#(valor's life has just been like

[mercymornsimpathizer]

💥💥💥uh oh! complaining alert!! 💥💥💥

[sailorrhansol]

Chat, is that Rizz? | j.ww (m)

Pairing: Streamer!Wonwoo x Streamer! F.reader 

❀ Summary: Your rivalry with Wonwoo has existed for as long as you’ve been streaming. It’s fun, and both of your communities love it. Wonwoo is happy to play along - at least until you question his rizz while live, and he feels like he should remind you just how much rizz he has.

❀ Word Count: 5,366

❀ Genre: Established Relationship, Faux Rivals 

❀ Type: Smut, a hint of fluff

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: This is so cheesy and stupid and I don’t care!! Explicit language, teasing and light antagonization, gamer and streamer speak in spots, sexually explicit content including spanking, fingering, unprotected sex, hint of overstimulation, playful banter and teasing during sex, bodily fluids, soft dom if you squint. UNEDITED.

❀ A/N: I don’t care that parts of this are kind of cringe, @daechwitatamic tells me to write so I write and I needed to  get out of a writing slump. Yes the game they are playing is Valorant. No I did not call it Valorant. Have I played Valorant in the last year? No! Anyway, please enjoy this shameless porn no plot! Also please don't arrest me for the fucking TERRIBLE puns.

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

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“You’re never going to hit Immortal with that strat, Wonwoo,” you tease, cringing as he gets gunned down by the enemy team’s Reyna. “Rotated too early.” 

“Here they go,” Seungcheol mutters into the mic, his exasperation making you grin as you fix your eyes on the screen. Like both you and Wonwoo, Seungcheol has already died in the round, watching as Mingyu navigates the map to pick up the bomb to attempt to save the round. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you while you were dead,” Wonwoo shoots back. You scrunch your nose, knowing that it is, unfortunately, true. “I was in the land of the living. You know. Because I didn’t dry peek long and die.” 

“Seungcheol told me to push site!”

“Maybe push with util, though? Or be better.”

On the right side of your screen, you can see your chat blowing up. You grin and roll your eyes - you aren’t actually bothered by Wonwoo and you know he isn’t mad either. Playing games with him always elicits teasing and a steady back and forth.

Once upon a time, his poking might bother you. Now, you’ve played enough games with Wonwoo over the last two years to know better. It’s all in good faith, and it’s part of the joke, this ongoing way the two of you bicker and go tit for tat. 

“I am nothing if not an accommodating teammate,” you offer back. Mingyu manages to get to the site, swinging wildly to check for enemies. “I’m a helper. I like to help people.”

“You can help me by shutting up,” Mingyu mutters. 

“Yeah,” Wonwoo echos, a smirk prominent in his voice. “Shut up.” 

“No I’m talking to you too,” Mingyu assures. “And you did rotate without me and too early. So she’s right.”

That shuts Wonwoo up, a chorus of laughter echoing in the headset as your team watches Mingyu try and go for the clutch. Your laughter fades and you mute yourself on Discord in an attempt not to distract Mingyu, eyes flicking over to the comments flooding in on your stream.

It’s a rewarding feeling to see how many there are, donation notifications popping up on the top of your screen making your heart stutter a little. You can see Seokmin moderating as usual in the chat, reminding people the commands for frequently asked questions and removing anything weird. 

There is a lot of weird. 

“Thank you for the dono, Shaezy98. Yes, PiCheolwinning, I hit Immortal a few days ago! What do you guys think about doing a nonstop stream until I hit Radiant? Would that be fun?” 

Resounding yes responses flood the comments. You grin, pulling your legs up into the chair to make small talk with the community you’ve so carefully built over the last few years. You see a suggestion in the comments that makes you laugh, leaning forward to unmute yourself in Discord. 

“Hey Wonwoo,” you ask. “My chat wants us to try 1v1 where we customize each other’s settings. Thoughts?” 

It’s a common question. People love the dynamic you and Wonwoo specifically have, enjoying seeing the friendly rivalry grow over the years. You can recall several streams you’ve done just playing together, hosting charity events and promoting new games as a dynamic duo. 

Some wonder if you’re together. There’s no hard evidence, but there's chemistry there. A lightness to your banter that comes with a familiarity your fans try to piece together, a gentleness that sounds the edges of your insults to make sure the other knows your kidding. 

Wonwoo lets out a deep hum. “You’re gonna go demon mode on my settings. Then I’d have to change them back.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course he’s worried about his settings, as if he can’t export them. “Is that a no?”

“What’s in it for me? Besides my fucked up settings and the risk you change all my weapon skins.”

Clearing your throat, you put on your best telemarketer voice. “The benefits to this offer are endless. For a limited time only, you can take advantage  of quality time spent with me-” 

“Not a benefit.” 

You ignore his interruption, a vein in your forehead ticking at the comment. “You can protect your honor and pride as a gamer, and as a special early bird offer, I’ll give all donations from that stream to a charity of your choosing. Thoughts?” 

Mingyu ends up losing the round, earning a resounding sigh and curse from everyone on the team. You move your mouse around to click through weapons and set yourself up for the next round. “They’re going to force,” you say, momentarily distracted from your sales pitch by strategy. “Wonwoo I can buy you a marshall.”

“Yeah.” 

You make the transaction for him and drop the weapon so he can pick it up, noting the comments coming in from viewers.

NoLo88: See, she always does stuff for him - I swear they’re together!!!

EzBoyZ: No way would she date him.

NoLo88: Are you kidding? Have you seen Wonwoo? He’s like the hottest streamer ever.

LoLPog69: Ugh I hope they’re not dating, she’s better single. 

 “See, I’m fun. I’m nice. I’m a team player who helps win games. What do you say?” 

“Fine, it’s a date.” 

The way he so casually says it makes your stomach flip. You hesitate for a moment, blinking in surprise before you realize he’s said it without really thinking about it. Biting  your bottom lip to fight a smile, you ask, “Oh? A date? Chat, is that rizz?” 

“Oh fuck off,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to cover up his mistake. You can’t help it - your smile spreads as he rushes to gloss over what he said. “It’s a figure of speech.” 

“He’s trying to rizz me, chat!”

“In your dreams.”

“You should change your tag from WonuWizard to WonuRizzard.” Wonwoo curses as he gets killed. You cackle, killing an enemy and taking their gun. “Oo, an operator. Do you want this, Wonwoo? What about changing your tag to RizzardOfOz?” 

Wonwoo groans on the other end of the mic and you can imagine the way he pushes back in his chair, sinking a little further down as he spectates the match. “Yes, save the op for me, please. Also, get your chat out of mine. I’m going to get a Rizzstraining order.” 

You note the way he says for me when he asks for the weapon you’ve picked up to keep for him. It is a favor to him, intended for him. Your viewers notice. 

Seungcheol swears. “You two are insufferable to play with sometimes. We’re trying to win a game.” 

Mingyu huffs. “Just stop Rizzsponding, Cheol. They’ll shut up eventually.” 

With a laugh, you settle in and focus on the game. Even as the teasing dies down, you and Wonwoo fall into a comfortable give and take, working together to win the next few rounds and eventually, the entire match after Wonwoo closes out the game with an ace. 

“Wow.” You lean back in your chair, stretching. It’s getting late at night, and you feel a little tired. “Mad Rizzpect, Wonwoo. Up your rizz game and maybe I’ll go on a date with you.” 

“Up my rizz game?” His tone has shifted as everyone starts talking over one another, Seungcheol and Mingyu getting into it over something sports related. You’re focused on the soft purr of Wonwoo’s voice, though. The raspiness of it. “If I wanted to rizz you, I would.” 

Fuck. His voice. You shift a little in your seat, clicking around your secondary monitor that is off stream to pull up Wonwoo’s stream. It loads, immediately showing his dark room with slow pulsing RGB lights in the background and shelving displaying different collectible items. 

Wonwoo looks like he always does: leaned back casually in his seat, the glow of his computer reflecting in the lens of his black-frame glasses. Dark bangs hang in his eyes, the rest of his hair hidden by the hood that is pulled up over his head. He’s chewing on one of the strings of his hoodie as he talks to his chat, voice gentle.

His hoodie has a little animated version of him over the left side of the chest, the character winking and giving finger hearts. You feel your lips twitch - you always loved the little cartoon version of himself. As always, he looks totally at ease. It’s the same even in an intense game, Wonwoo never feeling the need to lean closer to the screen or showing the tension in his shoulders.

Calm. Cool. Collected.

Except when you can force a rise out of him, of course. 

A bunch of notifications flood in your chat. You look over to them, reading through them and grinning. You pull your mic toward you, shaking your head. “Ugh I have all the Wonwoo apologists in my chat defending your rizz.” 

“Good” he shoots back. You watch in delayed time as he smirks on his end. He so rarely does a full smile, but you know it’s beautiful when he does. “You need to take Rizzponsibility for implying I have no rizz.” 

“No way,” Mingyu gasps. “Two Wonwoo puns in a single night?”

“Puns and attempted rizz?” You ask, cocking your head. “Huge day for Wonwoo fans everywhere.” 

“Again, that wasn’t rizz. You’ll know it when I use it.”  

“Sure, sure. Or maybe you just… don’t have any.” 

You watch the tick in Wonwoo’s jaw. A grin spreads across your face and you try to suppress it, knee bouncing in anticipation as you watch the minute changes in his expression. He drums his fingers on the armrest of his gaming chair, hypnotizing you for a moment. He has long, elegant fingers paired with a beautiful set of hands. 

“You really think I have no rizz?” he asks, voice low and oh you know that voice. You suppress a shiver and shake your head ‘no’ before realizing that he can’t see you. Or he does - because he says, “Use your words like a big girl.” 

If you weren’t on stream, your eyes might roll back in your head at the soft purr of his voice, the way in which he immediately switches gears, put out by your accusations that you already know are false. 

And because you’re you, you push him a little more, interested to see where it goes.  “Are you watching my stream, Jeon Wonwoo?”

“Mhmm. Trying to learn rizz, since apparently I have none. Go on, show the class. What have you got?”

Seungcheol and Mingyu both ooo and quiet down, putting you on the spot. Heat tiptoes up your neck to your ears. Being a streamer by nature is being under the spotlight, especially when you have a high follower account. This is different though, the pressure suddenly flipped to you as your friends settle in, waiting. 

“It’s all about the charizzma,” you joke, voice a little raspy. You swallow, eyes flicking to your secondary monitor where you can see Wonwoo watching his screen with a growing grin. “I can’t teach you how to have that, Jeon.” 

“What can you teach me, Angel?” 

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. You know that commanding tone anywhere, the soft shift from teasing to something a little darker, a little sharper. He doesn’t care that you’re both on the screen for live viewers, that this will be recorded, or that you have friends on the call, who have taken a backseat to watch the fencing match. 

And the angel. Sure, it’s a small part of your brand and gamertag, but the way Wonwoo says it implies something intimate. Darker. A gentle caress of the word against your skin. 

When you come up with nothing, Wonwoo grins on screen, devastatingly handsome. He knows he’s surprised you. “Not a problem,” he quips. “I’m an excellent teacher. I can teach you how to rizzpond to a direct question.” 

He surprises you by ending the stream suddenly. You blink in surprise, both Seungcheol and Mingyu calling Wonwoo’s name, assuming his internet has gone out or has been interrupted. With shaking hands, you remove one side of your headphones, listening. Heavy footsteps sound in the hall and you squeak, hitting the hotkey to show be right back on your stream.

Wonwoo stands in the doorway. He gives you a single, lopsided smirk before waltzing toward you, a predator stalking prey. His dark eyes are focused on you, drinking you in. 

“Noooo,” you yell at him, giddy and panicked all at the same time. You hold your hands out to push him away but he links your fingers instead pressing his palms against yours and pulls you toward him. He jerks your computer chair toward him, your knees crashing against his. “Hiiiii.” 

“No rizz, huh?” his voice is barely a murmur. 

“Ummm,” you glance over to your set up where the be right back glows. Wonwoo follows your line of sight before dropping his gaze back to you, eyes asking a question. “Do you… want to?”

Elation falls across his face. “I’m down if you are. You know that.” 

Chewing your lip, you smile and nod. You’ve long been planning to reveal that the two of you have been dating for a long time, and the present feels right. Not to mention the implication of him ending the stream and you slamming the be right back on at the same time. 

Wonwoo leans down and grabs the arms of your computer chair, spinning it around and pushing you back into the frame. He leans over your shoulder, the smell of sandalwood and lavender enveloping you, making your head spin. He hits the hotkey to turn your stream and mic back on. 

Your eyes drop to where you’re displayed in the camera, Wonwoo leans against the back of your chair, chest pressed to your shoulder as he grins at the camera. Your thighs clench, seeing that same cocky smirk you’re used to making a brief appearance on camera. 

“Sorry chat,” Wonwoo announces. “Sorry Cheol, Mingyu. I have to handle the disrizzspect going on in my own home. Say byeeee to chat, Angel.” 

“Byeeee,” you squeak on instinct, watching as he waves while your comments explode. He closes out the stream and cuts off the Discord call where Seungcheol and Mingyu are screeching, shutting down your computer entirely so there’s no chance for accidents. 

Stomach fluttering, you take off your headphones and look up at Wonwoo to find he’s already staring down at you, dark eyes hungry. You slide down a little in your chair, feeling your mouth go dry. You got what you wanted, but now that he’s there and you can feel the intensity crackling between you, you can’t help but balk just a little.

“What?” he asks, lips twitching at the corner. “Rizz got your tongue?” 

“I guess maybe you have a little rizz.”

“Ohhh, I see.” Wonwoo pulls your seat backward, spinning your chair around so that you face the bed. He lets go of the chair and walks backward, sitting on the edge of your bed. You stare at him, heart beating, breath quickening. “Now that there’s no one here I have rizz.” 

You pout. “It’s our brand.”

“Mhmm.” He leans back on your bed, the mattress dimpling under his weight. He pats his thigh with one hand. “You just love getting under my skin, don’t you?”

You climb out of your computer chair, stumbling a little as the blood starts to flow from where they were crisscrossed. He tsks at you as you regain your footing, padding over to where he sits, legs spread, thighs straining against his athletic shorts. 

Carefully, you climb into his lap. Your body buzzes as you settle over him, one knee on either side of his hips. You lean your weight into him, hands resting on top of his shoulders. Even through his hoodie, you can feel how warm his skin is. 

“Are you happy now?” 

“Huh?” 

One of his hands leaves the bed and cracks against your ass, starling you. You squeak and lean forward, the sting making your eyelids flutter. “You’re not even listening, are you?” 

“I wasn’t.” 

His hand kneads your ass through your shorts, soothing the sting from the slap. “I asked, are you happy now? Did you get what you wanted?” You nodded, letting your head hang down, burying your face in his neck. It’s warm and safe there, your thoughts sticky as his hand continues to explore your ass. “Remember when I said use your words like a big girl?”

“Yes. Yes, I got what I wanted.”

“And what was it you wanted?”

When you hesitate to answer, too focused on your slamming heart and stuttered breathing, his hand comes down across your ass again. You curse, melting into him, letting him bear your weight entirely. “Wanted to rile you up.”

“It worked.”

“I can tell.” 

Wonwoo’s hand trails to the edge of your shorts, fingers dancing along your thighs. You’re hype aware of his touch and the way it sends fire through you, stomach in knots and cunt aching between your legs as he fingers the hem of your shorts. 

“Is it okay that I interrupted your stream?”

The question is so much softer than he was a second ago. You lift your head to look at him. His face swims into focus, a momentary flicker of nervousness. Wonwoo is rarely impulsive, but the move to announce your rivalry is more romantic than most people knew was unplanned and spur of the moment. 

“It’s definitely okay. Is it okay with you?”

He nods, leaning forward to run his nose up the side of your neck. He inhales, taking in your scent and humming while the hand running along your shorts pulls at the fabric. “Just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be upset.”

“No. Now the people in your chat know you’re mine.”

“Yours?” His mouth brushes against the hollow of your throat, hot and wet. Your head tilts back, lips parting as his tongue flicks against your skin. “Just wanted to claim me, is that it?”

“Your fans are horny?”

He nips your neck and a moan drips from you. “Yours aren’t?” 

“Not like yours.” 

“Too bad for them. There’s only one angel who can get under my skin.” Wonwoo takes you by the waist and rolls you over. Your breath leaves you in a huff as your back hits the mattress. He leans over you, knees caging you in on either side of your hips as he presses his mouth to your jawline, sucking kisses up toward your ear. “Only one drawback - she thinks I have no rizz.” 

You bring your hands to the hem of his hoodie, desperate to feel him. Sliding your hands under the fabric, you press your palms against his stomach, feeling his muscle flex as his skin warms your hands. His mouth is wet against your skin, teeth nipping your earlobe teasingly, drawing a raspy sound from you. 

“I think,” you gasp as he drops a hand between your legs to press against your clothed cunt, “That she might be wrong about the rizz.”

Wonwoo’s fingers apply pressure, barely circling your clit through the fabric. It worsens the ache between your legs, your thoughts getting scattered as you squirm underneath him. He brings his mouth to yours, stealing a greedy kiss. 

This is the part of Wonwoo that you know only you see. Where the calm and collected gamer turns into an all consuming force, stealing the breath from your lungs as his tongue presses against yours. You kiss him back with equal want, whimpering into his mouth as he presses his fingers a little harder against you. 

“Please,” you breathe against his mouth between kisses. “I know I was mean but please.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m sorry!”

“Are you, though?” He mouths down your neck to your collarbone, the sting of his teeth soothed by the rough pass of his tongue. “You got exactly what you wanted and more.” 

“I ammmm.”

His laughter is rough. The hand between your legs comes up to the top of your shorts, dipping past the waistline to sink downward. He groans when he feels the dampness of your underwear, the way he’s already worked you up. 

“No rizz,” he mutters to himself. You throb when you feel his fingers pull your underwear to the side, knuckles running up your wet folds where he stops at your clit to press down. Your nails scrap against his abs, body tensing under the stimulation. “This is a wet fucking fucking pussy for someone who has no rizz.” 

You can’t think of a response, mind reeling as Wonwoo plays with you properly. You writhe in his hands, melting as his fingers brush up and down your slit before coming back up to gently circle your clit. Your feet kick a little under him, unable to sit still as he works you - teases you. 

Fuck you realize he might do this all night. 

“You have a lot of rizz,” you breath, pressing the back of your head into the bed, gasping in surprise as he sinks a finger into your entrance. Already you’re clenching down on him, wanting more. “Fuck.” 

“I don’t know… maybe I just… lack what you need.”

“No,” you answer quickly. “Just… ugh like that.” 

The ease at which he knows how to touch you makes everything feel tenfold. Wonwoo knows you like the back of your hand, both intimately and mentally. What had started as two streamers annoying one another had turned into friendship at some point - you’d met him at a convention and realized he was far gentler and softer than you imagine. 

That had turned into something further - something deeper. The want when you were around him was something that you hadn’t expected, but it hasn’t gone away since. Even though you get to have him like this, finger stroking your inner walls and palm pressed against your clit, you always want more. Can’t stop wanting him. 

“Want,” you mutter, the only word you can think of. You feel the smile pressed against your skin, the wetness slicking his fingers as he presses in a second, stretching you. Your hips can’t off the bed but he pushes you back down, making you whine. 

“Why should I?” 

“Cause.”

“Not a good enough answer.” 

Wonwoo starts to retract his hand and you scramble, digging your nails into his hip to claw him back toward you. “Cause I love you.” 

“Closer…” 

“Cause I want you.”

“So close.”

“Cause I need you.” 

He hums in thought. “Good enough. Help me take these fucking shorts off.” 

Wonwoo pulls his hand out of your shorts and leans upward. You rip your hands from his hoodie to slide your shorts off, peeling your underwear down as you do. He taps you on the thigh, fingers sticky from your arousal as he shifts higher. You know what he’s asking, scooting backward on the mattress to give yourself more real estate.

His mouth comes back down to yours, lips soft. You love kissing him, tongue tangling as you bring your hands up to slide your fingers through his hair. He makes an appreciative sound, one hand supporting his weight as he hovers over you while the other slots back between your legs to resume where he left off.

Unrestricted by your shorts, he’s able to thrust his fingers properly. Your gasps break his kisses, hips rolling to meet the stroke of his fingers. He’s always been skilled with his hands, able to peel you apart, pressing the pads of his fingers into that sweet spot over and over again. 

His thumb presses against your clit, adding stimulation as he moves it from side to side slowly, aided by the wetness gathered there. You let yourself get lost in him, pressure tightening in your stomach as you climb toward an orgasm. 

Your hands are everywhere - pulling at his hair, pulling at his shoulders, pulling at his arms. He lets you grip at him, lets you squirm beneath his ministrations, letting you have free reign. It’s a favor to you, in a way. He’s letting you get away with your earlier teasing, not drawing it out like he’s known to do, not making you beg.

Moans bracket the wet sound his fingers make in your cunt as he works you to the edge. Your breaths come out in short hisses behind clenched teeth and your thighs squeeze his hand. He’s unfettered, laughing roughly against your ear, breath hot.

“What would your chat say?” he asks. “Huh? What would they say if they knew you fell apart like this? That your cunt melts around my fingers.”

“Fuck,” you whisper, so close to your orgasm that your ears are starting to buzz. 

“All this time they thought we were frenemies. Have no idea I get to have you like this whenever I want.”

“I’m gonna-”

“Yeah, you’re gonna.” His fingers press harder, the pressure mounting further. “Gonna come all over my fingers, yeah? Just like you always do?” 

You do. 

Everything comes together in one, cohesive snap. You arch into him, muscles squeezing, teeth clenched, eyes shut. It feels good when you unravel, coming around his fingers as they fuck you through it, determind to extend your high for as long as he can. 

Your breathing is ragged by the time you start to come down, shirt sticking to your skin and neck and face flushed as you try to escape him. He laughs a little, hand slowing until his fingers are still inside you, pressed deep. 

When you open your eyes, the room is spinning. It takes you a second to focus on him. His head is hanging, gaze focused where his fingers are still shoved in your pussy. You can see your arousal shining on his wrist and feel where you drip down the curve of your ass. 

“A lot of cum for someone with no rizz,” he notes, lifting his head to grin at you. 

“Oh shut up.” 

“Oh?”

He retracts his hand and you make a pitiful sound at the loss. He stands up, suddenly leaving you cold and shivering. He brings his fingers to his mouth absently, popping them between rosy lips as he sucks your fluid off easily, making an appreciative sound. 

“I mean if you want me to leave-”

“No, no! No need for that.” He smirks. “You’re already… here and stuff.”

“And stuff.” 

Rolling his eyes, he peels the hoodie up and over his head. You watch, suddenly entranced by the blue tint on his tan skin and the way his muscles flex when he leans to kick off his sweats. Wonwoo is beautiful, his body made up of equal parts streamlined edges and softness. 

Sleeper build, you’d joke the first time you saw him shirtless. On stream, he’s always hidden in baggy shirts and hoodies. You’d never realized he was hiding a body that was at peak athletic form, oversized clothing giving way to rippling arms and a hard chest. 

Naked, he shuffles back to the bed. You let him pull you out of your top, thankful for the warmth of his hands skating over your chilled skin. Your nipples tighten in the cool air, your toes curling at the sensation as you lay back on the bed and look up at him.

Haloed by blue light, Wonwoo looks like some sort of demon or angel. You’re not sure - perhaps he’s equal parts. His hands reach behind your thighs and lift, pressing your legs upward toward your chest. The stretch feels good but it also pries you open, making you writhe when you feel the weight of his cock on your pussy. 

“Hold yourself open for me,” he murmurs gently. Your hands reach behind the back of your knees, pulling. He gives you a lopsided grin, leaning over you to press his weight into the backs of your thighs, helping. “Stay just like that, fuck.” 

You do as he says. You have no other choice, especially when he presses the head of his cock into your entrance, sinking in slowly. You let out a loan moan shaped in his name as he presses in, the fit tight and the pressure delirious. 

Wonwoo bottoms out, holding himself to you, hips to ass for a second. He presses in all of his weight, the mattress creaking under you as he does. He drops his chin to his chest, curses as he takes a few deep breaths, chest heaving. 

You fuck him up too. You know it and you love it, watching as he looks up at you, eyes glazed over with lust, but still full of love. It simmers right at the surface, so obvious that you wonder how anyone could ever not see it when it’s right there.

Slowly, he starts to move. You suck in a breath, head falling to the side. Your fingers ache where you grip your thighs, knuckles shaking. A light sheen of sweat wicks your legs, making your hold slip a little. It’s okay, though. Wonwoo leans into you, keeping you pried open as his hips fuck into you at a steady pace. 

Each thrust feels like it punches the air from your lungs. You draw in deep breaths when you remember, otherwise distracted with the way he crowds you in, crushing you to the mattress. The feeling of him is insane, your thoughts cobwebbing together, the only word you can think of being his name. 

He pants, his arms scooping around your shoulders to pull you into him. A curse leaves your mouth. He’s got you folded in half, no escape from the drill of his hips, the air turning to static between you. Wonwoo is pressed close and you somehow wish you were closer, wanting to drop the grip on your thighs to hold him instead.

Wonwoo reads you like a book. “Go ahead,” he hisses between thrusts. 

“Thank you,” you gasp, dropping your legs in favor of sliding your hands through his sweaty hair, nails scratching his scalp. You feel him shiver and you do it again, pulling his face to you so that you can brush your mouth against his, barely a kiss. “Fuuuuuuck, Wonwoo I-”

“I know.” 

“Close close close.”

He doesn’t pick up his pace but he throws his weight into you more, fucking you deep and hard. You see stars, squeezing your eyes shut as you slide against one another, muscles aching, lungs screaming. You feel like you can’t breathe but you don’t care, skating the line of your second orgasm so close.

Your heart pounds in your ears. Your breath scrapes your throat. There is a moment of absolute nothing but white noise and then you’re crashing, slamming into your orgasm with enough force to knock your head with his when you lurch forward.

It doesn’t even hurt, the electric pleasure outweighing the knock to your head as his fingers dig into your shoulders, cradling you harder as he pistons faster, getting himself to peak. You go limp, held tilted back as he growls your name and loses a rhythm, breath hissing between his teeth. 

For a moment everything is disjointed until he slows to a stop, letting you unfold but pressing his body down onto yours. His weight is comforting, grounding you as your thoughts wander, a little confused and without navigation as your system reboots from the orgasm, tired and staticky. 

Wonwoo kisses your jaw lightly, a gentle contrast to seconds ago when he folded you in half. 

Slowly, he slides to the side, giving you room to breathe. Your body is slick all over - especially between your legs - and the room cools your over-warm skin. You crane your neck to face him, eyes fluttering open as you come back to, a little more lucid. 

His dark eyes find yours and he grins before tossing an arm over your waist just to keep you connected. You place your hand on his arm, returning the gesture, just wanting to touch him. 

“I think I died,” you joke, voice rough. “God.” 

“Yeah? Hey chat,” Wonwoo hums, a grin splitting his face. “How about that for rizz?” 

- PERMANENT TAG LIST:

@jespecially @asyre @eoieopda @todorokiskitten @pyeonghongrie-main @sebbyswifu

IF YOU DO NOT SEE YOUR TAG HERE AND YOU REQUESTED ONE, IT'S BECAUSE YOUR TAG IS NOT WORKING.

[eccentricallygothic]

| Too Sweet |

Description: You and Steve try to put 'it' in for the first time after his serum procedure. 

Pairing: Soft-Dark 40's Post-Serum Steve Rogers | Lover!You. 

Warning(s): Soft-Dark!Steve, 40's misogyny and courting bc let's be so fr, obsession, daddy kink, allusions to spanking, dumbification, power imbalance, corruption kink, fluffy smut, p-in-v penetration that y'all are STRUGGLING with, dash of breeding kink, they love each other, smut with plot.  

Note: @chxrryhansen 's new Too Sweet Steve edit is responsible for this and she doesn't even know it, pfft!

.

"Steve!" Your protest is half giggle and half whine as you wince before landing a punishing smack to your lover's shoulders. "Ouch!" His body is also vibrating due to the humor that the two of you find in this strange situation. 

"Come on, baby" he rasps out against your ear, his elbow that presses into your pillow besides your head causing it to dip towards itself. "I am trying my best here, bear with me a little" try he sure is doing. You can almost feel him fighting against his impulse to just fuck all and push inside your tiny entrance that has never faced a girth this big. 

"I knowww~" you whine as you press your knees against his sides that have become wide and muscular since the procedure. "But it's still ouchie" Steve sighs as he freezes the little bit of pushing that he was doing.

You feel bad, you really do. 

Because it is as hard for you to hold back as it is for him.

Pressed up against your lover that you haven't properly had like this in a week, your bare skins nearly leeched to each other's, one of his rough manly hands fondling your breasts as the one he's holding up his heavy body with strokes your hair to comfort you, the feeling of his stern muscles digging into the tender insides of your thighs and then his cock that you need to save your life at this point so close to your weeping walls yet so far away that you can lose your mind from the frustration. 

But it just hurts so fucking much! 

You had always thought your lover's size to be a decent one because it kept you satisfied and very happy. 

But now…

This. 

You did not want to be an ungrateful brat, as Steve would say, because you weren't a stranger to the valor that he held for his country and you had always done your best to cheer him on so you weren't to be misunderstood.

But good Lord above, they had swapped your cotton candy lover for a rough and tough beast who couldn't bear you being out of his sight for more than a few minutes. 

It seemed that whatever voodoo they worked in that fancy machine had also amplified his obsession with you, like everything else. 

Steve sighs as he kisses your cheek softly. You understand that he's a man and he has his needs that he has been compromising for a week because you recoil at the sight of his cock each time he tries to seduce you. "I've already stretched you out with three fingers, baby. At this point I might as well put my fist in there" you're on thin ice and you know it. 

No man is as considerate as he has been all these days as it is. 

Your cheeks burn and you flush hotly in embarrassment, letting out another whine as a result before landing a flustered punch on his arm. "I- It's not my fault if your fist would still be smaller than your dick!" Though your tone is one that has gotten you bent across his lap more times than you can count, the manner in which the indirect praise boosts his ego saves you this one time.

And his fingers weren't the easiest thing in the world either because they've grown three times their size!

"Aw, is Daddy's cock too big for your little baby pussy, honey?" You cannot help but let out a horrified guffaw as you cover your mouth, eyes wide. 

"Oh, my GOD, Steve!" He is grinning at how appalled you look because of his obscene words. "Stop with that! I told you the other day that it's not right!" You have no idea how, but two months ago your lover had picked up this strange pet name for himself that he liked to use whenever you two were having an intimate moment. 

"Oh, but baby" your back arches in an instant as you grunt and feel your claws fly to his shoulders that they dig into. He has started to push again. But your pussy is nearly as stubborn as he is, it seems. Because neither wants to back down. "Who put it in your pretty little head that you can decide what's right and wrong around here?" 

Your thighs tremble at the authority in his tone and you whine, feeling your ass cheeks clench at the way the girth of his tip feels around your sore band of muscles. Fuck, this is like losing your virginity all over again but only worse. 

You almost feel mad at yourself.

Because you're so wet and prepared.

Ready.

Just why can't it go where you need it most?!

"N- No…" The smell of his shampoo hits your nose when he dips his head into the crook of your neck to make a new love bite, both to try and distract you as well as mark you as his. "D- Didn't mean that, Shtevie, sowwy~" you mumble meekly and he deeply hums against your skin. 

"Good girl" if it weren't for the way in which one of his hands lovingly caress your scalp, you would have teared up due to how small you suddenly feel. "Now shush up for Daddy and let him do this bratty little pussy in" an involuntary gasp leaves you again but you suppress it by kissing his moist temple so he can't hear it and think you are being disrespectful. Your baby pussy has irritated him enough this past whole week already. 

"Owiee…" You grunt again as you feel it breach its way into the initial curve as it has been doing for hours now. "S- So big, Daddy" what? No! You're not like your naughty lover! Y- You're just trying to somehow calm him down so you don't get in trouble! 

Like you did when you initially did not respond to his unrelenting advances in school and he ended up scoring really low in a test because of that so he dragged you out of drama class to bend you over and teach you a thing or two about manners and how to treat those who are nice to you. Then he made you apologize, kiss his cheek and cook him dinner at your house to make it up to him. 

You are glad he did that though, because Steve is your once in a lifetime and there can never be another like him. 

He just knows best. 

But that doesn't mean you are okay with getting punished just because your pussy is too tiny!

"Good babygirl" your lover grunts against your nipple that his mouth is latched onto now, hips doing their best to not damage you but still weasel his cock past the hard round shaped barricade of your pubic bone. "I know it's scary but you can trust Daddy because he knows that if that pretty little pussy can push out his brats one day, it can surely take this cock too." Steve loves how you shudder under him at the thought but still answer him Yes, Daddy. 

Because you are all his to do with whatever he pleases.

That is the reason why he shook hands with HYDRA and wiped out SHIELD the day he was transformed. 

Because HYDRA had promised him a comfortable future with you where he would not have to part with you for too long but still provide you the life that you truly deserved as his sweet little girl who loved and accepted him in a state that everyone had treated as a laughing stock. 

You were worthy of the world.

And he was determined to give it to you. 

.

I didn't mention the hydra plot twist up there because well, surprise! 

[goldenbeastkeeper]

"Oh- titan," he laughed even further at her reply. "No, no, you're right." Why did this keep happening to him? Most of the other times he'd bonded with people had been through life threatening situations. This had just been the first time he'd been on the healing side of it.

As he calmed down, he said, "But no, yeah. It's just been me and my little sibling since we got to the human realm, so it's . . . nice, to have someone else."

"That's good. I haven't had many chances to put what I've learned into practice, so I'm glad it's doing well.

Valor shrugged. "You get used to it. Using your knees to hold it can help distribute the weight, too, if that makes it easier. People do sit side-straddle sometimes, but only after enough they've gained enough experience. It's difficult to steer that way if you're the one in control, and as a passenger you don't have as much of a grip to keep yourself on."

As she attempted to mount, Valor actually got off, lowering the staff further and waiting to correct her form if needed.

“Nothing says bonding like prevented murder!” Came the joking reply, and she shook her head in amusement. “Though I get what you mean. I don't really know any other mages, myself, so… it was nice to have someone to talk to that at least sort of knows what it's like, even if our magics work differently.”

Alex gave a roll of her shoulder to show that she had pretty good range of motion. “Nearly good as new. A little sore if I strain it a little too much, but that's what ice is for. You definitely wouldn't have known I was recently gouged, at least.”

Attention shifting to Valor's demonstration, she furrowed her brow slightly. “Straddle, not side saddle. Got it. Though… isn't that kind of… uncomfortable?” She couldn't help but ask, even as she moved to first stand behind where Valor was, then attempting to actually mount the staff.

Easier said than done when you're as short as she was, even with Valor having lowered himself a little.

[writer-freak]

Asking you out | Valo men x Gn reader

Characters: Gekko, Chamber, Sova, Yoru, Phoenix, Cypher, Omen, Brimstone, Kay/o and Habor

Warning: Gn reader, fluff, maybe ooc, english isn't my first language

A/n: I decided to go back to my roots and write some headcanons for Valorant. Haven't written for them in some time and I'm not up to date with the current lore so sorry for inaccuracies

Thank you for reading and Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more <3

Gekko

Gekko is usually chill, so he’d be more low-key when asking you out.

One day you’re hanging out, Wingman chilling on your lap, and he just casually drops it

“Yo, maybe we should, like, go out on an official date?”

He’s trying to seem nonchalant, but the way he scratches the back of his head gives his nervousness away

When you agree, he lights up, his eyes wide with excitement and a big smile on his face

“Sick! Let’s grab something to eat!”

He’d definitely text his mom right after and would update her on how everything went

Chamber

Chamber has always been smooth, always flirting like it’s second nature

But when he asks you out, it’s a bit different

You’re used to his flirty remarks, but this time, after a successful mission, he walks up and asks

“If we succeed today, how about we celebrate together? Maybe dinner, just the two of us?”

His usual cockiness is a bit toned down, and there’s a vulnerability showing in his voice making it obvious he actually cares about your answer.

When you say yes, he recovers quickly with a grin, “I’ll consider that a victory, then.”

Sova

Sova is more straightforward and doesn’t really beat around the bush

After a long mission, he’d find you alone, pulling you aside. “You know I value you more than just a teammate, right?”

He’s nervous, but he says it calmly, watching for your reaction

If you tease him about being a softy, he’d chuckle, cheeks flushing slightly, before responding

“Perhaps I am soft… but only for you.” He’ll suggest something outdoorsy as a first date, like a quiet night under the stars, just something close to nature

Yoru

Yoru’s got a reputation for being cocky, and he’d play into that even while asking you out

“I heard you’ve been into me for a while now?” he’d say, smirking, trying to act cool

He’s testing the waters, but there’s a slight hesitation as if he’s waiting to see if you’ll reject him or call out his bluff

When you agree, he’ll act like it was no big deal, “Yeah, thought so,”

But then, his smirk softens slightly, and he looks at you more seriously. “So, how about we make it official? I’m asking you out—me and you, a proper date.”

If you agree, he’ll play it off cool, but you’d still catch the pink on his cheeks before he quickly changes the subject

Phoenix

Phoenix doesn’t like wasting time, so he’d ask you out while you’re the two of you were joking around together.

“Hey, let’s stop messing around and go out for real,” he’d say, flashing that bright grin.

“I’m serious though. Gonna be the best date of your life, I promise.”

His usual confidence is there, but you can tell he’s nervous from the way he messes with his jacket collar

When you say yes, he practically lights up—“Aight, bet! You won’t regret it.”

Cypher

Cypher’s approach is more subtle

He waits for a moment when it’s just the two of you, maybe working on something together

He’ll lean in slightly and say in a low voice, “I’ve come to enjoy our time together... Perhaps you’d also like something more?”

His tone is cautious watching for your reaction, but you can sense the warmth behind his words

When you agree, he smiles behind his mask

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” he’d say, his voice softer. “How about dinner—just us?”

Omen

Omen is less direct when it comes to asking you out

One evening, after sitting together in silence, he'd hand you something small that he knitted himself

“This is for you.” he’d say in his usual low voice

If you ask him why he was gifting you this, he’d simply reply, “I want to be together with you.”

When you agree, there’s no visible smile, but you’ll feel the shift in his energy, warmth that shows that he is happy you accepted

Brimstone

Brimstone is all about professionalism, so he’d be more cautious about showing public affection.

If you’re already close, he might approach you after a mission, saying, “I’ve been thinking… maybe we should spend more time together outside of work.”

He’s straightforward, and his voice is calm, ready to accept your rejection

If you agree, he will give you a small smile.

“Glad to hear it. Let’s keep it between us for now, though.” He’s the type to plan something simple but meaningful—dinner at his place, maybe

KAY/O

KAY/O is logical, and while he’s sentient, human emotions can be tricky for him

He’d approach you one day, saying, “I have observed our interactions. I believe it would be beneficial to further explore this connection.”

It’s a bit robotic, but you can tell he’s trying

If you agree, he’d probably show a small heart symbol on his display, acknowledging the sentiment behind it

“Thank you. I will strive to meet your expectations,” he’d add, with a surprising amount of sincerity

Harbor

Harbor’s positive energy is contagious, and he’d be warm and positive when asking you out.

“You know, we always have a good time together,” he’d say with that bright smile of his.

“How about we make it official? Let me take you out properly.”

He’s all about showing affection, and if you agree, he’ll be beaming.

“You won’t regret it. I’ve got some amazing plans for us.”

He would make sure your first date is filled with fun and laughter

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

[lovelyhan]

— caught in the middle ⟢

mingyu knows. he’s perfectly aware that his best friend’s girlfriend is the last person he should end up wanting. but who is he to refuse when wonwoo invites him to join something he never thought he could ever be part of?

★ FEATURING; wonwoo x reader x mingyu

★ WORD COUNT; 15.8k words

★ TAGS; established relationship, streamer au, one-sided pining (or is it!!!), fluff, mild angst, smut (MINORS DNI)

★ WARNINGS; mentions of twitter porn, sex tapes, mentions of infidelity (there's none of that here though), lots of guilt-ridden thoughts on gyu's end

★ NOTES; i'm literally several days late but happiest birthday to the man i enjoy writing for wayyyy too much, wonwoo <3 it's been four months since i last revisited the streamer series, and i'm glad to finally make good on that teaser i left in the second part :]

★ BEFORE YOU READ; i highly recommend reading the first two stories in the series first bc as much as i wanted to let readers consume this as a standalone, context is still really important for the story i want to tell!

this is part of the game over series!

★ SMUT TAGS; oral (m&f receiving), vaginal fingering, daddy kink, pet names (puppy for gyu), threesome, spitroasting, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, aftercare

★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @ldkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti--red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzz - @lissiesykes - @jeonride - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt

★ MINGYU & WONWOO TAGLIST; @yoonzinoooo - @emmmui - @swinterr - @wolfhardbby - @scandal-in-bohemia

★ FIC/SERIES TAGLIST; @ressonancee - @smooore - @wave2love - @jjongjjongiesworld - @mimi14berrybear - @hanniebanggi - @havetaeminforbreakfast - @slut4donghyuck - @delulu4-life - @aurumness - @mingyucookies - @noonareads - @hafuunkjw - @strxbrymilkkuu

part one - part two - part three - part four

This is, by far, the worst day of Mingyu’s life. 

Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating, but he likes to think that he’s a man of routine. If he doesn’t get to do his morning rituals right before his streams, it feels like the world has been tilted a few degrees off its proper axis. 

And that’s exactly what’s happening now, when Mingyu realizes that his favorite Twitter porn account is nowhere to be found. 

How the hell is he supposed to get his daily dose of relief now?

“Mingyu, you’re dragging your ass a lot today,” Seungcheol’s voice sounds pissed through his headphones and Mingyu can’t exactly fault him for it. Not when he ended up making their team lose their third Valorant match in a row. “The hell’s up with you? I thought you already practiced using Gekko with Vernon the other day.”

“We did and he was actually pretty good,” the younger man comments. “Dunno what suddenly got into him today though.”

“Cheol-hyung, you shouldn’t berate Mingyu when you royally sucked at using Neon during the time she was first released,” Wonwoo quips.

Seungcheol immediately makes a disgruntled noise at that. “I did not royally suck! She just doesn’t fit my playstyle. And I get that you guys are glued to the hip at this point, but you of all people should know when to call out your teammates especially if they’re being a bunch of noobs, Wonwoo.”

“Now, now, didn’t we already talk about this? No fighting when we’re only doing a bunch of scrimmages between friends.” 

A less abrasive voice flits into the call and Mingyu finds himself relaxing into his seat as he stares at the glowing red DEFEAT screen on his monitor. Ever since you and Wonwoo finally dropped the act of hating each other and started dating, you’ve constantly mediated any petty arguments that sparked within their group. Mingyu is all sorts of grateful, but also just a tad bit embarrassed whenever he’s part of the argument in question.

“Yeah, what she said,” Wonwoo agrees with a huff. 

“Whatever, man. Koyahngi has watered down your temper so much, it makes me look like the most easily tilted player on the team,” Seungcheol grumbles before adding, “Ugh. Couples.”

Vernon laughs softly. “Crazy how you’re the one who always insisted for Wonwoo-hyung to be kinder, but now that he is, you suddenly want him to go back to his trash-talking ways.”

“Now why’s everyone dogpiling me now!” the older man whines.

About half an hour and another lost match later, everyone decides to call it a day. Seungcheol and Vernon are going to hold a joint stream together and Mingyu needs to get ready for another modeling gig he managed to land a couple of days ago. He’s not sure what you and Wonwoo have in store for the day, but his best friend and roommate mentioned that you were going to drop by their apartment sometime today. 

But when Mingyu finally deigned to grab a towel and head to the bathroom, he instead makes a detour to the couch with a desolate sigh. He unlocks his phone and opens the Twitter app like it was second nature, tapping on the button that pulls up his most recent searches.  

goodcat_badcat

He absentmindedly types the username to an account that’s been his constant companion whenever he needed to let off some steam. Though he hasn’t checked her profile in a while, Mingyu was under the impression that goodcat_badcat would still be there to give him a hand especially when his schedule has been driving him insane these days. 

But when the app redirects him to the main profile, the same words that greeted him when he woke up with his painfully hard morning wood stare back at him. Something went wrong. Try again.

She deactivated. His favorite Twitter porn girl is fucking gone and now he’s got nothing but despair and the bluest balls in the entire city. 

“Hey.”

Mingyu jolts at the sound of Wonwoo’s voice, immediately locking his phone before tossing it on the other side of the couch as if it burned him. He’s quick to whirl around to greet him with a too-wide smile.

“Hyung, what’s up?” Mingyu asks, thanking the heavens that his voice didn’t crack.

His best friend looks at him weirdly. “Uh, do you have any plans today? We’re going out to go bowling today and she told me to ask if you wanted to come along.”

Bowling. Wonwoo sucks at bowling, but you managed to rope him into going with you anyways. 

“I’d love to, but I’ve got a shoot in…” Mingyu’s voice falters before reaching for the phone he just tossed away—heart dropping to his stomach when he looks at the time. “Shit. Forty minutes.”

He doesn’t wait for Wonwoo’s response before bounding towards the bathroom with a towel in hand.

The part-time model hasn’t gotten ready faster in his entire life. Though his manager told him that the brand he’s shooting for this time isn’t strict with time, Mingyu doesn’t want to make it a habit to show up late for his commitments. 

Streamers already have a bad enough image to those who aren’t part of the industry, and he wants to make it a point that not every single one of them is a slob who doesn’t shower and makes tardiness a way of life.

As he pulls on a snapback over his still-damp hair—opting to let the stylists on the set handle it for him instead—he faintly hears your voice outside of his bedroom door. 

“Aww, he isn’t coming?”

“Yeah. Let’s just invite him next time,” Wonwoo’s muffled response manages to reach his ears as well.

With one last glance in the mirror, Mingyu hoists his bag across his shoulder before opening the door to his room. He spots you seated on the armrest of their couch, kicking your legs somewhat adorably before you meet his gaze with surprise.

For someone who’s supposed to be bowling today, you don’t really look the part. Of course, your signature Koyahngi cat ear headband is sitting on top of your head, as in-theme as always. You also paired up your short, pleated skirt with lace-trimmed thigh highs, and chunky white boots. Not to mention the sheer, low cut top that gives him an ample view of your cleavage… 

“Gyu, do you have a photoshoot today or something?” Your question promptly snaps him out of his somewhat rude staring. “Here I thought we could team up and destroy Wonwoo together in the bowling alley.”

“As if I’d allow that,” his best friend scoffs. “Mingyu’s teaming up with me, princess. Then you’ll be crying like a loser while we get ourselves a victory treat from the snackbar.”

“We are not going to do that, and yeah, I have a photoshoot…that I’m already late for actually,” Mingyu replies with a bubble of laughter. “That’s okay. You and Wonwoo-hyung have fun. Pro-tip, he actually sucks at bowling, so you’ll score much better than he will.” 

You giggle before getting back on your feet, making your way over to Mingyu faster than he can prepare himself for. He hasn’t quite noticed it as vividly as he does now, but you’re so much smaller than him—even with the added inches of your boots. 

It doesn’t help that the way you’re cutely looking up at Mingyu with those pretty doe eyes as you examine his outfit is making sweat bead across his temples. Great.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re heading to a shoot though,” you laugh. “You’re going on a date, aren’t you? Who’s the lucky guy or gal? Why’d you dress up like Tadashi Hamada just to impress them?”

Wonwoo snorts. “You mean the guy who died in Big Hero 6?”

“Well, yeah, but he was also my childhood crush, so shut up, Wonwoo.”

Your childhood crush. Mingyu looks like your childhood crush. 

As Mingyu watches you bicker with his roommate—your boyfriend and his best friend—he realizes something that could change the trajectory of this friendship altogether.

He might have a crush on someone he isn’t supposed to want.

Like any other sane person out there, Mingyu does his best to brush it off.

It shouldn’t be a big deal. He’s been fleetingly attracted to people who are taken before and it wouldn’t last for more than a few days before he gets over it. 

Mingyu simply chalks this up to hormones. After all, it was one thing to see your promiscuous outfits on streams, but it’s another to constantly be around you in those…rather unique get-ups. As degenerate as it sounds, he is just a man. Though he definitely won’t make a move on his best friend’s girl just because you like to show up to their apartment in short skirts and tight crop tops, he can’t help the physical reaction your presence evokes from him.

Which is his exact dilemma right now.

“Nonu, you got a silencer on you?” you mutter with your feet propped up on the coffee table—eyes glued to your phone while the three of you played a new mobile-based battle royale game in the living room. “I found a shotgun. Can you drop it for—Fuck!”

Wonwoo hums beside you, glancing at your screen for only a moment before focusing on his own character. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone fucking killed me with a Type 25!” 

Your boyfriend simpers. “That’s what you get for talking to me and not focusing on the game, princess.”

“I just remembered how much I hate you.” 

With sulkiness in your strides, you get up from the couch before plopping yourself on the armrest of the lazyboy Mingyu’s currently occupying. He startles at your sudden switch in seats—eyes darting between you and his phone before he tells himself to focus or he’ll get wiped off the map in a blink of an eye too.

“Gyu, can you do me a favor and just let Wonwoo die if he needs help?” you coo, wrapping your arms around his bare bicep. “Teach the fucker the importance of teamwork?”

Wonwoo laughs crudely from his spot on the couch. “What happened to ‘no fighting during scrims between friends’ huh?”

“That rule doesn’t apply when I’m the one being antagonized.”

Mingyu is a little busy evading a sniper that’s trying to take him out, but he does hear Wonwoo mutter, fucking brat, under his breath. He doesn’t pay it any mind—quite used to this back-and-forth dynamic between the both of you, even before you made it official. 

The rest of the round goes on for another ten or-so minutes. As if the gods answered your call, Wonwoo gets done in by a grenade, leaving Mingyu the only surviving member of your three-man team. 

“Uhhh, sniper—two o’clock,” you point out, leaning closer to his screen all while pressing your tits against his arm. Mingyu lets himself think it’s not intentional. “That’s the asshole who killed me! You’ll avenge me, won’t you Gyugyu?”

God. He hasn’t even gotten used to you calling him Gyu and now you’ve suddenly got another adorable nickname up your sleeve? 

But back to the sniper. He’s a little too far away for Mingyu to make quick work of and the only weapons he’s got equipped are close range. From what he can see on the kill counter, only three players remain and Mingyu just has to pray that the sniper and whoever else is left aren’t teammates and—

The flash animation of a sniper rifle going off illuminates part of his screen. The kill counter ticks up to 48 out of 50 players dead. 

Mingyu doesn’t waste any more time.

You’re practically shouting into his ear as he rushes to ambush the sniper on the second floor, clutching his arm tightly as you dish out helpful words of advice. (There’s a bomb in that stairwell. Chase him on the other side!) 

The game ends in a sound victory for your team when Mingyu manages to kill off the sniper with close range combat. Despite the added flourish to your reigning rank and win rates, you still tease him about how he fumbled with his weapon stash during those last few seconds—bringing out a molotov instead of a pistol like he initially intended. The six foot gamer argues that it was just the nerves and the fact that you were pressing your perky breasts into the curve of his muscles, but you don’t really have to know that last bit.

Mingyu gets so into it that he fails to notice the way his best friend’s eyes linger on him and his girlfriend for a beat longer than usual, nor is he privy to the way Wonwoo’s lips twist into a sordid smirk.

After borrowing some of Wonwoo’s clothes, you end up staying over for dinner—even going out of your way to help Mingyu in the kitchen as he whips up some kimbap for everyone in the house. Wonwoo at least has the decency to set the table while you two are busy doing the brunt of the work in preparing food and once everything is in place, you and Mingyu share a quick high five. 

“We actually make a good team, huh?” you snicker.

Mingyu feels his neck prickle with heat. “Guess you can say that.”

Once your stomachs are full and the dishes are washed and put away, Wonwoo puts on a thriller on the TV. You’re still pouting because of his shitty behavior during the game, but you ultimately choose to snuggle up next to your boyfriend despite.

It’s in rare moments like this where Mingyu truly gets to observe you and Wonwoo past the dynamic you both like to parade around other people. Your fiery personalities have been tempered into something calmer. Something he’d dare to call safe. 

No snide comments, no senseless bickering—only tangled limbs under a weighted blanket, snuggling yourself deeper into your boyfriend’s chest, and looking up at him with sleepy but loving eyes. 

So here’s Mingyu’s predicament: you’re ridiculously attractive but also ridiculously in love with his best friend. 

“Mingyu.”

He blinks up in surprise when he notices Wonwoo standing in front of Mingyu’s lazyboy, carrying you in his arms as you doze softly into his chest. The sight makes his heart twist with a kind of fondness that he was never meant to feel for you.

“Hm?” Mingyu tries to sound as casual as he can manage—forcing his eyes on the TV and away from your vulnerable form. “Guess she’s sleeping over, huh?”

His best friend hums. “I was supposed to drive her home before meeting Soonyoung and the others to grab drinks. But she hates it when I wake her up after she falls asleep like this.”

Mingyu nods. “Okay.”

“And she also hates waking up in the middle of the night all alone,” Wonwoo adds. “Which is where you come in.”

There’s a long pause in their conversation that makes Mingyu hyper aware of the steady rise and fall of your chest as you sleep in Wonwoo’s arms. You really are out cold—too deep into slumber to have any awareness of what the two men are even discussing.

“What?” Mingyu whispers, unable to pay attention to the main character walking into her doom on the television screen. “What do you mean that’s where I come into the picture? Don’t tell me you’re still going out for drinks when your sulky girlfriend’s asleep in our house.”

“It’s only for an hour or two,” Wonwoo explains before padding over to Mingyu’s—yes, Mingyu’s bedroom—before gently laying you down on the bed and pulling his blanket across your dozing form. “We’re actually meeting with our manager so I can’t talk myself out of the schedule even if I really fucking want to.”

The disbelief is still evident on Mingyu’s face. “So you’re putting me in charge of babysitting her until you come back?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Gyu. You’re just gonna sleep next to her, not clean up after her shit.”

Somehow, the fact that Wonwoo’s practically giving Mingyu permission to do that sounds more daunting than the latter. He’s much too busy gawking at the older man to give him a proper response right away.

Is this really the same guy who personally tells the perverts in your stream’s chat to fuck off when they’re being out of line? The guy who always has an arm wrapped possessively around your waist whenever you’re all out with your friends?

“Do I have a choice?” Mingyu sighs.

“If you want to deal with her all pissed off after waking up alone, then be my guest.”

“This wouldn’t be even an issue if you just did a rain check!” 

“You know I’d do anything to keep her happy if I could, right?”

The pleading tone of Wonwoo’s voice takes Mingyu aback for half a moment before he gets his bearings straight. It shouldn’t be a surprise to him, how your boyfriend treats you like a goddamn princess. No matter how much you rile each other up where everyone can see, at the end of the day, Wonwoo is still the type of lover who puts great value in the smallest things. 

The guy takes your fucking napping habits into consideration when making decisions between his personal life and his career. Even going out of his way to inconvenience his own best friend just so you wouldn’t wake up all alone. 

If that isn’t love, Mingyu doesn’t know what is.

“Fine,” Mingyu relents. “Just make sure you’ll be back in two hours or else I’ll call your manager and tell him the apartment caught fire.”

Wonwoo flicks him painfully on the forehead as he walks back to the living room, making Mingyu roll back onto the cushions with a groan. “Don’t crack jokes like that when my girlfriend’s over at our place.”

“Wow.” Mingyu scowls. “So it’s okay for the apartment to go up in flames if I’m alone?”

His best friend doesn’t even hesitate. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Thirty minutes later, Wonwoo has already left for his evening plans and Mingyu is left to clean the leftover snacks off the coffee table as the end credits roll on the TV. The door to his bedroom has been left ajar so he can at least keep an eye on you in his peripheral while he tidies up. 

He’s supposed to do a chill, late night stream, but seeing as his room has another occupant this evening, he might have to go on Twitter to let his subscribers know about the change in schedules. But that would leave Mingyu with nothing else to do aside from going to bed early. 

Meaning, he’d have to lie next to you. On his bed.

Mingyu immediately shoots the idea down, plopping himself back on the sofa all while trying not to glance in the general direction of his room.

This is fine. This is okay. There’s nothing remotely wrong about his best friend’s girlfriend sleeping on his bed even if Wonwoo could’ve just dumped you in his own room instead. He could just play a few games on his PS5 until you woke up on your own or until Wonwoo comes back from his night out. Whichever happens first.

So that’s exactly what Mingyu does. 

About an hour of playing through where he left off in his last Elden Ring save file, he’s so engrossed in the cutscene that he doesn’t notice you rising from the comfort of his bed—rubbing your eyes as you look around the room you’re in with mild confusion. 

Just when the next boss fight begins, Mingyu is promptly spooked when the cushions dip beneath the weight of another person, letting out an undignified yelp as his eyes dart to the unknown figure wrapping their arms around his bicep—

Then he realizes it’s you.

“Eepy…” you mumble, eyes still drooping as you nuzzle his arm.

Mingyu scowls for a moment. Did you just say eepy? 

Fuck, that’s so cute, he muses to himself before forcing his gaze back on the TV before Godrick the Grafted could cleave Mingyu’s character in half with a giant axe. 

The daunting in-game OST coupled with the jarring sound-effects of weapons clashing together probably isn’t the best thing to wake up to, but with how you quietly bury yourself in the warmth of his body, Mingyu figures that you probably don’t mind. 

He isn’t sure if you’ve decided to continue your nap or watch whatever he’s doing on the screen, given that he’s dedicated much of his attention span in trying not to get killed. But despite having been in the same position as other girls he’s dated before—them clinging to his arm as he plays through some gory open-world RPG—it’s the first time Mingyu has ever felt nervous. 

Maybe it’s because you’re a streamer yourself that he doesn’t have it in him to flex his superior gamer prowess like he usually does. But with that thought in mind, shouldn’t he be more inclined to show off? To brag about how he can dodge and parry the enemy’s coordinated attacks effortlessly when Wonwoo can’t even switch his healing items without fumbling with the controls? 

Then he remembers that tiny, minuscule crush he has. And the fact that the person he has that tiny, minuscule crush on is snuggling against him like a cat. 

Mingyu barely gets to the second phase of the boss fight without his head imploding from vertigo.

“That looks really…gross,” you murmur just when the next cutscene starts and Godrick the Grafted sticks his amputated arm into the corpse of a nearby dragon. So you are watching him play. “Is he trying to assimilate with it or something?” 

Mingyu offers up a soft hum. “He grafts his own body parts from other beings to get stronger, so…yeah.”

“Hm. So he’s using a dragon’s head to replace his missing arm?”

“You’re pretty clever for someone who just woke up.”

You huff. “For your information, I don’t just play cutesy games all the time. Who do you think finished Wonwoo’s save file for Dark Souls 3? 

Mingyu simpers as he jumps out of the way of Godrick’s flamethrower. “You? Playing Dark Souls, of all things? You don’t have to lie to impress me, you know.”

“Fuck you.”

Before he can let out a teasing laugh, you promptly yank the controller out of Mingyu’s hands—making your boyfriend’s best friend scowl as you take over the boss fight he can very much overcome on his own.

You don’t say a single word as you finish off what’s left of Godrick’s HP bar with more finesse than he’d expect for someone he thought only fucked around on Stardew Valley and Genshin Impact. Your eyes are completely glued on the TV, not even second-guessing the buttons you’re mashing. Mingyu can only watch in quiet awe when the boss belts out his death voicelines, fading into ashes as the ending cutscene comes to a close.

Then, you glance over at Mingyu with a smug look and if he thought he couldn’t be any more infatuated by you, he’s dead wrong.

“Maybe I should start playing games like this on my streams so people like you would start taking me seriously,” you flare before tossing the controller back onto his lap. “But then again I shouldn’t really give a shit about what others think about me.”

There’s a sharpness in your words that makes Mingyu think that it wasn’t just a baseless retort to his earlier jab. That makes him frown.

“What do you mean?” he wonders.

He half-expects you to trade that frown on your face with a sleazy grin in a gotcha moment he’s been unknowingly anticipating. That you’d wave away the seriousness of it all with your cheeky laughter before you’re back to watching him play again. 

But it doesn’t come.

You sink further into the couch with a sigh, crossing your arms together as you prop your legs on the coffee table. The fact that you’re wearing nothing but Wonwoo’s shirt makes Mingyu instinctively lead his eyes away from the way the hem rides up your thighs. 

“Nothing. Just go back to playing your stupid game.”

Unfortunately for you, Mingyu is having none of it. “Hey, I get that I said something that pissed you off and I’m sorry. But…do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” 

“Well…whatever’s bothering you.” 

You shake your head. “It’s nothing. I swear. I’m just feeling a little cranky.”

Oh. Right. Wonwoo mentioned how you hated waking up alone after naps. Well, technically, you weren’t alone. His bedroom door was still wide open when he started playing in the living room, but then again he doesn’t know you well enough to be able to tell what counts as waking up alone and what doesn’t.

“Should I call Wonwoo-hyung?” 

“And have him tease me to the ends of the earth when I’m already in a bad mood?” you scoff. “Pass.”

Mingyu considers his options for a moment. You’ve always been quite bubbly and energetic when you’re over at their apartment. This is probably the first time he’s seen you act so grumpy and it’s been a while since he’s dealt with moody girlfriends so he isn’t sure what to make of the situation. 

But then a lone thought wanders inside his head.

“Do you…want to go back to bed?”

He wonders if it’s a stupid question. You’re very much awake now that he accidentally tripped on the proverbial land mine that is your emotional disposition. Mingyu is already expecting you to decline, but the hard lines on your faces suddenly soften. 

Then, with a quiet and considerably less disgruntled voice:

“I’d like that. Yeah.”

Maybe he should’ve worded his offer better. 

By ‘go back to bed’, Mingyu actually meant that he’d help you into Wonwoo’s room—into Wonwoo’s bed—because one: he’s your boyfriend; and two: given that you’re both planning to go to sleep for real, you wouldn’t have to wake up alone anymore since Wonwoo would already be home before morning. 

So why the fuck is he staring at the wall right next to his bed with your arm draped around his body as you dozed off behind him? Never mind that you were spooning a six-foot man with considerable body mass. You’re Wonwoo’s girlfriend. You’re not supposed to be sleeping in the same bed as your boyfriend’s best friend.

But despite his warring thoughts, Mingyu doesn’t move an inch. He doesn’t take any action to convince you to just sleep in Wonwoo’s room instead because that’s what’s right and proper, all things considered.

No, he just lets your hands dip beneath his shirt in your slumber, tracing the lines of his toned stomach every now and again. Mingyu tells himself it must be a habit you picked up from all the times you’ve slept right next to Wonwoo and that your body is just seeking that same kind of comfort in his absence.

You don’t have to know about how he feels himself grow hard when your pert nipples brush against his back every time you shift behind him.

And you definitely don’t have to know that he eventually peeled himself away from your heated embrace to jack himself off in the bathroom before retiring to the couch for the rest of the night.

It’s a secret that he simply has to take to his grave.

“Mingoo-yah, you’re spacing out again.”

Mingyu only feels half as bad as he should be for not listening to Jeonghan when the older man was in the middle of telling him about a brand collaboration offer he’s contemplating on accepting. Being the only two out of their friend group of thirteen to actively take up modeling gigs on the side, he’s close enough with Jeonghan to know he isn’t the kind of person who easily takes offense in things like that.

But one thing Mingyu does know about Jeonghan is that the older’s intuition is much too sharp for anyone’s liking.

“You’ve been inviting me out a lot lately,” Jeonghan remarks as he points the mouth of his beer bottle at Mingyu. “Are you trying to avoid something back at home? Is Wonwoo being an asshole to you?”

The lilt in his words clues Mingyu in on the fact that Jeonghan knows damn well that’s far from the reason that he’s been out of the apartment more frequently these days. He wonders if there’s any use to lying to someone who can see through any sort of farce before letting out a withering sigh.

“Hyung,” he starts, taking a sip out of his own beer as he chooses his words carefully. “Have you…ever wanted something you can’t have?”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Kim Mingyu? Not getting something he wants? My, all those ambassador offers and that long line of men and women alike doing everything they can for a chance to even speak with you would beg to differ.”

Yeah, but those people aren’t my best friend’s girlfriend, Mingyu wants to say but doesn’t, for obvious reasons. 

“You’re avoiding the question,” he whines instead.

Jeonghan lets out a soft chuckle before popping one of the bar’s complimentary corn chips into his mouth. “Well, to simply answer that: no. I’ve never wanted anything I can’t have because I always get what I want. All I need is to set my mind on having it and I’ll figure out the rest along the way.” 

“But what if… What if I ended up hurting someone if I pursued it?” Mingyu asks, trying his best to make the topic as ambiguous as possible. “That’s the last thing I want to do so the only way I can really deal with it is to just stop wanting it, you know?”

For a moment, Jeonghan doesn’t respond—lazy eyes trained on the younger man as he assesses what he’s been told. His gaze makes Mingyu a little nervous. Has he already ratted himself out? Has Jeonghan already put the pieces together in his head?

“From the way you’re going about all this, getting over it seems like a far cry into the future. And I’m well aware that you’re not a patient man, Mingyu,” he chortles with a shake of his head. “You’re understanding—considerate, even. But if I know you as well as I think I do, then there’s only so much endurance you can exercise when it comes to something you want that badly.

“If you want my advice, then I’ll go ahead and tell you to just negotiate with the person you’re supposedly going to hurt when you finally go after whatever this thing of yours is. If he declines, then you can walk away knowing you tried. If he agrees on some sort of…compromise, then wouldn’t that make you less miserable?”

God. Fuck. Talking to Jeonghan about this was probably the worst decision he’s made in his life. Mingyu wonders if he’d still be saying the same things if he knew exactly what—more precisely, who—they were even talking about. 

You’re at their apartment right now, probably snuggled up on the couch again—watching movies while engaging your boyfriend in occasional banter like you usually do. It’s a routine that the two of you have lulled yourselves into ever since you started dating and Mingyu would be a fucking dick for wanting to ruin that all because he can’t deal with the fact that he’s helplessly attracted to you. 

He can’t even sleep in his own goddamn bed without his brain going back to the night you lied so peacefully right next to him. Whenever his thoughts start to swim into dangerous territory, Mingyu tries so hard to suppress them by just going to sleep—only to end up fucking his painfully hard cock into his fist before coming all over the sheets with the taste of your name still sizzling on his tongue.

Later that night, a woman in a pretty black dress goes up to him and Jeonghan with a flirtatious strut that Mingyu would’ve latched onto if he was the same man he was a few months prior. She offers to buy them a few cocktails as a treat before leading Mingyu to the dark hallway that led to the dingy bathrooms with an expectant look in her sharply winged eyes. 

It doesn’t really take much to get him hard—he’s just a man after all. So when the woman whose name he knows she told him but promptly forgot gets on her knees on the dirty tiled floor, Mingyu thinks it’s perfectly normal for him to let her take his heavy length down her throat for some much needed relief.

What’s not normal is the way he pictures you in her place instead. That it was you deepthroating him like you were born without a gag reflex. You choking so adorably around his length as tears start to make your makeup run in gray streaks across your cheeks. You swallowing every last drop he spills into your awaiting mouth as he catches his breath against the bathroom door.

The woman was probably expecting some reciprocation on Mingyu’s end and while he’s normally a gentleman about these kinds of things, he promptly zips himself back up before leaving her alone in that dirty bathroom without another word.

To his surprise, Jeonghan is still there at their table, tapping away on his phone with a look of mild interest lining his gaze. Mingyu asks him what’s up.

“Wonwoo’s celebrating his birthday this year with everyone,” he chimes. “You would know when Soonyoung’s blowing up gen chat, but you were kind of busy getting your dick wet.”

Now that genuinely takes him by surprise. 

While his best friend isn’t some brooding edgelord that thinks celebrating birthdays is overrated, Wonwoo has always preferred commemorating it in intimate spaces. He usually just orders some fancier take out than their usual Chinese fast food and Mingyu buys him a silly cat-themed cake for him to blow out the candles on. 

But as Mingyu brings himself up to speed about what went down in their server over the last thirty minutes, he can now confirm that Jeonghan wasn’t bluffing at all.

Wonwoo: Dinner at Jungsik Dang at 7 PM on the 17th. The actual thing starts at 8 but you assholes have a thing for being late all the time.

Soonyoung: nice. i’ll leave my house at 10 

Chan: Loser. I’ll leave at midnight

Seungkwan: Maybe you shouldn’t have announced the real time the program starts, hyung.

“You’ll be there, won’t you?”

Jeonghan’s question makes Mingyu look up from the Discord conversation on his phone and into the older man’s eyes. There’s a look he can quite pin down on his face and Mingyu isn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“Of course,” he says, throat tightening for reasons even he can’t name. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Mingyu doesn’t really count the time left before Wonwoo’s birthday—much too preoccupied with his own schedules to notice the days passing by. But as busy as he is, at least he doesn’t have to keep inviting Jeonghan out for an excuse to go outside the apartment whenever you’re paying a visit. 

If Wonwoo has noticed Mingyu’s evasive behavior, he never really shows it. The older man still greets Mingyu everyday with a curt nod, retreating to his own bedroom before doing his morning streams. Wonwoo seems none the wiser to his best friend’s predicament and Mingyu prefers it that way.

But while it’s much easier to avoid Wonwoo’s scrutiny, you’re an entirely different case.

Mingyu comes home late one evening after a niche fashion event that one of his contacts personally invited him to attend. He doesn’t really get why he even reached out to him, given the fact that Mingyu’s modeling scene is a far cry from whatever haute couture bullshit they’ve got going on there. 

The only reason he deigned to show up is because of the stories about the organizer’s after parties that his said contact mentioned in passing. Well, that and the invitation was extended to him on a night you were staying over at their place. 

Mingyu is more than a little drunk when he stumbles inside the apartment—kicking his boots off with a huff as his inebriated eyes parse through the dim lights. He sighs, an airy smile gracing his lips as he recalls this evening’s events. 

Sure, he enjoys those quiet drinking sessions he shared with Jeonghan just fine, but Mingyu isn’t past admitting that he misses partying like he did when he was still in college. In fact, he actually had the chance to go home with one of the pretty models that took the runway. 

She’d been making moony eyes at him all evening and Mingyu would’ve let her whisk him off to whatever five-star accommodation she’s staying in if only he hadn’t promised to guest on Soonyoung’s charity stream the next morning. 

So here he is, leaning against the kitchen counter as he drunkenly smiles at the last text his would-be conquest—her name’s Suji—sent five minutes ago. She told him to don’t forget to wash up before you sleep and have fun at your stream tomorrow <3

Suji is adorable. Fun to be with even if Mingyu only spent a total of two hours mingling with her in the high-end afterparty venue. Never did he imagine that a literal supermodel would even be remotely interested in what he does for a living, but the world is full of surprises like that.

In fact, it’s so full of surprises that Mingyu ends up dropping the glass of water in his hand when he sees you emerge from Wonwoo’s bedroom. 

“Jeez, Gyu,” you mumble as you stare at the mess he made—hundreds of shards glimmering against the wet floor. “I know you’re clumsy but you never really break things by accident.”

Mingyu swallows thickly, wanting to say that you were the one who surprised him out of nowhere, but his eyes completely zero in on the conspicuous bruises that litter your throat and collarbones like a disconnected necklace. 

All it takes is one brief glance at his best friend’s bedroom—to which you left the door completely open—for Mingyu to confirm the suspicions wriggling in the back of his head. 

Wonwoo is lying on his stomach, bare back sporting scratch marks that Mingyu has teased him about before while his lower half is completely hidden beneath your favorite weighted blanket. He’s completely still as he sleeps, chest rising and falling with steady breathing.

When Mingyu dares to look at you again, he suddenly forgets about what happened at the afterparty; about Suji and her thoughtful texts. 

Because how can he think of anything else when you’re right in front of him, freshly fucked by his best friend?

“What are you—?! Mingyu!” 

He doesn’t listen when you scold him for picking up the bigger glass shards off the floor with his bare hands. He needs to focus on everything but your pebbled nipples peeking through the fabric of Wonwoo’s shirt. The hem fluttering across your bare thighs. The way your face is still flushed with sleep and what Mingyu presumes is that post-orgasmic haze. 

Because if he doesn’t, he might just end up doing something he’ll regret for a lifetime and more.

But it’s just as you said earlier—Mingyu is clumsy; even more so when he’s had way too many Jägerbombs than his tolerance can actually handle. So he isn’t really surprised when one of the sharp edges splits the skin of his hand open, blood quickly seeping through the wound as he unceremoniously drops the shards he collected on the kitchen island with a hiss.

“You’re such a big idiot,” you groan before marching off to the bathroom.

When you come back with the first-aid kit that Mingyu himself had stocked when he and Wonwoo moved in, the first thing that comes to mind is how you’re pretty much a regular fixture in their home now. You know where the first-aid kit is. You know where Mingyu keeps the brooms and mops and dustpans. You know that he doesn’t like leaving messes in the house even if it’s a mess that Mingyu himself was responsible for making. 

You’ve inserted yourself seamlessly into his and Wonwoo’s daily lives and Mingyu isn’t certain how long he can keep pretending that isn’t the case. 

“Just leave the shards be,” you grumble before dragging him off to the sink. “Let’s clean it up after I clean you up.”

Mingyu remains silent as you apply ample pressure on the wound, listening to you mutter about how the bleeding has to stop first before it can be disinfected. He doesn’t really process much of what you have to say—too caught up in how his pulse roars in his ears from the way your fingers press firmly against his own. 

He’s vaguely aware of his phone buzzing every now and again where he left it on the counter, but Mingyu doesn’t even feel the least bit apologetic for leaving Suji hanging more than he already has. 

Right now, you’re the only one that matters.

“Alright, I think it clotted pretty nicely,” you observe with a small, relieved smile as you lift the piece of cotton you used to stem the bleeding. “Go wash your hands, big boy. Sit with me on the couch after so I can wrap a bandage around it.”

If he was even the slightest bit sober, Mingyu would’ve huffed and insisted that he can do that by himself. It’s not like he sliced off his entire arm like he did with Godrick the Grafted when you watched him play Elden Ring a few weeks back. 

But Mingyu isn’t sober and all his stupid, drunk brain is telling him is to do as you say because he knows it’ll make you less worried. 

Your touch is weighted with tenderness as you patch up the gash on Mingyu’s finger. There are no sordid remarks about his carelessness to be said—only the implicit concern that permeates off your being and rings in his ears. But even if Mingyu’s head is still swimming with liquor, he’s empathic enough to be able to tell that him dropping a glass of water isn’t the only thing you’re upset about tonight.

“Gyu, did I do something wrong?” you murmur, smoothing your thumb across the bandage once it’s in place. “You’ve been avoiding us a lot lately.”

He finds your choice of words a little…interesting. 

Of course, Mingyu wouldn’t put it past you to notice that he’s been noticeably absent in the apartment these days. But for you to assume that it’s because of something you alone have done and not include Wonwoo in the narrative? You know him so well, it makes his chest burn with an emotion he can’t name.

Or maybe he’s just really fucking drunk.

“Why would I be avoiding you?” Mingyu chuckles, resting the back of his head against the cushions as he stares at the ceiling in a pathetic attempt at playing it cool. “I’ve just been a little busy is all. Don’t tell me Wonwoo-hyung misses me or something.”

“Maybe. But what if I miss you, too?”

The silence that follows is a little too loud in Mingyu’s ears.

You can’t do that. You can’t ask him questions that he doesn’t know the answer to.

Mingyu isn’t sure which robs him of coherent thought more: you in killer outfits and flawless makeup or you in one of Wonwoo’s old white shirts, barefaced and vulnerable as you scrutinize him with a pleading look in the middle of their living room.

He wishes he could just go back to the time when he just knew you as an up-there Twitch streamer that he suspected his best friend was fucking around with. Things were much simpler when Mingyu was merely a spectator in Wonwoo's complicated love life. But now, he’s slowly getting to know you past all the sexy cat girl cosplay and the fanservice. Past the back-and-forth banter with your boyfriend that Mingyu was once content with observing from the sidelines.

Did Wonwoo suffer through the same kind of epiphany before you started dating? It’s no secret that your boyfriend had a stick up his ass when it came to acknowledging how he felt about you, but Mingyu doesn’t fault him for it. He knows damn well that there’s just something about you that attracts people like magnets with polar ends.

People like Wonwoo and Mingyu who are helpless to your unknowing charm. 

But the difference between him and his best friend is that Mingyu has no right to feel the way he does. He’s lucky enough to get to see sides of you that you’d never show to your subscribers and he told himself that he’ll never pursue anything past that—no matter how badly he wants to.

Yet the fact remains that Mingyu is just a man too drunk to deal with all of this right now, and you’re playing your cards a little too well, whether you know it or not.

“You’re saying that you miss me when hyung is already giving you splendid company?” Mingyu laughs airily, letting his eyes flutter shut because if he holds your gaze any longer, he might just combust right there. “You wouldn’t be hanging out here so much if he wasn’t, right?”

You’re quiet for a moment, eyes boring into Mingyu as if you’re looking for something he’s desperately trying to hide. He loathes and loves how perceptive you are, but if he isn’t careful, he might end up jeopardizing your friendship for good.

Then quietly, you ask:

“Have you not considered that maybe I hang out here a lot because of you?”

Before the words can even settle inside his head, you flatten your palms against his thigh, leaning in so close, Mingyu is certain you hear the way his breath hitches. Your eyes crinkle in the dim lights as you offer up a smile with just a little more intent than he’d expect you to show.

When Mingyu’s gaze flickers to the collection of love bites you’ve amassed on your neck, his traitorous brain wonders how it would feel like to sink his teeth into your skin. To litter your throat with his marks, to have you writhing against his touch. 

“I could always just invite Wonwoo to my place, no?” you murmur, each word making the back of Mingyu’s neck prickle with heat. “But I insist on coming over here instead ‘cause I actually like hanging out with my boyfriend’s best friend.”

Then, as if his entire world was plunged into slow motion, you press your lips closer to Mingyu’s ear—one hand braced against his firm chest as he feels you grin against his lobe. 

“After all, we make such a good team. Right, Gyugyu?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck—

“We do make a good team. See? You patched me all up!” Mingyu laughs heartily before begrudgingly peeling himself away from your touch. “I’m a little sleepy though. Do you want to help me clean up or not?”

He knows he’s overcompensating, but if he doesn’t get away from you now…

Mingyu doesn’t even want to know what he’ll do.

When he deigns to look at you again, the heated look in your eyes hasn’t dissipated. You even make a fucking show of swiping your tongue across your bottom lip, staring up at your boyfriend’s best friend like you want to just…eat him up. 

But that can’t be right. He’s seen how enamored you are with Wonwoo.

You couldn’t possibly be…

“I’m a little sleepy too,” you admit, stifling a yawn that’s obviously fake. “I think I’ve already helped you enough for tonight, big guy. You go clean up that little mess you made ‘cause I’m going back to bed.”

Back to Wonwoo’s side—Mingyu reminds himself firmly.

He doesn’t really have to be told twice, nodding in agreement as he shuffles over to the kitchen and grabs the cleaning paraphernalia you were kind enough to bring out earlier. The dull ache in Mingyu’s temples makes it easy for him to do everything in silence. But of course that’s the last thing you’ll willingly give to him.

“By the way,” you start, twisting your torso halfway around to face him. The action makes Wonwoo’s shirt ride even further up your thighs and Mingyu fears he’ll have to clean up another growing mess in his jeans if he wants to get some sleep tonight.

“Suji’s been texting you non-stop. It would be rude to just keep her hanging, no?”

Figurative alarm bells start going off inside his head as his mouth hangs loose. You flash him a grin that’s much too smug for him to miss, greeting him good night, Mingyu before shutting the door to Wonwoo’s room behind you.

When he’s just about done throwing the glass shards in the trash and mopping up the water he splashed all over the floor, he retreats into the comfort of his own bedroom. He doesn’t reply to any of Suji’s text messages even after he gets changed into more comfortable clothes. 

Not when he’s now fully aware that you know.

You know that he’s got the hots for you. You know that he’d drop any other semi-attractive person he’s using to distract himself the moment you throw him scraps of your attention. He feels like a helpless fucking puppy with how easy it is for you to unknowingly lead him by the nose.

Here we have another one of Mingyu’s many dilemmas in life. The object of his frustrated affections, the person he wants the most might just want him back. 

The issue? Her boyfriend—his best friend—has no fucking clue. 

Vernon isn’t someone that Mingyu frequently hangs out with. Out of all the three other GAM3 BO1s, the youngest is probably the one that he spends time with the least. But that doesn’t mean that Mingyu enjoys his company less than the company of his other friends. In hindsight, Vernon could easily be his favorite of the younger streamers in their entire friend group.

So when Vernon asks him for some tips on making his own gym routine, Mingyu sees no problem in showing up to give his friend some advice. 

Surprisingly enough, when Mingyu arrives in his and Wonwoo’s usual place, he spots Seungkwan in the waiting lounge with Vernon as well. 

“What came over you guys when you suddenly decided that you wanted to work out?” Mingyu laughs as he leads the odd pair to the locker rooms. “When we last asked about it on the server, most of you were being such prissy little shits about it.”

“Hey, we so work out!” Seungkwan complains with a huff. “We just don’t go to the gym. Get your facts straight, Kim Mingyu.”

As things are, Vernon wants to build his core strength while Seungkwan wants to focus on cardio. He tries his best to instruct them as effectively as he can all while getting his usual routine over with. Mingyu was supposed to try adding more weights to his deadlifts but with his attention divided between his two friends, he figures that he shouldn’t risk accidentally dropping a 150-kilograms’ worth of weights on his feet. 

They’re all absorbed in their own work for about thirty minutes until Seungkwan eventually hops off the treadmill and collapses dramatically on the matted floor.

“I need a water break,” he wheezes and Mingyu laughs as he offers him a bottle.

During their quick break, Vernon whips out his phone and puts on a Twitch stream for the three of them to watch. Curiously, Mingyu peers at the screen, only to feel his stomach plummet to the pit of his stomach when he realizes whose stream it is.

Seungkwan scoffs. “There he goes again, watching Koyahngi like a closeted fan.”

“Hey, she’s playing Xenoblade Chronicles 3 today and told me to watch ‘cause I’m like, the biggest Xenoblade junkie on the server,” Vernon explains coolly while wiping off the sweat on his face. 

Mingyu frowns. “Xenoblade? On a PC?”

“Yeah. She’s using an emulator.”

“That’s illegal, isn’t it? Won’t she get in trouble for live streaming it or something?”

“Oh, sweet summer child,” Seungkwan sighs as he splays his legs across the mat for a quick stretch. “You of all people should know that pretty girls like our dearest Koyahngi can get away with absolutely everything. It’s part of her charm!”

Vernon elbows Seungkwan in the stomach, to which the latter reacts with another dramatized gesture as if he’d been shot instead. Mingyu lets them banter between themselves for a few moments—choosing to focus on the stream instead.

You’re still in the middle of preparing the game you’re supposed to play on an illegal platform, dressed to the nines in full Mythra cosplay. Of course, a pair of cat ears that match the entire fit sits comfortably on your head—as is your signature look in all outfits. 

“Oh wait, is Vernon here?” you muse out loud as you squint at the chat. “If you guys watch his stuff, you’ll know how crazy he is about Xenoblade, so I invited him as a special guest! Say hi to everyone for me, yeah?”

Vernon is so quick to snatch his phone to type in hi o/~~ in the chat, it even startles Mingyu. 

“There he is!” You giggle. “We should collaborate on another game sometime, yeah? Sucks that Xenoblade doesn’t allow you to coop.”

Out loud, Vernon snorts. “Yeah, I won’t be doing that.”

“Why not?” Mingyu asks, genuinely curious. “She seems cool with it.”

“Are you crazy? Wonwoo-hyung will kill me,” he chuckles with a shake of his head. “I know I’m the one who introduced her to the friend group, but we all know how Wonwoo-hyung is with her. If she was my girlfriend, I’d gatekeep her from the rest of the world, too. Maybe.”

The words ring in Mingyu’s ears like a stern reminder he should’ve heeded a long time ago. 

It’s no secret that Wonwoo is a little…possessive over you. He might even be acting as your pseudo-mod right this second—watching the chat like a hawk before doing public lashings for any weirdos brave enough to send anything inappropriate. 

He wonders how Wonwoo would react if he knew about that chance encounter he shared with you a few nights prior…

“True,” Seungkwan agrees before rising back to his feet with a hop. “The only person he’ll probably be cool with handing Koyahngi over to is Mingyu-hyung.”

His friend says those words while he’s in the middle of taking a huge gulp of water. It nearly goes down his windpipe when he makes a surprised noise, but thankfully Mingyu manages to not sputter out his drink all over Vernon’s face.

“What?” he asks raspily when he collects himself. “Why me?”

“Uh, maybe because he’s alright with letting you touch and hug her anytime, but we get warning glares whenever we get close to her?” 

Warning what? He’s got to be lying. Wonwoo is crazy possessive, but he does not glare at his friends just because they’re being affectionate to you.

Right?

Begrudgingly, Vernon nods at his side. “Mhmm. I think it has something to do with you guys living together for years now. You’ve shared practically everything up to this point, right?”

Mingyu scowls at them both. “You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, right?”

“What are you—oh,” Seungkwan trails off with his face reddening upon realizing. “I didn’t mean he’d be down to share his girlfriend with you like that! But hey, if Wonwoo-hyung is into it, then you’re probably the only person he’ll consider accepting.”

“Agreed,” Vernon chimes. “Anyway, are we going back to work? I can watch her stream while I’m doing crunches just fine.” 

As the three of them disperse back to their own corners in the gym, Mingyu finds himself mulling over that earlier conversation with Vernon and Seungkwan. They’re both aware of Wonwoo’s territorial nature, but openly admitted that when it comes to Mingyu, things might be a little different. 

Which doesn’t help his case at all. Because how the fuck is he supposed to move past his feelings now? Not only did you implicitly reciprocate his interest the other night to some degree, but now he’s got his other friends unknowingly rooting for him too. 

Mingyu breathes in deeply as he tries lifting 75 kilogram weights on each side of the bar all while thinking back to Jeonghan’s advice to just negotiate.

Do his friends’ words have any truth to them? Will Wonwoo actually agree if…if—

“Fuck,” Mingyu grumbles when he feels the force of the barbell’s weight flaring up his arms and muscles. But at the same time he realizes that it’s impossible to ask Wonwoo about what he wants because…

He can’t just tell him, hey hyung, how would you feel if I fucked your girlfriend? Wonwoo would probably chase him out of the apartment with a knife if he did. Worse, he’d end more than fifteen years’ worth of friendship and Mingyu loses not only that hair-strand thin chance of getting with you but also his best friend. 

That’s not a risk he thinks he’s foolish enough to take. 

As some sort of punishment, Mingyu forces himself to bear the barbell’s weight for about ten seconds before letting it drop back to the floor—the fibers of his muscles screaming in agony with what he just put them through. 

He probably, definitely deserves more than that though. 

“Mingyu! You’re late!”

Soonyoung’s jarring voice is the first thing that greets Mingyu when he finally arrives at the restaurant. The tall man is immediately surrounded by his friends—getting roughhoused for being tardy on his best friend’s special day. He lets out an easygoing laugh to brush off their teasing, eyes observing the private room Wonwoo rented for the occasion. 

“What took you so long, man?!” Seokmin complains, throttling Mingyu by the lapels of his iron-pressed suit jacket. “You’re the one who always brings out the cake for Wonwoo, remember? Seungcheol-hyung nearly set the entire cake on fire earlier.”

“Fondant icing can’t catch fire, you ditz,” the eldest of their group scoffs. “Anyway, we might as well do the toast since Mingyu’s finally here.”

As his pack of rowdy friends ushers themselves back into their seats, Mingyu lets his gaze rove around again. On the end of the long, fancy dining table he spots the birthday boy waving over at him with a small smile. Right next to Wonwoo is, of course, you—flashing him a grin with those ruby red lips as your eyes crinkle with a smile that haunts him with his eyes closed.

If Mingyu came clean and said that you were the reason he almost didn’t show up to his own best friend’s birthday dinner, would everyone else in this room hate him for it?

Probably.

Once everyone is settled into their seats, Mingyu gets served a full-course meal by the waiters bussing around the private enclosure. Everyone else was already halfway through dessert and they’re now being poured generous amounts of whatever champagne Seungkwan boasted about buying for Wonwoo as a birthday present. 

“C’mon, birthday toast!” Seungkwan announces obnoxiously loud as he eggs everyone on to raise their glasses. “So who’s going to do the honors and kiss Wonwoo-hyung’s ass for tonight?”

“Shouldn’t the latecomer do the honors?” Minghao suggests with a sleazy look. “Besides, he’s Wonwoo-hyung’s best friend anyways.”

“Asshole,” Mingyu mutters under his breath before swallowing a mouthful of his food and grabbing his champagne glass. “Uh, there’s nothing much to say. Wonwoo-hyung already knows everything I want to tell him.”

“Boo!” Chan yells from the other end. “You’re so lame, hyung. How would you feel if your best friend used that as your birthday greeting, huh?”

Joshua makes a noise in agreement. “Mingyu-yah, I’m sure there’s at least some things you want to tell him, right?”

With all eyes on him now, Mingyu feels himself flush several shades red. Goddammit. 

He forcibly meets Wonwoo’s expectant stare from the other side of the table, appeased by the warm look in his best friend’s eyes. That’s right…

Asking Wonwoo if he can have just one chance with his girlfriend is ridiculous and impossible. But saying nice things about his best friend? That’s always been Mingyu’s forte. Even if Wonwoo threatens to break his PS5 every three business days whenever the younger man pisses him off on purpose.

“This hyung of mine has grown a lot over the last decade and more. Not that being introverted is a bad thing or anything, but it’s nice seeing him become more outgoing and interactive with people outside our circle,” Mingyu starts with a small yet genuine smile. “Our dream of playing games for a living is all too real now. But for Wonwoo-hyung, he’s a brilliant professional who’s going to be scouted on the Worlds team roster pretty soon, I’m sure.”

“Now you’re just lying to my face to gas me up,” Wonwoo chuckles. 

He gestures for him to quiet down. “Ah! You guys wanted me to talk so let me finish talking!”

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Jihoon comments. “This guy says five hundred words per minute depending on how much alcohol he’s got in his system.”

“We’ll all end up going home super late at this rate,” Jun chuckles with a shake of his head.

Mingyu pouts for a moment but his friends eventually cut him some slack—keeping their teasing jabs to themselves first to let him finish his impromptu speech. 

“As I was saying,” the part time model huffs, “You’re an amazing player and an equally amazing friend. You always put up with everyone’s antics even if we all know you’d prefer peace and quiet. You’re the one who makes life just a little more bearable for me. And even if you don’t really show it much, we know how much you actually love each one of us. 

“So… Happy Birthday, Wonwoo-hyung. Please live happily and healthily for the next hundred years because I’m afraid that they’ll only release Dark Souls 4 by then.”

Once he’s concluded what he has to say, everyone at the table cheers—not for Wonwoo, but for how concise Mingyu’s birthday speech is. Those little shits. 

Either way, they all raise a toast for today’s celebrant—Soonyoung singing an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday on the top of his lungs as they all clinked champagne glasses together. Mingyu’s grinning from ear-to-ear as he watches his friends mess around with each other as per usual, thinking how he’ll never want any other constants in his life as long as they’re by his side.

But in the middle of all the commotion, his gaze tunnels into his best friend. 

Wonwoo is in the middle of talking to you with a loving smile on his lips. Mingyu is a little too far away to make sense of what you’re talking about, but you do lean closer to press a firm kiss on your boyfriend’s lips.

He can’t really name the emotion that prickles in his chest at the sight of it. The closest thing would probably be jealousy but it doesn’t sound quite fitting. Mingyu doesn’t really wish for his best friend to be out of the picture so he could be on the receiving end of your sweet kisses.

It’s more like…he just wants you to give some to him too.

But after weeks and weeks of fighting against his fatal attraction to you, he’s grown quite exhausted from all the senseless overthinking. Mingyu is now waving the white flag of surrender—ready to bury these feelings in the past where they belong. 

After all, he’d never trade all the years he’s spent with Wonwoo for a woman he’ll get over in no time. He’s better than that.

Until he’s not.

Mingyu doesn’t really know how it happened, when it started, and why he even let things get this far. 

Wonwoo was generous enough to book everyone their own rooms in the hotel just across the famous restaurant he decided to treat them in. It was mostly for Soonyoung because they all know how that man can hardly handle his liquor. But still, it’s nice to be spoiled by the most stoic out of their friend group every now and again.

Before retreating to his own room, Mingyu decided to catch some fresh air on the open balcony on the tenth floor. The breeze blew past his face nice and easy, making him feel more relaxed than he has in the last few months. 

But then you swooped down on him like an angel of death.

It’s been a while since he talked to you one-on-one like this. The last time was probably the night he split his hand open and you had to patch him up. 

Mingyu is apprehensive during the entire course of the conversation, which is weird because he’s always felt comfortable in your company. It’s his stupid fucking feelings making things weird for him. 

If only he could just wake up one day and things were back to the way they were.

He hoped it would just be one of those regular conversations where you’d eventually excuse yourself to look for Wonwoo. Mingyu can handle that. He can pretend to be fine in the face of others even if he’s rotting from the inside out because of how badly he wants to tear that lovely dress off of you. That’s something he’s always been good at.

However, when he’s in the middle of telling you a story about how Soonyoung betted a large amount of in-game Valorant currency on the possibility of you and Wonwoo dating back then, you bring a single finger to Mingyu’s lips.

“Aren’t you tired of this, Gyu?” you sigh, pouting at him so tantalizingly with your perfect red lips as you bring your hand down. 

His brows furrow together, not quite catching what you’re trying to say. “T-Tired of what?”

The corners of your mouth pull up into a pretty smile that’s wearing down his defenses faster than he’d like it to. “Of this game of push and pull, silly. I’ve been trying to get you to sleep with me for ages, but you’re such a good puppy, aren’t you? Never taking anything you want unless someone gives it to you.”

Mingyu can hardly believe his ears.

“You’ve been trying to…what?” His mouth drops into a disbelieving look. “I— You— You can’t be serious. What do you mean you want to sleep with me? You have a boyfriend.”

You make a sound of affirmation before leaning closer to him by the rails, tugging on the lapels of his jacket to pull him flush against you. Mingyu has to physically bite down a groan at the feel of your perky tits pushed into his chest. 

“I do, but that’s not important right now,” you giggle as you let your fingers trail up the curve of his neck. “Don’t you want to fuck me, Gyu? I see the way you look at me, you know. You have a bad case of wandering eye especially when I prance around your apartment wearing nothing but Wonwoo’s shirts. I didn’t expect you to hold out for this long honestly.”

The fact that you have a boyfriend isn’t important right now? And you’ve been deliberately seducing him all this goddamn time?

What the ever-loving fuck?

Mingyu still remembers how you looked into Wonwoo’s eyes earlier after the birthday toast. The love and adoration laced in your gaze…was that completely fake? Were you just using his best friend so you could get to him? 

That’s not right. He at least knows the abridged version of yours and Wonwoo’s love story. Despite how unpredictable you can be, Mingyu refuses to believe that you’ll willingly put yourself through all that if you didn’t love Wonwoo in the first place. If he’s the one you’ve wanted all along.

But the fight in him has been fading day by day. Mingyu thought he was closer to accepting the fact that he’ll never really have you the way he wants to. But in truth, he’s on the complete opposite side of the spectrum. 

It’s just the way things were before—Kim Mingyu will come running once you drop him scraps of your affection.

“Do you want to kiss me, Gyu?” you murmur, lips ghosting across his own. 

No. He wants to say no. He needs to say no.

“Yes,” Mingyu breathes instead, a thousand sparks igniting in his chest as he stares at the plump curve of your lips. “God, fuck yes.”

You make a show of dragging your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him with so much desire in your eyes, he nearly melts from the intensity of it. 

“Okay, big boy,” you giggle before taking his hand in a firm grip. “Not here though.”

The short trip back to your hotel room is swift. Mingyu doesn’t think about anything else but the feel of your soft skin cradling his large hand in yours. He doesn’t even wonder where the fuck Wonwoo is during this entire thing. All that matters is the fact that this is real and this is happening. 

If things go the way he assumes they will in his head, he’ll finally get to have you for himself.

That’s the exact thought that makes the blood in Mingyu’s veins come alive with heady arousal—tapping his feet on the carpeted floor of the hallway as you scan your keycard on the lock of your hotel room. You giggle at his impatience tugging him into the room by his necktie before the door clicks shut behind him.

Mingyu doesn’t waste any time. He quickly crowds you against the wall of the narrow hallway entrance, hands on your hips as he crushes his lips with yours like your kiss was air itself. You moan into his mouth before hooking your thigh around his hips to let him grind his hardening length against your middle. 

“You have no fucking idea how badly I want you,” he hisses between kisses, migrating to your neck to continue his onslaught against your skin. “Always walking around the house barely dressed. You were daring enough to rub the fact that Wonwoo-hyung just fucked you in my face last time too. Did you want me to fuck you the same way that night?”

“Mmm… Gyu,” you moan as he sucks on the skin just above the thrum of your pulse. “Y-Yeah… Wanted you to stuff me with your cock when Nonu’s cum was still dripping out of me. Does that make me a dirty girl?”

“It does, princess.”

Mingyu knows himself to be a person that’s easily spooked. It’s for that reason that Soonyoung likes popping out of nowhere just to do that. The reason Seungcheol likes intimidating him with a single look whenever Mingyu pushes his buttons. But it takes a lot to genuinely scare him. 

Hearing Wonwoo’s voice on the other side of this room, apparently, is enough to make the color drain from his entire face.

Wonwoo is seated on a reading chair propped by the windows with the curtains drawn, scrolling through his phone with a bored look like the sight of his girlfriend being pushed against a wall by his best friend is something that doesn’t faze him in the slightest. 

“H-Hyung,” Mingyu stutters, swallowing thickly. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

His roommate chuckles. “Mingyu, you just admitted out loud that you want to fuck my girlfriend. This is exactly what it looks like.”

“Mmm, big puppy’s being so silly,” you giggle as you inch your thighs apart, poking the tip of Mingyu’s nose with your finger. “He’s been fighting himself all this time and now when he can finally have me, he chickens out again. What do we do with him, daddy?”

…Daddy?

Wonwoo hums almost theatrically as he crosses his legs on the chair, smirking at the two of you like…like—

“Did you two plan this?” Mingyu asks incredulously, trying his best not to get distracted by your cleavage peeking from the low cut of your dress. “Hyung, why do you seem so…”

“Comfortable with the thought of you railing my girl well into the next day?” Wonwoo supplies and Mingyu winces at his crass wording. Well, he is right but— “Because I am, Mingyu. But since you’re a little slow on the uptake sometimes, she’ll spell it out for you in a way that leaves no room for misunderstandings.”

As if on cue, you give Mingyu’s necktie another firm tug, forcing the tall man to look at you with a bewildered look. You bat your lashes at him with a disarming smile before pulling him closer so that your faces are leveled.

“I told Wonwoo that I really want to know what it feels to have you inside me, Gyugyu,” you whisper. “If I mentioned any other guy, he probably would’ve killed them ‘cause he’s possessive like that. He’s only alright with it ‘cause it’s you.” 

“And she’s been seducing you for a while now. It really is a mystery how you managed to hold out that long when she had me wrapped around her finger in no time,” Wonwoo adds with a chuckle. “You’re better than me, it seems.”

Mingyu’s gaze keeps alternating between you and his best friend—unable to completely wrap his head around the idea that not only are you actually into him, but Wonwoo gave your sick fantasies his blessing beforehand. 

“You…” He breathes in deeply before turning to Wonwoo again. “You want me to fuck your girlfriend? On your birthday?”

The older man shrugs. “This could’ve happened much sooner if you weren’t so dense, Mingyu. But if that bothers you so much, then just think of it as another treat from me.”

“Gyu,” you whine, practically rubbing yourself against his thick thigh. “Stop thinking and just fuck me already, yeah? Doesn’t my big puppy want to feel me wrapped around his cock? I promise it’ll feel so much better than your hand.”

Oh. Oh. 

Mingyu isn’t sure what to focus on first—you calling him your big puppy or the fact that they know he’s been jacking off religiously to the thought of sinking his length into your wet heat. But it’s just as you said.

Mingyu should really just stop fucking thinking.

All the time he spends at the gym is put to good use when he effortlessly picks you up by your thighs and migrates to the mattress. You let out an adorable little squeal when he gently lays you on top of the sheets and Mingyu has to keep himself from moaning at the sight of you splayed out so prettily for him. 

“Are you just going to watch?” he asks Wonwoo without looking back at him, unable to tear his gaze away from you as you tug your dress down to reveal your tits. “I’d feel a little terrible if that’s the case.”

Wonwoo barks out a laugh. “Just a little?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu whispers before shrugging off his jacket and unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“Just a little.”

That’s how he ends up with his face buried between your soft thighs, tongue working on your glistening slit as your fingers tangle themselves in his mussed hair. The noises spilling senselessly from your lips are like music to his ears—egging him on to pick you apart with his tongue and fingers all while your boyfriend watches diligently from his seat. 

Eating pussy while Wonwoo acts as a willing audience is honestly the last thing on Mingyu’s lifetime bucket list, but he knows very well that life’s full of surprises. 

“Your tongue feels so good, puppy,” you whimper, thighs pressing against the sides of Mingyu’s head as he slurps at your dripping cunt. “More please. Gyu, I wanna come on your face so bad—oh!” 

He smirks against your sensitive flesh when you jolt at the sensation of him sliding his thick fingers inside your hole—two right away because you’re already so wet and ready for him.

“She can take three, Gyu,” he hears Wonwoo chime in from behind. “Four if you’re feeling a little generous.”

The idea of taking more of his digits seems to excite you more than Mingyu expected. He feels you tighten around the fingers already inside you and he groans before suckling on your clit with unparalleled fervor.

He does just as Wonwoo says—sliding in a third finger as he stretches your gummy walls open. You have all the time in the world and he isn’t in too much of a rush to make you take as many digits as he can give you. As things stand, you’re already on the verge of being fucked out of your mind from the way his mouth works on your needy pussy alone. 

“Mingyu!” you gasp when he crooks his fingers just so, making your back arch off the mattress so sexily, he has to resist the urge to rise and give you a long, sloppy kiss. “Fuck, fuck, right there! Feels so good, puppy. Give me more.”

He fucking loves it when you call him puppy and he doesn’t really know what that says about him. It’s not like Mingyu can bring himself to care though—not when you’re grinding your sopping cunt against his mouth like he’s your own personal toy. 

“Shit, princess. You’re not this demanding when I eat you out,” Wonwoo groans. 

“T-That’s cause—ahn, Mingyu…” A surge of pride momentarily fills his chest when he renders you unable to manage a coherent response. “You’re my daddy and he’s my puppy. I can boss my puppy around, right, Gyugyu?”

While Mingyu is just now getting to know what sort of dynamic you and Wonwoo have in the bedroom, he doesn’t really have any qualms about what you’ve decided on for him. He merely nods a bit too eagerly, unceasing on his onslaught of tongue and fingers. Your body is wracked with another full shiver when the ridge of his nose bumps against your clit, sparing him another beautiful moan that goes straight to his cock.

“‘m so close, puppy,” you cry out, riding his face as you squeeze your breasts in the hand not tangled in his hair. “Mouth’s so fucking good to me. Love how you eat me out s’much, Gyu.”

He doesn’t notice how he’s nearly rutting his hips into the bed in a desperate attempt at giving himself some much-needed friction. Your eyes flutter closed as your body stutters to a stop, shuddering as your orgasm finally washes over you. 

Mingyu growls as he slips his fingers out of your quivering hole, burying his tongue inside your cunt as you ride out your high. You buck your hips against his mouth and he’s much too eager to place his hands on your ass as you come back down to earth. 

To his surprise, you bounce back from that mind-shattering orgasm much quicker than he thought. Right when you stop trembling in his grasp, you’re quick to pull Mingyu up to have a taste of yourself on his lips—tongue swirling with his own as the tangy flavor spreads across the appendage. 

“Want your cock next, Gyu,” you breathe against his mouth, eyes hooded with desire. “You’ll give it to me, won’t you?” 

He’d be the biggest idiot in the world if he refused.

You quickly reposition yourself on the mattress, crawling towards the edge of the bed while glancing over at your boyfriend—still watching the show the both of you are putting up for him. Mingyu was so lost in the sensation of you grinding your pussy on his face, he nearly forgot Wonwoo was even in the room.

“Daddy, want yours too,” you whimper all while pushing your ass back for Mingyu’s enjoyment, the multitasker you are. “Can I suck you off?”

“Feeling greedy all of a sudden?” Wonwoo chuckles. “Do you really think you can take two cocks at the same time, princess? Are you that much of a cockhungry slut?” 

You nod, too high on arousal to give a shit. “Uh-huh.”

Fuck. Why was that so hot?

Despite how he initially reacted, Wonwoo gets up from his seat and pads over closer to you. Meanwhile, Mingyu takes his aching length out of his tight trousers—breathing a sigh in relief as he pumps his cock a few times. 

He feels like he should feel unnerved about taking his dick out in front of Wonwoo, but then again this isn’t something he hasn’t seen before. The college dorm bathrooms were an interesting place, but then again this is the first time he’s actually let his best friend get a look at his cock when it’s fully hard. 

The sound of him jerking himself makes you glance behind you and he swears hearts nearly dance in the pupils of your eyes when your gaze zeros in on his dick.

“You’re so fucking huge,” you groan as Mingyu rubs his length along your ass. “Daddy, you’ve got a best friend with such a pretty fucking cock and you didn’t even bother telling me? You’re mean…”

The laugh that rumbles in Wonwoo’s chest betrays the fact that he’s a little ticked off with what you just said. “Baby, I’m already doing a lot for you by letting Gyu fuck you open. Keep abusing your pretty privilege even more, and I’ll fuck your mouth until you can’t say ridiculous things.” 

Of course, Wonwoo’s threat garners the exact opposite of his intended reaction. Mingyu feels your slick gush out of your entrance at the prospect of being used by your boyfriend in such a demeaning way and he sighs with disbelief.

“Hyung,” he calls out as you work on Wonwoo’s belt and zipper. “Do I need to wear a condom or…?”

His best friend hums momentarily. “That’s up to her. What do you say, baby? Do you want to feel Mingyu’s monster cock raw or not?”

You pause from undoing Wonwoo’s pants to turn around once more, taking Mingyu’s heavy length in your hand as you practically salivate over it. Then, with careful movements, you guide his cockhead to your gaping entrance and Mingyu nearly comes right then and there.

“Wanna get pumped full of your cum, puppy,” you mewl. “Need your big cock to stretch me out so bad. You want that too, right?”

Of fucking course he wants it.

You let out a choked up noise when Mingyu eases himself inside you—trying his damn hardest to not just shove his entire length into you in one go. Wonwoo smirks at your reaction before taking out his own cock. 

Mingyu isn’t one to compare dicks with his friends, but he’s got to say that Wonwoo is definitely well-endowed. It’s no wonder that you were fucking around with him for as long as you were before finally dating the guy.

But Mingyu pushes all thoughts about that in the back of his mind, relishing in the feeling of your tight, warm cunt enveloping him in delicious heat. He groans when he manages to bury himself to the hilt—cock pulsating with each second that passes. 

“Take daddy’s cock down your throat while you let your cute little puppy fuck you stupid,” Wonwoo instructs as you open your mouth to do as you’re told. Then, when your boyfriend is sure you’ve adjusted well to Mingyu’s size, he meets his best friend’s gaze and gives him a minute nod. “Go ahead, Gyu.”

“Fuck my girlfriend just like you dreamed of doing.”

Never in Mingyu’s wildest dreams would he imagine getting to hear those words straight out of Wonwoo’s mouth, but he isn’t about to waste any more time processing the information. He simply pulls his hips back—letting you feel every inch of his engorged cock—before slamming back into you with enough force to drive Wonwoo’s dick further into your mouth.

Your moan is promptly silenced with your boyfriend’s length and Mingyu hisses as he palms at the swell of your ass. 

He’d hate to bust his load when it hasn’t even been five minutes since he’d slid himself inside you. But your pussy flutters around him so fucking good that he has to breathe in deeply to keep himself from coming too early.

“Gyu, look at me.” 

Mingyu’s momentarily puzzled by Wonwoo’s request, but he complies with a look of inquiry in his eyes. He then notices that his roommate is holding your hair up with one hand as you bob your head up and down and his phone in the other.

“We kind of have this…thing where we film ourselves during sex,” he explains. “Is it okay if I do that now? The footage will strictly stay between the three of us.”

Fuck. You film sex tapes with Wonwoo? Mingyu didn’t know it was even possible, but he just got harder inside you. 

“I-I don’t mind,” he manages to wrench out. “God, please airdrop it to me after, hyung.”

“You want a POV shot of her sucking you off, huh? Got it.” Wonwoo simpers as he unlocks his phone, tilting it high enough to get a good view of you with his cock in your mouth as Mingyu pounds you from behind. 

“What a pretty thing, getting fucked by two cocks at the same time,” he chuckles as he records the entire ordeal. “How can you ever go back to just having one, huh princess? You’re so insatiable after all.”

You’re unable to dish out a response of your own for obvious reasons, but as Wonwoo attempts to get you to deepthroat him, Mingyu presses a hand on the small of your back. Just a little so you wouldn’t lose your center of gravity, but it’s enough to make your spine arch into an angle that lets him hit it a tad bit deeper.

The reaction it incites from you is immediate and he can see Wonwoo’s smirk widen when you practically choke on his cock at the added sensation—tears gathering on your lash line because Mingyu just found your fucking g-spot. 

“Gyu’s cock is splitting you wider than you can handle, isn’t it?” your boyfriend taunts as he pushes you further against his navel. “You’ll let us finish inside you like the cumslut you are, won’t you? It’s the least you can do for tormenting Mingyu all this time.”

He says the words as if he didn’t have a hand in making Mingyu lose his mind for the better part of these last few months. But he can’t really pay much attention to his best friend’s hypocritical admissions. Not when your walls are clamping around his cock so tight, he can barely hold out even if he wanted to.

If anyone else is in his place, they wouldn’t stand a chance either. With the squelch of your cunt with each deep stroke of his cock ringing in his ears, Mingyu wants to burn it into his memory along with the sight of your cream gathering at the base of his cock every time he presses his hips flush against your ass. 

Not to mention the sight of you taking your boyfriend’s cock like a fucking champ. You haven’t once pulled away for a breather since Wonwoo slid himself inside the heat of your mouth and Mingyu can only wonder if his best friend would allow him to feel that next time.

If there’s even a next time.

“Pussy’s so fuckin’ greedy,” Mingyu groans through gritted teeth as he feels the release sizzling beneath his skin. “Can I come inside you? Let me stuff you full?” 

Still unable to verbalize your responses, you let out another muffled noise in agreement, tears and drool sliding sloppily down your face as Wonwoo chases after his own high. 

His best friend lets out another evil chuckle. “Take all of Gyu’s cum, princess. Can’t let a single drop go to waste now, can we?” 

That’s practically the last straw for Mingyu—hips stuttering to a halt as his white hot emission shoots into your swollen cunt. You moan around Wonwoo’s cock as your boyfriend batters your throat with the head of his cock, absolutely addicted to the feeling of Mingyu’s thick cock pulsing inside you as he dumps his load. 

Just when you thought he’d collapse onto the bed right away, though, Mingyu quickly scrambles onto his back—positioning himself underneath you as he hoists your hips to nestle against his face. Finally, you let Wonwoo’s dick slip out of your mouth with a surprised, “Puppy, what are you—”

The words quickly die on your tongue when you feel Mingyu slurping the mixed essence from your pussy, eating his own cum alongside yours as he lathers your quivering slit with the mess he’s made between your thighs. 

Wonwoo lets out an amused chuckle when you struggle to take him back into your mouth again, much too distracted by the overeager Mingyu cleaning you up in the most unorthodox way possible. 

“Pretty baby’s so fucking spoiled today,” he sighs, feeling his own orgasm just a few strokes away. “You’re close aren’t you? Go ahead, baby. Come on Gyu’s mouth again and I’ll give you my load as a little present.”

Mingyu groans against your sloppy cunt as he sucks on your clit, bringing you to that high he already coaxed out of you earlier. You’re full on crying now and Wonwoo’s got everything on film. 

He just knows this’ll be a night he’ll spend countless more nights jacking off to and he feels absolutely no shame admitting it to himself.

“Fuckin’ take it all, baby,” Wonwoo rasps as he finally comes—pouring his viscous cum down your throat all while your muscles spasm from Mingyu’s unrelenting ministrations. “That’s a good girl…”

He finds it a little endearing how you both came at the same time, but then again, Mingyu figures that if you’ve been having as much sex as he thinks you had with Wonwoo, equally timed orgasms are a regular thing.

When all’s said and done, Wonwoo takes it upon himself to properly clean you up in the bathroom. He tells Mingyu that he doesn’t have to come if he doesn’t want to, but the part time model still feels partly responsible for the devastated state they both left you in.

So there you are soaking in the bathtub that comes with the hotel room’s en-suite as your boyfriend and his best friend take turns in the shower.

“I can’t believe you two played me like that for so long,” Mingyu sulks, checking his reflection in the mirror as he towels his hair. “If you wanted to have a threeway, you could’ve told me without making me go through this entire moral dilemma of wanting to fuck my best friend’s girl.”

Wonwoo chuckles from inside the shower. “Now, where’s the fun in that, Gyu?”

“Mhmm.” You giggle as you scrub your sore legs with a sponge. “It was pretty amusing seeing you so torn up, puppy. But we’ve had our fun. I promise not to tease you too much next time.”

Silence falls between the three of you and nothing but the sound of water from the showerhead hitting the floor rings in Mingyu’s ears.

“There’s gonna be a next time?” he dares to ask before glancing worriedly over at Wonwoo.

His best friend emerges from the shower with steam billowing out of the door and into the vent. Wonwoo’s wearing a casual, laid-back look on his face like this isn’t news to him.

“Yeah, remember when you mentioned me being recruited on the Worlds roster?” Wonwoo asks and Mingyu nods hesitantly. “Yeah. I actually got an email offering me a spot as a T1 trainee.”

Mingyu’s jaw nearly drops to the floor. “You’re kidding. You’ll be on the same team as Faker?”

“Hey, I’m not sure yet ‘cause I have to go to this bootcamp thing and everything,” his best friend chuckles before padding over to where you’re still lounging comfortably in the tub. “But since bootcamps take months to finish, my princess over here might feel a little lonely without me.” 

You pout when Wonwoo plants a loving kiss on your nose. “I’ll die if I don’t get fucked stupid at least every three business days.”

“I know, baby. That’s why Mingyu over here is going to keep you company while I’m gone,” Wonwoo says out loud. “Right, Mingyu?”

With two pairs of eyes on him, the part time model gulps nervously. 

It’s one thing to join them in bed to fuck you at the same time. But for Wonwoo to willingly leave his girlfriend in Mingyu’s care while he’s away for pro gamer bootcamp? 

Part of him feels like he’s skipped several steps required to get to where he is now. That the offer is way too good to be true and that the universe will pull up with a fucking gotcha moment at him one day when he least expects it.

But Wonwoo seems so sure that he’ll accept and the look in your eyes glimmers with so much hope, Mingyu couldn’t bear to deny the implicit request even if he wants to.

So, with a deep, bated breath:

“Sure thing,” he says with a toothy smile. “What are friends for, right?”

part one - part two - part three - part four

⟢ end notes: hehe you made it to the end! thank god! this was meant to be concluded in part 3, but the plot line where mingyu finds out the identity of his favorite twitter porn girl is gonna take up tens of thousands of words again and i decided that it deserved its own chapter lol i still have much in store for this throuple so i do hope you tune into their sexcapades in the future <3 your reblogs and tags and other comments inspire me to write sooo much so it'll mean the world to me if you left your thoughts for me to read hehe~ p.s. i'll add links to the masterlist and other parts for easier access later bc tumblr is stupid when it comes to showing posts with links in the tags

this is part of the game over series!

[kingtomura]

Vitality | 5

Summary: You were always told heroes and villains had no place in your home. Not when there’s an increase in crime, not when there’s monsters on the loose in Hosu and certainly not when the man in your home raises a hand to you.  All it takes is one impulsive decision to change your life forever. content: shigaraki tomura x female reader, slow burn, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, reader has a quirk, graphic depictions of violence, past abuse, past sa, angst, pstd, eventual smut, dark themes, found family LoV, mdni wc: 5.8k | prev | chapter 6 | m. list | read on ao3

Shigaraki can’t seem to figure out what it is about you that pulls you to him. It’s something that gnaws at the walls of his brain and it makes his skin itch. 

When he’s plotting schemes — you’re there. When he’s in the field, away on missions that will progress his goals — you’re there. And when he closes his eyes at night to go to bed?

You’re there. 

Haunting his mind like a ghost. 

A ghost of his past, a ghost of his present. He just can’t put his finger on it but there is a familiarity in you that only he can see. 

Shigaraki has always had hazy memories, but this one is so distinct — it replays in his mind at the worst of times. 

Is it your face? So innocent, so kind, but filled with hidden valor. Something so easily overlooked by your usually skittish demeanor. 

Shigaraki has taken notice of that. It was one of the first things that caught his eye about you. 

But is it your personality? The way there is more than meets the eye — a budding courage and fortitude growing under the concrete of your fragile frame of mind. 

He didn’t know. All he knew for the time being was that this bothered him. It gave him things to think about that had nothing to do with the new society he would bring. 

It was a distraction. 

There’s a sharp pain along the side of Shigaraki's neck and it’s then he realizes his bad habit of scratching has made itself known again. Something he’s been trying to work on has pried its way back into his mind. 

Whatever. 

It doesn’t matter what these feelings mean — all that matters is his goal and his plans to bring it into fruition.

Anything else is a distraction. 

———————

You have to leave today. 

The mission shouldn’t take long — three days max, but you still feel anxious about it. Dabi is in charge and you trust him to know what he’s doing. 

You don’t really trust him to keep you safe, though. 

It should be simple enough — stay back, do your job and come back to the base. 

A quick and easy mission. 

Or it would have been, until Dabi paid you a visit. 

“Do you understand?” his voice drags, air of boredom present as if he didn’t just turn your world upside down.

Dabi wants you to help on the mission. He wants you to—

“But that wasn’t the plan! I’m a healer.”

His cerulean eyes narrow, slight hint of irritation flashing over his features before it's gone again, “I know what you are. This would be more useful.” 

You stare at him as he flippantly waves you off and starts towards your doorway, unaware that you are sick at the notion of helping someone cause harm. 

“It’s not optional.” He tacks on, words ringing in your ears. 

You're struck still as Dabi departs, leaving you alone to bear the burden of silence as you anticipate what your new role will bring. 

It’s clear that you’ve lost. 

Dabi wants you to help him interrogate the moles.

He believes that your healing would pair well with his burning. A tactic that can wear the moles down enough to give the information Dabi seeks. It’s a cruel task and one you were not sure you could go through with. 

You may be a villain now but you are not evil.

You were not cruel — no matter how cruel the world had been to you. 

The thoughts weigh on your mind as you move to stand, nerves buzzing as you begin to pace around your room.

No, no, you were a healer. Maybe you were never intending to be a hero, but you never want to harm others either. Even if those others hold the title of villain. 

There had to be another way.

You stop, still in your tracks as the metaphoric lightbulb goes on in your head, steering the gears on your mind into action as the thoughts fall into place. 

You had an idea — a plan.

A small smile makes its way onto your face and you feel as though you’ve solved the unsolvable. 

Maybe, just maybe, no one had to get hurt on this mission.

———————

The sound of dripping pipes and scatter of steps too small to be human grate your ears and make you shudder. 

It’s creepy down here. 

That’s the only thing that comes to mind as you trail behind Dabi through abandoned tunnels. 

You sidestep some fallen debris and realize that the underground tunnels here are a reminder to never take the tunnels below the bar for granted. 

It’s slummy, it’s dark and it smells like abandoned agony. 

There are graffiti stains along the walls, leaking pipes against the ceilings and the floors are littered with fluids of all colors. 

Just being down here makes your stomach twist as your body subconsciously moves closer to Spinner, who trudges beside you as you all navigate through the area. 

Your father would have never allowed you to roam a place like this. 

But he’s not here anymore. 

And you’re a villain now. 

(Kind of.) 

Dabi is in front of you, leading the way as you all trek the halls of the abandoned underground. He moves with the confidence of someone who has seen and done this a million times. You absently wonder if he has. 

You knew next to nothing of Dabi. Nothing about where he’s from, how he’s grown up or where he got his burns — nothing. 

But with his steel gaze and uninterested tone, you think it’s better that way. 

Maybe knowing nothing could be a gift. 

“How much longer?” Spinner breaks the silence as his voice echoes through the halls. 

Dabi doesn't look back, only continuing his trek along the tunnels. “Just keep moving.”

As desperate as you are to know where this trek is heading you decide to hold your tongue. The air of this place is eerie enough and the sooner you get there, the sooner you can leave. 

But it’s odd, you’ve been walking for what feels like hours and you can’t help the nagging feeling that nothing has really changed. 

Not until you all come up on a large corridor. One with two identical, dark pathways. 

Dabi stops in his tracks, leading you both to follow his actions. “Alright wannabe, you go left, I’ll go right.” He throws you a glance, features as indifferent as his tone. “Healer, you’re with me.”

“We’re splitting up?” Spinner pipes up, frustrations of the endless trail palpable and you silently wonder if sending him alone was the safest way to go.

“To cover more ground. You have your way to contact me if you find them.” the arsonist shrugs, mind set on the given direction and you hurry to keep up with him — Spinner going in his respective direction with more brevity than you had previously given him credit for. 

There’s a slight ping in your chest and you kick yourself for thinking Spinner couldn’t hold his own alone. He was still a part of the League afterall. 

You and Dabi both veer right, into the limitless corridor with dim lights sparking like they could go out at any moment. 

This is not a place you would want to find yourself alone in. 

With the crunch of broken beer bottle glass and deep red splatters of what you could only assume as blood along the walls, you truly wonder what you’ve walked into. 

You decide to tread beside Dabi, catching up to his stride and ensuring he won’t leave your sight. 

The warmth radiating from his body is as nice as it is intimidating. It shows just how hot his body naturally runs from his dormant quirk. 

But it’s comforting. It blankets you and soothes the goosebumps that had spread across your skin in the chilled air of the tunnels. 

The silence between you feels natural and not forced, even though your curious questions about his past pry themselves to the forefront of your mind. 

You prefer this, you think. Wandering in silence while looking for the moles. You almost feel.. safe with Dabi here to guide the mission. 

“Hey—”

You gasp and turn back, swearing you heard another voice.

But there was nothing there. 

“Spinner?” You call out into the depths of the hall, walls fading into pitch black as you stare and wait for a response. 

The dark abyss is quiet as you wait for any signs of movement, but everything is stock-still. 

You turn back to Dabi, eyes lingering on the darkness, “did you hear that—?”

You look around but the arsonist is nowhere to be found. The sinking feeling in your heart deepens as your palms grow sweaty with simmering fear.

“Dabi?” 

Nothing. 

He was there just a moment ago, there was no way he could have left your sight. It’s a one way hall with no other doors. 

No, you think, panic rising as you move to sprint down the hall, go the way you know he has to be walking, Dabi wouldn’t leave you in here alone. 

Before you’re able to take your next step, hands engulf you, the sheer shock causes a cry to escape your lips only to be quieted by another hand covering your mouth. 

“Gotcha.”

———————

There's a sluggish and slow pull as you fight to open your eyes. Your nose twitches as your body feels like it's been thrown underwater and brought back to shore just moments before an inevitable demise. 

You feel heavy.

It’s a struggle to move your arm and it takes even longer for you to realize they’re being held together by your wrists. You fight harder to blink yourself awake and it’s then that you notice the voices speaking amongst themselves in the foreign space you’ve found yourself in. 

Your vision is blurry but you flutter until there’s clarity. 

Their voices sound muffled, like you were really underwater as they spoke, but the more you focused the clearer things became. 

There were three men in this room. 

One had dark hair and gleaming red eyes, while the other looked to be much younger. He sat atop a dusty desk and leered at you from a distance, speaking with the third man in a tone too chipper for the line of work he must be in.

The third man in question had you held by the wrists. 

He was behind you, laughing as one hand held your wrists and the other roamed in places that made you feel sick to your stomach. 

“Oh look, she’s awake. Morning princess.” The younger one spoke, green eyes almost glowing despite the darkness of the room. 

Morning? No, there was no way it was morning, but you couldn’t tell up from down right now. You tried and tried, but the grogginess you felt just would not go away.  

You move to speak, but the man behind you is faster, bringing a hand to your mouth to stop your voice before it's free. 

Your eyes dart around the room, seeking any form of familiarity. You only spot a worn down chair that one of the men had occupied, an old, dusty office desk and several metal wire shelves. 

Nothing helpful.

You try again to release your wrists, body slow moving and feeling as though it had been made of lead, but you fight with the strength you have. The man behind you only chuckles, easily amused by your struggle. 

“Whoa there, don’t hurt yourself. My quirk has you doped up with enough tranquilizer to take down a bear.” 

His quirk. Of course. 

You mentally kick yourself at the oversight. How could you be so naive? 

He leans closer, breath ghosting your ear. “Just relax.”

You scramble to remember your training, your fighting skills, anything but it all comes up short against a real life threat. The reality of the situation only makes you sick to your stomach and you cannot believe how woefully unprepared you are.  

You look at the two men in front of you through dreary eyes and know that it doesn’t take a genius to see where this is going. 

Your brows knit in frustration as you begin to feel lightheaded once more, but you desperately try to stay centered. 

“We really don’t have time for this.” A voice speaks up, it's the man with dark hair and narrowed eyes glaring at the other man holding you. You finally notice his lit cigarette and the way it’s awful smell clouds the room. 

The sleeze behind you only chuckles, dark and low as he removes the hand from your mouth to grab your cheeks, squeezing them as he releases your wrists, knowing his quirk has made you weak enough to do so. He pulls you closer by the waist. “Don’t we? Look at her. You don’t come across this often.”

The other nods in agreement, rising from his place on the dusty desk in the corner of the room. Even in your haze you can tell this place is dingy and abandoned — filled with old worn furniture that wouldn't sit on if they paid you. 

“Yeah, you should loosen up.” He mocks, stalking towards you with a sly grin, calling back to the third member of the trio. He places a hand on your head, moving your hair from your eyes. “She’s cute.” 

Your breath is ragged as you struggle against the hold, forcing the man to release your face and he pins your arms behind your back again instead. “Whoa there, feisty.” 

His laugh echoes in your ears and you desperately wonder where your comrades could be at a time like this. 

The man before you watches as you search the bare room for any kind of exit, an amused smile on his face.  

“Any chance that Blue Flame guy will interrupt us soon?” The one behind you speaks, and you close your eyes, knowing he’s gotten you figured out. 

“No way. He’s still stuck in disillusion. By the time he breaks out of it we’ll be long gone.” They both laugh at the idea and it puts your stomach in knots. Of course the other would have a quirk like that. 

No wonder it felt like you were going in circles. 

It’s because you had been. 

“That’s what I like to hear.” 

The next moments feel like a blur as you struggle to catch your breath. 

He is swift as he turns you toward the desk, pushing you forward and bending you over the dusty surface with ease. The panic from before is back and beating against your chest at full force. There was no way this was happening. 

Not like this.

You start to thrash again, even though your body feels like you're trailing it through sludge. 

It's pointless.

You try again to yell — to call for Dabi who was supposed to be with you throughout this, but nothing comes out. God only knows where he could be now, trapped in some illusionary quirk, blind to the time passing by. Wandering for hours. 

Completely oblivious to the danger you were in. 

Your knees tremble when you feel the heat of the other man leering over you, it makes you turn your head, eyes locking with the third guy in the room. 

He meets your eyes, reluctantly watching as his comrades make lewd comments about your body and move in on your space. There is obvious disdain in his crimson eyes but he makes no move to comment further. 

Damn it, damn it, damn it. 

There was nothing you could do to shake the effects of this tranquilizer quirk. Goosebumps rise along your skin as you feel the sticky residue left behind by the other man’s quirk as his hands ghost any bare skin he could reach. 

You were going to be sick. 

“The plans…” the seated one interjects, desperate to stay on topic. “We have to rendezvous with him again tomorrow night. We can’t stay here any longer.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know.” You heard the younger one interject, disinterest clear in his tone. 

“This is our last stint working with the league. Maybe we can leave them a parting gift.” The other breathes from above you, slowly dragging his palms along your clothed sides. 

The response makes the third guy roll his eyes and the younger one laughs. 

“N-no…” you find your voice, as small and meek as it may be, you choke out a whispered plea, so faint you almost didn’t hear it yourself. 

“What’s that girl?” You can hear the grin in his words, to think you had derived a plan that would save these assholes. 

To think you didn’t want them to die.  

“You scared?” He mocks, “what, you a virgin or somethin’?”

The warm tears begin to fall, pushing past your waterline and onto the dirty desk. 

“She’s crying! She is!” The blond shouts, excited at his unspoken discovery. 

“How lucky.”

The third of the trio sighs, removing the cigarette from his lips and rising from his place on the chair, but not before making eye contact with you, real eye contact. 

The kind that makes your heart jump at the notion — and then you see it.

The flash of pity. 

Your heart skips at the flash of his reluctance. 

It's so firm and so clear that you can almost feel the idea of him stepping in to save you, knowing that being a villain doesn’t mean you have to be downright villainous, but your hope is crushed as soon as it arrives. 

Stomped out onto the asphalt along with the man’s finished cigarette. 

The man sighs again, rolling his eyes at his comrades as he makes his way to the door, taking your hopes and wishes with him. 

“Well you fuckers better not take too long. I’m leaving.” 

And then he’s gone — leaving you with the men who will use and abuse you. There was a chance to stop something horrific but he couldn’t care less. 

It makes you think. 

It takes you back to your father and his never ending rants of how all men feel the same about girls like you. Stupid, naive and never able to stand on their own.

He put men like this away while wearing the mask of a public servant only to strip the mask and become the same of those he claimed to hate behind closed doors. 

But he’s not here anymore and now you were left in the hands of the unfamiliar.

You can’t help the bile that rises in your throat as you wonder if this was destined to be your fate in the end no matter what. 

You wish you had a choice. 

God, how foolish had you been. 

How naive of you to want to save these men from the League's wrath. 

You should have known better. You’ve been shown time and time again. 

They are all the same. 

They would always only want one thing from you and there was nothing you could do to stop or change it. 

But…

There’s a flash in your mind, of narrowed red eyes and soft pale hair. 

You think of his gloved hand, offering his drink to you. Of his hushed laugh late that night when you unintentionally insulted him. The leader of this group of villains you’ve found yourself a part of, the one who has treated you with nothing but respect since he’s met you. 

The sickness returns. 

The humiliation burns at your eyes. 

Tomura trusted you to be here and now you will pay for it. 

It’s as ironic as it is cruel. 

You were going to be sick. 

“What a prude.” The guy scoffs and turns to his younger comrade, bringing you out of your dissociated stupor and back to your unfortunate reality. 

He lifts you once more, putting your body on display for his younger friend and brings a hand around to cup your clothed breast.

He’s loose with his movements, halfheartedly holding your wrist with one hand and gloating with the other. It’s enough to leave your other hand free and you wince as it dangles by your side. 

You feel the breeze of the open door, pitch black outside of it and wish you had the strength to make a run for it. 

You were so close, like a carrot dangling in front of you face, but just far enough to be out of reach.

His words feel loud in your ears and you close your eyes, resigned to your fate.  “He doesn’t know what he’s missin’ out on.” 

“Oh, yeah?”

The man tenses and that’s all you register before you feel a strong pull. 

A heavy hand grips your forearm and pulls with a force you’ve never felt before. It’s so hot you almost feel burned but your mind is too groggy to care. 

And then it happens. 

You feel it before you see it. 

Blue flames erupt into the room that you were pulled out of. 

If there were screams they are too distant to be noted now. All you feel is heat and you’re beginning to sweat. You can't tell if you’ve been overdosed by the guy’s intoxicating quirk or if your mind was too stressed to care. 

All you can do is pant and struggle to watch as the familiar blue flames lick the frame of the door and incinerate those inside of it. 

(And as you watch the room bathe in flashes of cyan blue and purple hue, the sleezy men wither away into ash — into nothing — it finally clicks in your mind that oh.

His villain name means creation for this reason exactly.)

The men who held you before were no more. That thought alone would have sent you into another fit of tears if the heat from Dabi’s flames hadn’t dried the trails of them from before. 

The flame user in question stands beside you, breathing heavy and teeth bared. You can’t tell if the smell of burning flesh is coming from him or the two bodies he’s just burned and you don’t think you can stomach another thought towards the answer. 

His brows are pinched in anger and you don’t think you’ve seen this much expression from the man since you’ve known him. 

The hand holding your arm is gripping you so tight it almost hurts, but you couldn’t pull away if you wanted to. 

As if the idea of letting Dabi go would take this all away — as if it would make you wake up and face a reality where Dabi is not fast enough to save you. 

A reality where your nightmares are realized. 

“One of them got away.” Dabi low voice rasps and you can only register that conclusion by the footsteps echoing from farther away. He ran the opposite direction, with a head start and far away from Dabi’s wrath. “Maybe Spinner will catch the fucker.”

You can’t bring yourself to speak nor nod. The effects of the quirks toxin are still sweeping through your body with its wrath. 

There’s a lasting lump of dread in your stomach that makes you feel bolted where you stand. It pulls and pulls, dragging you lower and lower until you can no longer keep yourself upright.

You tense, mentally bracing yourself to meet the cold hard feeling of concrete, but somehow, the feeling never comes.

———————

There is something to be said to those with heavy quirks. Those who have quirks that stay for much longer than they should and linger well past their welcome. 

The intoxicating quirk of the sleezy villain before is definitely one you’re happy you’ll never encounter again. 

Your head feels full of cotton as you struggle to catch your bearings, hands gripping the sides of the toilet. It’s been this way since you woke up from the outing. 

The unpleasant remains of the toxins have ruined your stomach, and you’ve found yourself here, on the floor of the bathroom for the better half of an hour. 

A seesaw of back and forth nausea from the quirk and the fact that those two men are dead. 

Gone forever. 

Incerated. 

You don’t think you’ll ever forget the smell of their burning flesh and the final sounds of their screams. 

You wearily eye your cell phone, tossed onto the tile of the floor and locked. It’s inviting, almost calling to you as your hand hovers over it. 

You could call Shigaraki and tell him about the disaster mission you’ve just experienced, but you stop yourself. 

What did you expect would happen? That he would comfort you like he did on the roof? 

He is your leader, not your friend. 

You scoff bitterly at your spiraling train of thought. 

If you called him now It would just be a show of how incapable you are, and you can’t risk this new home you’ve found. 

So, instead of fighting a losing battle, you bring shaky hands to your forehead, the warmth of your own healing quirk soothing you in a way that feels reminiscent to your mother’s ways. 

There was no use waiting around in a stuffy bathroom. Men were dead because of you. 

You know you shouldn’t feel guilt for it — they were trying to hurt you — but the deaths are so heavy on your mind. 

Forcing yourself to stand on wobbly legs, you walk back to your temporary room. 

Shigaraki set you all up with a cover home, seemingly belonging to a family of three but long abandoned. You took the room of the young daughter, the place covered top to bottom in lace and frills. 

You try not to wonder where she’s ended up. 

Your temporary bedroom is down the hall from the bathroom, not too far for any emergency nausea. 

And from the short distance you can see that there’s someone in your room. 

The closer you get to the door the clearer it becomes that it’s only Dabi, seated and awaiting your return. It would be a lie to say the nausea you felt in that moment only came from the quirk. 

“Have a seat.”  He wastes no time breaking the air, thick rasp of his voice making you hesitate as you linger in the doorway. 

Your eyes fall to the ground as the persistent dread in your gut grows, but you do as he instructs. The bed below you feels too soft, a stark contrast from the firm one you’ve grown to know at the hideout. 

You know what this is about, but the anxiety fills you all the same. 

There was nowhere to run. 

Dabi would tell Shigaraki of your failure today and let him know how you weren’t cut out for this. You would have to leave. 

You would have to—

“What are you gonna do?” His dreary voice drags, cutting through your train of thought. 

You look up at him. 

“What?”

“There’s one more left. Are you going to sit here puking your guts out about this or are you going to finish what they started?”

You eye Dabi wearily. 

Was he.. was he trying to encourage you?

With his narrowed eyes and crossed arms this feels more like an attempted pep talk from an emotionally stunted relative than a scolding from a higher up. 

“I… I don’t know.” You murmur, unsure of how to heed this conversation. Shouldn’t you be on the chopping block right now? “Two of them are dead. I think I’ve done enough damage—”

You don’t miss the eye roll Dabi couldn’t be bothered to hide. 

“Why do you feel sympathetic? They wouldn’t give half a shit about you.” He spits and you flinch at the harsh words, knowing they were nothing but the truth. “Nobody cares about people like us.” 

People like us, you think bitterly. Villains. Outcasts. People that aren’t worth saving. People that are lost causes. There are no heroes for those like Dabi — and now, people like you. 

The thought makes you choke up, vision blurring as you bring a hand to your mouth. It’s too late to melt from the humiliation of this, and the weight of the day is just too heavy to carry anymore. 

“This world is cruel.” He continues, tone even and leveled despite your come apart. “You need to learn to stand on your own. We may not always be there to save you.”

It’s the truth. The cold hard reality you face. You would be lying if you said those hands wouldn’t haunt your nightmares for years to come. 

But you wanted to try. As futile as it may have sounded. It’s why even through your tears you speak, “I-I had a plan, you know.” 

Dabi’s brow quirks at this, head tilted in interest.

“I didn’t want anyone to get h-hurt. It was stupid, I know! But I wanted to try.”

You expect him to dismiss you, to say how naive and even childish you may sound. You don’t expect his next words. 

“And what was that plan?”

You look up, warm tears still cascading down your flushed cheeks and your nose probably looking less than sightly. “What?”

“Tell it to me and maybe we can work something out.” His cerulean eyes shimmer with curiosity. You could practically see the gears turning in his mind as he begins to piece together his own thoughts and ideas for your next courses of action. 

And you think to yourself, watching as he listened intently to your words that maybe there was more to Dabi’s personality than meets the eye. 

———————

You thought you would never be down in the tunnels again. It was unfamiliar and cold, if Dabi were to light the entire thing on fire you would be fine with it. 

Each step you take through these grotesque tunnels makes the pit of dread in your stomach grow deeper and deeper. 

It’s unsettling to be back here — even knowing the men were dead. 

You look to your right, turning down the next hall and continuing on your way. 

Spinner said the last one never left the tunnels and there’s only one way out. You’re sure he’s been backed into a corner with Dabi patrolling the area and Spinner lurking and listening. 

That only leaves you. If the man wanted to take the easier target, it’s clear he would choose you. 

You almost scoff. Of course he would. 

But you were ready today. There were no more illusion quirks and no more ambushing. There was just you and—-

You stop in your tracks, the sound of a footstep slashing against water draws your attention. 

The nerves almost build again but you force yourself to focus. This is possibly your last chance to make things right, for yourself more than anything, but also for the mission. 

Keep yourself quiet and lure him in, just like Dabi instructed. 

His movements are sloppy, you can tell from the way he blows his cover to tackle you from the back, but the same trick won't work on you twice. 

You turn, fully ready to send a punch his way when he moves, pushing you to the side and through a weakened door beside you. 

You both tumble to the floor, the hard concrete scraping against your arms as you fight for your life with the skills you’d learned from Toga. You know that with her training and your determined mind it will be all the more easy to get the upper hand today. 

And you do. 

It's a cheap shot, but you hit him where it hurts, climbing onto him when he has no choice but to coil over. 

Your bat was lost in the scuffle, forgotten as you pulled out one of Toga’s slender knives she had gifted to you. Training with her had made you adopt many of her ways, but you were thankful for them. 

They remind you of how far you had come.

Remind you that no, you were not weak like you once thought. 

You look down at the man below you, his eyes closed as he begged for your forgiveness. 

You were ambushed. 

Your training was not in vain. 

“Wait!” The man below you pleads and it's now that you can see the bags under his eyes, whether it be from anguish of his fallen comrades or the lack of sleep you know he hadn’t gotten last night. It doesn’t matter, you can clearly see the cracks. 

You pause, holding the knife to his throat with narrowed eyes, the look urges him to continue — to plead his case. 

“You don’t have to do this,” he starts and you have to keep yourself from scoffing, “I-I know what they did was wrong — I know! But it had nothing to do with me.”

Your brow twitches in annoyance, but you let him go on. This was your part of the deal you made with Dabi. You wanted a chance to hear them out, or to hear the last one out — to see if there was any way that a compromise could be made. 

But now that you had the man here underneath you and groveling you felt something you never had before.

You felt… strong. 

“Just let me go.” His words break through your thoughts, they were tired and worn. Like he knew his time was up. “I know you’re better than this.”

This time you scoff at the irony. 

Better than this, he says. As if that would have gotten you out of that room unscathed. As if being better than this would have made him step in and stop his comrades from trying to assault you.

Yeah, better than this is complete bullshit. 

He’s wrong. 

In this world there is no such thing as fairness. 

If you let him go, if you let him leave here there’s no telling what else he would leak. 

You believe this is why Dabi allowed you the freedom of enacting your plan. The plan where you wanted to hear their side, their story. But now you know better.

It's you or them. Even men who were complacent had no room for your mercy.

So with a (not so heavy) heart you stare down at the man, eyes even and leveled.  

“He’s in here!” Your voice echoes throughout the run down building and the man curses you, calls you every name under the sun but you cannot bring yourself to care. 

“You stupid bitch—!”

In a world like this one it’s win or lose. Take or be taken. 

Kill or be killed. 

Dabi is in the room in an instant, whistling an impressed tune. 

“Not bad, little bird.” His grin grows as he assesses the scene, staples pulling at his skin in ways you can only assume are painful. “I knew you had it in you.” 

He steps closer, gravel crunching under his boots as he bends down eye level with the man. 

“Now, let’s get this show started.”

[stillness-in-green]

Not-Really Chapter Thoughts BNHA 424

You know, I really think there should be a point at which Deku rushing in with no plan and doing whatever he thinks feels right should become Heroic Malpractice.

Just me?

Because, like, Shouto had a plan. He spent the time between the two war arcs specifically developing a brand-new combat technique that he planned to use to shut down Dabi's combat advantage without killing him. He convinced his dad not to change the plan like Endeavor was hesitantly sounding him out about[1]; he went out and talked and asked questions, and even if they weren't the right words every single time, he did his best and he did it with intention. If Dabi proves to be dead, it won't be because of anything Shouto did to him; it'll be because Dabi himself chose to stand back up, take a warp gate across the country, pick a fight with the guy who doesn't have the power set to shut him down without unduly hurting him, and try to replicate an Ultimate Move specifically tailored for someone with a balanced power set Dabi doesn't have.[2]

And if Dabi lives, it's still going to be because Shouto booked it across the country and used that same technique to stop him again.

1: Dabi surely would have preferred to fight Endeavor from the start, and it probably would have been the more "just" choice if it had to be one or the other, but Shouto is the nominal focal character between the three of them, so, critiques of the broader Hero-side decisions aside, Shouto's arc has to come first. This is one of those places where you can clearly see how much the decision to let Endeavor survive where Horikoshi originally planned for him to die hurts the shape of the later story.

2: Obviously ultimately if Dabi dies, it's going to be because his family and Team Hero made repeated choices to ignore and neglect him, culminating in the entire family swearing to deal with Touya together only to passively accept a battle plan that involved splitting them all and letting the kid who knows Touya the least be the one to fight him. But like, in the context of that fight, Shouto isn't the reason Dabi takes all that hurt.

Uraraka may or may not have had much of a plan, but at least the words she said to Toga reflected that she had been seriously thinking about Toga in the here and now, what Toga's told her, what Toga needs. If Toga dies, it will be because Toga chose to give Uraraka an unsupervised blood transfusion with no intention of stopping it. (With the same general caveats as in Footnote 2.)

But Deku? From the very beginning, Deku has been valorized by the manga for how much he doesn't plan. All Might tells him specifically that it's a sign of greatness shown by future "top Heroes" that, in some crisis situation, their bodies moved before they could think. Bakugou's Rising chapter is defined by him reaching that same state.

Deku claimed he wanted to save Shigaraki; he's sad in the latest chapter that he couldn't save Tenko's[3] life. But did he ever have a real plan to do that? With all the quirks he had at his disposal - both his own and those who would be in the flying coffin with him, or classmates whose presence he could specifically request - did he think hard and come up with a technique that would let him stop Shigaraki without harming him? Did he try to connect with the Shigaraki right in front of him by citing to the future?

3: And I have nothing but scorn for Deku's insistence on that name when "Tenko" goes out very pointedly calling himself Shigaraki Tomura.

Well, no. Deku obstinately yelled at the phantasms in Shigaraki's mindscape that he had no plan whatsoever. The only plans we saw him carry out were ones handed to him by the OFA collective that involved "breaking" Shigaraki's psyche; the only plans he came up with himself involved more efficiently breaking Shigaraki's body.

Way back in Chapter 130, Nighteye harshly scolded Deku by saying that his way of thinking was arrogant. He said, "Go after him haphazardly and he'll slip through our fingers. You're not so special as to be able to save who you want, when you want. (...) This world is not so accommodating that you can act the Hero because you feel like it."

It felt like something that Deku should have taken to heart, a lesson to be learned and applied later, but I never much got the feeling that he did. Nothing he did in that moment, in that arc, or anywhere else in the series afterward indicates that he thought Nighteye was right. He just chose not to talk back, and the arc ended with Nighteye dead and no longer around to pose objections to Deku's mode of heroism.

But Nighteye was right. Three hundred chapters later, Shigaraki is dead because Deku could not be arsed to plan for how he could stop Shigaraki without killing him. Because he let Gran Fucking Torino give him the intellectual out that killing someone could be a means of saving them. Because he followed his gut instincts of prioritizing the phantom Crying Child that he always saw as more valid and real than the human being standing in front of him.

Because he haphazardly acted the Hero and let his body move without thinking.

And he wants to act sad about it now? I hope Nighteye materializes in his bedroom to sneer at him every night for the rest of his life.

--

Incidentally, fuck All Might, seriously. "Wow, Deku and Bakugou, you two are the greatest Heroes ever. Fuck me and everyone else who fought tooth and nail, arm and leg, eye and earjack, life and death, to contribute to the pile of damage that was necessary to kill and/or save Shigaraki and All For One. You two got the last blows in, so you're the only ones who get the credit for it in my eyes. Hero Society is definitely going to be different and better with you two around."

[yunholuvrr]

closed doors pt.1

summary: poor yunho just can't resist himself, not when you sound like that.

pairing: yeosang x fem!reader, yunho x fem!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: this is just pure smut, yunho is a perv, voyeurism, cheating, unprotected sex, switch!yunho, idk what else to say i blacked out and wrote this in one sitting

part 2

Neither of you heard him walk in. As far as Yeosang was concerned, Yunho would be at work for 3 more hours, and for those 3 hours you were all his. He had some pent up tension that he'd rather take out on you when no one else could hear you scream his name.

Yunho couldn't hear you two either, at least not at first. He set his bags down as usual and made his way to the kitchen for a drink. Only in the silence of scanning the half empty fridge did he start to hear you. Your whining and moaning and unmistakable "Sangie please!" echoing through the apartment. Fuck.

He tries to pick up a soda and tune it out. He could go straight to his room and put on his headset and sink into a round of Valorant. He could forget all about how you were getting fucked senseless just a room over. Right?

"You can take it, right? You're doing so good for me baby," Yeosang grunts, loud enough for Yunho to hear as he shuffles to his room. You can only sigh some string of explicatives and Yunho wonders what he could've possibly been doing to you now. Did he switch positions? Is he using toys on you? Is he just so big that you go stupid? Is he bigger than Yunho? Could you take Yunho, too? Fuck.

He doesn't know how it happens, if you asked him he'd swear up and down that he'd never do such a thing, but within seconds he has his ear pressed to Yeosang's door. The sound of skin hitting skin is much clearer now, and his pace is brutal. Yunho palms the growing bulge in his pants, closing his eyes to try and imagine you more clearly. He probably has you folded in half, ankles on his shoulders and hands gripping the sheets for dear life as he ruins you.

"Sangie please .... I'm so close please," you mumble over and over, orgasm so close you can practically touch it. Yunho's eyes roll back behind his lids, one hand making its way under his pants. He tries to match his strokes to Yeosang's, but the way he's pounding into is nearly inhuman, only turning Yunho on more.

"Do you want to come, love?" A faint click and light buzz gets tossed into the mix. So he does have toys. You cry out even louder and Yunho can't help the small moan that leaves his lips. He instantly clasps his free hand over his mouth, shocked at himself. He barely moans when he's hooking up with someone, but you... you just sound so good getting fucked by his roommate. You sound like you were made to be filled up.

Yunho almost, almost, reaches his own orgasm, lost in his thoughts of you whining under him, pinned down by his hands as he fucks into you endlessly. But the persistent slapping stops, and when he refocuses he hears shuffling right behind the door.

"Let me get you a damp towel, stay there," Yeosang hums before sliding out to the hallway. A lone coke bottle is laying next to his door frame, you must've left it out there before he pulled you inside. He pads into the bathroom and starts running warm water, and that's when Yunho finally lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He had never moved so fast, hand scratching against his zipper as it flew from below his waistband, body silently and expertly slinking into his own room before freezing in place. His muscles relax at the sound of running water and he quietly sinks into his bed.

His dick is still painfully hard, and the adrenaline of almost being caught is only making him hornier. Shouldn't he feel ashamed? But the shame turns him on, too. No matter how much he tries to talk himself out of it, he can't help it. He runs his slender fingers along his member, desperately trying to build up to the pace his ears got accustomed to earlier. Your voice echoes through his head.

He doesn't know how long you've been standing there. Hell, he doesn't even know how long he's been touching himself, slowly coming closer and closer to the edge at the thought of you. You noticed Yunho's bags as you hugged your boyfriend goodbye. He had just gone to get some food, but you welcomed the short break to compose yourself. But when did Yunho get home? Did he know you were there? Might as well say hi, you thought.

Nothing prepared you for the sight in front of you now. He made the mistake of leaving his door a crack open, just enough for you to see him splayed out on his bed. Head tilted back into his pillows, right hand making quick work of his dick, which had to be the biggest you've seen in your life. His face is tinted a cute shade of pink, heart shaped lips parted in pleasure. He genuinely looks gorgeous so close to coming. Your body moved before your mind did.

"Yunho?" Lightly pushing the door open wider, you finally got his attention. He froze, his doe eyes staring at you for a second before shutting in embarrassment.

"Sorry, I was, um," he starts, but you cut him off.

"When did you get home?" He opens his eyes again, staring at you in confusion now. "Early enough to hear us, I suppose?"

You swear his fingers twitch around his dick, "I really didn't mean to intrude on you two..."

"Ah, so that's why you're jerking off by yourself instead?" You take a step closer, fully in his room now. You've been in here a few times, usually to play a game or two with both of them. The air was undeniably different than then though, dripping with unspoken need.

Yunho's beyond confused, but he makes no effort to move as he watches you slowly step closer. You would've left if you didn't want him, right? You wouldn't be so shamelessly staring at his dick if you didn't want him. Right?

"Were you thinking about me this whole time?" You gingerly sit on the edge of his mattress. Everything about this was so wrong, especially when Yeosang could come back at any second. But your brain was clouded by the sight of Yunho touching himself, eager to do the same.

"What are you doing?" His voice wavers, eyes following you. God, he looked so precious like this, scared and exposed but turned on all at the same time.

"You," he shudders at your instant response and you lean over him. There's a moment of hesitation, an acknowledgement from you both of how wrong this is. But neither of you could control yourselves.

He crosses the line first, reaching up and pulling you on top of him into a kiss. It wasn't romantic or thoughtful in the slightest, just spit and tongue and lust moving together. His other hand clinged to your hip, urging you to straddle him. You obliged, biting his lip before leaning back. You couldn't help but roll your hips on top of him, and his grip on you tightened.

"Fuck y/n," he groans, silently begging you to do it again. His cheeks are flushed bright red with shame now, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. He's so fucking pretty under you, you can't help but tease.

"How long have you wanted me like this?" You grind again. The thin sleep shorts you threw on are the only thing separating his aching dick from your heat, and wetness is already starting to seep through. He doesn't respond, only panting and bucking up into you frantically.

"Why'd you stop," he whines, breathless, as you still completely.

"You didn't answer me. How long have you wanted to fuck me, love?" You burn holes into his sweet doe eyes that look back at you, searching for some friction again. "Was today the first time you thought of it?"

"No," he whispers, even more ashamed.

"Then when?" You rest your weight back fully on top of him, only giving enough relief to make him answer.

"Since you started dating him, fuck," he bucks up again and you let him. You wonder how many time's he's listened to you get fucked senseless in the next room over. He's vocal now, groaning at the feeling of precum and your slick covering his dick. When he makes eye contact with you, his shameful sweet appearance has been replaced by something almost animalistic. You give in, knowing Yeosang could be back at any minute, and you need him just as much.

"You're much bigger than him, you know," you coo, sliding your soaked shorts to the side and lining yourself up, "but you don't know how to pleasure me like he does. Not yet, anyway."

"Please," he sighs at the sight, "you can do whatever you want to me. Please just do it already."

You only mumble a small "needy" as you lower yourself onto him, taking him fully. It's quick and it burns and you feel the slightest sense of guilt at being filled up by someone who isn't your boyfriend, but it's all worth it for the choked moans that escape Yunho's mouth. If you thought he was pretty earlier, he's fucking beautiful now. Eyes closed, brows furrowed in pleasure, a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead in sweat, lips swollen and parted as he takes in shaky breaths. God, he's perfect.

It doesn't take long for you to start moving in tandem, rolling and bouncing like your life depends on it. One of his hands traces up your side to rest on your boob, squeezing harshly every so often. Before you know it, he plants his feet firmly behind you and pulls you down, setting his own pace. He wraps both arms around your torso and pounds into you relentlessly, nothing but the sound of skin slapping filling the room.

"Is this how he fucks you, hm?" He growls into your ear and you choke out a cry because yes, this is exactly how Yeosang was fucking you not even an hour before. And it felt so good, so so good, but this feels so much better. Yunho fills you up in no way you've ever felt before, and his frame is so big you couldn't escape if you tried.

He pulls your hair down, forcing you into the crook of his neck. All you can feel is him moving beneath you, grunting into your ear as he finally gets what he so badly wanted. And then he stills.

"Why'd you stop baby?" You look up, ears ringing from the sudden silence. But when you meet his gaze, he's staring at the door. Your stomach drops.

"It's not what it..." Yunho chokes out, frozen in place.

"I knew you liked him babe," Yeosang calmly walks into the room, cap covering his eyes, takeout bag still in hand, "but you could've just asked me. I would've said yes."

[exoticbvnni]

Movie night | J.Y.xP.S.

Best friend!Yunho x fem reader x cousin!Sunghoon

Plot:movie night at your best friend’s house turns into something unexpected…and his little cousin,Sunghoon,is so ready for it

Warnings: heavy make out session, masturbation,fingering, mention of a blow job, Sunghoon is pervy,smut

Author’s notes:Little smutty crossover for y’all guys! I don’t know where this pair has come from, but enjoy!

“I think I’ll go to sleep now” Sunghoon said, standing up from the armchair he was sitting on

“You sure you don’t wanna finish the movie with us?” Yunho, his cousin, asked

“Yes. I’m tired, and I have to studytomorrow. Good night Yu. Good night y/n,it was a pleasure meeting you!” he smiled. You smiled back, watching as he left to go to his bedroom.

When you had arrived at Yunho’s, you didn’t expect to find his younger cousin there; yet, you had to admit that he was a really nice guy and that, luckily, you had a funny evening.

“He seems like an amazing guy!” you spoke, leaning onto Yunho’s side. He was your best friend, the guy you had known since kindergarten, and you were an extremely clingy person, so it was normal for you to hug him and lean against him when the you were together.

The only reason why, till that moment, you stood still, resting your back against the sofa without hugging or touching Yunho was Sunghoon:you felt pretty embarrassed, and didn’t want him to think you liked his cousin.

“He is, that’s why I’m pretty disappointed by his lifestyle” Yunho sighed, resting his hand on your thigh

“What do you mean?” you asked, adjusting onto his side.

“He’s been having two friends since middle school. In five years of high school I’ve never seen him hanging out with any of his classmates, and now, in college, he spends most of his day alone. He’s not even shy, that’s the point, he literally refuses to talk to people”

You laughed:

“He’s a stubborn introvert, but don’t get too pressed, when he’ll change his mind he’ll change his behaviour as well. For now, let him enjoy his loneliness if he likes it”

“I’m not doing much ti change him! But he’s smart, kind and funny. He has an interesting, strong personality and could rule the world if he wanted to; yet the only thing he cares about is playing Genshin and Valorant with his two friends. He deserves so much more than that, he deserves to be surrounded by so many people that love him; but as much as I try to tell him, he keeps shutting me up. He could’ve been an heartthrob as well,yet I don’t think he has ever spoken to a girl in 21 years of life -Yunho sighed, scratching his forehead- he’s a lost cause”

“He’s not a lost cause! He’s just a boy,Yu! Relax! He’s got a lifetime to open up to people. I’m sure he will. Don’t press him, and don’t worry too much! As long as he’s happy, you can be happy” you squeezed his shoulder, resting your chin on it as his hand kept caressing your thigh, playing with the hem of your oversized t-shirt.

“Maybe you’re right, I don’t know. I get so sad every time I think about what he’s missing out on. There’s a world out there, he should be so eager for new experiences but he’s…he’s completely passive” Yunho huffed

“As I told you,he’s got a lifetime. People can do any kind of experience in any period of their life. Don’t worry about Sunghoon, he will be fine. Especially if he’s smart and nice as you said! Just let him take his time, Yu. It’s sweet being so worried, but you can’t let it consume you -you hugged him, stroking your cheek against his- he’ll be fine” you gave him a reassuring smile as you watched him nod and relax against the couch.

“Maybe you’re right, yeah, I’m stressing too much. I should just…let it go and focus on the movie” your best friend commented

“Exactly, you chose it, you better watch it” you ended, resting your head on his shoulder

Yunho welcomed you in his embrace:his arms surrounded your back and his hand rested, again, on your thigh, caressing your skin.

It started as nothing, as the usual manifestation of affection the two of you felt towards each other; but, then, slowly, it turned into something else.

You didn’t know why that day things seemed to be so different:maybe you were too close to the beginning of your period, maybe Yunho had been single for too long; maybe he looked more handsome than usual due to the black tank top he was wearing,and you looked particularly sexy in that oversized shirt and ponytail; maybe it was the movie, the chemistry that lead the two main characters to a night of sex; or, maybe, there had always been a feeling that none of you had ever completely understood; however your breath got so short and your body started begging for Yunho’s touch.

At first, you would simply look at him, who was completely focused on the tv, you would hold his bicep, caressing his soft skin with your slender fingers as he couldn’t stop sliding his hand in and out your shirt, hitting the cloth of your shorts,often repeating his movements

Then, Yunho turned to you, locking his eyes into yours, biting his lips in silence; but nothing happened as he fixed his gaze on the show. He just licked his lips.

The tension was growing slowly, but strong, the need crawled inside your bodies without you understanding it, until Yunho looked at you one last time, placing a fast kiss on your lips.

“I’m sorry” he said immediately after, his voice was strangely deep.

You stared at him for a second before kissing him one more time

“I’m sorry” you spoke, copying him; but Yunho didn’t reply, he just grabbed your chin with his hand, smashing his lips against yours.

The kiss was immediately intense. Yunho devoured your lips like a hungry puppy, sucking and biting. Your hand slipped behind his neck, grabbing the hair at the base of it. You craned your back to reach his height, your mouths not moving apart for a moment; needy, they tasted each other until you ran out of air.

You stood apart for a second, your labored breaths filling the silent room, then Yunho grabbed you by the hips, making you sit on his lap. Once again, he grabbed your face with one hand to kiss you; the other slipped under your shirt, stroking your back. His fingers moved up and down, drawing imaginary lines as the first moans of pleasure peeped from your red lips

"What are you doing?" you asked, breath short and forehead resting against Yunho's.

"I don't know. Don't you like it?" he demanded, panting

"No it's just..." you couldn't speak, your mind was distracted by his hand that was moving from your back to the front, up along your stomach until it reached your chest. Yunho squeezed one of your breasts, returning to kiss you, but you stopped him for a second

"It's strange, Yunho," you murmured, grabbing the wrist of his hand under your shirt.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked

You didn't answer, not knowing what to say

"Do you want me to stop or not?" he demanded again, softly, in a whisper.

You lowered your gaze, releasing your grip on his wrist and shaking your head; a smirk appeared on Yunho's face as he begun to touch you again.

His hand squeezed the flesh of your breast, massaging it, sending discharges all along your body. You returned to kiss him intensely, grabbing his other hand to allow him to touch you. Yunho moaned; you followed him. Your chests rose and fell erratically:you felt your lower abdomen tingle and your intimacy burn. You needed Yunho as much as he needed you.

Your fingers left the boy’s arms,moving down his abdomen until they slipped between his legs.

"Fuck," he moaned, throwing his head back as you palmed him from his sweatpants.

"You're getting hard," you murmured.

"I know -he gasped- I know"

"Fuck, that's hot" you panted, starting to move your hips back and forth.

"Are you gonna fuck yourself like that?" Yunho teased you, but you didn't answer, just resumed moaning, followed by the boy.

Drawn by desire, you had completely forgotten that the two of you were not alone in the house:Sunghoon was also there.

The boy had not really gone to sleep, he was simply tired of having people around, so he had retreated to his room to play Genshin on his phone.

He had earphones in his ears, so it took him a moment to realize what was happening.

With his breath confined in his throat, he had turned off his phone, tossing it beside him, and got up slowly to see what was happening. His pants became tight as soon as, casting a glance from behind the living room door, he had seen Yunho touching you.

Immediately, he ran to his room, throwing himself under the covers:he should not have had the thoughts he was having or felt the sensations he was experiencing...but that was impossible.

As much as he tried to ignore your moans, it was too exciting to listen to you. He bit his lip, lowering his pants and sliding a hand into his boxers,touching himself in hope to find some relief.

He tried to be as quiet as possible; he didn't want the two of you to stop, nor did he want you to find out, so he stifled every single moan emitted by his vocal cords, jamming them all down his throat.

He listened to you in the darkness of his bedroom, head back and eyes shut as the situation in the living room grew hotter and hotter.

Yunho had just taken off his shirt; you,on the other hand,had been in pants and bra for a while:your best friend wanted to see you without veils, so, with avarice and desire, he had undressed you as soon as possible,throwing everything on the floor.

The palm of his hand rubbed back and forth against your intimacy, making your panties wetter and wetter as your lips filled his neck with kisses.

Yet another moan escaped your lips as you rubbed against Yunho's hand:

"I need you, Yu, please" you whined, arousing the boy even more and,with him,though unbeknownst to you, Sunghoon as well.

Never in his life, the youngest boy, had he longed to be his cousin as he did at that moment:how he wished he could have been the one to touch you with the knowledge that those moans were all for him. At the end of the day you were a beautiful girl, one of the few who had somehow affected him, and he resented the fact that the only thing he could do was jerking off to that real life porn.

"Fuck" he moaned, softly:he was about to come, but did his best to restrain himself so that his orgasm hit him only at the end of the show

"Yu, please," you continued to beg Yunho from the other room. Your best friend smiled, leaving a hickey on your neck before grabbing your hips and turning you around so that your back rested against his chest.

He moved your hair to the side, sucking in the soft skin of your neck, going lower and lower until he left purplish marks on the back of your shoulder as well; at that point, with one hand, he opened your legs and moved your panties aside, rubbing the fingertip of his index against your clit.

"Yu!" you exclaimed, sinking your fingernails into the flesh of his arms; the brunette laughed:

"You are so needy, aren't you? My little y/n crying for my fingers. You like it, don't you, little one?" he went on teasing you

Your cheeks turned red and rested your head against your friend's shoulder:

"Yu, please, please," you whimpered.

“How whiny! My little, naughty crybaby. I'll make you feel so good since you’re so noisy and cute," he spoke into your ear, sliding a finger inside you

You shut your eyes and bit your lips, tears started rolling down your cheeks as you begun to fuck yourself on his finger:

“Ah~ ah~ Yu! Yu! Mmh~” you moaned; he smirked, sliding one more finger in, and then, after a few seconds, another one.

“Fuck! Fuck!” you panted as his digits hit your g spot. He went soo deep you gasped.

“I’m-I’m about to-“ you could barely speak

“Cum,baby, cum for me” Yunho spoke as your release hit you.

Shortly after, out of breath, you let go into the arms of the boy, who kissed your neck again

"Babe don't let me down, I need you” he spoke, resting your hand on his bulge to remind you that he wasn't done yet

Sunghoo, prompted by your moans, was about to come; however, he still held back when he heard Yunho speak.

"Fuck...-he murmured, through clenched teeth-I can't hold back any longer."

He stopped touching himself for a moment, taking a breath, but started again as soon as he heard Yunho moan.

"Good girl, you take me so well," gasped the older one:the younger knew that, probably, you were giving him a blowjob; therefore, once again, he really wanted to be his cousin.

He could imagine you, on your knees, pleasuring him, his fingers clenched in your hair until he cum in your pretty mouth.

That thought had sent Sunghoon over the edge again and, finally, when he had heard Yunho's final moan, he cum. What a relief for both boys.

Yunho helped you up, making you sit on his lap. Your arms tightened around his waist and your head rested on his chest:

"That was so good" he giggled.

"It was" you replied, snuggling into his embrace.

You let your mind go blank for a moment, enjoying the brunette’s caresses; until, suddenly, a tiny detail came to your mind:

"Sunghoon!" you exclaimed, covering your mouth with one hand.

Yunho became petrified, and his cheeks turned as red as fire:

"He's a heavy sleeper..." he murmured, but you couldn't bring yourself to listen to him.

Without a second thought, you got up and ran to his cousin’s bedroom, finding the younger boy wrapped up in his sheets, asleep.

Yunho followed you:

"See? I told you, take it easy," he hugged you from behind, leading you back to the living room.

As soon as you and his cousin were gone, Sunghoon opened his eyes, taking a breath of relief:luckily , the two of you hadn't noticed anything.

[vampire-matcha]

Part 4 of cheating!Soap. Simon's POV. Angst. Potentially ooc Simon.

---

Simon Riley is a bad man. He wasn't given much of a choice really. He was dealt a bad hand that kept getting worse and worse. He tried to live a good life, despite his childhood, but it was all taken away from him in fire and blood. So he threw himself into it headfirst. He dove into it and found comfort in the fire and blood. He knew fire and blood. He's good at fire and blood.

Simon Riley is a lonely man. All his life, he's never had anyone. He keeps everyone he meets at arms-length at a minimum. He doesn't do love. He doesn't believe in it. The last time he tasted it was from his mother, and that taste has long since been replaced by the tinny taste of blood. He's comfortable being alone. He fills his time with work, and on the rare occasion he's sent back home to his barren flat in Manchester, the most he does is find a quick fuck at a pub.

He doesn't care about their names, he doesn't particularly care if they're a man or woman or something in between. He doesn't care what they look like, he hardly looks at them at all. They're just a means to an end for him. Just a warm hole to stuff himself into to feel good for a bit, to make his head quiet for a bit. He leaves once he's done. He never stays the night, never even stays much longer than to tie off his condom and pull his trousers back up.

It all changed when he met that damned spitfire of a man John MacTavish. Goes by the name 'Soap'. A ridiculous nickname in Simon's opinion, but then again, he goes by Ghost, so he doesn't have much room to talk.

Soap is loud and brash, but he can be careful and focused, too. He's intensely loyal and has a deep sense of justice. He fights for what's right, Ghost has seen it. He makes the icy shell around Ghost's heart melt, ever so slightly.

It's a slow progression, the way Soap draws Ghost into his orbit. Ghost doesn't even fully realize its happened until Las Almas. There was a moment when he thought he lost Johnny- when did Soap become Johnny? They had gotten separated and Ghost waited for him. Ghost never waited. But he couldn't, in that moment, hiding out in a church with a whole militia after him, even fathom leaving Johnny behind.

By the time Simon realized he loved Johnny it was too late. Johnny was married. Simon hadn't noticed that when he read Soap's dossier years ago. It must have happened in the time they had known each other. Simon had never pinned Johnny as someone to keep his cards so close to his chest like that, but he was proved wrong.

Johnny didn't wear his ring in the field. It was a liability, not just to have jewelry on in life-or-death situations, but also for anyone to see he was married, be it friend or foe. He didn't find out until after Chicago. It seemed that Soap's near-death experience at the top of a skyscraper had shaken him more than he'd let on. He'd snuck off at the bar to use the payphone and Ghost had followed.

"Hey, its me... Just needed to hear your voice, bonnie... No, no, I'm alright, just a wee bit banged up... Yeah, I miss you too, lovie... No I promise I'm alright. Just got a bit worried the whole 'til death do us part' thing was comin' sooner than expected... Sorry, bonnie... No, no, you're right, it's not funny. I'm sorry... I'll be home in a few days... Yeah... I'll see you then. I love you."

Simon hated you. He hated you and he didn't even know you. He didn't even know you existed and he hated you. Who were you? Some civilian? Some random woman who decided to shack up with Johnny? Probably just chasing valor or benefits or something. What could you possibly have to offer someone like Johnny? You could never understand him the way Simon does. Their bond is forged in fire and blood. You could never hope to understand it. They'd been through hell together. And yet you've wormed your way in between them. You, a woman he doesn't even know, have ruined everything. But Simon, ever the stoic sentinel, keeps it all under wraps with practiced patience. He didn't survive this long by letting his emotions control him. He'll figure out a way to fix this.

Then several months later, Simon meets you. It's after another mission, and you're picking up Soap from base, who had gotten a mild concussion and couldn't drive himself. You're there, waiting for him with a lovesick smile on your face. Simon watches as you embrace Johnny, wrapping him in your arms and holding him for a long time. Too long, in Simon's opinion. And then you pull back and hold Soap's head in your hands, turning his face side to side to get a better look at him. You laugh at something he says. Simon sneers. Oh, aren't you just perfect? A sweet little doting wife?

And then Johnny brings you over to introduce you two. You shake Simon's hand with both of yours, gratitude broadcast to the world as you thank him for getting your Johnny home safe. Your Johnny. Simon hates it. He hates how sincere you are. He wishes you were something worse, something worth hating. But Ghost reads people. He's great at it. But he can't read anything but genuine in you. And it makes him hate you more.

It isn't fair, Simon thinks. You don't deserve someone like Johnny. You haven't earned him. You haven't fought for him like Simon has. You haven't fought alongside him like Simon has. Simon has suffered. His whole life has been nothing but blood and fire. Doesn't he deserve something good for once? Hasn't he earned it? Even the devil himself got to taste heaven before he fell to earth.

That's what he tells himself on that night. The night they were stuck in that frozen safe house in the middle of Bumfuck, Russia. They'd narrowly escaped the enemy, and they didn't dare poke their heads out for risk of being spotted. Soap's radio had broken in the escape. Ghost was the only one with a means to communicate with Watcher. She tells him exfil will be there in the morning. He unplugs his radio. He tells Soap he can't get through. He tells himself that he's justified. He's a devil seeking a taste of heaven.

And what is Johnny if not heaven? Simon needs him. He needs to taste him. Johnny is worried. Simon can feel it rolling off him in waves. Simon can make it all better for him. Just for tonight.

"Who knows when exfil's gonna get here?" He asks. "What do we have to lose? It's just for tonight. Just let me take care of you, Johnny."

Simon can feel the hesitation in Johnny's body when he kisses him. But Johnny let's Simon lay him down. Simon whispers words into Johnny's ear. Not quite words of reassurance. But Simon Riley is a bad man, and a lonely man, and those two things make a nasty combination.

Simon tastes every part of Johnny's body he can get his mouth on. Neither man has bathed in days, and a lesser man would be disgusted, but Simon has experienced far worse. Besides, nothing about Johnny could ever disgust him.

And when Johnny let's him inside, Simon, that devil, finally tastes his slice of heaven. A whole life of suffering was worth is just to feel Johnny beneath him. It's perfect, he thinks. Even if only for the night. Simon looks Johnny in the eye. Simon stays with him afterward. Simon sleeps beside him.

Then morning comes. Exfil comes. Regret comes for Johnny, but not for Simon. Maybe he shouldn't had lied about his radio, but it was worth it, wasn't it? But now Johnny won't look at him. He won't speak to him. He practically runs from him when they land.

No, no, no. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. This was supposed to fix things! It was supposed to fix what you had ruined! You, Soap's perfect wife with your perfect life, perfectly ruining Simon's. Johnny was supposed to see that he needed Simon more. Johnny was supposed to see that he needed Simon as much as Simon needed him. What happened? What went wrong? Simon blames you. He always blames you.

Simon calls Johnny late that night, after he's sure you must be in bed. He pleads with Johnny to come to his senses. It wasn't a mistake! How could he say that? How could he say that it was wrong when Simon had never felt so right in his whole life? It's your fault. You've got Johnny trapped under some kind of spell. You can't love him like Simon could, like Simon does. Simon changes tactics.

"You have to tell her," Simon tells him. Maybe if you know, you'll leave. Then Simon can have Johnny all to himself, without you getting in the way again. "The guilt will eat you up, it's better if you just tell her. Its the right thing to do." Johnny reluctantly agrees.

Simon waits for Johnny to call him the next night, to tell him you've kicked him out. He waits for the call so he can swoop in and be Johnny's rescuer. Maybe then Johnny will see how much he loves him. But Johnny never calls. Simon would be tearing his hair out with anxiety if it wasn't so close-cropped to his head. What's happened to him? He hasn't lost control of his emotions like this in years. What have you done to him?

Simon drives to Johnny's house. He watches from the curb through your window. Johnny's alone. Good. He has half a mind to walk up to the door when he sees you come around the corner. He watches you two talk. He watches you cry. Crocodile tears, they must be! Poor you, having your perfect life be derailed. Simon was justified. It's only fair that you suffer even a fraction that he has so he can take some of your perfect life for his own.

But then Johnny is holding you. Johnny is kissing you. No, no this isn't right! You should be screaming at him to leave! You should be beating Soap to a pulp so Simon can put him back together! Why won't you let him have this?

He watches Johnny carry you away. He forces himself to drive away before he does something he'll regret. He speeds the whole way home. He turns his apartment upside-down. In the back of his mind he's thankful he lives in a shit part of town where no one calls the cops unless someone is actually dead. No noise complaints as he shatters every mirror.

It's your fault he's losing control. You you would just let him have Johnny, it would all be fine. But you, you selfish bitch, want to keep Johnny all to yourself. Why? Because you've got a ring? Because you made a vow? Well, Simon makes a vow to himself. No matter how long it takes, he will make Johnny his.

[ghostaholics]

wait but the angst of a soulmate au with price and not knowing he’s your soulmate: you’ve felt phantom pain for every single injury he’s ever gotten during his military career – like this man has gotten beaten, bloodied, bruised, tortured, stabbed, shot, and jumped out of an exploding helicopter on multiple occasions so he’s experienced his fair share of bodily trauma; and after it started happening frequently, you recorded each one down in a journal that you carry everywhere with you (time/location/duration) because it can hit you literally whenever, wherever on your body, for however long, and you've sworn to yourself that if you ever meet your soulmate that they've got so much to answer for

but you’re living a normal civilian life so he’s been spared the anxiety of worrying about how his soulmate’s doing, because for all intents and purposes, he’s not sure if he even has one, never met you but can at least gather that if you do, you’ve been existing somewhere safe, far away from the stuff he gets himself into

but then he does encounter you and it's in the worst way possible during the attack on London in Piccadilly Circus; Price feels the muffled pain of a shotgun to the shoulder and Jesus fucking Christ, he knows you're here in the thick of the pandemonium, never felt the crushing fear of his soulmate being in trouble before until now and it’s a startling revelation – he’s probably put you through absolute hell with all of his near-death experiences and whatnot (why does he feel so monumentally devastated?)

he has a job to do, the utilitarian in him says to save as many people as he can but his eyes are still sifting through the chaos and the mayhem, past crumbling buildings and wailing ambulances, for somebody who's got a GSW weeping blood, and he doesn't let it show on his face but there's this awful, sickening lurch in his stomach as he wades through victims, both injured and casualties alike, because shite, there's a good possibility that you haven't made it out alive and he can usually keep it together pretty well, but now he's approaching a state of total collapse for this person he's never even met, this person without a name or a face, this person he didn't even know he was tethered to until just moments earlier

and he comes to find you somewhere in the wreckage, after he's gunned down all the terrorists, finally makes it to you and discovers that you had been trying to save some little kid caught in the crossfire and took a bullet to show for it – a chink in his armor, because the two of you haven't even exchanged words but that act of valor already says a lot about you

when his eyes finally meet yours, he can see the realization dawning over you, this devastated expression that's making pain shoot through his chest that hurts more than anything he's ever suffered through with the dealing blow being you reaching out to him with a trembling hand

he doesn't know what the etiquette is for meeting your soulmate for the first time, but he sure as hell doesn't give a damn

so he cradles your face, tells you that you're safe, can't believe that you're real and you're in front of him, and his heart is an open fucking chasm because his initial thought it that this absolutely can't happen and if anybody knows what you are to him, they'll use you as leverage; cue protective price and forbidden relationship where they deny themselves each other

Price is certifiably fucked in this scenario

bonus scene is you showing him the journal where you've written down your notes and he's extremely impressed by how well you've recorded it all but something in him is utterly shattered as it shows how much longer you've been in this than him, been aware of his presence, and even though he's the one who's gotten all these injuries and had a past colored in blood, he wouldn't wish that affliction on anyone else – it kills him to know you've been sharing that burden and pain with him

so he fills out the journal as best he can because you deserve answers and despite not being able to remember everything, he does jot down a majority of the injuries and how he got them, respectfully asks for permission before showing you his scars while elaborating on some of the stories because some of them are in obvious places, but he has a lot on his chest and back that are hidden underneath his shirt and you also ask if you can touch them (you're not sure if it's appropriate, because he still is technically a stranger even though fate wills it that you're supposed to be together) before you're tracing the raised skin with the tips of your fingertips and he gently grabs your wrist to stop you because it gets to be too much after a while – and as you've both agreed, this thing between the two of you won't work with the danger of his job

imagine waiting you're entire life for your soulmate and being told you can't be with him; it's almost worse than not having one

and now that you've met him and you're trying to stay away, you're actively fighting against destiny, which the universe does not approve of and is also making sure that it hurts

but the worst part is that when he gives you your journal back, you see that he made a new entry for you and here's the info (it's the exact moment he met you)

Time: October 25, 2019; London Location: heart Duration: indefinitely

[xamiipholia]

Since it’s been a year since Burning Shores came out, some thoughts on Seyka:

TL;DR: Great character, really happy with her as a love interest for Aloy. They do some really interesting things with her that I never really see addressed so I wanted to talk about them.

She is tangibly shown to be much more of a match for Aloy through gameplay. Compared to other npcs, she solves things faster, does more damage, is a much more formidable melee combatant, faster climber - she even has a fucking Valor Surge using her Focus that does pretty significant tear damage to large machines like Slaughterspines. Environmental storytelling- Seyka’s skiff has at least 2-3 Tiderippers’ worth of parts, meaning she’s been out on her own killing the things to build boat motors, and she has some ambient dialogue that strongly suggests she’s fought and killed Slaugterspines before. Is some of this npc tech advancements in Burning Shores? Maybe, but it feels intentional. 

Seyka has a natural probing curiosity about the old world that for the most part Aloy’s other companions didn’t have without some significant hand-holding from Aloy to get them started, and some of her close friend (but not base team) characters just don’t have at all. I don’t mean this as a moral judgement, everyone is different and has different strengths and priorities , but it’s absolutely critical that a partner for Aloy have that kind of curiosity - it’s such a big part of her character. While she lives in this new world, she’s never going to be entirely a part of it. Like she says, she finds belonging in individuals, and not really the tribes. I don’t really see Aloy settling down in Meridian or Mother’s Heart. She needs to have a life of exploration and discovery and Seyka seems cut from that cloth too, whether she was always that way or being marooned gave her a fresh perspective.

Seyka did risk death using the focus and decided to do it anyway- in Rheng’s notes he calls for capital punishment for her. The threat is never *too* present but honestly I think that’s a broader critique of the series and pretty consistent with the writing of conflicts in Horizon. I agree they could have played up the dramatic tension a bit, but this is a person who weighed the risk of a military execution by a totalitarian state and immediately decided it was worth it to save her sister and others. I think Aloy can intimately relate, given what she went through for Beta.

Even though it’s a DLC, she has a TON of screen time, probably comparable to Kotallo in HFW, and Horizon does SO much storytelling through gameplay and ambient dialogue. I think she’s given a LOT of narrative space to breathe. She’s also has her own musical cues and leitmotifs that do a ton of foreshadowing work through the DLC - in terms of musical cues and framing she’s very associated with the acoustic guitar, and the flute melody in ‘Her Sky, Her Sea’ has for Aloy and Seyka the same function that ‘It Can’t Last’ does for Ellie and Dina in TLOU2 - next time you play Burning Shores, listen for it. That and the guitar cues from ‘The Idea of Home’ and ‘For His Entertainment’ do a lot of emotional work. It’s great stuff.

Okay and lastly- YMMV on this one - I’ve def talked about it with friends before but I don’t think I’ve said it on Tumblr. I’m a firm believer that meta narratives and the way that stories are situated and created in our own world matter and that art deserves to be taken seriously and dissected. I love Horizon, but it, and Aloy as a protagonist, are absolutely drenched in white savior and colonial storytelling tropes. Every time I play Frozen Wilds, all I can think of is Jack Sparrow going “and then they made me their chief”. There’s a lot of iffy stuff in the games, as much as I absolutely love them. We’ll have to see how H3 goes, but Burning Shores is MUCH better about this and honestly Seyka is a huge part of it. The story centers itself on a queer woman of color who is pretty tangibly presented as Aloy’s equal with her own strengths and weaknesses throughout the story and takes the lead just as often if not more than Aloy does, which I find really refreshing. It doesn’t entirely fix Aloy’s white savior issues but I think it’s a really good move for the narrative that continues the themes found in HFW about community and connection.

Horizon Zero Dawn: The Frozen Wilds (2017)

[missmatchablossom]

The Champion's Babysitter

Pokemon x JJK AU

summary: you are the newest dragon-type gym leader, and you've just been tasked with babysitting the pokemon champion gojo satoru, who has not been taking his job seriously.

a.n.: fem reader, a couple of curse words, kinda slow burn romance, fluffy, cute pokemon interactions, 6.8k words. shoutout @silkspunweb for putting this AU in my head <3

~

“I’m sorry, could you please repeat that? I’m afraid I’m not following,” you asked, nerves overwhelming your senses as you stood before the four toughest pokemon trainers in the region: the Elite Four.

It was impossible not to be in awe of some of the world’s most renowned fighters. How could you just stand there, not shitting your pants, when you spent so many hours watching footage of their pokemon battles? You had the utmost respect for the four figures sitting before you.

Nanami Kento, the Steel-Type master

Okkotsu Yuta, the Dark-Type expert

Fushiguro Toji, the Poison-Type wielder

Iori Utahime, the Ice-Type genius

It was an honor to be granted a private audience with them upon their request. But your reverence was halted once Nanami began delivering the news to you.

“We are asking that you oversee the business of Gojo,” he said, looking you squarely in the eyes as he adjusted his glasses.

“Gojo, as in Gojo Satoru? Our current pokemon champion?” you asked incredulously, eyes flickering between the four people before you, desperate for clarification.

“The very same one,” Yuta answered, smiling at you sympathetically.

“What do you mean by oversee?” you continued, turning towards Utahime.

“As I’m sure you’ve already heard on the news, Champion Gojo has been neglecting his post as of late. Recent challengers have been showing up to battles to find him missing,” she responded, brows furrowing in distaste. The Frosslass at her side nodded her assent.

It was true, it’s been all over TV lately. The celebrated, undefeated champion has been ghosting any challengers. The footage that you see of him nowadays is of him lounging around at different cafes, snapping pictures of the sweets he’s indulging in.

Pathetic, you thought.

“His hedonism is causing a lot of uproar. It’s a huge pain in the ass,” Nanami added, as the others murmured in agreement.

“We’d like you to check in with him now and then…encourage him to take his position more seriously,” Yuta said, the gaze of his dusclops behind him unsettling you.

You blinked a few times.

“Why me?” you asked. The four exchanged loaded glances you struggled to decipher. You could’ve sworn that Yuta’s smile felt more mischievous than usual, like he knew something you didn’t.

“You’re one of the most promising young trainers we’ve seen in a long time. The gym leaders you’ve battled and your fellow peers have vouched for you as someone of great integrity, valor, and talent. We’ve seen it ourselves.” Utahime said, causing your chest to swell with pride.

“The decision to make you the newest Dragon-type gym leader was unanimous. We hope you don’t take that lightly,” Nanami revealed. 

“Thank you, it means a lot to me,” you said. You’d worked hard your entire life to become a gym leader worthy of the Dragon-type pokemon you hold near and dear to your heart. But they were still dancing around why they wanted you to do anything with the champion.

“Forgive me for asking, but what can I do that the rest of you cannot?” you pressed, ignoring the bored yawn from Toji.

“Gojo won’t listen to us. But we believe he will at least find interest in a fellow Dragon-type specialist, especially one as strong as you,” Yuta responded.

It was common knowledge that while our champion could wield any type of pokemon, he favored Dragon-types. Not many could say the same, as most trainers found it difficult to work with the stubborn, overpowering nature that is Dragon-type pokemon. 

Toji’s heavy sigh filled the room, the weedle around his shoulders tilting its head at you.

“Look kid, we’re asking you to be his babysitter. Follow him around, challenge him to battles, do whatever you need to get his ass back to work so he can stop being a pain in ours.” Toji stated gruffly, crossing his arms and leveling you with a look.

Nanami fired a look of quiet distaste in his direction, focusing back on you.

“My apologies for his tactlessness, but he’s not wrong. We know it’s a big task, but you’re the only one we can ask,” Nanami said, his Lucario nodding its head. 

“You might even learn something from him. Few people can say they got to train with Champion Gojo,” Utahime pressed, quipping her brow. 

She got you there. While you dedicated countless hours watching pokemon battles of each of the elite 4, you studied Gojo’s battles religiously. There was no documented battle of his that you didn’t know like the back of your hand, and no matter how many times you’d seen him fight, you always felt the same awe and respect watching his talent.

The elite 4 and their pokemon stared at you intensely, waiting for your response. How could you refuse, when some of the top trainers in the world were practically begging you for this favor?

“I’ll do it if you really think I can help,” you said, fiddling with your fingers nervously. 

All of them - minus Toji - notably relaxed their shoulders, thanking you. 

“We’ve synced up your pokedex with his so you can always locate each other. You have a pokemon capable of flying, yes?” Utahime said, handing you your updated pokedex. You nodded, slipping it into your pocket.

“Perfect. Why don’t you pay him a visit?” Yuta said, smiling angelically at you. It seemed like you didn’t have a choice, not with the way they were all looking expectantly. 

“All right. I’ll forward updates in the coming weeks,” you said, nodding to the rest of them as you turned to leave. 

Before you reached the exit, a soft paw pad touched your shoulder. You turned to face Nanami’s Lucario, which was holding out a can of lemonade in its paws. You reached out to grab the can, smiling at the pokemon.

“For me?” you asked, brows furrowing as the Lucario shook its head.

“For…Gojo?” you asked, and immediately the Lucario smiled and nodded. 

“Alright, I’ll pass it to him. Thank you,” you said, waving as you left. 

Once you were outside the building, you released a sigh. Salamence immediately popped out of his pokeball, letting out a mixture of chuffs and roars and he nudged you with his nose. 

You laughed, placing your hand under his chin and scratching.

“I’m alright buddy, I promise,” you said. You were incredibly bonded to all of your pokemon, but Salamence had a special place in your heart. He has always been your proud protector, ever since you came across him when he was an injured, weak Bagon.

Flipping open the map on your Pokedex, you located Gojo near a seaside town.

“Alright, ready to fly bud?” you asked Salamence. He roared in excitement as you jumped onto his back.

~

The soothing music of the waves against the shore always calmed you. Before you became a gym leader, you often visited the beach to relax and let your water-types splash around. 

You didn’t even need your pokedex to locate the champion, who was garnering attention from every person nearby as he sat at the local cafe. He was practically surrounded by people, the shine of his silvery hair being the only thing singling him out in a crowd so big. 

There was only one trick up your sleeve that was a sure-fire way of getting a crowd’s attention. Grabbing two of your pokeballs, you allowed Kingdra and Gyrrados to come out into the water. 

They both jumped in immediately, happily swimming around as you laughed.

“Alright you two, I need you both to execute plan sparkle,” you said. They voiced their agreement and immediately began performing a dual variation of the move dragon dance in the water, causing major splashes and ripples that began drawing the huge crowd of people away from Gojo and towards them.

You shot them a thumbs-up before making your way over to the champion. It almost pissed you off how nonchalant he looked, leaning back in his chair with his legs stretched out, like there wasn’t anywhere he should be. His famous luxray lay at his feet, curled up next to a plate of what looked like poke puffs. Once he spotted you, he rose to his full stature, positioning himself in front of his trainer in a protective stance. You offered the Luxray a treat from your pocket, and the pokemon gently took it in his mouth before retreating to Gojo’s side.

“Champion Satoru Gojo,” you began, squaring your shoulders. 

He glanced up at you immediately, his cerulean eyes peeking out behind a pair of black sunglasses that sat perched at the end of his nose. His silvery hair was down, brushing against his eyes ever so slightly from the sea breeze. 

A hint of surprise ran across over his features, fast enough that you almost didn’t catch it.

“My name is-”

“I know who you are, dragon prodigy,” Gojo said, calling you by your nickname. 

He knows who I am?

“May I ask why our esteemed champion is here, instead of facing all the challengers you have lined up to defeat you?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He smiled at you, sending a stampede of butterfrees down your body. Gojo wasn’t famed for just his prowess in pokemon battle, no. He was one of the most famous champions for his beauty, especially with that signature smile of his.

“Looking to battle me, are you?” he said, crossing his arms over his head as he tilted his head down to get a good look at you.

“I’d never turn down a battle, but I’m not interested in your title, champion,” you said, a note of disdain in your voice. He raised a brow at you, as if he couldn’t believe a trainer didn’t want to become the coveted title of pokemon champion.

“Oh? Then why have you tracked me down here, miss prodigy,” he asked, reaching down to pet his Luxray. 

“I’ve been tasked with making sure you get back to work. Please return to your post so I can return to my gym,” you said, failing at keeping the bite away from your words.

He stretched his long arms up, humming to himself as he considered your command.

“How about this? If you can retrieve the one thing I’m craving right now, I’ll return to the Pokemon League for today,” he said cheekily.

“How am I supposed to know what you’re cr-”

“You have 5 minutes. Good luck!” 

Bastard.

You trudged back towards the beach, not bothering to waste your time on a fool’s errand. You were already mentally preparing your apology letter to the elite 4.

At least Kingdra and Gyrrados are having fun, you thought to yourself. 

Your two water types continued to dance around in the water, thriving off the attention of all of the onlookers. 

You felt his pokeball rattle against its spot in your pack before Salamence came out, seeming to sense your frustration.

“Can you believe it, Sal? The unbeatable Gojo Satoru is wasting his time here and ignoring his job. Think about how many people look up to him as champion!” you exclaimed, pacing as Salamence nodded his head.

That’s why they say never meet your heroes.

“He asked me to find his craving in 5 minutes. How the hell am I supposed to know what he’s craving? I barely met the man. I just know he likes sweets from all those interviews,” you admitted, shaking your head. 

Salamence suddenly began nudging at the backpack you laid on the ground, tipping it over until its contents began to spill out.

“Hey knock it off bud, are you hungry or something?” you asked, reaching to gather the spilled contents. You paused when you laid eyes on the can of lemonade given to you by Nanami’s Lucario.

“There’s no way,” you mumbled to yourself, holding the can in your hands. 

Worth a shot, I guess, you thought.

“Salamence, return.” Once your dragon was safely tucked back into his pokeball, you strode back to the champion, placing the can of lemonade on the table before him.

Gojo looked at you incredulously, then eyed the lemonade with a look you struggled to pinpoint.

“Satisfied?” you asked, bracing yourself for a rejection.

Instead, the sincere smile gracing his features took you by surprise. The way he picked it up made it seem like it was something precious, and suddenly the champion looked much younger.

“I am,” he said, moving to stand up to his impressive height. He towered over you, forcing you to look up as he stepped into your space. You gulped as you took notice of how stupidly handsome this man was. 

“You win for today. But I’m sure I’ll see you again soon,” he drawled, stunning you with a wink. 

You watched silently as he walked away, his enormous Charizard appearing before him. You gawked at the beautiful pokemon, the dragon-type lover in you urging you to come closer.

He was gone within seconds, leaving you with a lingering funny feeling, especially after seeing that last smile. It was nothing like the smiles you were familiar with - the arrogant smiles he wore after each victory, the charming smiles he put on for each interview. You grew lost in thought as you tried swallowing the urge to make him smile like that again.

What did I get myself into?

~

“Altaria, use peck!” you yelled, watching your pokemon dive toward the challenger’s Machoke. The Machoke stumbled back with the force of the hit, but quickly righted itself. 

“Machoke, use low sweep!” your challenger yelled, his pokemon wasting no time in kicking out its feet against your Altaria. 

Your pokemon dodged skillfully, evading the assault with minimal effort. After a couple more turns, your Altaria finished off the opponent’s pokemon with a final peck.

“And the winner is, our Gym Leader! Better luck next time, trainer Itadori,” your gym assistant said.

The boy named Itadori Yuji sank to his knees dramatically, placing his head in his hands as he yelled out in sorrow. 

“You fought well Itadori,” you said, offering your hand to him. 

“Wait, really?!” he exclaimed, taking your hand. His look of despair was immediately replaced with hope, reminiscent of a puppy.

“Yes, that Machoke of yours is quite strong. My advice is to work a bit more on type matchups,” you said, smiling as he eagerly noted your tips.

“Alright, just you wait! I’ll train even harder and I’ll beat you in no time,” he exclaimed, the fire once again alight in his eyes.

“I look forward to it,” you said genuinely, watching as he ran out of the gym in record time. And you meant it. While he was a little sloppy, he fought bravely, and with raw power you haven’t seen in a while. You could definitely see him challenging Gojo one day.

You reached up to stroke Altaria’s feathers, commending her for another battle well done. 

“Okay, the rest of you can come out now,” you said aloud, smiling as the other 5 pokemon in your party came out of their pokeballs and began cheering for your victory.

Suddenly, Salamence began growling towards the platform where you usually held your battles. A familiar figure sat perched on the steps, smiling down at you like you were old friends.

“Congrats on the win, dragon prodigy,” Gojo said, unaffected by the rising hostility from Salamence.

“Easy bud, it's okay,” you said, patting his side. 

“How long have you been here?” you said, struggling to comprehend how he evaded notice.

“Long enough to see you bullshit that battle with Yuji,” he said, pissing you off with his infuriating smile.

“Excuse me?” you asked, debating on letting Salamence go off on him.

“With your skillset, you’re capable of defeating his pokemon with a single move from each of yours. Yet each of his pokemon lasted longer than they should’ve,” he said meaningfully, his long steps quickly eating up the distance between you two. 

“Why is that?” he asked, suddenly much closer to you, ignoring the snarling from Salamence. 

You looked straight into his blue eyes, intrigued by how they were flicking back and forth between your own, studying you.

“Every time I defeat a challenger that way, it crushes their spirit. I’m still beating them, but I’m giving them a bit more confidence and practice this way,” you answered, turning away from him.

It broke your heart to see the look of utter defeat on each challenger’s face when you actually fought even close enough to your full strength.

Gojo hummed, shaking his head at you.

“You’re setting them up for failure. You’re giving these kids the false hope that their pokemon are strong enough to stand against your own, then when they finally get to the elite 4, they won’t stand a chance,” he said, piercing you with his words.

“Then they won’t have a single hope against me,” he continued coldly, watching for your reaction.

You never thought about it that way, how taking it easy on your challengers could be hurting them more than helping them.

“My advice: don’t hold back. I’d love to watch that beautiful fighting style of yours when you’re serious,” he said lowly, placing something cold in your hands before walking away.

You looked down at your hands quizzically, finding a can of lemonade. 

“It’s the best after a fight!” Gojo yelled over his shoulder before he left.

You stood in silence, mulling over his words over and over again. 

~

You slid your pokedex back into your pocket after confirming you found the right building. 

Pokemon Trainer’s School was written in bold letters on the first sign you saw. 

Your entrance into the building turned a few heads, and you earned a good amount of wide-eyed smiles and points as you searched the building for a certain champion.

“It’s the 8th gym leader!”

“The dragon prodigy is here!”

“Oh my gosh let's go get an autograph!”

You smiled and waved politely at each of them, making your way through each room until you finally spotted Gojo, standing in front of a chalkboard of a small class of students.

His eyes flickered to yours, but he continued talking as if he were expecting you.

“In order for you to defeat dragon-type pokemon, it’s best to use Ice and Fairy-type pokemon. But make sure to study the types of your opponent, and be weary of dual-types,” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him, which he of course ignored.

“Ah, perfect timing. Class, we have a special treat for today! A lesson from the very own dragon gym leader herself!” Gojo announced, gesturing to you. 

You froze as 6 heads turned your way, various levels of shock written across each of their faces.

“A lesson from the gym leader herself, so cool!” the boy you recognized as Itadori yelled, pumping his fist.

You plastered on a polite smile as you walked up to the front towards Gojo, leaning into his space while the students were buzzing with chatter.

“Teaching them how to defeat me, are you? You’re such a dick,” you said quietly, nudging him in the ribs.

“Worried?” he countered, the grin evident in his voice. 

“You wish,” you snapped, trying not to smile. It didn’t bother you, truly. What you were really trying to wrap your head around was why the elite champion was spending his afternoon teaching such a small class of trainers instead of battling his own challengers.

“Perfect, then you don’t mind teaching us a lesson about how to beat dragon types then right? Thank you!” he said, moving aside to sit amongst his students. You flipped him off before any of the kids could see, then focused your attention on the students staring at you expectantly.

“Alright, dragon types 101 then,” you said, launching into a lesson explaining almost everything you knew about your favorite type of pokemon.

The students listened attentively, surprising you with their engagement and the thoughtfulness of their questions. Class flew by in the blink of an eye, and soon enough you were alone in the classroom with Gojo.

He let out a whistle as you sat next to him on top of one of the desks.

“You’re a natural. Ever thought about teaching?” he said.

“Not really. But that was nice actually, those kids are very smart,��� you admitted, smiling at the champion.

From the way his eyes widened ever so slightly, it must have thrown him off, seeing you smile for the first time like that. 

“They are. I’ll bet you the future champion is among them,” he said sincerely, smiling warmly for once. 

It tickled at your chest, the way his different expressions made you feel. You felt greedy to see more sides of him.

“Is that why you’re here, instead of doing your job?” you asked softly, nudging your knee against him.

“I’d much rather be here training these kids to become the best, than have to waste my time battling a bunch of rowdy upstarts who would abuse the champion title,” he said truthfully.

“Is that why you’re avoiding battles? Scared someone will beat you?” you asked curiously, studying the way his long lashes fanned against his cheek when he looked down.

“Nah. More like I don’t want to bother with kids who have zero chance beating me. It’s way more fun to train these kids to become strong enough to beat me. I’d be happy to hand over my title to one of them, someday,” he said, nudging you back.

His words made you pause. 

“That was the most decent thing I’ve ever heard you say,” you said, thoughtfully, admiring the way the light of the late afternoon made his hair seem to glow.

“That's rude as hell,” he said, causing you to burst out in laughter. By the time you finished, you realized he’d been staring at you, making a blush creep up your cheeks.

“What?” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear nervously.

“What do I have to do to make you laugh like that again?” he asked genuinely, unleashing a hoard of butterfrees in your stomach.

You raised your brows, waiting for him to crack a joke or say something stupid again. But he didn’t, he was serious.

“Go back to the Pokemon League and do your job, then I’ll give you an award,” you said, smiling at the look of interest on his face.

“Hmm, since you were so kind to teach my kids a lesson, I’ll go back to work,” he said, rising up to his impressive stature.

“But I expect my reward to be paid in advance,” he said, leaning down so his face was inches away from yours. 

You blushed furiously as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

Clearing your throat, you calmed yourself, plastering the sweetest smile you could muster on your lips.

“Close your eyes then,” you said as silkily as you could, trailing your left hand up his arm. 

The champion froze, eyes widening before he complied and shut them. You fought a giggle before pressing the can of lemonade against his lips, enjoying the way his eyes shot open in surprise. 

He grabbed the can from your hand before you dashed out of the room, giggling at your prank. You heard his hearty laughter echoing across the halls before you left.

~

It was a rare day off you had to yourself. No gym challengers, no chasing Gojo, just you and your Pokemon lounging at the beach. 

The elite 4 sent you a thank you letter, claiming Gojo’s attendance had gone up significantly since you started checking up on him. They told you to take the week off, and you gladly did. There was an odd pang in your chest, though. You had become accustomed to seeing the champion, used to facing the different challenges he gave you that would get him back to work. He was undoubtedly annoying and cocky, yet you dared to find yourself missing him and the way he made you laugh.

Beach. Enjoy the beach, you urged yourself.

Kingdra and Gyrrados were racing each other in the water, joined by a couple of wild water pokemon. Altaria was soaring with a flock of wingulls, showing off her speed. Goodra and Garchomp were playing in the sand, creating what looked like a giant hole. Salamence was content to be laying at your side, sunbathing next to you. 

You broke out of your daze once Altaria started nudging you with her wing. 

“What’s up Tari? Are you already done flying?” you said, sitting up as you pressed your sunglasses to the top of your head. 

You were taken aback to see that the sunny skies had been completely replaced with angry stormclouds, threatening to unleash their rain at any second.

“Oh geez, it’s about to start pouring huh,” you said, quickly gathering up your things. 

You returned the rest of your party to their pokeballs, where they would be safe from the incoming storm.

The rain began coming down heavily, and you dashed out of the sand to take cover under a tree. 

An ear-piercing cry startled you, and you turned to see two kids standing next to rocks by the shore.

“Hey you two! It’s dangerous to be out here when it's storming!” you yelled, walking towards the young kids.

They turned their identical faces towards you, both streaked with tears. 

“Please rescue our Eevee!” one of them cried, clinging to you. 

“She was swimming when the storm started. We can’t find her anywhere!” the other said.

You knelt to be eye-level with them, grabbing one of their hands in each of yours.

“I’ll find her for you, okay? But I need you both to stay hidden. It’s dangerous when it rains, the stronger pokemon tend to come out,” you warned. 

“Salemence!” you yelled, watching as your pokemon appeared before you.

The twins looked at him with a mix of fear and awe as he quickly lifted his wings to shield them from the rain.

“I need you to stay with him okay? He’ll keep you safe while I rescue your Eevee,” you said. They nodded, huddling together against your pokemon.

Salamence immediately roared in protest, undoubtedly refusing to leave your side.

“I need you to protect them Sally, please. I’ll be okay, I promise,” you said, dropping your backpack next to him. You grabbed the mouthpiece that allowed you to breathe underwater, then dove into the sea before you had a chance to chicken out.

The freezing temperature of the water was a shock to your system. You had to rescue this Eevee fast if you wanted to avoid frostbite. You had honed your body to withstand extreme climates as you trained alongside your pokemon, but even you knew you couldn’t last long in this weather.

You swam furiously, dodging every pokemon within your radius. Not all of them would charge at you to battle, but the rain made it practically impossible to distinguish which pokemon was what, and you didn’t want to risk finding out. While treading water, you spotted a blur of brown on a group of rocks.

Swimming closer, you spotted a little Eevee, soaked wet and shivering. The poor thing looked up at you with sad, scared eyes as you hopped out of the water to approach it. 

“It’s okay little one, I’m here to rescue you okay?” you said through chattering teeth. You struggled to feel your fingers, but you forced yourself to take out the pokeball you borrowed from the twins anyways.

“I’ll get you back to your trainer. Eevee, return,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief once the pokemon was safely back into its ball.

Tucking the ball inside a small pouch you carried, you dove back into the water. To your dismay, a school of tentacruels were gathering near the surface of the water, and you knew them to be aggressive. You’d have to dive deeper into the water to avoid being spotted, but you were running out of time before the cold would give incapacitate you.

Mustering all your strength, you swam the distance back to shore, unable to gather the energy to do anything except lean against a rock just beyond the reach of the water. 

Salamence ran to you immediately, the two twins hot on his trail. Once he reached you, he whined and nudged at you, but you were too cold to move. The continued assault of the rain didn’t help the excruciating chill you were feeling.

“S-she’s s-safe,” you bit out, shakily placing Eevee’s pokeball back in the hands of the twins, who cried as they thanked you. 

“S-sal, please g-get them t-to the p-pokemon c-center,” you said, your shivers becoming so violent it was near impossible to talk. 

Salamence whined, refusing to move. He covered all three of you with his wings, and you had no strength left to chide him for ignoring you.

You vaguely heard the twins speaking to you, asking if you were okay. But you could barely register their words with the cold seeping into your bones, numbing your brain and making you feel sleepy. 

“Shit,” you heard from a familiar voice. You felt his hand against your cheek before he released a hiss.

“You’re fucking freezing,” he said, and you cracked your eyes open enough to see the panic racing against his beautiful features. 

“G-gojo?” you chattered, wondering if the hypothermia was getting to your brain and making you see things.

“Salamence, please get the kids to safety,” Gojo asked. You heard Salamence growl in response.

“I promise I will help your trainer, but I can’t do that if I need to help them too. Please,” he said, surprising you with how softly he spoke to your pokemon. 

It must have worked, as you heard the beating of his wings that meant he took flight. Probably to the nearest Pokemon Center to bring the twins to safety. 

“Bear with me for a sec,” Gojo said, lifting you up with one arm under your legs and one across your lower back. 

“I’m f-fucking c-cold,” you said, shaking violently in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I know baby. I’ll get you warm,” he said, breaking out into a sprint. You clung to him as much as you could, releasing your grip once the sound of the rain became muffled. 

He set you down gently against what felt like a wall of rock. The cold bit into your skin, but at least it was dry here. 

Gojo knelt to face you, taking your face in his hands. You leaned your cheek into his warm palms, feeling overwhelmed with relief at seeing his familiar face. 

“I need to get you out of your wet clothes, okay?” he said, not moving until you nodded. Once you did, he made quick work of your outfit, stripping you down until you were completely bare before him. 

Any embarrassment you felt was overshadowed by the determination in his eyes, the hard set to his mouth that you rarely ever caught without a smile. A part of you wished he’d crack a joke or say something stupid to piss you off and lighten the mood, but he didn’t.

Reaching into his pack, he swiped a hand towel and began silently running it across your body, drying you swiftly as you continued to shiver. 

His cerulean eyes shimmered with focus as he stripped off his own clothing, slipping his own shirt over your frame. You sighed with relief as the warm, dry fabric of his shirt soothed your chilled skin, hanging over you like a dress and enveloping you with his clean scent. 

“Better?” he asked, taking your frozen fingers into his hands, and exhaling onto them to warm them up.

You nodded, warmth filling your body with how gently he was treating you. Your eyes traveled town his toned torso, admiring how his body seemed sculpted out of marble.

“But won’t you be c-cold?” you asked, wrapping your arms tightly against yourself.

“Worry about yourself, prodigy. Your lips are blue,” he said, settling himself behind you in only his pants and boots.

He placed his hands onto your hips, lifting you slightly and settling you on his lap. You gasped as the warmth of his front began seeping into your back, his arms cradling you and he continued to wordlessly rub your hands between his. It felt incredibly intimate.

He’s just doing it to save your life, calm down, you thought to yourself.

He paused for a second, reaching his hand to grab something from his pocket.

“Charizard,” he said. Within seconds, the pokemon appeared before your eyes, staring down at you. 

“We need your fire. Please,” Gojo said, jerking his head down towards you.

Charizard nodded, laying down on its stomach, positioning the tip of its tail in front of you and Gojo. The fire at the tip of its tail provided you with immediate relief. 

After a while, the shivering racking your body subsided, and your teeth finally stopped chattering.

“Thank you. Both of you,” you said quietly, breaking the silence. Charizard made a sound that you took as “you’re welcome, I guess,” and Gojo’s arms around you tightened.

“You could’ve died, you know,” Gojo said lowly, his voice tickling the shell of your ear.

“I know,” you answered, squeezing his hands that held yours.

“Why would you put yourself at risk like that?” he asked more calmly than you’d expected, rubbing slow circles into your palms.

“I couldn’t just leave their Eevee out there. It would’ve died,” you said, observing the rain still heavily pouring outside of the cave. There’s not a single doubt in your mind that their Eevee would’ve lost it’s life had you not saved it, either from drowning or from hypothermia.

“Why didn’t you have your pokemon help you? You have water types,” Gojo pressed, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, causing you to shiver.

“I couldn’t risk any of them getting injured. They’re too precious to me,” you said.

Gojo heaved a heavy sigh, the warmth of his exhale tickling across the sensitive skin near your nape.

“You and your bleeding heart,” he said, a mixture of resignment and admiration in his voice.

“Can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same. But I would’ve at least called for help first,” he said, making you laugh.

“Right, how did you know to find me here?” you asked, warm enough to turn in his lap to face him. Your breath caught as you realized just how close he was to you, and you couldn’t help your eyes as they lingered on his perfectly pink lips.

You’d never been close enough to him before to see the little flecks of silver that made his eyes shine. His silvery hair was slightly damp from the rain, a few strands curling around his face that made him seem younger. He was devastatingly beautiful.

He reached out to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.

“I just had a sudden urge to see you. I’ve become so used to seeing your pretty face show up everywhere I go, that I got lonely when you stopped,” he said honestly. You smiled. 

“Imagine my surprise when I get here and you’re freezing to death. You really scared me back there,” he said, his throat bobbing.

He was frightened for you. He saved you. He cared about you.

You leaned forward, gingerly wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug. He returned it immediately, wrapping his hands across your shoulders. His hands traced small circles into your skin, as if he needed to keep touching you to make sure you were still there.

“I’m sorry. Thank you,” you whispered into his ear, rubbing your cheek against the silky skin of his shoulder. 

The two of your relaxed in the silence, the sound of the rain and Charizard’s breathing becoming strangely comforting.

The sound of a familiar roar shook you from your thoughts, as Salamence landed at the front of the cave, a package in his mouth.

“Sally!” you yelled, attempting to get up from Gojo’s lap. His long fingers grasped your hips, tugging you back down to him.

“You’re not warm enough yet. Stay,” he said, earning him a warning growl from Salamence.

Salamence shook off the rain at the entrance of the cave, walking towards you. Him and Charizard exchanged a few snarls, but neither of them actually made any moves towards the other. 

You stuck your arm out, and Salamence stuck his nose against your palm.

“You okay bud? You’re soaked,” you said, feeling the chill from the rain on his skin. He chuffed, depositing the package in his mouth beside you.

Gojo unwrapped it, finding a set of dry clothes and a few towels. The pokemon centers usually prepared these packages for extreme weather, and the twins must have alerted one of the nurses to send him off with one.

“Good job,” Gojo said, reaching out his hand to pat Salemence. To your complete surprise, Salamence accepted his touch, closing his eyes contently as Gojo scratched his chin. 

“Let’s get you changed and head out. I’d rather get you checked out to be safe first, that okay?” Gojo asked, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, checking how warm you were.

You nodded, wishing he would never stop touching you.

~

Luckily, you narrowly avoided hypothermia or frostbite thanks to Gojo. You were able to recover quickly, and before you knew it you were back at your platform inside of your gym.

“How many challengers do we have today?” you asked your gym assistant, feeding Garchomp a pokepuff. 

“Um, one,” he said, eyes darting left to right nervously. 

“Just one?” you questioned, noticing how your assistant looked more anxious than usual. You were used to battling 4-5 challengers a day, making sure to give your pokemon ample rest between. It was unusual for you to only have one battle.

“Yes ma’am. He requested he be the only one,” your assistant said, fiddling with his pokedex.

“Requested? Who the hell does this guy think he is,” you said, glaring at the trembling teenager. It was very bold to request to be the only challenger at a gym - it usually implied that the trainer thought very highly of themselves.

“The champion,” Gojo said, stepping up from the staircase, smirking at you cockily.

You furrowed your brows as you stared at the Champion. He was actually dressed in his fighting attire - a dark blue zip-up with his collar popped up, and matching pants. You had to admit he looked damn good in it, even though he looked great in everything.

“You’re challenging me today?” you asked, placing you hands on your hips as you gawked at him in disbelief. To your dismay, Salamence came barreling up to him, nuzzling his side like they were old friends. 

“Yup,” he said, happily complying with Salamence’s demands for pets. Gojo walked up to you, stopping just a few feet before you. 

“I challenge you, dragon prodigy. If I win, you’ll let me take you out on a date,” he said, flashing an infuriatingly bright smile at you as he winked.

You threw your head back as you shook with laughter. Only he would be extra enough to challenge you to a battle in order to ask you out.

“You’re on, champion,” you said, mirroring his own grin with your own. Salamence roared in excitement, undoubtedly itching to face off with Gojo’s Charizard.

“And don’t you dare hold back on me baby, cuz I sure as hell won’t be holding back on you,” he said, readying the pokeball in his hands.

“I wouldn’t dare. Lets go, Salemence!” you said, watching your pokemon ready his stance in front of you.

But you knew you had already lost - because you were going out with him regardless of the outcome of this battle.

~

Back at the Pokemon League

“Seems like the dragon gym leader succeeded,” Yuta said, smiling at the news article on his pokedex.

“Indeed. Gojo agreed to stop ditching work as long as we invested more funds into training schools,” Nanami said, kicking a ball back and forth with his Lucario.

“Oh, I was talking about her finally dating Gojo. But it was great that she helped us get him back to work,” Yuta said, showing Nanami the article he was looking at.

Newest Dragon-type Gym Leader spotted holding hands with Pokemon Champion Gojo!

The ends of Nanami’s lips curved up as he smiled, shaking his head.

“It’s about time. He hasn’t shut up about her for years,” Nanami said. Yuta’s light laughter filled the room as he handed his Dusclops an oran berry.

“By the way, why did you have Lucario send her that can of lemonade the first time she came here?” Yuta asked.

“Ah, that,” Nanami began, patting Lucario on the head.

“Gojo got that brand every time he won a battle, back when we were teenagers. I figured it would help her make a good first impression,” he said. Yuta laughed once more.

“Looks like it worked.”

~fin~

[nyctophiliq]

✮ ┆A SOUL FINDS YOU. clove (valorant)

clove has been alive for a little while, perks of being immortal they say, but not when finding your one and true love takes this painfully long and under these circumstances.

CONTENT WARNING. SFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT; WRITTEN BEFORE RELEASE, afab/gn-reader, mention of death, bullets, injuries, talks of the immortal life, first kiss, pining, | ~1.1k words

A/N. I SAW CLOVE AND I NEEDED TO GET ON THE TRAIN BEFORE ANYTHING HAPPENED TO THEM, please have this, love this, eat this cuz i love THEM

clove’s mind wandered to a hundred different places as they blankly stared at you, trying to find one good reason to not tell what's been weighing their mind, trying to make up a lie that would make you lose interest in their headspace.

you were never a good lie detector, not unless your fingers were pinching one of their pulse points but even then clove could fool you, tell you that you are so close that they can't help but feel nervous. then after that a sudden flow of confidence rushes through them, ready to risk it all and confess all they have felt for you but just when clove is close enough to finally do it, to kiss you, to murmur those words out loud they stride away.

"if it still bleeds, I will have to stitch it..." you trailed off after finishing wrapping their injured arm up, your finger gliding over the bandages before pulling the torn sleeve of their shirt down.

clove gives you no answer, not even a nod of the head, their eyes avoiding yours as they look down on the white tiles of the infirmary before hopping off of the exam table. there is not a lot on their mind anymore, the same couple of memories flashing in front of them, not fond ones, but rather ones that want them to get a knife and carve themsleves up from head to toe, claw their eyes out. it felt like exploding bullets in their chest, twisting in their heart, back and forth just to make it more painful and not at all speedy.

it seems so real, as you move into clove’s vision in those hallucinations and offer them a hand but you are not at all like the same they knew in this time and moment, but clove know it's you. the name, the hair, the eyes, the voice, and the feel of your skin against theirs... it's all you.

clove takes one quick glance at you, taking in all that you are, nemorizing the way you look at them when nobody else is around to see. it makes their heart swell, a bubble in their throat form and they wish for nothing but for it to suffocate them right then and there. they want to die in your arms, clove wants you to be the last thing they see before never coming back to this life, never having to tell you that them...

clove shouldn't even think about it, that doesn't matter, the past doesn't matter. you are beautiful that's what matters, even the dark circles under your eyes and that stitch on your forehead, nothing can make you seem less than a masterpiece.

realizing they have stared for a minute longer than they should have, cloce whipped their head forward and targeted the sliding door as their way of escape. you shouldn't see them like this, clove promised you before that they would never again let you see them being hurt, and that next time they will be more careful no matter the injury.

"is there anything more i can help you with.." you trailed off as you grabbed their hand, careful to pick the one that wasn't wrapped up, that was strong enough to take the little pull of their joint without causing any pain. "clove?" you sounded scared like if you didn't know if they heard you speak their name they would kill you or smile at you kindly, with all the warmth and adoration they had.

there was no need for clove to think of their answer, but they took a minute, just blankly staring into the space in front of them before turning back. it was a fatal mistake, to let themselves gaze into your stunning eyes and they wanted to cry as they fell in love again, seeing the both of you in it, close to each other, living the perfect life.

"tell me what's going on." your tone pleaded and clove wanted to leave, escape from these four walls that were trapping them in the inevitable fact of being rejected. they did not want to reminisce about their happiest moments which were nothing but fading stars in the dark space of their mind- the happiest moments you didn’t remember.

"i have been waiting all my life for you." clove wanted to say more but they were at a loss for words. how can they tell you that before this life you and they were... that you were theirs just as they were yours? what is the best way to tell it to you without scaring them off, without severing the last string that is attaching them to you?

"i have been searching for you for years, decades now, you wouldn't remember, it was a long time ago, your soul... there is only a slim chance that it remembers." as they tell you whatever normal-sounding answer came to their mind, clove’s hand slips inside their jacket, roaming around its lining, their finger finding a worn piece of paper before pulling out and offering it to you.

then clove goes on, bit by bit, telling you how they have been having dreams again, dreams that they thought they would never again have after that photo was taken more than a hundred years ago. clove haven't seen you since that photo, that night that it was taken you were taken away from them, killed off. clove hopelessly looked for you all around the globe, always going back to that garden in your hometown, hoping that maybe you were still walking those paths under those old trees that you adored so much, that you walked among tall rose bushes wondering why you were so drawn to that scenery.

clove was on the verge of tears as they finished talking about the years theu have spent chasing after you while you stared at the picture, a small chuckle leaving you before embracing them in a warm hug. It was awkward at first, clove just stood there, unmoving like a log, waiting for anything to happen but.. this.

"I know, i do... and i am sorry it took you so long to find me."

you whispered, the hand with the picture between your fingers coming up to caress their cheek before your head pulled away from the crook of their neck and your lips took a hold of theirs.

it felt the same as all those years ago, the same comforting smell of your scents mixing, their plump lips that were like biting into a peach, and the butterflies that fluttered in both of your stomachs.

[acaptainbyanyothername]

Jonas and Phineas made me think about a piece of writing advice I read once—that a character’s flaws are their strengths in the right context, and vice versa (ex. a selfless character can be a pushover, a overthinker character can be a brilliant analyst, etc). Both Jonas and Phineas demonstrated their primary “flaws” they’ve struggled with in the finale fight, but after all the self-understanding they’ve gone through they were finally able to harness them for the right situation to the point where they became assets.

Phineas tapped into his violent anger issues—but the source of the anger this time wasn’t fear, it was love. Look at how similar these two descriptions are:

(S1 E18: A Good Man)

(S3 E19: Balance)

Both times, Phineas is spurred into this rage by Spahr’s presence. In S1E18, it’s a violent action against a nonviolent man to prove his worth, his VALOR to Spahr. But in S3E19, it’s a violent action against a wildly dangerous monster to protect Spahr. Phineas’ initiative still comes from desperation. The determining factor is what he is so desperate for, and that’s what turns his anger from ugly to righteous. This rage of Phineas ends up saving him, making an ordinary man able to go toe to toe with Weepe’s souped-up tearror-puppeteered final form.

Phineas’ monster versus Weepe’s monster. It takes a monster to fight a monster, but this time Phineas is doing it expressly to not let it hurt anyone else. Phineas stays right in control— contrasted against Weepe, nothing but a puppet now.

Then we have Jonas Spahr. Jonas Spahr, whose primary trait has been being a passive observer, the instigator of problems being unable to step in at key moments. Watched Magdalyne Fleit get murdered by Costigan. Watched Phineas beat Sherman to a pulp. Watched the Trust subsequently abandon Phineas. Watched Imelda torture Weepe. He is a character whose largest flaw is doing nothing to the detriment of the people around him.

But in the finale, he takes action! He saves Phineas’ life multiple times (sniping the guy who shot him, diverting a spear from hitting him) until Spahr is rendered physically incapable of acting anymore, and all he can do is watch as Phineas and Lark take down Weepe.

Once again, Phineas tells him that he can handle this. And this time, Spahr BELIEVES him. It’s not like the Ginsberg arrest where he sweeps in at the last minute, this time Spahr fully trusts (hah) Phineas to handle himself. The ex-Prime Consector himself lets someone else—his ADSECLA—take the lead, and Spahr lets himself settle into the watcher he has always been. Spahr, Phineas Thatch’s designated protector, allows Phineas Thatch to protect HIM for once. That’s what makes this time different: now Spahr makes the active CHOICE to watch, listening to someone who loves him and has his best interests in mind. For the first time, this isn’t an involuntary response on his part, it’s an active choice. A success rather than a failure. And, well, he’s not quite just watching, is he?

Nope, Jonas Spahr is DEFENDING. The way he didn’t defend Magdalyne, or Sherman, or Phineas, or Weepe. Spahr has learned to take action, yes, but in this fight he finds value and defense in knowing WHEN to step in and take action versus when to trust others, step back into defensive formation, and just watch. He made the right call this time around.

Phineas Thatch and Jonas Spahr are still the same characters. Phineas’ rage and Spahr’s inaction haven’t left them, they’ve just learned when and how to use them to benefit rather than detriment.