d20? (Intrepid heroes seasons + side quests; so 10)

oh i love this and thank you for splitting it into the 2 groups, making it slightly more possible lol

point of clarification: the slashes are NOT being used as a shipping indication. it's just faster than using and a million times. in fact, the only one i ship is colin/deli/skarna.

Side Quests:

1- Colin/Deli/Skarna. I don't need to explain this one, I think. Everything is wrong with them and it's painful and wonderful.

2- Squing/Alexsandr. Squing ate over 2500 letters Sasha wrote. Sasha wants to play with his weirdly soft head like silly putty. Every single interaction has me in hysterics, really.

3- Evan/Jammer. EAT TRASH BEAT TRASH. FAMILY ON SIX. Jammer constantly being Evan's strongest hype man is just so great.

4- Chirp/Squak. Emily and Lou decided they wanted to be an iconic, chaotic duo, and my god they knocked it out of the park. The scene where she tells him about her wife and kids?? 100/10.

5- Lila/Jaysohn/Thorn. It was really hard to not say the whole damn party, honestly. But Thorn trying to cool-uncle parent these goddamn nightmares was incredible.

Intrepid Heroes:

1- Amethar/Caramelinda. I wrote a whole fic about their early relationship. I rotate them in my mind constantly. As complicated and painful what we know about them is, what's left unsaid is even more so. (if you just meant pc/pc dynamics, i'm sorry!)

2- Sofie/Kugrash. If I start talking about the million reasons I love them and their friendship, I'll start crying, so. Not gonna do that. But you understand.

3- Pete/Kingston. Pete seeing Kingston as an authority figure to rebel against -> father figure. Kingston not giving Epona Pete's information in the same day that he says that if it comes down to NYC or Pete, he'll pick NYC ten out of ten times. The Voxes, starting diametrically opposed and ending up family, really.

4- Saccharina/Ruby. You can be my queen or my sister, but not both. The prisoners' dilemma. Jet just died, Ruby can't let anyone else in vs Ruby representing everything Saccharina has ever wanted. 100/10 Siobhan and Emily killed me.

5- Pib/Pinocchio. Literally partners in crime. Just a pair of little dudes causing Big Chaos. Pinocchio holding Pib up to Baba Yaga and saying "where the white women at?" is canon to me.

That's a lot of Lou characters oop 😅

#dimension 20 #the ravening war #coffin run #misfits and magic #acofaf #burrow's end #a crown of candy #the unsleeping city #neverafter

[letsquestjess]

My Symphony - Part 2 (Tech x GN!Reader)

Summary: Following your blossoming relationship, Tech takes up the cello and grapples with composing a piece for you.

Word count: 2.1K

Warnings: Nothing explicit but implications of it, so 18+ / MDNI. Set pre-order 66.

A/N: After @freesia-writes tagged me in this post, I couldn't resist writing a second part. Little disclaimer, the only time I have seen a cello played is during junior orchestra a long time ago, so if any of the terminology and whatnot is a bit off, I apologise.

Part 1

-- -- -- -- --

In a stable rise and fall, the notes of the cello chased after the rhythm set by the Pantoran spinet and captured them in its grasp, melding and merging until the harmonies united into one beautiful melody. The crescendo peaked, and the song slowed into a temperate finish. 

Your fingers dropped from the keys and the last echo of the elegant theme faded from your bones. “Once we fine-tune that middle section,” you said, organising the sheets on your music stand into the right order, “it will sound flawless.”

“I agree,” Tech replied. He rebalanced the weight of the cello and set the bow aside, stretching his fingers in anticipation. “I am up for the challenge.”

“You always are,” you teased. Peeking over the array of books and folders, you caught the shy look that painted his expression. As your relationship had flourished, flirtations bloomed, infusing vibrant hues into your lives as you delved into your affections and embarked on romantic adventures. 

Since being exposed to your skills and your love, Tech’s world opened to the inspirations of music and he had taken up an instrument himself. He had reasoned that such a pursuit was a way to enhance his intellect and build a new talent, and while true, you speculated he may have also done it to spend more time with you between missions. From the coldest snows to the sweltering forests, his duty took him all over the galaxy, but he always returned to you. Always. 

That was what you kept at the forefront of your mind during each secret liaison and every bittersweet farewell. No matter how many rotations pushed you further away from each other, he came back. Scarred and bruised, shaken and bleeding, but alive. 

The trill of your datapad interrupted your thoughts, grounding you in the present and forcing you to let go of the lingering sadness of another inevitable goodbye. Multiple messages bombarded the screen, and with a huff, you rose from the bench. “Got to get going,” you said, manoeuvring around the spinet and planting a swift kiss to Tech’s cheek. “I’ll meet you here later.” 

The clone commando gave you a playful salute, his lips curling and his eyes crinkling at the edges in such an endearing way that it had you tempted to ignore the messages. But your colleagues needed assistance, and you would resolve everything quicker together. 

With a quick wave, you slipped out of the room, your form disappearing and the door gliding shut again. 

After making sure you’d gone, Tech retrieved his datapad from the pouch on his belt and combed through the array of folders. Finding the file he needed, he positioned the device on the stand and adjusted the cello. He drew the bow over the strings and followed the dotted notes on the screen. Deep, resonant tones provided a rich undertone to his song, and he ascended into a higher range. He wasn’t just creating music; it was a connection to emotion and feeling. More precisely, the sincere and comforting feelings you had given him. 

For weeks, he had poured his heart into the composition, wanting to amaze you, but the sweet melody faltered and abruptly ended, and the correct ending continued to evade him.

Ultimately, the final moments united a song and resonated with the listener even after it was over. Everything he heard since meeting you had concluded with a smooth, gradual finish, nothing sudden or rushed or jarring. The rhythm found a natural decline and a tranquil lull as though nestling into sleep. 

Nevertheless, he couldn’t quite achieve that same peaceful yet resolute conclusion for his own work. He suspected that the news of his impending deployment could be to blame. He still hadn’t mustered the courage to tell you. How could he bear to witness that disheartened look on your face, fully aware that he was the cause? At every goodbye, you tried to hide your sadness and showered him with affection, but he could sense the heaviness in your soul. War was not an ideal time for relationships, and he was a soldier, a commando, an elite operative with skills that constantly put him in the firing line. 

He packed away the cello with a discouraged huff and secured the bow into the lid. Zipping up the case, he shoved it at the back of the room where it found its place behind the box of forgotten orchestral equipment and discarded instruments. 

* * *

“Hey,” you said as you slipped into the Bad Batch’s barracks. The door closed with a hiss and the sterile wedge of light from the corridor dissolved into the hush. “I thought we were going to meet in the music room.”

“My brothers and I had some extra training,” Tech explained, goggles aimed at the electrical fusing tool as he welded weapons components. If it hadn’t been for the small, orbed lamp beside him, the only light illuminating the bunks would have been the occasional sparks shooting from the machine in his precise grasp. 

You understood. This wasn’t the first time Tech had been forced to cancel your plans to play music together after a rough day. His training regime was gruelling. Strict to the point of almost impossible expectations. And yet he and his brothers saw it thorough doggedly, dedicated heart and soul to the Republic and the ongoing war.

“How about a massage to soothe those aching muscles?” you offered. You perched on the edge of his bed and beckoned him with a wave.

“I am not in any pain at the moment,” he assured you, never taking his intense focus off his work. 

“Is that like the last time you weren’t in pain and ended up in the medical bay with a torn muscle?” 

Tech’s lips pursed, and he turned his gaze towards you. Leaning back on your hands, careful to avoid disturbing the jumble of machine parts and cables on his sleeping area. That warm, familiar look in your eyes that called him home. “I suppose I can take a break for a few minutes,” he relented. 

“That’s the spirit.” You assisted him in transferring the majority of the chaos onto the floor and urged him to seat himself on his bunk, positioning your legs on either side of him to serve as a support while you removed the upper half of his armour. Once it was safely nestled by the boxes of bolts and screws, you grazed your hands up to his shoulder blades, applying a firm pressure and eliciting a stream of muttered praises. 

“Better?” you asked. 

A drawn-out hum floated from him and he tilted his head forward to allow you access to the base of his neck. As you continued to caress away the day’s aches, his gloved fingers traced a soothing path up and down your leg. You wished the moment would never end. Soft. Tender. A world untouched by the war raging in the galaxy outside the rain-splattered window. 

“Feels like so long ago since I found you at the door of the music room, listening to me play,” you mused aloud. 

Tech peered at you and quirked his eyebrows. “I was merely fascinated by the instrument.” At the amused smirk on your face, he cleared his throat. “And the captivating person playing it.”

Your fingers slowed at the sincere glimmer in Tech’s eyes. The moment he closed in on you, you met him half-way, lips teasing in the most blissful distraction. Every thought that occupied your mind a moment ago faded. They didn’t matter. His proximity was all that mattered, the lingering singed scent of his projects and his body on yours. 

After a few fumbled manoeuvres, Tech positioned himself above you, scooping you up and enticing a leg up onto his hip. Your mouths moved in gentle tandem, tongues smoothing to deepen and heighten your bond. 

A comfortable exhale escaped from him before he delved back in. Your love had evolved from an exploratory nature to an effortless, conversational rhythm, where silent words were exchanged by touch. The sensation of each caress answered his own and built a crescendo of pleasure that he wished to savour for eternity. 

“My brothers will be away for a while,” he said in between gasps for air. “Would you stay with me?”

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to.” 

“How does forever sound?” 

Waves of heat tingled in your cheeks and a wide grin formed within the warmth. “Forever sounds perfect.” 

* * *

Early mornings were always strange on Kamino. For the most part, the persistent cloud cover cast a dark grey hue over everything and made it appear as though time stood motionless. The movement of the rain and sea were the only sign that the seconds still ticked on.

With an hour to spare before work started, you trudged to the music room, soothing your tired eyes with groggy rubs and stretching your arms out in front of you as you walked. 

After leaving the Batch’s barracks, you had settled into your own bedroom, but the silence in the emptiness only strengthened your restlessness. Despite your time with Tech, an irritating itch scratched at the corner of your thoughts, a suspicion that he was withholding something important. You had grown accustomed to his mannerisms, to the subtle twitches and shifts in his body language that signalled when he was hiding information, and last night you noted a few of those indicators. News circulated of additional mass deployments, so you had an inkling as to what he was concealing, but you respected his privacy; he would tell you at his own pace, as he always did. 

Entering the music room, soft twangs reached your ears and you all but tottered to a halt. Tech occupied his regular seat, plucking the cello strings and twisting the pegs to tune the instrument. “What are you doing in here?” you asked brightly, his presence a joyful surprise. “Don’t you have training?”

“Not this morning,” he answered. He slid the bow across the strings in a steady vibration and smiled as the correct sounds responded. “Do you have a moment? I wanted to show you something.”

“I have all the time in the galaxy for you.”

Tech willed away the flutter in his stomach and invited you to sit in the seat he arranged opposite him.

You shuffled around the chair and complied with his silent instruction. The room grew hushed as Tech’s eyes scanned the datapad on the music stand, the rhythmic ticking of the chronometer amplifying your increasing curiosity.

With a timid start, he began to play, the notes trembling and uncertain, as if shyly whispering from the strings, until his confidence bloomed with the ebb and flow. The bow bounced, sailed, sang like a divine song. Just for you. For your love. 

The sound was unfamiliar, unlike anything you had ever heard in your years of playing, but it struck a chord within you. The compassionate rhythm embraced you, while the utterance of notes soared, stirring your soul with promises of affection and devotion. 

It was then you realise why you hadn’t encountered this piece before. This enchanting melody was a fresh creation, unfolding with tones never experienced by anyone except you and earnestly crafted by the man who nurtured your heart. 

Tears welled in your eyes as he approached the final crest. His arm guided the notes and his nimble fingers placed them, dancing down the neck of the instrument to coax out every sliver of sound. With a lingering stretch, the cello fell silent. 

Tech went to speak, but noticing the teardrops, he rose from his seat and extended a hand to lift you from yours. He wiped the wet droplets threatening to fall and pressed kisses to the fallen ones. “I hope these are joyous tears.”

“That was beautiful,” you breathed. “I’m… I’m a little speechless. I had no clue you were composing a piece of your own.” 

“After weeks of struggling with the concluding section, last night, I found the inspiration I was looking for.” Weathered hands grazed yours, thumbs playing across the lines on your palms. “A symphony for my symphony.” 

With fingers splayed on his cheeks and his arms winding around your waist, you brought him closer for a kiss, lost in a moment that belonged only to you. 

“I have to go away again for a while,” he admitted against your lips, refusing to hide it from you any longer. An increasing number of troops were being deployed every day, and he got the sense you knew his own departure was imminent. To pretend otherwise would be a direct offence to your intelligence and the bond you shared. “My squad is heading to Kallar, but I shouldn’t be too long.” 

At the dip of your head and the small swallow, Tech redirected your gaze to him, his eyes never leaving yours. “I will come back,” he promised, his words warm on your skin as he sealed the vow with a kiss to your forehead. “When have I ever not returned to you?” 

TAGLIST (Message if you’d like to be added, 18+ only)

@skellymom @freesia-writes @the-hexfiles @theeyesofasoldier @multi-fan-dom-madness @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @tech-aficionado @techsriduur @dangraccoon @starrylothcat @jediknightjana @mssbridgerton @trixie2023

#tbb #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #sw tbb fanfic #sw tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfic #the bad batch fanfiction #sw tbb #sw the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb x reader #tbb x you #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #tbb tech #tbb tech x you #tbb tech x reader #tech x you #tech x reader

[lakesbian]

How do you think Alec would have handled getting the Valkyrie treatment? Being made into a puppet in the same way that he did to other people, his sacrificial suicide being subverted by another cape who uses people as tools but in a much more complete and permanent sense, coming back wrong and having his cape identity irrevocably a part of his body and self, and no longer being able to take off the mask, is this anything?

see i've rotated this extensively in my mind before because i think coming up with how a cape's design would turn out if they got glastig uained is a really fun exercise (do that shit to lisa for some Fun eyeball body horror!!) but i'm struggling to come up with what would happen to alec :( the most obvious answer is the crown becoming like. Attached. to his head. but id ont know if that's too far out there. there's also the concept of having his face frozen in a permanent smirking expression but i feel like that would go Too tragically counter to the point of a 'surprise hes back again' au wherein he would be expected to. yknow. realize and experience some of his feelings again at some point. so yeah i'd need someone else to help me figure that one out.

anyway the actual experience of being glastig uained. if i recall correctly in ward brian says it was basically just like waking up feeling like everything from before he died was just a few days ago not Years ago so i don't think alec would care that much that someone was using his ghost or whatever for shit while he was dead, relative 2 all the other problems in his life. wouldnt even notice with the type of shit hes got going on. the big reason why this au doesn't really work is that it's just Wildly Unproductively Depressing. it seems like ciara only starts bringing random people back by the time aisha is like. what. 20?

it works Fine and Actually Thematically Interesting Well that brian is like oh FUCK youve GROWN UP when he gets back because it's relevant 2 their sibling dynamics. but it does. it does not work if alec gets back and aisha is like 20. it's just depressing. from alec's PoV it would be "congrats you've been brought back into a world where your best and only friend is too old and character-developmented for you to actually have a close connection with even though for you it feels like she was still your age only a few days ago and also your fucking shit ass siblings are here too and btw the world ended so all of the nice luxuries you were enjoying previously are not options anymore. go feed the earth gimel sheep boy." and from aisha's perspective her best friend would be back but in a monkeys paw way where he did not get to grow up with her and he's still little and sad and fucked up and more like one of his siblings that she's caring for/trying to help vs the equal best friendship she Wants but Can't Have because he is Fifteen. so now everything sucks and is sad for everyone involved. :(.

i would say "on the 'up'side this is a hot new contender for scenarios wherein lisa could feasibly decide alec is her new sopping wet fixer-upper" but she already has an even more absurd and unstable option (that one cop) so as usual alec remains background. btw he would be offended on taylors behalf that lisa had replaced taylor with victoria (who he does not like because shes annoying) and entirely oblivious that taylor had ever thought or said anything about him being sucks and utterly lacking in interiority. AUs that have potential to be funny wrt alec's interactions with the other undersiders but are wildly fucking depressing when you get to his interactions with aisha.

if we fudge a bit and say ciara brings him back like riiight after gold morning aisha would only be a bit over a year older than him so that's more doable in terms of character development and eventual reconnection but it'd still be a mess. i'm not articulating my explanation of how aisha's character development works rn and i don't feel like saying something wrong so i'll just leave it here but trust me it'd still be a mess. maybe an interesting one but a mess

#ask #worm spoilers #scarf don't look

[weirdmageddon]

long meditation on jade and dave's relationship - part 1

here's a three-part heavy homestuck meta. took me about 3 days to scrobble together and format and everything

part 2 part 3 cooking

i apologize in advance for the disorganization of my thoughts. after writing it i realized this is probably one of the clearest glances into how my mind thinks associatively so everything relates in some way to something else in here. the foundations for my thoughts might be invisible to others because they can’t see the connections ive built upon but you can probably see them here, and that strong foundation is also why i care so much about them and why i chose to lay it all out. sometimes i feel like i have Got to get this tangled associative web out of my head and into some form of writing so other people can be like, “oh so This is why you have so much to say” and can just. see into my head and where it all comes from for me. people have expressed interest and the general opinion tends to be that people like hearing my thoughts a lot so yeah. pov you are in my brainwebs. seatbelts everyone get on the magic school bus in that bitch

some time ago i saw this post i saw as i was going through florals jade tag again. my homestuck hyperfixation flared up again and ive been hyperfocused on dave and jade and particular just absolutely entering these monotropic black holes over them and turning them around at different angles and looking at discussions and what people thought both now and in the past and now that im older i can appreciate them even more. ive always been a fan of dave and jade both, but i cant even lie dave has my whole heart so maybe im biased as well. but i like to believe that regardless of my liking for dave and interest in not even x-ray scanning him just straight up 3D mri scanning him and rotating him in my head that my argument is still very reasonable. i just understand his psychology a lot

i want to preface this by saying i absolutely love floral and im so glad she’s on the hsbc team because i know she can do jade harley justice. one of the best jadesters fr. we all come into media analysis with different personal experiences and perspectives, and i understand this was from her perspective as someone who had run ins with dumb boys and relates a lot to jade which is why she can put so much love into her <3 i just found myself disagreeing with some of the arguments that she presented in that post just as a peer who also read the comic from my own perspective. keep in mind i also love jade to bits and want the best for her

so yea this isn’t a targeted post at all. it just got the juices flowing and inspired me to actually write my pre-existing thoughts down and i used it as a springboard for them

i think it ended up being pretty insightful overall especially because i was stoned as fuck writing it and ive come to realize being stoned amplifies and improves the output of my deeply inwardly associative thought processes tenfold. or maybe weed just changes how significant it feels. maybe a little of both

part 1: on using davesprite as a basis for interpreting jade's relationship with all daves

i love what hussie does with alternate versions of characters and. it’s one of the coolest things about homestuck’s characterization. like floral quoted:

… we see that Jack is a simple man, no matter what name he goes by. He is, if not much else (and he’s not), impatient and violent. We only got the briefest glimpse into these qualities when we were first introduced to him on Derse. But now we get to spend much more time with him, albeit in the form of a completely different character. This is another bit of sneaky utility provided by this intermission tangent. It serves as an arc to help indirectly characterize the villain of the early acts. Having multiple copies of a character operating in totally different circumstances turns out to be a great stealth characterization tactic, and it gets used much more aggressively later in the story. In fact, it proves to be inseparable from one of the story’s most essential themes. (Hussie’s Intermission commentary)

so i agree in principle and think the alt self thing is fucking brilliant

however, i disagree with the argument it’s supporting.

So, not the same character, but if switched, I would go out on a limb and say that Dave would experience all the same issues as Davesprite did, but without the “bird” part acting as an easy explanation. That doesn’t make Dave responsible but it does speak volumes to how their personalities respond to each other, insinuates that a relationship involving any Dave would end badly for Jade and that “Real” Dave indeed has Some Issues To Deal With.

i don't agree that dave and davesprite should be compared in this context. yes they are splinters of the same character and floral is right on the money in that canon deflecting the relationship failing on "bird issues" doesn't really explain anything meaningful, but i do not think its the case that all of jade’s relationships with dave are doomed to fail because of what we saw with jade and davesprite.

yes, if switched, dave strider would be practically identical to davesprite since they were the same exact person until a branch in the timeline

however, it's the unique things davesprite has been through that made him like this. davesprite has baggage that dave doesn't. a timeline where john was tricked into fighting his denizen early and died and jade couldn't get in on time and was presumably wiped out dinosaur style on earth. with alt future dave's year-worth of knowledge, gear, loot, and experience, he rescinded his player status and "realness" as a human person to be a game guide for his naive past self right before the timeline split in order for himself and his friends to continue existing.

that would mess anyone up mentally. it's no wonder he's jaded, no pun intended. he's depressed as shit and bitter and probably has trauma issues unrelated to his bro, though they do compound on it. yes they both experienced bro's abuse but i'm talking about the differences between alpha timeline dave and davesprite; right now im not going to talk about things that are the same about them prior to the timeline split because it applies to them both so it's redundant.

essentially what's setting them apart is their experiences playing sburb, their chronological age (alt future dave/davesprite had been making timeloops over a span of four months and he says that in total the time from his chronological perspective is close to a YEAR in sburb grinding shit out before he goes back), their relationship to their friends and how their friends see them and how they see themselves, their ontological natures as beings, what their purposes are.

davesprite had his ontological status as a person and purpose changed. he assumed he'd be the one playing and doing important main shit in the alpha timeline with all his friends but then it turns out that wasn't the case due to the events that went down in his timeline. and becoming a sprite solidly changed his degree of existence. davesprite's best friend john asking if he can talk to "the real dave" is when i think he realized just how fucked up his existence as a person has become despite him doing pretty much everything for everyone for nearly a YEAR before the alpha timeline was even able to get properly started. if davesprite didn’t exist, nobody would have (john needed to live to do ectobiology). davesprite knew this and weaponized it against john who john treated as a secondary, lesser dave. so of course he’s kind of an asshole. it’s like his efforts and sacrifices meant squat to the people he considered his best friends because they didn’t experience it. to john he just suddenly appeared from the future and became a sprite.

this is heavy shit for davesprite that alpha timeline dave does NOT have to go through and it did change him in ways that cannot be said about alpha timeline dave. this is not a universal dave experience. so while it’s true that dave has the capacity of act like davesprite under those exact circumstances, alpha timeline dave didn’t undergo those that led to davesprite’s more miserable traits. therefore i don’t think it’s fair to conflate jade’s failed relationship with davesprite in particular as informing of how most of jade and dave’s relationships would unfold, because davesprite has been in exceptionally tragic circumstances, coming to terms with the state of his own existence. the last thing davesprite needs is romance. alpha timeline dave does not carry this burden.

Everyone believed that what was creating the dissonance wasn’t a central part to Dave’s character but an aftereffect of Bird Syndrome. Which you can’t blame them for because there’s nothing that would lead them to think differently. Every character besides Dirk is completely in the dark about Bro’s abuse and Dave stated he’d probably never tell any of the Betas. Which is fine, no one’s owed to know somebody’s baggage. But when you don’t give people a means to understand what you’re going through, especially when it leads you to hurt them, its only inevitable everyone’s going to be confused and going to come to conclusions using what they do know.

rebuttal to this: as i said earlier i don’t buy the whole bird issues thing and i get the handwaviness about being fused with a bird being john’s explanation for davesprite’s bullshittery. however i think it’s important to mention that john and jade both question if becoming a sprite might have had something to do with his change.

being fused with a bird never bothered him, as jade says. it was all the other baggage that came with the prototyping.

this includes playing the game for way longer than anyone else and mindlessly grinding from the ground up for about a year, then turning himself into a game construct and having his ontological level of existence as the platonic ideal form of dave strider lowered in the eyes of his friends.

JOHN: like what? JADE: its hard to explain JADE: just some slight differences in personality i guess JOHN: he still raps sometimes. JADE: yes... JADE: so? JOHN: i just thought i would mention that. JADE: ok i will admit i cant really tell if his rapping style has changed JOHN: trust me, it hasn't. JADE: i dont know if the differences are because he is a sprite JADE: or because he lived for a while in a different timeline... (p.4733)

JOHN: why is he such a basket case? he's like regular dave, but like, aloof enigma edition. JOHN: maybe it's because he's part bird? i think becoming a bird and a sprite did something weird to him. JADE: i dont think being a bird ever bothered him JADE: like i said... its all more complicated than that JOHN: normal dave was so much more level headed. JOHN: i have to admit, i spend a lot of time wondering what he and rose are up to. JADE: me too JOHN: ehh... JOHN: maybe it's for the best he broke up with you. JADE: why? JOHN: well, what kind of future do you think you would have with him? JOHN: he's a sprite. like really, what even is a sprite? how long do they live? will he still be around if we win the new game we are allegedly trying to get to? JADE: i dont know (p.5294)

as for the bro abuse thing, i can’t tell if floral’s position here is that davesprite is fucked up and had a failed relationship with jade because of bro’s abuse, and that dave would also necessarily have failed relationships with jade because he had the same experiences and also doesn’t tell anybody? the wording there is kind of vague and can be interpreted in different ways but that’s how i interpreted it.

they are right that bro’s abuse is something dave keeps to himself. but remember that dave has also deluded himself about it to cope. he doesn’t know what to think of it himself. both alpha timeline dave and davesprite have this baggage, but we explore it more with alpha timeline dave.

i know dave said in the post-retcon timeline when having a conversation with dirk that he could never tell karkat all of this or any of the betas about his abuse. but i still find this pesterlog interesting and i want to put a spotlight on it. even while dave was still chugging that copium, jade was the person he was closest to opening up about the nature of his relationship to his bro at this point. remember this is quite early on in the comic and he didn’t have 3 years on the meteor to contemplate it yet when he said this to her, his bro had just died at this point

GG: anyway dave im really sorry about your bro/dad GG: you were pretty close with him right? TG: meh it was a pretty bizarre relationship by any standard TG: fightin off wave after wave of face pumicing puppet ass every day TG: always being on guard for stealth attacks in the middle of the night while getting up to go to the fucking bathroom GG: heheh TG: but i guess it all sorta amounted to some vague unspoken semblance of kinship TG: if thats a thing TG: like if honor among thieves is something then lets call it camaraderie among ironic rapping roof ninjas TG: but thanks GG: sure TG: i thought about taking his sword TG: when i was there TG: but i couldnt TG: couldnt really bring myself to try to pull it out it was too weird GG: dave we have to stop him!!!!! TG: what GG: jack! GG: he shouldnt get away with this TG: you think (p.3204)

even if he’s in denial about it, deciding to point out the positivity he can rationalize about it to avoid spending too much time thinking deeply about it (it makes him uncomfortable), he’s getting closer to acknowledging the truth here that shit wasn’t normal, about it being “bizarre” and you can tell hes being genuine here when he thanks jade for her concern about his loss

dave then continues talking about his thoughts/feelings on the situation after jade says “sure”, as if he took her concern as an invite to open up about his thoughts even when it’s something vulnerable for him that he tried putting on false bravado in front of terezi about. jade then abruptly changes topic to what’s to be practically done about these tragedies—dave was still on the topic of his bro and she changed the topic to jack noir without clarifying, hence he goes “what”

this is interesting because terezi tried to get something out of him about this and was met by riddly puzzlecock and false bravado but he’s pretty straight up about his current feelings with jade. basically it really depends on the person dave is talking to.

in this specific argument, floral approaches grimbark jade solely from the position of her being uninhibited which is true in many ways, but grimbark jade is also quite nefarious and not in her right mind. i think that even if jade were unihibited and spoke her mind, she wouldn’t have it in her push the mayor into lava to get dave to fight her. thats the evil. floral does acknowledge this in a separate post though, but it’s not really touched on in her argument im discussing. i also want to reiterate that even though it might seem like im violently ripping this post limb from limb its really just something to bounce my pre-existing thoughts off of. this is all written with civility towards and respect for floral

even roxy says something about this—that the schtick doesnt suit her. like it doesnt feel like something she’d have the natural capacity to really be without some external influence

ROXY: so alt grannydaughter english ROXY: whyre u part dog + evil lookin JADE: DO NOT CALL ME THAT!!! ROXY: what JADE: my surname is harley not english JADE: but you may refer to me as jade, or ma'am if you are feeling especially nervous and deferential JADE: which as it turns out is the way you should be feeling about me, ALWAYS >:B ROXY: LOL!!! JADE: lol WHAT ROXY: jade i am in no way buying that ur normally this pompous and tyrannical ROXY: the shtick rly doesnt suit you its so obvious (p.6291)

so i don’t think everything jade says here should be taken to heart about her real feelings or how she would express them if she was being genuine as her normal self. we know jade can get mad but i think we’re giving her evil possession a little too much credit

that’s why i was personally disappointed in grimbark jade when homestuck was ongoing, is it felt like it didnt really give us anything? it was like empty calories while just waiting for the regular jade to come back which she never did. it is interesting to look at in retrospect to see if there’s anything there but…grimbark jade isn't exactly a reliable narrator. i guess none of them are but like, especially not grimbark jade. if i can’t separate what’s genuinely jade under this mess from what isn’t then what’s the point?

like for example this was left out of floral’s argument when showing this part, but in the comic grimbark jade tells dave that he’s “more messed up inside than davesprite” …. right after dave wouldnt comply with her demands to fight her and doesnt want to fight lord english. that’s…not really telling about anything at all for either of them. jade is evil and if things dont go the way she’s programmed to get them to go she’s gonna flip her lid. this is what i mean about her not being in her right mind

JADE: the fact is youre going to have to rely on those powers if you want to stand any chance against a lord of time JADE: it is safe to expect he can only be challenged by someone with a similar command over the aspect DAVE: why is that safe to expect DAVE: where are all these presumptions coming from DAVE: if you can use swords why dont you take the welsh cueball sword and fight him yourself DAVE: i bet you could fuck him up DAVE: youre probably even more extra strong now that youve succumbed to the bark side DAVE: did you ever think about that JADE: dave i am perfectly aware of the awesome powers granted to me by the bark side JADE: it does not matter JADE: i cant be the one to wield your sword against english JADE: it has to be you JADE: it is the will of the empress, and thats final DAVE: the empress can suck it DAVE: i have no intention of fighting him DAVE: and this isnt even me pulling more lame self aware reluctant hero junk DAVE: i am just straight up not going to do it DAVE: see thats not reluctance its just petulant refusal on my part DAVE: reluctant hero shit is when the guys like aw shucks i dunno if i wanna but deep down we all know he really does DAVE: but i really dont DAVE: why should i DAVE: i dont give a damn about lord english or his nebulous atrocities out in nowherespace DAVE: what kind of villain is someone you never met who hardly did anything evil to you or your friends directly DAVE: or even to anyone in your universe for that matter other than through some vague insidious influence DAVE: who even is this guy and why should i hate him DAVE: am i really supposed to be pissed off at a green muscle monster i never met DAVE: cause i aint pissed off at no muscle monster DAVE: hell wasnt he in some ass backwards way responsible for us existing in the first place? DAVE: or all of humanity for that matter?? DAVE: maybe i should thank him before chopping him up via welshscalibur JADE: jeez you sure have some issues JADE: honestly it has become very tiresome listening to this sort of thing JADE: i thought davesprite had problems JADE: his issues i could kind of understand JADE: i thought you might be different, being the alpha dave and all JADE: but no JADE: you might be even more messed up inside than he was! DAVE: what DAVE: why are you dragging that guy into this (p.6385 / 6386)

part 2

#homestuck #homestuck meta #dave strider #jade harley #davejade #davesprite #hs #homestuck analysis