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#and i hate that one of my favorite games of all time had to pay for it.
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2019.
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journish · 1 year
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Today may be the best day of my life. Read more in the tags
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in-class-daydreams · 1 month
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Imagine ex-husband Gojo and your son, Sen, getting into the nastiest fight to date.
"Doman expansion: Infinity Castle!"
You feel yourself floating right side up, then everything shifts and you're suddenly falling upside down. You hit the tatami mats with an "oof!"
Sen's domain is a Japanese-style castle with infinite rooms he can manipulate at will. The domain is infinite and some rooms can lead to nowhere, reminiscent of Satoru's domain. When he and his best friend Naoki overlap their domains, one could find themselves isolated, battling shikigami in various parts of the castle.
Sen and Satoru land on their feet not far from you.
"Yikes," Satoru says. "Pretty crude, if you ask me."
"Good thing I'm not asking!" Sen would say, powering up his next attack. Satoru would move to counter and by now you have a headache and a bruise, and you've had it with the bickering.
"Domain--"
"Enough!" You put your hands together. "Domain expansion: Thousand Heavenly Gates"
The scene shifts and you find yourselves standing on water with a clear sky above you. One thousand torii gates stand tall all around you. Your ex and son feel the rage inside them start to fade away.
Pointing an accusing finger, you scold them, "You two are two of the strongest sorcerers who ever lived. Using your gifts to bicker with each other is some of the most blatant disregard for your stations I've ever seen! I don't want to see another domain used for this kind of stupidity again. Am I clear?"
"Yup."
"Yes, mama."
"Now," you say slowly. "When I drop this domain, you two are going to spend some civil father-son time together. Go get lunch. I don't care where, but on the way back, pick me up an ice cream. Double scoop. Satoru?"
You ex-husband grimaces and has the decency to look chastised. "Yeah, I know what flavor. That swirly one you like."
"Good. Don't come back until you've learned to play nice."
~
Imagine ex-husband Gojo picking you up from girls' night.
Sen goes back to the school dorms at night, so you figured you go out for a few drinks with your friends to catch up. Satoru heard about the event from Shoko and offered to take you home. You agreed and on the way took a detour to your favorite arcade from when you and Satoru were teens.
"Ugh! I swear these things are rigged!" you groan in frustration when the claw game drops the plushie you were aiming for.
"My turn," Satoru says. He scoots you out of the way and focuses hard on the white one-eyed cat you've been trying to get.
In the reflection of the plastic, you notice a slight glow behind Satoru's blindfold.
"No way you're using the six-eyes for this!" You whack his arm playfully, trying to stifle your laughter.
"Don't hate the player, babe, hate the game," he replies. With that, he presses the button and the claw drops. It hits the toy dead center. Closes. Lifts. The two of you hold your breaths.
And drops right into the chute.
"Yes!" you squeal while Satoru retrieves it. His face screws up in a look of contempt.
"Ew, it's even uglier up close."
You snatch it from him and hug it close to your chest. "Don't say that! He didn't mean it, Gege, don't worry."
"You named it already?"
"I named him."
"His face makes me mad for some reason."
"Your face makes me mad for many reasons."
Satoru lightly punches Gege in the face, which leads to you chasing him all the way back to the car, brandishing your new friend like a weapon.
~
Imagine ex-husband Gojo walking you to your front door.
You thank him for the ride and for taking you to that arcade. He doesn't need to know this, but being there with him made you feel like you were seventeen again.
Many things about Satoru remind you of how happy he made you. Even now.
"I'm sorry I acted like that," he says. Your reminiscing means you didn't catch the first part of his apology but you nod like you've been paying attention the whole time. "We're not together any more and I haven't been good about respecting boundaries and I'm sorry."
He blabbers on some more but all you can think about is how this whole apology is exactly the kind of communication you'd been wishing for throughout your marriage.
"So if you're seeing someone now, I get it. I mean, it doesn't matter if I get it or not because it's none of my business but--"
"Oh, shut up, Toru!" Fisting a hand in his shirt, you drag him to your level and kiss him like you’d never get to again.
~
Thanks for reading!
Click [here] for more of Sen being mean to his dad | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]
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shinynewmemories · 3 months
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The exchange between Peeta and Gale in Tigris's basement used to be my least favorite scene in the entire book. I hated how it made Katniss out to be a heartless drone whose only motivation is survival. But I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I'm now convinced I grossly misinterpreted the purpose of the passage the first times I read it. I don't think it's about Gale revealing some sage wisdom about Katniss; I think it's a revelation about how far gone Katniss and Gale's relationship truly is, and how little he understands the way she loves. AND it's about how much better Peeta understands Katniss, even in his half-hijacked state. Let me break it apart a tad to explain what I mean:
“She loves you, you know,” says Peeta. “She as good as told me after they whipped you.”
Peeta is correct on both counts. Katniss DOES love Gale, and in CF, she internally refers back to the whipping as the moment she "chose" Gale over Peeta. Peeta knew it then, and he knows it now.
“Don’t believe it,” Gale answers. “The way she kissed you in the Quarter Quell... well, she never kissed me like that.”
Correct, but it's interesting that Gale refers to THAT moment on the beach as proof that Katniss loves Peeta. Because on one hand, that WAS the first time she felt and displayed sexual desire for anyone. But on the other hand, I would argue that there was lots more evidence for Katniss's love for Peeta; "anyone paying attention" could see it. So why does Gale point to the one time things got hot and heavy between them?
“It was just part of the show,” Peeta tells him, although there’s an edge of doubt in his voice.
Incorrect, but I'll give him half credit for the "edge of doubt" in his voice.
“No, you won her over. Gave up everything for her. Maybe that’s the only way to convince her you love her.” 
Here's where Gale starts talking kinda crazy. Since when has the issue been convincing KATNISS that HE (or Peeta) loved HER? Since the end of book 1, there has never been the slightest doubt in Katniss's mind that Peeta loved her. And she's never doubted Gale's love, although she admits it caught her off guard. Does Gale actually think that if Katniss could just SEE how much he loves her, she'd have no choice but to marry him? Or does he think Katniss is holding back because he hasn't "given up everything" for her? Either way, he paints Katniss as a fundamentally untrusting and self-centered person.
Also, he implies that Katniss needs to be "won over", that she needs to be PERSUADED to love either of them... Yikes. It's like he actually believes Katniss doesn't have the emotional capabilities of falling in love all on her own.
There’s a long pause. “I should have volunteered to take your place in the first Games. Protected her then.”
Incorrect! Over to Peeta for an explanation of why that would have been a Colossally Stupid idea:
“You couldn’t,” says Peeta. “She’d never have forgiven you. You had to take care of her family. They matter more to her than her life.”
DING DING DING DING! I just picture Peeta making a ????????no??? face as Gale says he should have volunteered for him. Like?? Can you IMAGINE? Book 1 Katniss would have been screaming at Gale like "you absolute IDIOT. WHY would you throw your life and the lives of your and/or my family away. And for WHAT? MORON."
But I get it. Gale is saying this out of desperation. Because he can't say "I wish you had died in those games" (although perhaps that is how he's felt once or twice). And to be fair, if Peeta had never been in those games with Katniss, things between them now would be very... different. (shhhhh Gale doesn't have to know about the whole "this would've happened anyway" thing)
“Well, it won’t be an issue much longer. I think it’s unlikely all three of us will be alive at the end of the war. And if we are, I guess it’s Katniss’s problem. Who to choose.” Gale yawns. “We should get some sleep.”
Correct, nothing to object to here.
“Yeah.” I hear Peeta’s handcuffs slide down the support as he settles in. “I wonder how she’ll make up her mind.”
Even though Peeta is more in sync with Katniss, he doesn't presume to know how her romantic side works. Gotta respect that.
“Oh, that I do know.” I can just catch Gale’s last words through the layer of fur. “Katniss will pick whoever she thinks she can’t survive without.”
So I ask: if Gale is shown throughout this exchange to be mostly wrong about Katniss's motivations, desires, and possibly her whole personality, why would we believe he's correct about this?? I think the only conclusion is that he's NOT.
I'll end by adding Katniss's opinion about Gale's assertion:
It’s a horrible thing for Gale to say, for Peeta not to refute. Especially when every emotion I have has been taken and exploited by the Capitol or the rebels.
Katniss is DEEPLY hurt by what Gale said. And I no longer believe it's because it's the truth about HER. I think it's because it's the truth about how Gale sees her, and he sees her in a very hurtful (albeit incorrect) way.
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daenysx · 3 months
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those tiktok videos where couples are ranking types of kisses but it’s you and james 🧚🏻‍♀️✨😭 if you write it, thank you very much for your time ❤️
i hope i got this right, thank you for requesting, angel!! reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, please let me know what you think if you like this guys <33333
james potter x fem!reader, fluff (lots of kissing haha)
it's so easy to get james in the mood for trying a new tiktok ranking trend.
he's been obsessed with them lately, keeps trying different stuff just for fun when he waits for you to join him in bed at night. the funniest part of this for you is that he actually takes them so seriously, he gets visibly disappointed when he puts an option in the wrong place and regrets it later.
"i'm gonna show you something." you say, sitting on bed with your phone in your hand.
"what's that angel?" he asks, pulling you closer. "your hair smells amazing, come closer."
you settle down next to him and open the app on your phone. "we're gonna rank types of kisses."
"oh, that's new? i've never seen it."
"i just saw a couple doing it, thought you'd enjoy." you laugh.
"um-yes, please?" he says, seriously. god, you love him so much.
"okay." you hold the phone in front of you. "so, when a type of kiss appears on the screen, you'll give me that kiss and i'll rank."
james clearly likes the idea, he sits straighter on bed. you look at him before starting, he nods.
'neck kiss' appears on the screen and james gives you a perfect kiss on your neck. you love how he pays attention to your neck all the time so it's a clear favorite.
"this can actually be the first one." you say. "but no, three."
'hand kiss' comes next and james kisses your knuckles. "good?" he asks. "i feel like i'm under pressure."
you laugh. "gonna put it in number six."
next one is 'nose kiss', you cheekily rub your nose on james's. "you don't like this so much." he says.
"um, eight."
"i wonder which one will be ten."
'earlobe kiss' appears. "oh my god." you laugh. james kisses your earlobe and it's too loud. "that's ten."
you regret your decision when 'bite kiss' comes next. "no!" you laugh. "don't bite me."
"sorry, angel." he laughs. he bites your arm softly.
"nine."
you put 'top of the head kiss' on number four. "you could do better than that." you say to james, smiling.
"i definitely could." he agrees. "this is hard."
"okay, 'lip kiss' next, you gotta be quick."
james kisses your lips but he hates how there's not enough time. "gonna put it in two." you say. "but number two and number three are just so close, jamie, i'm not sure."
"that's okay, we're totally doing this every night, you can change that." he whispers against your ear playfully.
"oh, wait." you say. 'forehead kiss' comes next. it's definitely your favorite, james takes an extra second to keep his lips on your skin. "that's number one."
"you're so predictable, sweetheart."
"it's kind of your fault."
you put 'cheek kiss' on number five. it could be number four but you feel a bit distracted by james's lips, you have no strategy left.
"what's number seven, then?" james asks.
'french kiss' comes and you laugh so hard, you drop the phone. "yes!" james says, he laughs with you and change your positions on bed. "we're gonna have to do it, you know."
"yeah? for the game?"
"mm-hmm." he agrees. you lay under him now. "for the game."
the kiss is nice because james stops teasing and kisses you with all his heart. you cup his cheek, pull him closer on top of you. your breathing slows down when your tongues meet, james sucks on your bottom lips deliciously. when you're apart you can't get your thoughts straight.
"that's definitely not number seven." you whisper.
"if only i had this much time to do all the others-" james starts, kisses you again. you spend the next minutes kissing with your eyes closed and bodies entwined. your phone is long forgotten when james takes off your shirt.
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lovelyhan · 2 years
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— favorite poison ⟢
pairing: wonwoo x reader
summary: no strings attached sex is easy. catching feelings for a person you supposedly hate is hard. it's in times like this when wonwoo wishes he can set the dial to his life on easy mode forever, but everyone knows he's nothing if not stubbornly competitive.
word count: 15.5k words
tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, in denial!wonwoo, angst, smut
warnings: mentions of twitter porn, brief discussions of past trauma, slut shaming, mild violence (wonwoo punches someone in the face), graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)
notes: this is the sequel to underlying pretense! thank you so much for waiting so so patiently for this second part! big thank you to @playmetheclassics for proofreading this monster sequel for me >< i wouldn't have done this without you, indi UEUEUE
this is part of the game over series!
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smut tags: implied semi-public sex, game chair sex? jealousy, clothed sex, use of handcuffs, brief spanking, car sex, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, degradation, dirty talk, daddy kink, hard and soft dom wonwoo, creampie, cum eating, aftercare
svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @tommolex
wonwoo taglist: @renjunphile - @acgyu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @pluviophile-xxx - @pretty-trustme
fic taglist: @appachicken - @bekah931215
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part one - part two - part three - part four
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“So when are you introducing me?” 
The buzz of visitors inside the convention hall is already grating enough as it is, but when Mingyu walks over to Wonwoo’s designated booth, all it does is irritate him further.
He doesn’t exactly have to do anything aside from receive gifts from the viewers coming to pay him a visit and take a few photos with them, but Wonwoo is yet to accustom himself to being the center of attraction in front of so many people. So listening to his roommate-slash-best friend asking him stupid questions isn’t helping his case.
“To who? My family?” Wonwoo scoffs. 
Mingyu rolls his eyes. “No. Your girlfriend, genius.”
“What the hell are you even talking about?”
His best friend pouts, and Wonwoo is having a really tough time taking him seriously because Mingyu is wearing one of those hats with bunny ears that flop around if you press the buttons dangling from the front. “You’re always scampering off with some girl from time to time. The others haven’t noticed, but I’m your roommate, hyung.”
Roughly three months have passed since Wonwoo bit the bullet and agreed to be your…fuck buddy? Not-so-friend with benefits? Whatever this arrangement is called, he’s satisfied with getting to let off steam every once in a while, and you don’t seem to have any complaints as long as he fucked you stupid and helped you make filthy content for all the world to see. 
Honest to god, it’s a miracle how shit hasn’t hit the fan yet. But then again, you and Wonwoo were both careful and extremely selective about what gets posted on your secret Twitter porn account and what stays tucked away in the hidden galleries in your phones. That sort of cautiousness is rewarded with having to get away with everything you’re both daring enough to pull off behind the scenes.
Still, it doesn’t change the fact that, outside his sexual relations with you, Twitch streamers everyone_woo and Koyahngi pretty much hate each other’s guts. Even if yours is the best fucking pussy he’s ever had (something you’ll never catch him dead admitting aloud), he’s not about to do a complete one-eighty and treat you any differently in front of his friends and followers. You don’t seem to have any plans on doing that either.
Wonwoo hasn’t once brought you to their shared apartment, so he’s certain that Mingyu is basing all his hunches on pure intuition alone. And just because that intuition turns out to be somewhat right (PSA: you’re not his girlfriend) doesn’t mean Wonwoo has to come clean about his goings-on.
Besides, they’re at a fucking convention. Why is Mingyu trying to hotseat him now? 
“What gave you the impression that I’m ‘scampering off’ with just one girl?” Wonwoo smirks, shaking his head. 
“Whatever you say, elusive gamer who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman that isn’t his mom.”
“Fuck you. You know that’s not true.”
“Well, obviously, you’re smitten with someone, and once I find out who it is, I’m throwing the biggest party in Seoul,” Mingyu says with a huff of indignance coloring his words. He says it like it’s a threat, and Wonwoo makes a face at him. 
“Why?” he asks with a scowl.
“Because I love you, that’s why.” Mingyu then takes off the stupid hat and places it on top of Wonwoo’s head—even putting the work into making sure it fits and everything. “Anyway, I’m heading to Koyahngi’s booth to say hi. You wanna come with, or do you still have a stick up your ass when it comes to hanging out with her?”
Wonwoo has to keep himself from blurting out how he’s not the one with anything up his ass when it comes to you but realizes that if he wants to get Mingyu off his back, he probably shouldn’t make traumatizing allusions to his sex life. 
“I can’t exactly leave my spot until the main program starts. The same goes for you, idiot,” Wonwoo points out. “Who knows how many of your subscribers are looking for you at your booth? Go away and tend to them first.”
Mingyu pouts again, but since his best friend is a guy that’s literally a six-foot wall of muscle, Wonwoo doesn’t feel even an ounce of sympathy for him. “I haven’t even been gone for ten minutes! I just wanted to see how my friends are doing.”
“Then you shouldn’t have set up a booth at all, Gyu.” 
“Hmph. You’re always so stingy, hyung.” Mingyu crosses his arms before turning on his heel. “Anyway, I’m heading over to Koyahngi’s. I heard she’s cosplaying Sage today. Not that you care, though.”
He sounds so genuinely sulky that Wonwoo would’ve laughed a little as Mingyu stomps away to head to your booth. But the mention of you dressing up as a Valorant agent that Wonwoo has started to despise since meeting you makes a couple of memories from earlier this week resurface in his mind. 
Aside from the catgirl gimmick, your cosplays are but another selling point for your streams. You dubbed it the catgirlification of every playable character I like right after Wonwoo railed you two days ago in that same Sage cosplay that Mingyu just mentioned. 
What a fucking weirdo, Wonwoo mused for a second before blowing your back out again, not five minutes later.
About an hour later, the program on the main stage was in full swing, and Wonwoo had just finished doing a little segment with Soonyoung that one of the fans who won a raffle requested for them to do. It was a Pocky Game that got a little too intense because Soonyoung wouldn’t stop fucking squirming, and they nearly kissed in front of the entire audience. Wonwoo doesn’t entirely mind because PR is PR, after all.
The thing he does end up minding, though, comes a little later—after the convention hall settles into a more relaxed atmosphere and everyone is back to booth-hopping. 
Despite what he told Mingyu earlier, Wonwoo took it upon himself to do some wandering around. It’s kind of nice to see other streamers and content creators he’s only ever got to interact with on Discord or their respective streams.
But while he’s munching on a cherry-shaped cookie that Seungcheol is handing out to his visitors, the bane of his existence swoops down on him just when he thought he could finish this entire event in peace.
“Hey, daddy,” you giggle into his ear before swiping the cookie out of his hands, tossing it into your mouth without a second thought. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you today.”
Wonwoo clicks his tongue before shrugging off the arm you draped around his shoulder. “What do you want?”
“Nothing in particular,” you hum before swallowing the food you just stole from him. “But now that I got a taste of Cheol’s cherry cookies, I kinda want some more. Do you know where he is?” 
“I think I saw him flirting with a bunch of cosplayers near the stage.”
Wonwoo startles at the sound of a third party’s voice intruding in your conversation, and from the looks of it, you’re just as startled as he is. Turning around, though, his apprehension ebbs away when he recognizes who it is.
“Johnny,” he says with a small surprised smile before offering his hand for a casual shake. “It’s been a while.”
The famous streamer returns Wonwoo’s gesture gingerly, but he realizes that Johnny’s gaze isn’t trained on him at all. 
“It has been,” he chuckles before turning to you. “I didn’t know you were friends with Wonwoo, doll. How you got someone as cold as he is to warm up to you is beyond me, but at least you’re expanding your network.”
Wonwoo would’ve rolled his eyes. Johnny is just as frank as he remembers. But before Wonwoo can point out that: 1.) you and him are not friends, and 2.) he is not a cold person and therefore has absolutely no need to warm up to anyone, he quickly picks up on the sudden shift in the air. And it’s not his or Johnny’s discomfort he’s sensing right now. 
“Nah, you’ve got the wrong idea,” you respond to Johnny casually, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss how your fists are clenched at your sides. “Wonwoo would rather get banned from Twitch than call me his friend. I just like pissing him off every now and again, is all~ That, and his friends are pretty cool, so I need to tolerate him.”
Johnny laughs before reaching down to ruffle your carefully styled wig. To others, it would’ve looked like a display of casual affection between friends, but Wonwoo is keen enough to notice how you momentarily flinched from the older streamer’s touch. His brows knit together as he attempts to figure out what was going on.
Actually, how do you even know Johnny in the first place?
“Anyway, I’ll be going now,” he laughs before letting one eye drop into a wink. “It’s good to see both of you. Enjoy the rest of the convention, yeah?”
As Johnny exits, you’re a little too quick to fill in the silence he left.
“You’ve gotta take me to Cheol before he runs out of cookies,” you whine, tugging on his arm with a persistent look on his face—not even breathing a word about Johnny, as if it hasn’t been two minutes since he left. “I’m pretty sure I saw him wearing a Pikachu onesie, so he should be easy to—”
Wonwoo immediately cuts you off with a quick yank of your wrist. As he leads you to one of the unoccupied restrooms near the convention hall, your voice drones in annoyingly repetitive succession in his ears while you struggle to free yourself from his grip, but Wonwoo just won’t budge.
Not when he can’t get the sight of you with genuine fear in your gaze when you first laid your eyes on Johnny out of his head.
“Shit,” you whisper hoarsely the moment Wonwoo slams you against the door—a shit-eating grin resting haughtily on your lips as he nudges your thighs apart. “I knew you were possessive, but not this much. Johnny just gave me a few head pats, daddy. It doesn’t mean a thing.”
Yeah. Wonwoo is totally doing this out of some pathetic, alpha male need to stake his claim after another man got his grubby hands on you. Not because he was bothered by that look on your face and can’t think of any other way to help get your mind off it aside from fucking you senseless in a public bathroom.
“Shut up,” he murmurs before forcing your cheek against the cold door. “Now, take off your leggings before I tear a hole in them myself. Can’t mess up your perfect fucking Sage cosplay now, can we?”
You let out a noise caught between a sigh and a whimper as you do as you're told. From three months ago to now, your general opinion on Jeon Wonwoo as a dom has yet to change. Even if he was about to rail you with a fluffy bunny beanie still resting on top of his head.
He’s fucking perfect.
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Right after that unplanned quickie, Wonwoo is at least keen enough to observe his surroundings as both of you discreetly part ways and sneak back into the convention. Since the main events were taking place on the other side of the venue, not a lot of people were milling around, and he thankfully manages to blend into the crowd without rousing everyone’s suspicion. 
Well, almost everyone.
“You’re a pretty shitty actor; you know that?”
Wonwoo doesn’t have to turn around to recognize the smugness in Seungcheol’s tone. The moment he lays his eyes on one of his closest friends—still wearing that silly Pikachu onesie and giving out his cherry cookies—he knows he can’t weasel himself out of this conversation so easily. 
“What do you mean?” Wonwoo says, deciding to play along to gauge what Seungcheol does and doesn’t know.
The older man scoffs. “Come on, Wonwoo-yah. You weren’t being very discreet when you pulled our very good cat girl friend into the restroom. Doesn’t help that you both came out looking dishevelled as fuck. So much for hating each other, huh?” 
Okay. He has nothing left to hide then. Great.
“Were we that obvious?” Wonwoo lowers his voice into a whisper, and the only reason he’s genuinely asking is because Seungcheol isn’t the type to joke around about these kinds of things.
“Only to the eyes of someone who personally knows the both of you,” he snickers. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
Wonwoo’s brows knit together, perplexed, but offers no more smart retorts. His heart is still pounding in his chest at the thought of having been seen with you. Fuck. He isn’t usually this careless. Then and there, he makes a mental note to not let his emotions pull the reins on his decisions next time.
“Thanks, hyung,” is all he tells Seungcheol in return. “I’m heading back. Uh, she was looking for you, by the way. Something about wanting more of your cookies.”
Seungcheol visibly perks up at the news, and Wonwoo has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. What is it with his friends and having some weird soft spot for you? 
As Wonwoo quietly slips back into his booth—greeting a bunch of his fans but not in a sociable mood—he recalls the prickle of heat in his chest when he saw how uncomfortable you were during that short conversation with Johnny. The memory makes his curiosity spike again, and he considers asking you about it the next time you invite him over.
But then he reminds himself that he does not have a soft spot for you unlike his friends. None at all. He’s just being a decent human being for having a modicum of concern because of how you reacted towards someone Wonwoo knows to be completely harmless. 
Aside  from the occasional NSFW spam on Twitter, Johnny’s pretty harmless, right?
“Hyung! Group pic, c’mon!” 
Wonwoo hears Mingyu call out to him several booths over and sighs. He probably shouldn’t put too much thought into something he won’t be able to figure out in the next five minutes anyway.
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The next time Wonwoo comes over to your apartment is to try out some new heart-shaped handcuffs you bought online. You wouldn’t stop gushing about it to him over text, and he has half the mind to just cuff you to the bed and leave because of how annoying you’re being.
But for some reason, the handcuffs lay forgotten on your unmade bed as Wonwoo sits right in front of your set-up—begrudgingly listening to your instructions as he attempts to solve an overworld puzzle in that stupid game you and Soonyoung kept pestering him to play. Genshin Impact, yeah, that’s the one. 
“You have to hit the purple towers with Electro attacks, idiot,” you sigh. “Dendro is for green towers. Hydro is for blue towers. Did you happen to skip kindergarten or something?”
“I thought elemental reactions applied to these, too,” he grumbles. “You’re the one who said that Dendro and Hydro are good with Electro.” 
“Yeah, yeah, keep making excuses, color dunce.”
Normally, Wonwoo wouldn’t have taken the insult lying down, but he stubbornly chooses to solve the puzzle until he’s finally unlocked the hidden desert area you claimed to be ‘too lazy to figure out right away’. A hint of smugness crosses his features as he flashes you a triumphant grin. Wonwoo half-expects you to just roll your eyes and blame his progress on dumb luck or something, but to his surprise, you clap your hands gleefully before placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
“Who’s my smart little gamer, huh?”
“Fuck off.”
It’s perfectly normal for him to hear you challenge his authority outside the bedroom. After all, you’ve made it your life’s mission to push all of Wonwoo’s buttons until he cracks and manhandles you in a way that leaves no room for your brattiness to slip out. Sometimes he likes to think that you rile him up on purpose because the so-called consequences end up rewarding you sexually tenfold instead. Which, Wonwoo thinks, is fucking sick, but from how much he lets you get away with it anyway, he figures that he’s got a few screws loose himself.
“Anyway, how about we check if you’ve got shit luck on gacha games or not,” you announce before nudging your customized gaming chair with your foot—the same one Wonwoo’s currently sitting on—so you can have better access to your mouse and keyboard. “Soonyoung’s luck is abysmal as hell. The only reason he’s got such a spiffy account is because of all those sponsors.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “Are you saying yours is any better?”
“Hey, I’ve got decent luck, mind you,” you huff before clicking a few times, and a new window pulls up on-screen, which Wonwoo recognizes as the wishing page. Soonyoung has shown it to him and the other guys enough times to remember what it looks like.
“Go on, just click the times ten button,” you urge him before tugging your gaming chair back to its original position. “It’s gonna let you wish for a character ten times, basically.”
“I know how gacha games work,” Wonwoo bites back.
“Of course you do,” you coo as he finally does a full summons.
He swears he’s going to edge you until you’re begging and crying later. It’s the least you could do for being such a pain in—
His vengeful thoughts are interrupted when you gasp out loud—eyes glued to the monitor as the shooting star glows like iridescent gold. Wonwoo doesn’t know shit about Genshin, but he’s pretty sure he just pulled a really rare character.
“I just pulled a five-star yesterday.” You scowl, staring at him disbelievingly. “How on earth—”
To your dismay, Wonwoo accidentally clicks on your mouse—ending the entire animation sequence a bit too early. But just when you’re about to berate him for being impatient, your jaw practically falls to the floor when you see all ten of your (technically Wonwoo’s) wish results.
He managed to bring home the featured five-star character five times. Five fucking times. Holy shit?
As you visibly freak out in your seat, bemoaning the fact that this legendary pull happened off-stream, Wonwoo stares at you bizarrely like he always does. You immediately take a screenshot, explaining that the probability of what just happened was several times less likely than you letting him fuck you while you’re livestreaming, but Wonwoo’s mind wanders a little right after that.
So…you would let him fuck you on stream, then? 
Not that it’s something he’s thought about before. Wonwoo likes the privacy your set-up affords him with, and he’s not about to jeopardize that with by committing such an inexplicable act of exhibitionism. But the mere picture it paints in his head is enough to make him swallow thickly. 
One of your stupidly short skirts bunched up to your waist. His hands kneading your breasts as he snaps his hips from behind you. All those pretty noises you make only for him now being heard by your incel-ridden fanbase. He bets they’d even like seeing their beloved Koyahngi get railed on-cam, but the thought of anyone else seeing you in ways only Wonwoo has had the privilege to makes his blood boil.
“Hm? You’ve gone quiet. What’s up?”
His eyes flicker over to your form—knees pressed against your chest underneath the oversized tee you’re wearing. You like to dress comfortably when you’re off-stream, which is understandable because even if you’re just sitting in front of a computer screen, doing so in full cosplay can be a huge hassle. He’s always wondered how you have it in you to put in all that effort for your viewers.
Curiosity lingers in your gaze when he prolongs the silence, but Wonwoo can’t bring himself to answer—mind too preoccupied with a whirlwind of thoughts to articulate any sort of reply. 
He can excuse those horny assholes on Twitter—your main target audience for the filthier content you make on the side. They have no idea who it is they’re really jacking off to anyway. But if some lesser man deigns to even think he deserves to look at you—the real you—while you’re writhing in the throes of pleasure…
You let out an undignified yelp when Wonwoo abruptly pulls you onto his lap, awkwardly straddling him as he stares at you intensely through the lens of his glasses. He can vaguely hear you muttering something about impatient men under your breath, but Wonwoo knows your irritation with him holds little to no weight with how you fold your legs on either side of his hips so his large hands can have better access to your ass.
“This is what you invited me for, isn’t it?” he murmurs, giving your backside a squeeze that has you mewling in response. 
Wonwoo smirks. What a needy little thing.
You gulp. “Y-Yeah, but—”
“Strip.”
“Wonwoo, I’ve gotta post about the wish results!”
He stares at you, unimpressed, and lets his hands fall onto the arm rests of your gaming chair, making you whimper at the loss of his touch. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
The effect of his authoritative tone manifests all too quickly. You bite your lower lip as you tug on the hem of your shirt, lifting it up just to tease a sliver of skin underneath. Wonwoo narrows his eyes, fully cognizant of what you’re trying to do, but it seems that you know better than to piss him off even further. 
Your shirt falls to the floor and Wonwoo has to keep himself from groaning at the sight before him. It’s one thing for you to forego a bra, but panties, too?
“Do you like it, daddy?” 
Knowing you, the question is meant to taunt than anything else, but Wonwoo lets it pass anyway.
It always drives him mad, how subtle you are whenever you want to get a rise out of him. The way you roll your hips into Wonwoo’s has a tantalizing feel to it and he has to grit his teeth to keep himself from snapping. He’ll play your games and drag this on for as long as he has to. Because he’s been with you long enough to know how much you love it when Wonwoo lets you have an illusion of authority for a sliver of a second, only to bully you into submission right after. 
“Fuck,” you whisper the moment the outline of his erection grazes your bare pussy. “Missed your cock so much… It’s been a while since I’ve had you inside me.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “And whose fault is that?”
“How was I supposed to know these conventions were scheduled one after the other?” You pout before grinding deliciously against his cock once again. He can practically feel how wet you are through his sweats and it doesn’t help that each forward motion brings your perky breasts closer to his face.
Wonwoo lets out another sigh as he wraps an arm around your waist before leaning down to latch his lips onto one of your nipples. You quickly jolt in response—not expecting him to indulge you with pleasure so quickly—but his actions spur you on. As his tongue expertly flicks across your sensitive bud, you quickly haul his aching cock out of the confines of his sweats, grinding your slit across his thick girth. 
You’re convinced that this is enough to get you off. Though you’ve memorized how the bulging veins on Wonwoo’s cock feels like inside you, having each ridge graze across your clit prickles the back of your head with newfound pleasure. A growl reverberates in his chest as you expertly slide your pussy along his dick, and you brace your hands on his broad shoulders to anchor yourself.
“Daddy,” you whine. “Can I? Please? Want it so bad.”
The words are punctuated with a pained moan when Wonwoo’s mouth trails higher before biting down on the junction between your neck and shoulders. He doesn’t miss the way your cunt momentarily pulses from his aggression, and he gladly guides your hips as you rub yourself all over his cock.
“My good little whore, always asking permission first,” he chuckles. “Go ahead. Fuck yourself on my cock.”
Wonwoo lifts you off his lap for a moment, earning himself a whine in protest, but when you realize he’s going to take off his sweats, you practically salivate once his strong thighs ease back onto your gaming chair. You don’t bother catching his gaze for an implicit confirmation. You simply sink down on his cock like you’ve been craving for days. 
A choked out moan gets caught in the back of your throat when he fills you to the brim—making your brain go blank for a moment before you remember to start doing as he asked. Wonwoo watches you through an intense, hooded gaze. The only indication that he’s even feeling remotely good is the way his fingers grip the arm rests tighter whenever your walls clench around him every now and again.
Despite the pure, unadulterated bliss that surges through you every time you’re mounted on Wonwoo’s length, it pisses you off how put-together he typically looks like when you’re on top.
You want to see him just as depraved as you are—panting and thrusting into you like he’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you deep enough. But you can never get Wonwoo to handle you the way you want to be handled when you’re riding him like this. As much as you like seeing those sharp eyes watching your every move, the only way he’ll truly fuck you like you deserve is…
Wonwoo’s brows are quick to furrow once you promptly lift yourself off his lap—length slipping out of your pussy as you make your way towards the bed. However, when you spread yourself out on the mattress face down, ass up, it definitely sparks his interest.
And like a cherry on top, you place those heart-shaped handcuffs of yours on the swell of your ass, almost like you’re inviting him to play with you.
The next thing he knows, the worn out threads of his self-control have snapped. He’s behind you not a moment later—hissing through his teeth as he throws his shirt somewhere on the floor. 
You moan when Wonwoo continues grinding his cock against your ass while he yanks both of your wrists behind you. The cold bite of the handcuffs alerts you to what you’ve allowed him to do, and when the lock clicks in place, you stifle a shuddering sigh into the sheets.
Suddenly, his breath is right next to your ear. “Where’s the key for this thing?” 
You feel Wonwoo tug against the fake metal to test for sturdiness, and you feel your chest warm at his discretion. Though he’s, by no means, soft with you, he always takes the time to check if you’re comfortable with what you’re about to do together—no matter how subtle.
“On the nightstand,” you tell him all while pushing your ass back to meet his shallow thrusts. “You can go wild with the cuffs, daddy. They’re high quality for a reason.”
A low, devilish laugh escapes him. 
“Be careful what you wish for, slut.”
He’s merciless with the way he slides his length back into your sopping hole, one hand pushing the back of your head further into the mattress as the other yanks at the chain link of the handcuffs. Each powerful stroke sends you forward on the bed, and his name tumbles in broken syllables from your mouth as he fucks the shape of his cock into you.
“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me,” he growls before snapping his hips with a particularly punishing thrust. “We’ve barely even started and I’ve already fucked you stupid? Are you so hungry for cock that you’ve already forgotten who I am?” 
“I-I’m sorry, daddy!” you whimper as he pounds into you relentlessly. “Just feels s-so fucking good. Love your cock so much!” 
“Yeah?” Wonwoo lets out a patronizing laugh before tugging on the handcuffs again—putting a delicious strain on your arms that amplifies your pleasure in some twisted way. “When you were out there dolling yourself up for conventions, did you think about my cock? Did you want me to fill you with my cum in the restroom again? You really fucking liked it when I did that to your Sage cosplay, didn’t you?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble as tears start to cascade down your cheeks. “Want to get split open on your cock forever, daddy! Want your cum dripping down my thighs when there’s tons of people around—ah!” 
The sharp sound of one of Wonwoo’s palms colliding with the meat of your ass rings in your ears, and it leaves a pleasurable sting sizzling across your flesh. You can’t help the surge of pride that fills you as Wonwoo moans out loud the moment your pussy clenched around him in surprise.
“Dirty fucking cockslut,” he rasps. “You just love it when you’re being filthy for everyone to see.”
For a moment, you’re liberated from the steady burn your arms have been sustaining in such a complex position. Wonwoo surrenders his grip on the handcuffs—letting your bound wrists fall uselessly atop the small of your back. His cock doesn’t quite slip out of you, but you feel him move around from behind. You crane your neck to see what he’s up to, but when you see him angling his phone in a shot that would definitely make for good content to post later, you feel your arousal spark tenfold.
“Now be a good fucking girl for daddy, and let him show everyone how filthy you are.”
The moment the telltale sound of the record button being pressed hits your ears, Wonwoo reclaims his grip on your dainty handcuffs before resuming his ministrations. You let out a long-winded moan as you meet his powerful thrusts, hands instinctively straining against your restraints out of the need to rub your throbbing clit for faster release, but you know it’s a futile effort.
Behind you, Wonwoo is practically losing his mind over the sight of your creamy essence coating his cock with each slide of his hips. You’re extra responsive with the handcuffs as expected. You’ve always had a thing for switching things up in the bedroom, but you’re clenching around him even tighter than usual. 
He tells himself to just film a few seconds of you getting railed with your heart-shaped handcuffs adding more spice into the mix. Then he can truly have his way with you. 
When he’s satisfied, Wonwoo quickly discards his phone on your bed—eyes darting towards your nightstand before he spots what he’s looking for. Another needy whine reverberates in the air when his cock slips out of you so he can walk over to retrieve it. 
Like the good whore you are, you don’t even move an inch. You patiently wait for Wonwoo to return and fill you up again even if the fact that he’s making you wait in the first place makes you want to be a brat. But when you feel the handcuffs fall away from your wrists after he unlocks them, you whip your head around to flash him a startled look. 
Wonwoo tosses your newest toy away with little concern for their well-being before grabbing your face—crushing your lips together in an open-mouthed kiss.
“Mine,” he growls before manhandling you so that you’re laying on your back. “This slutty fucking pussy belongs to me, got that?”
You nod, moaning as he presses his tongue deep into your mouth. You would say yours in return, but you’re blindsided by the way Wonwoo throws your legs over his shoulders—plunging his fat dick back into the velvet heat of your cunt.
As he whispers the filthiest things into your ear, you figure that Wonwoo must have been just as pent up as you are. The consistency of his thrusts is starting to falter—sharp, calculated thrusts turning erratic and sloppy as his orgasm starts to catch up to him. 
With your hands free, you’re able to reach between your thighs in a feeble attempt at finding your clit. However, when Wonwoo catches wind of what you’re trying to do, he slaps your hand away—eyes boring into you with so much angry disappointment, you would’ve cried and begged for his forgiveness right then and there.
“Come on my cock or don’t come at all, whore,” he warns. “I’m already generous enough to have you writhing on my dick, and you can’t even be grateful about that?”
“I am, daddy!” You insist, tears threatening to spill again as you lace your arms around his neck. “You’re hitting me so deep. I’m g-gonna come soon, please—”
“Does my pretty cockslut want me to come inside her?” Wonwoo whispers before pressing your knees against your breasts. “Does she want me to fill her slutty pussy with my cum?”
“I want it, daddy. Want you to fill me up,” you beg as you desperately tug him down for a kiss. 
Normally, Wonwoo would’ve denied you simply because he can, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. But for some reason, he lets himself fall into you—lips latching onto yours like he’s done hundreds of times before. 
It seems like the kiss is what catalyzes your release, and Wonwoo groans into your mouth when he feels your walls clamp down on his cock—desperately milking him for his cum. He isn’t too far behind. All it takes is a few more pistons of his hips before he stills inside you. 
The sensation of being filled with his hot cum makes you pull away from his lips as another long-winded moan sings in his ears. Wonwoo’s shudders from the aftermath of his release, all while slowly fucking his emission deeper into your cunt. From the satisfied purr that escapes you, he thinks you like it just as much as he does.
Wonwoo really didn’t plan on staying over. Really, he didn’t. But the way you tug him back down on the mattress right after he’s finished cleaning you up makes him a bit too hyper-aware of his own aching muscles—both from this morning’s weight training and the several rounds he just shared with you. So he lets you snuggle closer to his clothed chest, the warmth from both of your bodies permeating into each other. He’s never felt more toasty beneath a comforter than he does now.
“This is nice,” you tell him quietly. “I wonder if people will like it if I posted videos of us just cuddling.”
Wonwoo laughs, thumbs absentmindedly caressing the red marks left by your handcuffs. “Doubt it.”
Your silly lo-fi music still plays from your computer's speakers , but neither of you could be assed to get up and turn it off. Wonwoo wouldn’t call himself a professional cuddler—you two have only cuddled a total of three times since you started fucking around, and you often complained about how stiff he always is—but from how comfortably your limbs slot into his, he supposes that he’s doing an okay job.
There’s a hint of intimacy charging the air, one that’s leagues different from the carnal lust that clouds his brain every time he fucks you. His chest twists with each passing moment, and Wonwoo makes the mistake of flickering his eyes on your half-asleep form pressed against him. 
It’s been months since you and him started fooling around, but he knows perfectly well that he isn’t the first to have seen you so vulnerable . While he usually doesn’t give a shit about that, and Wonwoo knows the topic is quite sensitive from the little tells he could pick up on for the past few months…
“Can I ask about your old dom?”
Wonwoo can practically feel you stiffen against his touch, which is one of the main reasons why he hasn’t once tried to broach the topic in the past. Even if you could be a nuisance ninety percent of the time, he isn’t a fan of making people uncomfortable on purpose. He’s about to follow his inquiry up with the reassurance that it isn’t a big deal, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but—
You squirm away from his embrace, and Wonwoo lets you, albeit hesitantly. His shoulders relax when he realizes you’re just repositioning yourself so that you can face him directly, chewing the inside of your cheek like you don’t have the words just yet. 
“He was…mean,” you whisper, forcing Wonwoo to wrap his arms around you once again. “Even meaner than you are. You’re at least a semi-decent person outside the domspace, but that guy? Piece of shit for real.”
Wonwoo nods. “But you don’t really care about that, do you?”
“Yeah. I can look past him being the meanest dom on the face of the earth. As long as he could satisfy me sexually, then we’re all good.”
“So…what made you part ways?”
Your gaze drifts to Wonwoo for a moment. He looks a lot different when his face isn’t bathed in the deep red of your mood lights. His hair is tousled, eyes squinting a little even if you aren’t that far away from him. And the earnest tone in his voice as he posits the question is something you could get used to hearing every now and again.
“Well, I don’t really do relationships, you know that right?” you say and Wonwoo nods. “My old dom didn’t get that though. He was really possessive of me even outside of our sessions together. It got to a point where he would get really…physical with me just to get the point across.”
Silence dips between the both of you—white noise ringing so loud in Wonwoo’s head, he can barely hear your shitty lo-fi playlist anymore. He’s always had a thing for making you cry during sex, but that’s all it is—some dacryphilia play to scratch both of your kinks. No matter how infuriating you are, he can’t imagine himself ever hurting you outside a pleasurable, sexual context.
Then he remembers the first time you invited him over to film some clips. How you stared at him as he cleaned you up like you aren’t used to the aftercare. Like you aren’t used to being treated delicately.
Is that because of your old shitty dom?
“He’s a fucking asshole,” Wonwoo grumbles before pressing your body closer to his. 
You chuckle. “He is. I’m glad I got out of that before things got even uglier.”
“How’d you even get rid of him?”
“Eh, it’s nothing a little blackmail won’t fix.”
Wonwoo’s brow arches at your response. You’re such an evil little minx, it’s actually admirable.
A little later, the conversation about your previous sexual partners fades away, and you’re back to tracing weird shapes on Wonwoo’s chest for him to guess. He spends half the time convincing you to just shut up and go to sleep, but he finds himself indulging you in your silly whims regardless. 
“Wonwoo, you’re a pretty great fuck buddy, you know that?”
He hums. “Why is that?”
“‘Cause you never go overboard with the stuff you do to me,” you say, eyes drifting away from his as you list off the reasons off your fingers. “You always let me annoy the shit out of you without getting pissed for real. You’re good at keeping secrets, too. Oh, and I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type, which is exactly my type.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “If I become someone that isn’t your type, would that get you off my back?”
“I doubt that would ever happen,” you giggle.
For some reason, part of him wishes for the same thing.
But you don’t have to know about that.
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On the morning of Soonyoung’s birthday, Wonwoo wakes up irritated.
He had a dream about you—one where you stopped being fuck buddies with him because you wanted to try things out again with your old dom. Someone that Wonwoo doesn’t even know, not even by name. Yet the rage that dream-Wonwoo felt upon seeing you hand-in-hand with some faceless punk as you both left him in the dust is almost too lifelike to ignore. 
So, he does something stupid.
He pulls up his phone—ignoring every message asking if he’s going to show up for Soonyoung’s party later—and pulls up his Twitter app. He doesn’t spend much time there, even if he is co-managing your super secret porn account. In fact, he eventually muted the notifs for that too, when the appeal of having your illicit acts shared to the unknowing public finally fizzled out. 
But he doesn’t log in to check the notifications you’ve amassed, as well as the pathetic DMs asking where your location was so they could fly in to fuck you themselves. No, Wonwoo scrolls past all the content you’ve made with him to unearth things best left in the past.
Like the videos he films with his own camera, the ones you made with your old dom are more than discreet—despite the hyper-possessive tendencies you’ve mentioned. There’s absolutely nothing to be gleaned about his identity, and Wonwoo is left wondering how stupid he’s being for wanting to know who it was that made you feel good before he came into the picture.
Why does it matter anyway, right? 
Even if you did hypothetically leave him to fuck around with your old shitty dom—or anyone else for the matter—why would it matter to Wonwoo? The two of you aren’t even friends. And if you had some other person to bother, that would mean less shit for him to deal with.
But why does the thought of letting someone else have you fill him with so much vitriol that Wonwoo nearly melts his cereal bowl with his glare alone when he comes out for breakfast?
“Hyung,” Mingyu calls out from the seat adjacent to his, rightfully concerned. “You okay? I can always grab a new brand if you hate this one so much.”
The taut muscles on his face soften at the sulking tone to Mingyu’s voice. “Oh, uh. Sorry. It’s not that. I was just thinking.”
“Of your girlfriend?”
“...Of how I’m going to break your PS5 if you don’t cut it out with that girlfriend shit.”
Mingyu whines. “Wonwoo-hyung, I paid good money for that! But fine, I won’t pester you anymore if you’re so intent on keeping her a secret from the world.”
A secret… That’s right. 
What you and Wonwoo have is something that not even his best friend is completely aware of. Sure, Mingyu’s roommate-senses have been tingling for weeks, but Wonwoo knows that he will never really know the full story unless either you or Wonwoo let him in on the secret. 
Which will probably never happen if the two of you want to keep your careers, of course.
“Anyway, the rest of the guys are asking if you’re coming to Soonyoung’s party,” Mingyu says in an attempt to divert the conversation, thank god. “Everyone else has already replied except for you.”
“Who else is invited again?”
“Uh, our usual group, Koyahngi, and I dunno, a bunch of other streamers we know. I think some of Soonyoung’s high school friends are gonna show up as a surprise, though, but that’s just what Jihoon told me.”
Wonwoo considers the information at hand for a moment. 
He doesn’t mind mingling with fellow streamers and probably some of Soonyoung’s other friends, but the last time he’s seen you specifically is the day he bit the bullet and asked about your old dom. A conversation which ended on a pretty agreeable note despite the obvious unease on your face when Wonwoo opened the topic.
The fact that you haven’t texted him since is a little worrisome, too. It’s been about two weeks since that happened, and Wonwoo is beginning to wonder if he unknowingly hit a nerve and this is your way of sending him a message. 
He would’ve taken the initiative and checked up on you during your first week of radio silence, but when he catches you doing pretty fine on your latest streams and when he gets roped into some partnership talks with an entertainment agency that wants to recruit him, Wonwoo decides to put it off for later. 
Besides, the two of you are grown adults—so are the rest of your thirsty audience on Twitter. They can survive two weeks without content.
“Yeah, I’ll come,” he tells Mingyu about five minutes later when he’s already putting away the dishes. “What time are we leaving?”
“Uh, the party starts at seven. Do we go early or fashionably late?”
“Early.”
“Of course. Gotta put the senior citizen to bed early.”
“Mingyu?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
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🐈‍⬛: Are you coming to Soonyoung’s party tonight?
🐈‍: yea, i just need to sort some stuff out
🐈‍⬛: Wow
🐈‍: ?
🐈‍⬛: I just didn’t think you’d reply
🐈‍: is daddy gonna punish me for ignoring him for so long &lt;3
🐈‍⬛: I’m being serious
🐈‍: well, so am i
🐈‍: anyway, tell soonie i’ll be there soon
🐈‍: i’m just talking to someone
🐈‍⬛: Okay
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Wonwoo has been hanging out with his friends long enough to know that only a select few can really handle their liquor. It doesn’t help that today’s celebrant is the worst lightweight of them all. It’s barely thirty minutes past eight, and Soonyoung is already screaming profanities on one of the tables—using an unopened bottle of absinthe that Seungcheol gifted him with as a makeshift microphone as he belts out trashy lyrics from songs Wonwoo vaguely recognizes.
Mingyu films the entire thing on his phone, stifling his laughter while sipping on his own drink. Wonwoo can only roll his eyes at his best friend’s tolerant behavior.
At around nine, Jeonghan and Joshua arrive at the scene with a tiger-themed cake in tow, and half the friend group has to physically restrain Soonyoung just so the birthday boy could blow out his fucking candles properly. After criticizing the baker’s work (“The eyes are uneven! Tiger eyes are perfectly symmetrical!), Jeonghan rounds up the other guests to sing a loud Happy Birthday just to get Soonyoung to finally shut up. When the song comes to a close, though, Seokmin giggles a little too conspiratorially before dunking Soonyoung’s face into the cake.
It’s gatherings like this—no matter how rowdy and unacceptably loud—that make Wonwoo stick around. He might not look the part, but he loves it when he sees his friends be themselves outside of their streamer personas. It’s like high school and college all over again. 
But when the clock on his phone reads ten-thirty, and he realizes you’re still not at the venue, Wonwoo considers shooting you another text asking where you were. It’s an idea he quickly shoots down the next second because first of all, you’re not even friends. It’d be weird if he just asked out of nowhere. 
He supposes he could use wanting a quick fuck as an excuse to get some intel on your whereabouts. But the thought of lying to you doesn’t sit right with Wonwoo for some goddamn reason. 
When Mingyu offers him a drink, he half-considers taking it just to get his mind off you. He’s pretty sure his roommate has picked up on his distracted behavior, and is only attempting to soothe him somewhat with some beer. But Wonwoo reminds him that he’s one of tonight’s designated drivers and decides to pass.
Everyone in attendance is in the middle of a game of truth or dare when Wonwoo’s phone buzzes in his jacket pocket. He’s quick to excuse himself when he sees who it’s from and what message was left for him to read.
🐈‍: help me. please.
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Thankfully, you had the foresight to send him your location after shooting him that cryptic text, and Wonwoo is glad to find that you’re just a few blocks away. Still, he decides to take his car since the weather decided to be a bitch, sending in an unexpected downpour in the middle of summer.
He pulls over in front of a closed bookshop once he’s sure you’re in the area—looking around for any signs of you. The streets are deserted, and Wonwoo is trying to figure out what could have possibly brought you to this place at this hour. Why didn’t you just head straight to Soonyoung’s party? 
And why did you call him for help?
Through the rain and the poor lighting, he finally spots you—standing underneath the canopy of a waiting shed next to a man whose back is turned to Wonwoo.
He doesn’t think twice. He just gets out of his car and runs in the rain—chest warming at the sight of your downcast face perking up at the sight of him. Wonwoo would’ve let himself be glad that you're safe and sound, if only your current company didn’t turn around and reveal his identity.
From the looks of it, you seemed to be having a pretty heated conversation before his arrival. Johnny was obviously annoyed when he turned to look at him, but the expression fell away when he realized the newcomer was Wonwoo. 
However, a sinister smile takes its place not a few seconds later.
“Huh, no wonder you were so quick to replace me, doll,” Johnny laughs insincerely, sharp eyes trained on Wonwoo as he stares the younger streamer up and down. “It’s him, huh?”
“This has nothing to fucking do with you, Johnny,” you grit out, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss the way your voice nearly cracks. “Can you just leave me alone? You don’t need me when you’ve got a bunch of other girls who want to suck your dick, right?”
Wonwoo observes the exchange with a stoic face that doesn’t betray his surprise. It doesn’t take a lot to realize at that moment that Johnny is most definitely the asshole dom whose face he wanted to pummel into the ground when he found out what he did to you. But the things he does know about Johnny and the things he’s just now finding out makes a storm brew inside of his head—unable to separate what’s fact from fiction.
Johnny’s a nice guy. Wonwoo knows this very well. But then again, he’s also the same person who blatantly likes Twitter porn on his official account, so where does that leave him?
“I guess you’re right, but your pussy’s a perfect fit,” Johnny chuckles. “Can’t help but want to hit that again and again, right Wonwoo?”
He stares down at him hard. “Don’t talk about her like she’s just some thing you can play with.”
“Oh? No wonder those new vids of yours have been extra livelier. Your new boytoy is a big old softie, huh?” Another mirthless laugh echoes in the empty streets, and Wonwoo feels his own body heat up with rage amidst the cold rain. “I never would’ve imagined it was Wonwoo, of all people, though. That really is a magic pussy you’ve got there, doll. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found out you’re fucking his twelve other friends, too. Fucking whore—”
Before Johnny could get another word out, Wonwoo’s fist had already collided with the side of his face—knocking the older man to the ground with a disgruntled sound. He can vaguely hear you calling his name in shock, pulling him back with your little hands as Wonwoo stares down at a person he used to look up to.
“Call her that one more fucking time,” he rasps—eyes alight with anger, “and I’ll make sure it’s not just a busted eye you’re leaving with tonight.”
“Wonwoo,” you plead, tugging on his arm. “Please. He’s not worth it. Let’s just go.” 
Johnny still has it in him to bark out another laugh, spitting out some blood from his mouth and onto the pavement. “Running away again, princess? That’s what you’ve always been good at anyway.”
When Wonwoo moves to lunge at him again, you lace your fingers with his. For some reason, it makes him falter. Wonwoo stares at where your hands are adjoined, then looks into your eyes—glistening with tears as you beg him to stop.
Sending Johnny one last threatening glare, Wonwoo tightens his grip on your delicate fingers before leading you back to his car.
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Wonwoo doesn’t return to the party.
Instead, he shoots Mingyu a quick ‘something came up’ text, and that he won’t be able to play designated driver for the night. His best friend responds in kind, saying he should have fun with his girlfriend and just take a cab home. On normal days, he would’ve given Mingyu another unsolicited threat, but tonight, he’s focused on something else.
You’ve been quiet the entire time Wonwoo has been driving, hands placed on top of your lap as you gazed at the lights flashing by in a blur of colors and raindrops pouring down the window. He doesn’t have a particular destination in mind, but he figures that it’ll do you some good to have some time to mull over everything that happened. 
But when the silence gets too overbearing even for him, Wonwoo asks:
“What do you usually do when you’re upset?”
You turn your head slowly, red eyes shining even in the dark. Wiping the tears away, you say, “Buy a tub of ice cream and stargaze at the rooftop of my apartment building. That’s kinda impossible right now, though, since…”
Yeah. It was still raining. Fuck.
“Well,” Wonwoo starts, “we can still get some ice cream if you’re up for it. I know a supermarket that’s open twenty four-seven.” 
You don’t reply, simply letting your gaze drift back to the window, and Wonwoo takes that as an affirmative. 
The two of you sit in the silence so deafening, it unsettles even Wonwoo the silence connoisseur himself. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do in this kind of situation. Should he offer you some verbal comfort? Should he promise to deal with Johnny if he comes after you again?
In the end, Wonwoo chooses to preserve the quiet—thinking it’s what you need most right now.
He pulls into the supermarket’s parking lot in ten minutes. He’s about to tell you that he won’t take long—glancing around at the backseat to check if Mingyu left his umbrella there. But before he can even get a word out, you’ve already leaned across the center console, grabbing Wonwoo’s face with both hands before smashing your lips together. 
Wonwoo grunts, grabbing your shoulders as he gently pries you off him. “Hey—”
You don’t listen. Instead, you climb on top of his lap despite the limited space. He knows that the steering wheel digging into your back can’t be comfortable at all, so despite himself, Wonwoo pushes the driver’s seat all the way back. But then you choose to do something he doesn’t expect at all.
With the newfound legroom, you sink to the floor—puffy eyes looking up at him as you work on the buckle of his belt. Wonwoo gives you a stare that’s two parts disapproving and one part curious. In the end, he does nothing about it when you undo his jeans and take his cock in the warmth of your hand.
When it comes to you, it doesn’t take a lot to get him hard. The need to please shines in your eyes as you give him possibly one of the best handjobs in his life. You’re not even uttering a single sound, but your titillating gaze sends all the blood in his system straight to his dick.
Your mouth is on him the next thing he knows—giving his fat head some experimental kitten licks that make him want to shove your head down to the base of his cock. But he won’t. Wonwoo isn’t Johnny. He wouldn’t dare to be rough with you after what just happened, despite your apparent eagerness to give him head right here, of all places. 
The mere reminder of that asshole has him buzzing with rage again, but whatever frustration is left over gets quickly replaced with toe-curling pleasure when you take his heavy length in the heat of your mouth. Your tongue lathers the underside of his shaft as every inch bypasses your plump lips. What your mouth can’t reach, you compensate with your fingers—fondling both his balls and the base of his cock with tender yet salacious touches.
He has to tell you to knock it off. This probably isn’t how you’re supposed to deal with…whatever shit you have going on with Johnny. But your mouth feels like fucking heaven, and Wonwoo isn’t a good enough person to deny himself the pleasure.
The rain continues to pour outside, but the sound of it is eclipsed by the wet noise of you bobbing up and down his engorged cock. As Wonwoo’s orgasm slowly builds itself from the ground up, his large hand gathers your hair in a single clump—tugging hard enough to have you moaning around his length.
“Good, good girl,” he rasps before thrusting his hips into your mouth. 
 When he finally comes, you swallow every drop he pours down your throat. Even when your eyes start to sting with tears, you take it all while Wonwoo holds your head in place. 
As his high starts to ebb away, Wonwoo realizes this is probably the most breathless he’s been rendered since he started fucking around with you. He could probably blame that on the shitty car ventilation, but there’s just something so fucking enticing about seeing you wedged beneath him on the floor—face streaked with tears with remnants of his release still sticking on your lips.
Wordlessly, you peel yourself away as you scramble back to the passenger seat, making a nonchalant comment about how much you’ve imagined sucking him off in his car, but Wonwoo doesn’t quite process it all.
When he notices that the glass of his car windows have all but fogged up, he leans forward—one hand raised as he starts drawing shapes into the moisture. You stare at him with a bewildered look, wondering what on earth he was up to. But the moment you realize what he’s drawing, your expression twists from confusion to disbelief.
Stars. Wonwoo was drawing stars on his fucking windshield with his entire dick still out and everything. He doesn’t even look fazed while he’s doing it.
“You can’t be serious,” you say.
He shrugs and grabs some tissues from the glove compartment to clean up before putting himself away—handing it to you right after. 
He’s so fucking thoughtful; it still gives you whiplash.
“You said you wanted to see the stars, right?” Wonwoo shrugs. “This is the best I can give you right now, so.”
You stare at him for a couple of seconds longer—like you can’t believe a man like Jeon Wonwoo really exists on this earth. Then, you laugh. It’s one of those obnoxious ones that typically have Wonwoo rolling his eyes at you, but it sounds like music to his ears after seeing you cry your eyes out .
Wonwoo does manage to get enough ice cream for the two of you to feast on back in your apartment as you both watch this food show that Mingyu keeps recommending to him. The tricky part is trying to get your hands off him the entire time. 
For someone who went through something pretty traumatic earlier in the evening, you’re fucking insatiable. But Wonwoo’s resolve can no longer be shaken, and the dirtiest thing that you end up doing in your bedroom is giving him a kiss on the cheek before bidding him good night.
It’s only when you’re dozing softly against his chest—having trusted him enough to fall asleep in his company—that Wonwoo realizes something that might change the trajectory of your set-up for good.
He’s in love. 
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The next morning, Mingyu greets Wonwoo at the apartment like a mother would her troublemaking son who got caught sneaking home in the middle of the night.
“It’s Koyahngi, isn’t it?” he says point-blank. 
Wonwoo doesn’t exactly have the energy to play some mental gymnastics with Mingyu right now. The moment it dawned on him how he actually felt about you, he couldn’t get a wink of sleep. Thoughts about what he should do have kept him up all night. Should he come clean about it? Should he just leave it be?
But when he remembers what you said about him during that one visit of his…
I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type.
That pretty much leaves him with one option, which is the one he’s been meaning to take all along. The idea of having to confess his love for you like some sort of prepubescent high schooler honestly makes him want to vomit. But at the same time, resorting to…concealing his feelings from plain sight doesn’t sit well with him either.
But no matter what he feels about either option, Wonwoo knows that keeping his mouth shut about it is the best option. Especially when you’re still emotionally high-strung from that encounter with Johnny. 
“So what if it is?” Wonwoo grumbles, plopping himself onto the couch right next to Mingyu.
“For what it’s worth, I’ve always thought the two of you were a good match,” his roommate offers, and Wonwoo appreciates his pep-talk. Really, he does. But he’s pep-talking him for the wrong fucking outcome. “You should totally go for it if you haven’t already.”
You don’t do relationships, and neither does Wonwoo. He knows if he uses this line of reasoning as a rebuttal to Mingyu’s words, his best friend will stubbornly insist that he get the girl anyways. He’s always been the one-track-mind type that gives it his all once he’s finally set on something. 
But Wonwoo is nothing like his enthusiastic roommate. He’s cold, and sharp-tongued, and everything you probably wouldn’t want in a boyfriend. All he’s good for is a quick fuck every now and again, and he’s not about to start deluding himself that he can be anything more to you.
(Yet part of him still hopes anyway.) 
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🐈‍: are u free today
🐈‍⬛: Be there in thirty
🐈‍: whoa i haven’t even told you what i had planned
🐈‍: what if i actually wanted to take you on a date to the park huh
🐈‍⬛: Did you?
🐈‍: no, my new raiden shogun cosplay set just arrived
🐈‍: and we kinda have this unspoken tradition 
🐈‍: if you know what i mean
🐈‍⬛: You want me to fuck you in it?
🐈‍: always <3
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There’s something off when Wonwoo shows up at your doorstep.
He knows you easily pick up on it from the way your eyes narrow slightly when you scrutinize him. From what he can tell, he’s acting as aloof as he always does, yet you still ask him, “You okay?” as if he’s doing something different.
“Yeah,” he mumbles before quietly closing the door behind him.
As you lead him to your room, you tell him that you haven’t put on your cosplay yet because the stockings that came with your order were itchy as fuck, and how you’re thinking of having them replaced one of these days. Wonwoo hums in reply, eyes trained on the takeout packaging that litters your kitchen counter. He has half the mind to tell you to start eating healthily, but reminds himself that’s the sort of thing boyfriends do—not fuck buddies.
Your dainty lo-fi playlist is streaming in your room like always, and when you see the assorted fabrics of your cosplay crumpled on your desk, you heave a tired sigh.
“I’m too lazy to put it on now,” you whine. “Can you just fuck me normally?”
He doesn’t give you a verbal response. Instead, Wonwoo pulls you by the hip, pressing you impossibly close to him as he rests his forehead on top of yours. You startle a little at his abruptness, but your body language betrays no sign of resistance. If anything, you lean more into his touch as the seconds tick past.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you whisper like you’re afraid of shattering something delicate. “You seem out of it.”
“I’m fine,” he insists, and before you can say anything else in response, he slots your mouths together in a slow, sensual kiss. 
Wonwoo likes to get things done hard and fast. He’s a man who sticks to his schedules for the day if he can help it, so he typically treats these sessions with you as timed encounters. More often than not, he’ll be out of your door in two hours or less so he can dedicate his time to working out or planning for new content.
Now, it’s a little different. He takes his sweet time with you—mouths moving in voluptuous unison as if he’s finally dedicating each second to truly memorize the curve of your lips against his. You moan into the kiss, fingers threading through his dark hair before he pulls away from you with a breathless sigh. 
Wonwoo stares at you like you’re the center of the universe. He can only hope you see the same thing when you stare back.
You know when Wonwoo takes his glasses off, he means business. One moment he’s placing them on top of your nightstand, and the next, you’re suddenly pinned beneath him on your bed—getting your lips devoured by the insatiable man on top of you. 
There’s something so innately alluring to his kisses that you haven’t felt during the last time you fucked Wonwoo in this same room. Those were less kisses and more of a clash of teeth and tongue. Now, he stokes a kind of desire that almost scares you to have. You’re afraid if you indulge yourself too much in this version of him, you’ll get addicted. 
The two of you are supposed to be filming today. Yet you seem to have forgotten all about your plans as you lose yourselves in the heat of each other’s bodies. But despite the mellow pace that Wonwoo has established, the desperation still lingers in his touch. 
He flips the both of you over so that you’re sitting right on top of him, gasping out loud as you steady yourself across his hips. Wonwoo smiles lazily, drawing circles along the curve of your thigh before teasing the waistband of your shorts with a single finger. You whimper as you grind down against his hardening length, still confused about how soft he’s being with you today, but no complaints are going to be filed.
“You want my cock that badly?” he asks, and you nod a bit too enthusiastically. “Then work for it.”
You bite your lip, not bothering to remove either of your clothes when you haul out Wonwoo’s length from the fabric of his sweats. Just a few pumps from your small fingers has him hot and heavy in your hand—making your mouth water with anticipation. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of taking him inside your tight little pussy.
Nudging the hem of both your shorts and panties to the side, you quietly sink down on his engorged cock with a strained whimper. The lack of prep definitely isn’t doing you any favors, but the raw stretch of him so deep inside your walls sends a rush of pleasure straight to your skull. In no time, you’re bouncing on top of his lap like a bitch in heat—mind hazy with the feeling of Wonwoo hitting you even deeper than usual. 
You sort of expected him to amp up the dirty talk. You don’t always get to ride him like this, yet Wonwoo stays perfectly quiet as he watches you thrash and moan above him. His hands rest comfortably at the curve of your waist, guiding your movements, all while offering up a few thrusts of his own.
It feels so fucking good whenever he hits that perfect spot inside you, but the pleasure pulls the wool over your eyes because you’re completely oblivious to the way Wonwoo is looking at you right now.
He was a fool to think that if he just had his way with you like he usually does, those delusions of his would go away naturally. That it would serve as an anchor to the reality of your relationship with him. But when Wonwoo has you chasing your high right before him—so devastatingly beautiful in the lowlights of your bedroom—he realizes he’s fucked.
All this does is make him fall even deeper in love with you. 
“S-So close,” you whimper, grinding down on his cock with each downward thrust. “Wonwoo, please, please. Fuck—!” 
He quickly shoots up from his initial position, lying down, fingers tangled in your hair as he forces your head close to meld your lips together once again. Wonwoo fucks up into you relentlessly, his breathing erratic against your mouth, all while he tries his best to keep all of his secrets from coming out of his own lips. 
You’re the most infuriating person he knows, but he can’t help but look after you anyways. He claims to hate you, but the way he’s rolling his hips into yours would tell a different story. You drive him insane each waking day, yet you have no clue of the extent of it.
He would never admit it—not in a million, billion years—but you’re Wonwoo’s favorite poison, and he’d rather watch himself burn from the inside out than find an antidote. 
He hates having to hide you away from the world like this. Hates treating you like some sort of dirty little secret. He’s allowed to share you with the world through anonymous pornography, but not as a bonafide lover, and it drives him up a fucking wall every time he thinks about it. 
But the thing about Wonwoo and sex is that once he finally gets to fuck the frustration out of his system, his clarity of mind is a bit too quick to settle. As he helps clean you up in the bathroom, he tells himself that it’s simply impossible for someone like you to want anything more with someone like him. After all, you said it yourself.
You don’t do relationships. 
Who the hell is Wonwoo to change your mind about that anyway?
“Wonwoo?”
He looks up at you just when he just finished wiping a cool, wet towel across your leg. “What?”
Your eyes shy away from his. “Um, you might call me a sap or something, but I…kinda liked it.”
“Liked what?”
“That,” you say while making some vague hand gestures at him. “When you were all gentle with me and stuff. I wouldn’t mind having soft Wonwoo again next time.”
Next time.
The words echo in Wonwoo’s mind far more than what he expected, and he finds himself frowning at the notion. Can he still keep up this charade, now that he’s aware of his feelings for you? How long can he continue the act until he inevitably slips up, and you find out?
How long does he have left before you drop him because he’s starting to want more from you?
“Wonwoo, where are you…?”
He doesn’t hear the rest of what you have to say because he’s already padding out of the bathroom—heart beating a little too loudly in his chest. Wonwoo fishes his glasses from the nightstand and the keys to his car. He’s more than intent on getting out of here as soon as possible, but it seems you have other plans.
“Hey,” you call out before tugging at his arm. Wonwoo forces himself not to meet your eyes, but he feels the intensity of your stare regardless. “You’re acting really fucking weird today. Is there something wrong? Did I do something you didn’t like?”
“No,” he mumbles, wanting to add, I’m the one who’s done something you won’t like, but opting to keep his silence instead. 
“Then…why are you acting like this?” 
The pleading look in your eyes almost makes him cave in and pour out everything that’s been flooding his heart for the past few days. It’s so easy to just rip the band-aid off and be honest. To risk everything for the abysmal chance of you reciprocating his feelings.
But Wonwoo knows that life isn’t a fucking gacha game, and he’s not about to throw away what he has with you now, especially when he knows what he wants doesn’t coincide with what you want. 
“Just having a shitty day,” he reasons, and the lie tastes like acid on his tongue. “I’ll text you later. Bye.”
Before Wonwoo steps out of your door, he makes another mistake of looking back. Now, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever get the image of you on the verge of tears as you stood all alone in your bedroom for reasons he’ll never know
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Wonwoo runs into Saerom in the supermarket one fateful afternoon.
Mingyu is usually the one who does the grocery runs for both of them—being the person who knows which brands are best for both food and apartment maintenance and all. But his best friend happened to land himself a modeling gig recently, and they rescheduled the shoot today on short notice. Wonwoo insisted that they could live another day without eating rice, but Mingyu was having none of it, and gave his roommate a full list of groceries he expects him to buy no later than today.
So here he is in the canned goods aisle, expression mirroring Saerom’s when she recognizes him as well. It’s not often that Wonwoo bumps into a familiar face in this part of town, so he’s rightfully surprised.
When she asks him if he’s free to have lunch with her at a nearby bistro, he sees no reason to decline. Saerom has always been his good friend, and it’s only natural for him to want to catch up. That, and he’s curious about what she’s doing here in the first place.
“I just moved into the neighborhood actually,” she explains once the waiter is done taking their orders. “Anyway, how are you? I haven’t spoken to you since that time I hijacked your stream.”
Wonwoo clearly remembers the day she asked him to look out for you all those months ago. Saerom is quite literally an angel, extending her concern even to the people who probably don’t need nor deserve it. He gulps down his water thickly, wondering if he should tell her the truth. 
But with how his brain seems to be all over the place these days, he ends up coming clean about it anyway.
When the food arrives, Wonwoo tells Saerom about the truth behind the porn videos implicating you in the past—how you’re actually the one being filmed in all of them. He also tells her about how Wonwoo takes part in the creation process of said videos (deciding to leave Johnny out of the story because that’s going to be another can of worms to deal with). Then, he ends the tall tale with the begrudging fact that he may or may not have caught feelings for someone he isn’t supposed to.
Saerom listens intently to each word—chewing on her salad with a contemplative look. She never betrays any sort of expression that would suggest her true opinions on the matter, which makes Wonwoo all too thankful that she’s the one he entrusted this with.
“I see,” she sighs once she’s finished the rest of her food. “I knew something was a bit off about her situation, but I’m glad that she’s safe, at least. Although about that budding romance of yours… Don’t you think it’ll be easier if you just discussed it with her directly? An outsider like me can only offer you so much advice, Wonwoo.”
He sighs, stabbing his food with his fork. “I know, but…what if she doesn’t want anything to do with me when she finds out how I really feel?”
Saerom lets out a wistful sigh—staring directly at Wonwoo like she intends for him to remember her next words for a long time.
“Then that’s your sign to find someone else who can accept the love you’re more than willing to give. If she turns you down, that’s more of her loss than yours, you know.”
Wonwoo wants to tell her she’s giving him too much credit. It almost sounds like Saerom is insisting that he’d actually make a good boyfriend. He half-wonders if he should ask her if she accidentally mistook him for Mingyu, but then Saerom’s phone rings in the middle of their conversation. 
It’s a short call, and Wonwoo doesn’t bother listening in to give her some privacy. When it ends, though, she bows her head in apology, letting him know that her boyfriend’s waiting for her at the parking lot.
“It’s nice meeting you again, Wonwoo.” She smiles before pulling him into a hug. “I hope your girl problems are already sorted out the next time I see you.”
Wonwoo lets out an uneasy laugh as he returns her embrace. 
He really hopes so, too. 
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One month.
It takes Wonwoo one entire month to reach out again, right after he left you without a word in your apartment last time. Part of him feels like he should be guilty for ghosting you so suddenly like that, but he swears he didn’t ghost you. 
He’s just…giving both of you some time and space away from each other. God knows his judgment gets clouded whenever he’s near you. 
Still, he doesn’t really expect you to forgive him for it right away. Much like Mingyu, you’re the sulky type. But while he usually deals with Mingyu’s sulking by leaving him alone for a few hours, that solution is counterproductive when it comes to you because…he’s already left you alone for a month. Wonwoo has a feeling that if he prolongs it any further, you might not talk to him ever again.
You were already wrapping up this evening’s stream when he left his own apartment, and he figures you’re getting ready for bed when he gets to yours.
His knuckles rap against the door once, twice, and he waits. 
Not that Wonwoo is counting, but it takes you five minutes to answer the door—already in your comfortable pajamas and your kitten skincare headband resting on top of your head. It seems that you weren’t expecting any late-night visitors when your eyes nearly bug out at the sight of him. 
“Won—” You shake your head as if you can’t even bear to say his name. “What are you doing here?”
He hesitates.
Wonwoo doesn’t have an answer for you. He gave you space for one month, and he still doesn’t know what to say when he finally deigned to show you his face. 
Your posture is rightfully apprehensive. Wonwoo can almost imagine how you’ve branded him as a raging ghoster in your head for the past few weeks. For a moment, he fears that you’ll throw him out of your apartment before he can even set foot in it, but you simply wait for him to respond—affording him some patience he definitely doesn’t deserve.
“I…” Wonwoo starts but his voice falters, forcing him to clear his throat awkwardly. “You’re getting better at using Chamber.”
You scowl at him, and if Mingyu was here, Wonwoo thinks he would’ve face-palmed because of how pathetic he’s being right now. 
Seriously? Bringing up the latest Valorant agent she’s playing when you’re supposed to say you’re in love with her? Wonwoo can practically hear his roommate in his head, along with an added, You’re so fucking mid, hyung. 
“Okay,” you say, still visibly wary of his presence. “Anything else? I’d rather get everything out of the way so you can continue ghosting me in peace.” 
Fuck. He knew it.
“I’m—” 
Sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was too scared of how I felt about you to deal with it like a normal person.
“—starting to think that you’re fine without me after all.”
At this point, Mingyu would’ve pummeled him to the ground.
Jeon Wonwoo, you have the emotional intelligence of a rock, imagination-Mingyu points out, and he couldn’t agree more.
“Well, thanks for pointing out the obvious. I am fine without you, asshole,” you bite back snarkily, making the motions to shut the door in his face, but Wonwoo wedges his foot in between. 
“Wait—fuck. I’m sorry,” he insists, swallowing thickly. “Can I come in? Please?”
The desperation in his tone makes you arch an eyebrow. Wonwoo never says please. It’s almost always the other way around, whether in a sexual context or not. So even if you know you should just leave him there like how he left you a month ago, you breathe out a sigh in defeat before opening the door wider for him.
“Fine.”
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You’ve never sat at your dining table with Wonwoo. You never had to. Whenever he comes over, it’s either to have sex or let you teach him about a game he can’t be assed to play on his own. He doesn’t stay long enough to warrant asking him if he wants some takeout or leftovers from the fridge, so seeing him nursing a glass of water across from you still feels surreal. 
“So are you going to explain why you suddenly just ditched me, or are we going to stew in the silence all night?” you ask. 
Wonwoo’s gaze flickers over to you irritably, and you hate to admit that the sight of that expression makes a pang of…something ripple in your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, much less spoken to him, so even if you should be fucking mad, you can’t help but miss him. 
God fucking damn it.
He doesn’t answer right away. Like he’s carefully choosing which words he’ll allow you to hear and which would be better off unsaid. But if there’s something you’ve come to know about Wonwoo after all these months, it’s that he doesn’t have good intuition when it comes to other people’s emotions. 
Even if it seems like he’s being particularly careful about his words, that doesn’t guarantee that what’s going to come out of his mouth won’t be stupid.  
“I just had to clear my head for a while,” he says, providing no context whatsoever, and that makes you frown even more. 
“Clear your head?” you echo as you cross your legs. “From what?”
Wonwoo’s usually aloof look shifts for a moment. An unreadable expression flits across his face, but it’s gone before you can even make sense of it.
“It’s nothing you should worry about.”
“Nothing I should… Wonwoo, you were already acting strange the last time you were here. Then you went ahead and ignored me for an entire month!” You slam your hands on the table, the Wonwoo’s glass rattling in the process.
“How am I not supposed to worry when all this time, you made me think I was the reason you suddenly just flaked on me like that?”
He narrows his eyes at you, as if he doesn’t quite get why you’re pissed. “Why does it even matter? I’m just your fuck buddy, right? Why should you care if I just come and go whenever I feel like it?”
The apathetic tone that accompanies his words lances straight through your chest. Were you an idiot for believing that the look he wore earlier in front of your apartment was genuine? That he was actually apologetic for leaving you alone with your thoughts as you wondered what you could’ve possibly done to drive him away without a word?
Your fists shake from where you’re pressing them into the polished wood of your dining table. Wonwoo’s indifferent stare doesn’t let up, and as the white noise rings in your ears, it makes you wonder…
“Why’d I have to fall in love with someone like you?”
The words come out so softly, so quietly that you doubt Wonwoo would’ve heard you. But as your vision gets blurry with tears, you don’t see how  surprise begins to eclipse his aloofness.
Wonwoo felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when his ears caught what you just said. He couldn’t have heard wrong. It was too quiet in your apartment to mistake what you said for anything else.
You’re…in love with him?
“You know what?” You breathe in deeply, eyes darting up to the ceiling as you wipe off the evidence of your vulnerability. “Just…leave, Wonwoo. I can’t talk to you right now. Please.”
“Say it again.”
When your gaze drifts back to him, it’s accompanied with an expression twisted into disbelief.
“What?”
Before you can even think about what he could even mean by that, Wonwoo gets up from his seat, striding over to your side of the table. You flash him another apprehensive stare, but all of a sudden, he cups your face in both of his hands—delicately, like he’s afraid of breaking something precious.
“Tell me you’re in love with me.”
You immediately bristle at his request. “Are you fucking insane? I know you’re a sadist but—”
Wonwoo presses forward without warning—capturing your lips in an unsolicited kiss that catches you off guard but angers you at the same time. No matter how badly you missed having him pressed up against you in more ways than one, you’re not going to let him trample on your feelings again. 
“I hate you,” you rasp, salty tears breaking their tension across your lashes as they slide down your cheeks in glistening streaks. “I fucking hate you, Jeon Wonwoo.”
Your words carry little weight to them, and Wonwoo is completely aware of this. Almost like he’s trying to placate you, he wipes your tears away with the pads of his thumbs—that hard-eyed gaze weathering into something softer, more sincere with each passing second. 
You abhor how handsome he looks like this.
“Is that your way of telling someone you love them?” he chuckles breathlessly, lips rising to the crown of your head as he presses a soft kiss on top. “If that’s the case, then…”
“I fucking hate you, too.”
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Wonwoo isn’t sure how long the two of you have been going at it, but by your fourth orgasm, your newfound lover is yet to be sated.
“Again,” he growls, tugging your limp body closer to his. “Say it again.”
One of the things Wonwoo particularly likes about exploring all sorts of sexual escapades with you is that you teach him things about himself that he never even knew about. 
First was that stupid daddy kink, and now…
“I love you,” you whimper, mindlessly grinding against his still hard cock despite being worn and spent. “I love you, Wonwoo.”
Despite the fact that your honesty drives him to near-insanity, Wonwoo can’t help the relieved sigh that fills his veins every time you utter the words. At first, you stubbornly kept up the act of hating him as he railed you into the mattress, but with every mind-numbing orgasm, your hate slowly bled into love, and Wonwoo finds it fucking cathartic. 
You beat him to what he came over to tell you himself. It was a little embarrassing on his part, he has to admit, but there’s some sort of relief that comes with knowing the same person he’s been vying for also feels the same way.
He’ll tell you the words properly someday.
Maybe not today or tomorrow, but Wonwoo promises that he’ll let you hear how much he adores you soon enough.
For now, he’ll give you one last release.
He’s certain that he can still go one more round, but he can’t really say the same for you. If Wonwoo makes you cream on his cock one more time, he’s afraid you’ll actually pass out from exhaustion. 
So instead, he lays you down on your plush pillows—crawling lower down your body until he finds himself between your legs. He chuckles when you crane your neck weakly to see what he’s trying to do, but Wonwoo is already hooking your thighs over his shoulders before you can say a word.
Your body twitches from oversensitivity as his tongue laves at your ruined cunt—not caring that his own spend has mixed with yours from where the creamy liquid seeps from your hole. Wonwoo groans into your cunt when your thighs squeeze around his head as if meaning to suffocate him with your pussy.
Honestly? If that’s the way he’s gonna go, he’ll accept it with open arms.
“Daddy,” you mewl, fingers tangling in his tousled hair. “I c-can’t anymore…”
Wonwoo suckles at your clit in response, earning himself a high-pitched whine as you roll your hips into his face. For someone who claims she can’t come anymore, you’re awfully eager for him to pinpoint your orgasm again.
“You can, baby,” he insists, peppering your inner thighs with kisses. “You can ‘cause you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” 
He feels your inner muscles clenching at his words, and Wonwoo makes a mental note to praise you more often. You might just like that more than his run-of-the-mill dirty talk after all.
“‘m your good girl,” you babble. “Always daddy’s good girl.”
Fuck. You’re going to be the death of him.
When you’ve recovered from the crest of your final orgasm, Wonwoo carries you to the bathroom and carries you into a bath he’d drawn himself. You complain about how he didn’t set the temperature in the tub right, and Wonwoo promises to do better next time. 
As the two of you soak in the semi-warm water, Wonwoo rests his head against the tiled wall—the fatigue starting to seep into his bones. He doesn’t let himself complain, though, because if he’s feeling spent, he can only imagine how sore you must be feeling. He wonders if he should order some food for the both of you or just let you sleep right away.
“Wonwoo?”
He raises an eyebrow at your meek voice calling out to him. “Yeah?”
You shift a little on his lap, turning around as droopy eyes bore into his. Wonwoo is about to call you out for being weird, but the words evaporate on his tongue when you lean forward to peck his lips. 
“Can I borrow your phone?”
He tilts his head to the side, wondering why you’re asking for his phone. You couldn’t possibly be asking him to film some content here in the tub…right?
Wonwoo watches in complete silence as you open his Twitter app—further feeding into his curiosity. But he doesn’t comment on whatever it is you’re about to do, patiently watching as you maneuver around the accounts logged onto his phone. 
However, when you pull up on the Settings tab of that porn account the two of you have been running for months, scrolling all the way down—
“What are you doing?” he asks as your finger hovers over the ‘Deactivate account’ button.
You glance at him, confused. “I’m getting rid of this account. What else does it look like?”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why? I can’t share my sex tapes with the rest of the world now that I have a boyfriend.”
The bathroom falls silent for about three heartbeats before Wonwoo wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. You yelp in surprise, struggling against his iron-tight grip in a way that has water splashing all around you. Wonwoo couldn’t care less, though.
“I love you,” he murmurs into the naked skin of your shoulder. 
You don’t respond for a while, like you’re surprised by his easy admission. But the tension in Wonwoo’s spine unravels when you rest your head across his shoulder, chuckling as you caress his face tenderly.
“Don’t you dare think I’ll let you off the hook though,” you chide. “You’ve got several months of dates to make up for. Just because you took the express lane into being my boyfriend, doesn’t mean you get to skip out on the effort that normally comes with it.”
Wonwoo shakes his head, turning your face so his eyes can meet yours. 
He can’t believe he was stupid enough to run away from his own feelings for an entire month. If only he’d been more honest with both you and himself the last time he was here, he could’ve spent all the weeks after with you cradled in his embrace.
But then again, it’s the choices you both made so far that led you to where you are now.
And for now, he’s perfectly content with that.
“Challenge accepted.”
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part one - part two - part three - part four
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q: is there going to be a third part? a: yes! however, part 3 is literally just in its early stages of creation. i don't even have a serious doc for it, just a few vague plot bunnies gathering dust in my head SJDFHDFG BUT since i'm feeling generous, attached below is a little sneak peek of what you can expect!
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?
aaaaaand that's all i have for now! thank you so much for waiting patiently for this installment! it took me an entire month since i posted the teaser, but here it is hehe :3c i hope you all liked it! do stay tuned for that third part, whenever the hell i can get around to writing it T T
this is part of the game over series!
3K notes · View notes
golden-moony · 5 months
Text
king of my heart | smau
pairings: lando norris x fem!reader | pato o'ward x fem!reader
summary: y/n is an F1 content creator loved among the grid and the fans, and more than one person ships her with lando due to how close they've always been. but when y/n goes to her first IndyCar race, the last thing she expects is being involved in rumours with another mclaren driver.
warnings: love triangle? kinda.
author's note: i might turn this into a mini series but i'll see how it goes. btw english it's not my first language so if there's any grammatical error please let me know so i can fix it, ty🧡 now enjoy!
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4
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yourusername posted to their story!
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[caption 1; it's indycar weekend in Long Beach, babyyyy!] [caption 2; time for practice and snacks🌞]
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patriciooward
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liked by indycar, zbrownceo, yourusername, and 83,527 others!
patriciooward INDY500 colors and back in the streeetz🤩
user1 lookin' goooood🔥
arrowmclaren it'll look even better with confetti covering it😉 user2 admin knows a win is coming!! 💪
user3 Este es tu año, cabrón! VAMOOOOS 🇲🇽
user4 is it a requirement to be handsome to drive in mclaren? cause daaaamn
user5 same girl, same
yourusername black is the new papaya fr 🔥 can't wait for tomorrow!
patriciooward hopefully you'll be wearing #5 user6 OMG?!?!!!??? yourusername can't show favoritism! i'm a professional, sir patriciooward it can be our secret then 😉 user7 OH MY- HELLOOOOO? user8 landonorris come get your girl bro!!! user9 omfg mr o'ward i wasn't familiar with your game user10 y/n sweety, wrong mclaren driver landonorris 🤨 user11 she really said i want a mclaren, don't care which one😭 user12 and she's so real for that
user13 let's goooo Pato!! 🦆🧡
user14 y/n and pato's exchange?? NEW SHIP HAS ARRIVED!
user15 i feel like i'm betraying my roots but pato and y/n would be the it couple fr user16 SO TRUE user17 pato and lando deserve sooo much better.
user18 NOT LANDO REPLYING TO THE COMMENT 😂😂
user19 f1twt is about to have a blast with this one 🍿 user20 they already have #teampato and #teamlando hashtags going on 😭😭
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yourusername posted to their story!
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[caption 1; preparation for ✨qualy day✨] [caption 2; that's how you arrive in style]
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yourusername
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liked by pierregasly, alexanderrossi, shelovesformula1, and 76,088 others!
yourusername First IndyCar race ✅ can't explain how incredible this weekend was! I’ve had the pleasure of chatting to so many cool people, discovering so much about this series and meeting so many of you! 🧡 can't wait to show you everything soon 😘
user1 what a babeeeee 😍
frosenqvist so great to meet you! hope you come to another one again soon! 🏁
arrowmclaren we second this! user2 she's an indy girl now 😎 tkanaan especially after all the fun we had last night😜 yourusername oh i'll definitely come back for more races (and parties ofc🙊) user3 she's part of the family now! love to see it user4 mclaren team 🤝 us: being in love with y/n
user5 PATO INTERVIEW??!! WE WON
lissiemackintosh so happy to have met you!! 💖
yourusername can't wait to see u again 🥹 user6 MY FAVES 🤩🤩 user7 girls supporting girls 💞 user8 we need a colab!
landonorris y/n get out of there. That's not your family!
carlossainz55 y/n please hurry, the kid has missed you maxverstappen1 y/n please hurry, we can't stand him anymore maxfewtrell y/n please hurry, he gets whiny when you're not around alex_albon y/n please hurry, oscar is about to commit crime oscarpiastri that is correct, so please y/n hurry landonorris when i asked y'all to back me up, this is NOT what i meant 🙄 yourusername if it helps at all, i've miss you all 🫶 (except Lando) landonorris i hate y'all fr user9 this is the kind of content i pay my internet bill for 😂
user10 literal queen 👑
user11 she couldn't become lando's wag so now she goes to indy to try to find a man lol such a clout chaser
user12 girl stfu she's literally just doin her job user13 try not to sound so bitter next time 💋 user14 get a life, hater
user15 MOTHER IS MOTHERING
user16 i don't think we're talking enough about that last photo
user17 RIGHT?! Y/N X PATO LET'S GOO user18 nah y/n x lando >>>>>>>>
patooward Indy looks good on you 💯 i wonder who took that amazing first pic
yourusername credits to you, amateur😘 user19 you can't convince me they're not flirting user20 i truly don't know if i wanna be pato or y/n... i only know i'd hate to be lando rn 😭 user21 y/n and lando are the endgame user22 Y/N X PATO TILL THE END
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landonorris posted to his story!
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[caption; safe and sound where she belongs]
sooo.... y'all want part 2?
909 notes · View notes
tzyuki · 1 year
Text
— (07.16.23) LOVE 2 HATE ME
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IN WHICH ✶ Y/n and Gunwook have a secret thing for each other. Except the two are extremely embarrassed to be seen with one another. Gunwook being the soccer star player, class president, student council vice president, and having awesome grades it was almost impossible for her to not see him as a competitor. They didn’t wanna ruin their reputations, how stubborn could they be?
genre 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ park gunwook x f!reader, academic rivals, fluff, lowk a slowburn
warnings 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ swearing, kms jokes, gunwook has his driver license fr fr, theres like an insane amount of usage of the words “scoffed” and “shrugged”. unwanted touch.
release date 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ 07.16.23
word count 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ 19.6k
perm taglist (open) 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ @jinkyu @jangwonie @cwsana @luvyrin @amara-mars @ineedaherosavemeenow @mintydayeon @love-4-keum @kpopx-xlover @abdiitcryy @beepjeongie @ox1-lovesick @ja4hyvn @shinsou-rii @winkura @ddeonudepressions @tnyhees @wannabeyn @kpoprhia @svnghoonsonly
ej note 𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ ahhh finally i am posting this! i’ve been working on this for about over three months going back and fourth to it. reblogs, likes and feedback are appreciated, I hope you guys enjoy this!
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Everything Park Gunwook could do Jeon Y/n could do better.
That’s what Jeon Y/n thought at least.
The two were equally as smart and equally as devoted to school, but the two were just too damn competitive and one of them had to be a winner.
Y/n was a recommended tutor for all struggling students, she had perfect attendance, won many school awards, and is studying many languages.
Park Gunwook is the class president, vice principal for the student council, soccer star player, also won many awards, and has outstanding grades.
But what bothered Y/n the most was the fact that he was ranked top of the class and she was right behind him.
She despised him and he despised her.
Gunwook liked the competition and the rush feeling he got whenever he and Y/n were pitted against each other. Whether it was in class, love confessions, being favorited, or literally anything else.
He just enjoyed winning over her and the look on her face every time she lost.
“Soccer is probably the most attractive sport.” Huening Bahiyyih said as she and Y/n were sitting on the field bleachers, watching the soccer game go on. “Hiyyih-ah, what has gotten into you. Clearly badminton is the most attractive sport.” Y/n scoffed.
“You’re only saying that because Park Gunwook plays soccer. As much as you hate him you can’t deny how cute he is.” Hiyyih tried to argue.
“Park Gunwook is my enemy.”
Y/n said, Hiyyih shrugging her shoulders and turning her attention back to the game. Park Gunwook walking off of the field to get a sip of water.
Y/n was watching him with an expression of hatred on her face. Gunwook saw her and waved, being awfully polite just to piss her off.
“Ugh, I despise him.” Y/n looked away and tried to find another player to pay attention to.
“Y/n,” Mr. Shin called out before she was able to leave class like her pears. “I need to talk to you. Don’t worry, nothing bad.” Y/n sheepishly smiled as she walked up to his desk.
“I need you to tutor another student, Kim Danbi from class 1-3. You’ll meet up tomorrow after school in the library.”
“Tomorrow?” Y/n hesitated to ask. “Can’t I do it this weekend or something?”
“Y/n, we already scheduled it for tomorrow. It’s the only time she is free and she really needs your help so it’s settled.”
“Ah, okay. If she really needs it then.” Y/n laughed nervously. “Have a good day.” She bowed before leaving.
Shocked to see Park Gunwook waiting outside by the door. “What.” She said as he stared at her for a little. “Nothing.” He said before walking into the class she had just left.
Y/n couldn’t do a tutoring session tomorrow. She hated how her teachers would just schedule sessions for her without even asking if she was free or not. But she loved how good it’ll look in her record.
Everyone knew Jeon Y/n’s life was boring, they had just assumed she was always free.
“Hiyyih,” Y/n approached the girl in the lunch line. “Can you do me a favor tomorrow?” She asked as food was put on her tray. “Is it difficult?” Hiyyih asked as the two walked down the room of the cafeteria to go to the table the two always sat at.
“No, I just need you to pick Hayun and watch her tomorrow. Mr. Shin scheduled a session for me again. I asked if we could reschedule but we couldn't.”
“Sure, I love hanging with Hayun.” Hiyyih agreed. “He seriously needs to stop scheduling sessions for you without letting you know.”
“I know, but I feel so bad if I don’t tutor them. And they’ll look so good on my record. I need to get a scholarship before Gunwook does.”
“What’s up with you and Gunwooks rivalry, it’s so silly.” Hiyyih laughed at the ridiculous words coming out of Y/n’s mouth.
“It shouldn’t matter who gets a scholarship first or who tops the class.”
“It matters to me.” Y/n slightly glared at her best friend. “We’ve been in a rivalry since middle school ever since he decided to steal Kim Dayeon from me.”
“Yah, this is all because you and Gunwook both liked Kim Dayeon at the same time?” Hiyyih chuckled at the thought. “He would laugh in my face whenever Dayeon would choose to do something with him.” Y/n sulked.
“It’s my middle school trauma and my revenge is being better at anything he does.”
“Last time I checked you’re absolutely shit at soccer.”
“Okay so I can learn, soccer can’t be that hard?” She shrugged her shoulders. “I can sign up for that school fundraiser game and beat him in a couple matches.”
“Well that’s surely a goal.” Hiyyih mumbled. “I have months to practice, the fundraiser isn’t till may.” Y/n said.
“Hi, sunbaenim.” A junior of the girls bowed and put down a carton of milk on Y/n’s plate. “Thank you for agreeing to tutor me today! I’m so sorry I couldn’t get you a second milk carton.” She turned to Hiyyih and apologetically shook her head.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Hiyyih smiled at the girl. “It’s no problem, it’s what I do.” Y/n responded to her Junior.
“Thank you again!” Kim Danbi said before making her leave.
“Why do our juniors seem scared of you?” Hiyyih asked. “What do you mean?” Y/n slightly tilted her head in confusion. “I mean, it was hard to not notice the tension.”
“How?” Y/n didn’t notice any tension between the two.
“She was looking down the whole time and I saw her hesitating on coming up to us earlier in the corner of my eye.”
“I’m not sure, she’s probably just shy.”
Y/n was waiting in the library for Kim Danbi. She hoped this session went by quickly so she could go home and to take care of her little sister.
“Hi, Sunbaenim.” Kim Danbi sat down in the seat across from Y/n. “Hi.” Y/n smiled and started to pull out books from her bag.
“What topic do you need help with?” Y/n, Danbi pulling her pencil case out. “Just english.”
“Good, It’s one of my best subjects. Hopefully I can teach you quickly, if we need a few more sessions that’ll be fine. It’ll just cost 20 each session.”
“Alright.” Danbi smiled, ready for the session to start.
“Okay, what do you mainly need help on?”
“I have a book assignment due this week. I read the book but I’m having trouble writing an essay for it. I heard you were really good at writing essays and you were recommended by a lot of teachers so I wanted to ask for your input and to help me improve.”
“Alright, it shouldn't be too hard. What book were you assigned?”
“All the bright places.” Danbi pulled the book out and Y/n’s eyes shined a little. “I love that book.” Y/n smiled.
“I remember doing that assignment last year, do you have the same essay assignment or a different one?”
“Gunwook-ah, do you have to take so long?” Gyuvin complained as Gunwook was picking out a couple books he needed for an assignment.
“If you wanna go to practice soon you can.” Gunwook hummed. “I’m not forcing you to stay.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
“I’ll be fine.” Gunwook chuckled. “Alright, I’ll see you.” Gyuvin patted his back before leaving the library.
“This is decent, you just need to focus on the emotion. Right now it’s like you’re half-assing it. I don’t mean that in a rude way, I mean it in a way where when somebody else reads this they’ll feel like you didn’t get your point across. Put more detail into it.”
Y/n and Danbi could be seen from the gap of books on the bookshelf. Gunwook listened for a little while. Y/n was good at english and knew how to express emotions with words, he’ll give that to her.
“Hey, actually. Captain is mad right now, so I don’t want to get yelled at.” Gyuvin pops up from behind, startling Gunwook. “You scared me.” Gunwook’s hand rested on his heart from shock.
“What are you looking at?” Gyuvin peeked into the book gap. “Oh, Y/n? That’s a little creepy.”
“It was for a second, I’m not a creep.”
“Oh yeah? Remember the times she was tutoring and you would—“ Gyuvin was trying to rest his hand on the bookshelf but misplaced his hand, knocking down books making themselves seen.
“You make it seem like I did something bad, I just left her juice cartons in her basket without her knowing.” Gunwook whispered and frantically fixed the books.
“I need to check these books out, wait outside for me.” Gunwook gently shoved Gyuvin in the direction of the exit.
“Fine.” Gyuvin put his hands up in defense, almost tripping over a book. “And please stop making noise.” Gunwook sighed.
“Unnie! Did you know Hiyyih-Unnie likes mint choco, she’s just like you! You guys have terrible taste.” Hayun spoke as soon as Y/n walked into the house. “Yah, mint choco is amazing.” Y/n scoffed as she hung her bag up.
“Did you eat already?” Y/n asked as she opened a snack cabinet. “Yeah, Hiyyih-Unnie made me a snack.” Hayun and Hiyyih were sitting on top of the island.
“Promise me it was a real snack and not just ice cream.” She glared. “Yes it was.” Hayun groaned.
“Okay, I trust you. Did you call mom and dad today?”
Y/n’s parents were on business trips all the time. They worked as Retail buyers and were always traveling for two weeks twice a month.
“Yes, they asked where you were and I told them you had a tutoring session. They want you to take a break from tutoring. They think you need time to yourself.”
“Believe me, I think so too.” Y/n groaned.
Kim Dayeon and Jeon Y/n used to be close friends. Nothing bad happened for the two to stop being close friends, they just drifted apart. Y/n likes to blame Park Gunwook for it because he was like a knife that split a piece of bread in the middle of their friendship.
He had gained an interest in Kim Dayeon and Y/n didn’t like that, no one would. Especially since Y/n’s only friend was Dayeon at the time and she had a secret thing for her, who wouldn’t?
Everyone thought Kim Dayeon was cool, she played basketball in her free time, her parents ran a popular sushi restaurant, and she was class president for a year.
She was funny and nice to everyone. There was just nothing you could dislike Kim Dayeon for.
Park Gunwook made it his goal to get close to Kim Dayeon and to do that he had to hangout with her any chance he got and that was hard since Y/n was with her all the time.
He swears he didn’t mean to make them completely drift apart—only for a little. He found Y/n funny when she would get mad so he would tease her about Dayeon wanting to hang out with Gunwook and not her behind Dayeons back.
Park Gunwook honestly doesn’t dislike Y/n as much as people make it out to be. He thinks they would actually be good friends if they tried, but the two were just equally as competitive. Y/n still had a grudge on him and Gunwook’s life got more interesting once their little rivalry started.
Actually, once he did become closer to Kim Dayeon he realized his interest in her were just pure lies. He actually didn’t like the girl that much, he just thought she was cool and thought he had a crush on her.
But once Y/n was out of the picture it was odd. Y/n wasn’t there to complain, sulk and pull that pouty face to Kim Dayeon that he would see every friday when they argued on who should hang out with Dayeon.
Jeon Y/n completely stopped talking to Kim Dayeon. Yes, it is partially her fault that she and Kim Dayeon don’t talk since she had dropped her out of nowhere but she still blames Park Gunwook since he was the reason Kim Dayeon rarely had time for her.
If he was being completely honest he had a tiny tiny interest in Jeon Y/n. But it would be embarrassing for him to admit to anyone, especially since the two have a known rivalry and “hatred” for each other.
“I wonder how Y/n handles all those tutoring sessions, she has at least three a week.” Dayeon wondered.
Her and Gunwook were hanging out outside by the soccer field.
“I don’t know. She probably has some super ability to teach struggling kids who don’t give a damn about their grades.” Gunwook was kicking around a soccer ball as Dayeon watched.
“Are you gonna sign up for the soccer game fundraiser this year? You should do it.” Gunwook suggested. Dayeon has always said she’d sign up for them but she always ends up not.
“You just want to beat me in a game of soccer.” Dayeon chuckled. “Which is unfair, considering the fact that you are literally our school's star player.” Dayeon rolled her eyes.
“I heard Y/n’s signing up.” Dayeon heard this from a random girl in the bathroom. Everyone was intrigued by her and Gunwook’s rivalry.
“Y/n’s trying so you should try.”
“As if, that’ll be so awkward.” Dayeon sighed. “We haven’t talked in like five years. I wonder if she’s different from back then.”
“Five years is a lot. She probably has changed. I don’t know, I really only talk to her when I wanna tease her about my test score or piss her off.”
“You’re an ass. As if you didn’t torture her enough in middle school.”
“I am not.” Gunwook gasped. “Her reactions are just so funny. When her eyebrows come closer to each other, her eyes shine with hatred and her pouty face she’s had since middle school.”
“That’s a very detailed description for someone who supposedly hates her.” Dayeon had a slight expression of concern on her face, she was shocked at how detailed Gunwook got.
“It’s just very memorable.”
“Sure.” Dayeon just agreed. She knew Park Gunwook could never have pure hatred for anyone.
When she found out about Gunwook’s intentions she was not surprised to say the least. It was obvious. She missed Y/n a lot but she knew it’d be hard to rebuild that friendship. One thing about Y/n is that she knows her worth and knows what’s bad and what’s good for her.
The feeling of jealousy she got with Dayeon and Gunwook was bad. So she stopped talking to Dayeon.
Dayeon stayed close with Gunwook and eventually learned a lot of stuff about him. About how he’s such a big baby despite his intimidating appearance.
“Did you hear about that new guy today? I heard he’s cute.” Zhang Hao asked as soon as he sat down in his seat next to Y/n. “It’s only 7 in the morning, how could I have heard of him?” Y/n yawned. “Did you not get sleep?” Hao asked. “You know that’s bad for you, I don’t care about what you were studying for. Sleep and your health is more important!”
“I was not studying.” Y/n pouted. “I was making tutoring notes actually.”
“Even worse.” Zhang Hao was about to speak again but the teacher walked in with a student beside her. The new guy.
“Quiet please. We have a new student.” Ms. Nam said as she pointed to the boy next to her. “Introduce yourself please!” Ms. Nam said joyfully.
“Hi, I’m Ricky Shen and I just recently moved from China.”
“You can sit right behind Y/n and Hao! Please raise your hands!” Ms. Nam said pointing to their direction as the two raised their hands.
“Hi.” Ricky said to the two as he sat right behind Y/n. “What region are you from?” Hao turned around in his seat and asked. “Shanghai.”
“Cool, I’m from Fujian!” Hao smiled. “If you need any help or a "guide ", come to us. Or maybe just me, Y/n is always busy.”
“Oh, are you like the class president? That’s a busy role.” Ricky asked. “I’m not.” Y/n turned to face him. “Park Gunwook is the class president.” Y/n scanned the room to find him staring at her. “The one staring at us.” Y/n pointed out.
“Oh, I see. Why are you so busy then? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I just study a lot.” Y/n laughed nervously. “She’s downplaying herself, Y/n’s ranked number two in this class and she has this really good reputation with teachers so they send all the struggling kids to her so she can tutor them. Now she spends three days a week tutoring and stays up late at night making notes for them.” Hao just spoke like he told a whole life story.
“It’s kinda messed up in a way.” He shrugged his shoulders. “You could’ve just said I tutor kids. I think you broke Ricky.”
Ricky was confused and lost. Not actually, it just seemed like he was. It was just a lot of information to process.
“Why don’t you say something about not wanting to tutor them? Or that you’re already busy?”
“Oh she does, but she has this rivalry with the class president and she wants to get a college scholarship before him and tutoring looks good on her record so she suffers the pain and sucks it up.”
“At this point you're telling my life story to him.”
“At least he’ll be filled in and not confused. You and Gunwook’s rivalry is kind of the best part of this school. It’s so funny when you guys fight.” Hao teased.
“You guys are crazy.” Ricky laughed, but it wasn’t a loud chaotic laugh like most people. It was a quiet one. Y/n liked that. Ricky seemed like a quiet observer.
“If you think we’re crazy just wait till you meet the soccer team.” Hao hummed. “Are they bad?” Ricky asked. “No, they’re just kinda chaotic—more crazy off the field, y’know? The other day Kim Gyuvin literally knocked books off of the shelves by accident because he misplaced his hand. I don’t know how he’s one of their best players when he's usually so clumsy.”
“And the other day they almost caused a ruckus at the vending machines because it was jammed and Han Yujin was so determined to get his snack he held the line up.”
“And one time Kim Jiwoong flirted his way to get free snacks from the snack bar.”
“That sounds like something I’d do.” Ricky laughed. “They usually only do it to Kim Jiwoong. If it happens to anyone else they’re either really lucky or just extremely attractive.” Y/n explained.
“I think they’ll let you get free snacks. You’re handsome enough.” Y/n looked at Ricky. She found him attractive. He seems sweet as well so that’s a plus. “Hook us up if it works.” She joked.
Park Gunwook was upset. Like angry, upset. He wished he had lost all his hearing in his left ear cause all he could hear all class was Y/n laughing with Zhang Hao and Ricky.
He didn’t think Ricky was that funny, so why was Y/n laughing so hard.
“Why are you so upset? You don’t even like Y/n.” Dayeon asked. She was testing the waters, she wanted to know Gunwook’s response knowing in reality he does like the girl.
“Because—they were being distracting. She was laughing so much, they all were! What could’ve been so funny.” He made an excuse.
“I heard Ricky’s getting popular. I’ve heard he also plays basketball, maybe I’ll see him in the courtyard later. I’ll tell you if he’s funny.” Dayeon
“That’s not helpful. You laugh at anything, and since Ricky is mega attractive you’ll just laugh and giggle at everything.” Gunwook sighed. “Oh,” Dayeon laughed, “Are you just jealous that Ricky seems to be so funny and attractive that all the attention will be taken away from you.” Dayeon spoke.
More like the attention of Y/n would be taken from him although he never had it…
But he was also upset at the way she ignored him and didn’t even brag or flaunt her test score which was the best one in that class. The first thing she did was put it in her bag and walk away with Ricky.
“Why would I be upset that the attention isn’t on me?”
“Maybe because you’ve had the attention of others your whole life and this one time it isn’t so you’re upset. I don’t blame you, if I had gotten all the attention growing up and then suddenly someone took that away from me I’d be upset too.”
“Okay, way to take a dig at my heart.” Gunwook glared at Dayeon. “I’m okay with attention not being on me for a couple days.”
“Bullshit, it's a couple of hours not days.” Dayeon argued. “Besides, I heard Ricky’s nice, you’ll probably turn out to really like him.”
“We’ll see.”
“Hi,” Gunwook approached the lunch table Ricky was sitting at. Y/n, Hiyyih, and Hao were also sitting at the table. “I’m Park Gunwook, the class president. I didn’t get to introduce myself earlier.” Gunwook smiled as he held his hand out for a handshake.
“It’s okay, I’m Ricky.” Ricky smiled back and shook his hand. “Do you like it here? I hope Y/n hasn’t grown an attachment yet and sulks when someone else hangs out with you.” Gunwook jokes.
Ricky was confused.
“What’s your problem?” Y/n scoffed. “I’m just joking,” Gunwook said as he turned to Y/n. “Forget what I said.” He turned his head back to Ricky.
“I like it here, everyone’s welcoming.”
“That’s good. If you need anything I’m always here.” Gunwook said before walking back to his usual lunch table where his soccer team and more of his friends sat.
“What was that?” Dayeon asked. “Just introducing myself to Ricky.” Gunwook said. “Y/n looked mad. What did you say?” Taerae asked. “It’s nothing. I was just teasing her.”
“Give the girl a break.” Gyuvin suggested. “She already has so much on her plate with tutoring and her little sister, she does not need you teasing her.” He scolded Gunwook.
“We all know why Gunwook’s teasing her, he just wants her attention.” Dayeon spoke out. “Oh my god, are we still on this topic? I thought we were just joking?” Yujin gasped, the group had always joked about Gunwook and Y/n if they had been together.
“It’s still just a joke—it’s nothing.” Gunwook shushed at Dayeon. “Ignore what she said.”
“What are you guys doing after school?” Gunwook asked, trying to divert everyone’s attention to his question. “Well, we have practice and then after that I have my tutoring session.” Yujin answered.
“I’m free after practice.” Gyuvin said, and a couple of ‘Me too’s followed by.
“Dayeon?” Gunwook looked at the girl, in a questioning tone. “I’m free, what are we gonna do?”
“Let’s get something to eat.” Gunwook suggested. “Where to?”Gyuvin asked. “The usual convenience store, duh.” Gunwook scoffed. “Boring. Get money, stop being broke.” Taerae groaned.
“Unless you want to pay for all of us at a nice restaurant then shhh.” Gunwook nodded his head. “Yup. I can barely afford money for the vending machine.” Yujin agreed.
“Yujin, babes you can’t afford anything. You use your cuteness to get everything.” Dayeon called him out. “And I’m proud of it!” Yujin huffed.
“How was practice?” Dayeon asked as the group all walked into the convenience store they went to daily. “Hi, Yejun!” Dayeon said as the others waved to the cashier. “It’s like you guys live here, coming here everyday.” Yejun laughed to himself.
Yejun was a student that attended the same school as them, they didn’t have any classes with him but always saw him working at the store.
“It’s in our budget and just so good.” Gunwook placed his items on the counter and waited for the others to come to the front. “How are you?” Gunwook asked. “Good as always, it’s been a slow day.” Yejun sighed, “Did you guys just come back from practice?” He asked.
“Yeah,” Gunwook sighed. “Coach is getting tougher on us, I just hope we win our next game.”
“Hi.” Taerae dragged out as the rest of them placed their items on the counter. “Wow you guys are hungry.” Yejun said as he saw the amount of food on the counter.
“Coach is driving us crazy.” Yujin pouted. “He held us an hour later.” Yujin sulked. “Well, I can’t do much but wish you guys luck on your next game.” Yejun said.
“Oh—by the way, Y/n is here. Please don’t cause a ruckus, I don’t want to disturb the couple over there.”
“Got it.” Gunwook said as he grabbed his bag of his food. The group of friends went towards the seats they usually sat at. There was a couple sitting down a couple seats away from them as Yejun said, and then there was Y/n who was sitting down across from Gunwook’s eyesight. Her head propped up in the palm of her hand. There were books and papers scattered on the table, she was just staring down at the papers.
Y/n looked tired and drained. Gunwook grabbed a Choco Pie and walked over to her table. “Hi, you look tired.” Gunwook said as he dropped the snack on the table. Y/n slowly picked her head up. “It’s because I am.” Y/n rolled her eyes. “What is this?” Y/n asked, picking the snack up.
“A Choco Pie, duh.” Gunwook rolled his eyes. “I know what a Choco Pie—why are you giving me this?”
“You look like you need it.” Gunwook admitted. “Thanks…people have just been coming to get tutored consistently.” Y/n sighed. “It’s so tiring, like I have a life too.”
“Jeon Y/n having a life, something I’d never imagine.” Gunwook chuckled, Y/n looked up and stared at him. Gunwook could see that she hasn’t been in the joking mood due to the lack of comebacks towards him. “Uh—just ask to cancel them or ask for just one student.” Gunwook coughed, clearing his throat.
“You don’t think I’ve tried? Mr. Shin especially keeps sending his students to me for tutoring sessions. It’s so stupid and tiring, at this point I’d rather start selling my notes.” Y/n rambled on and on.
“I could help you.”
“Really?” Y/n’s body jolted up, she was now sitting with a good posture.
“No, I just wanted to tease you.” Gunwook grinned. “I’m also very busy.”
Y/n groaned and quickly shoved all her papers and books into her bag. While she was storming out books and pages fell out but she embarrassingly ran back in with pink rosy cheeks as she picked up her stuff.
Y/n was seen sleeping and slacking off in class recently. She had tutor sessions on top of tutor sessions every hour of the week. She could never catch a break.
The bell rang. “Have a good lunch.” Mr. Shin said. Y/n got up a little later than everyone else, shoving her books into her bag. “Y/n, I need to speak with you.” Mr. Shin spoke out, making her stop in her tracks.
Y/n closed her eyes and prayed she wouldn’t get into much trouble. “Yes?” She slowly turned around. “What’s wrong? You’re slacking, you barely passed this test.” Mr. Shin placed her graded test on his table.
“Nothings wrong…,” Y/n tried to find the right words. “Don’t lie to me, Y/n.” Mr. Shin asked firmly. “It’s nothing really—I’m just tired. I’ve been doing a lot.”
“You need to learn how to manage your schedule. Make some time for sleep and studies. No time for fun.” He scolded her. “I’d have time if I didn’t have so many tutoring sessions.” Y/n muttered under her breath. She was honestly hoping he’d hear her.
“Jeon Y/n-ah. Are you talking back? Say what you said out loud.”
“I said, I’d have time if I didn’t have so many tutoring sessions.” Y/n spoke proudly. “Y/n-ah, you tutor because it’ll look good on your applications. You asked me to send students that needed help to you. If you keep this up—.” He picked up her low test score and waved it around, “You’ll never get accepted.”
“Get yourself together, you’re a great and smart student. Don’t waste it.”
Y/n would be lying if she said she was fearless, because she’s not. The cold and confident persona she put out was mostly just an act.
Jeon Y/n was confident and did have a cold personality. She was confident in her ability to stay on top of the school's ranks and almost always had a cold and moody expression on her face.
But she wasn’t just all that. She had fears like everyone else. She feared not being accepted into a good school, she feared failing, she feared disappointing others, most of all she feared not being on top. She wanted to be the best, second place was not enough. Which was the reason her stupid rivalry with Park Gunwook lasted this long.
Park Gunwook didn’t mean to listen to their conversation, he had left his notebook in the room and needed to get it. Y/n and Mr. Shin just so happened to still be in there. He could’ve left but he was way too intrigued once he heard Shin yell at Y/n.
“What the hell!” Y/n jumped as she was met with Park Gunwooks face. “Why are you always here to witness bad moments?” Y/n groaned and stormed off.
“Y/n—wait.” Gunwook grabbed the fabric of her sweater, making her lose her balance a little. “Let me help you tutor.” He said with no hesitation. “Funny. I’m not falling for it again.”
“No seriously, let me help.”
“I don’t want your pity.” Y/n walked off before Gunwook could say another word.
Gunwook sighed.
“Hi, Y/n-sunbaenim.” Y/n’s junior bowed. “Hi. Are you ready for today?” Y/n asked. “Yes, I am! I think I’m starting to understand it better!”
“That’s good.” Y/n said, her attention turning to something else. One of the juniors she tutors just walked into the library. “Hyunki, what are you doing here? Our session is tomorrow.” Y/n told the girl as she sat down a seat away from her.
“Oh, Mr. Shin assigned me a new tutor!”
“Oh, is something wrong with my tutoring? Do you know who it is?” Y/n asked, she wondered why Shin suddenly decided to switch Hyunki’s tutor.
“There’s nothing wrong, I honestly don’t know why he switched my tutors. And no, I’m not sure who I got switched to.” Hyunki nodded her head. “I just hope he's good!”
“He?” There were currently no males who tutored at the school, it was all females who volunteered until now. “Yeah, it’s a guy.” Hyunki confirmed. “Oh, Okay. Then he must’ve just signed up to be a tutor.”
“Hi!” Park Gunwook said enthusiastically as he approached the table. “S-sunbaenim.” Hyunki stood up so fast she almost got whiplash. She bowed to him, bowing pretty low to hide her rosy cheeks. Most juniors admired Park Gunwook and thought he was handsome. Hyunki was one of those juniors.
“What are you doing here?” Y/n asked, her eyebrow slightly raised. “I’m tutoring Hyunki!” Y/n’s jaw almost dropped.
“You’re tutoring now? Can’t you just let me have my own thing.” Y/n groaned. “No.” Gunwook chuckled and had a teasing smile on his face.
Gunwook was helping Y/n without Y/n knowing he was helping her. She had just thought it was another attempt at trying to one up her.
“Hao, you won’t believe it.” Y/n said as soon as Hao picked the phone up. “Oh my god, really?!” Hao sarcastically gasped. “What happened?” He asked seriously now. “Gunwook started tutoring today. He’s literally coming for my neck. Especially since he saw my argument with Shin about it.”
“First he steals Dayeon, my top spot, and now my whole life!” Y/n said dramatically. “Your whole life?” Hao questioned. “Tutoring takes up all my time, it might as well be my life!”
“You’re overreacting. It’s not like he’ll steal your scholarship.”
“Why would you say that?” Y/n scoffed. “I’m being serious. Gunwook might be an ass to you but he wouldn’t purposely steal your scholarship.”
“Gunwook’s not that bad. He just teases a lot, especially you. He was definitely worse in middle school.” Hao huffed. “But he’s better now. Remember that short period of time where random juice boxes would show up in your bike basket after you tutored?”
“Yeah, what about it?” Y/n was wondering where Hao’s statement was going. “It was Gunwook doing it. I caught him one day. And then remember when it stopped? He probably got scared of getting caught.”
“That was him? Oh my god…no wonder the juices tasted so good! It was probably some expensive ass juice.” Y/n scoffed. “I can’t believe him. He’s so confusing, he teases me all the time but pulls this?”
“I think he actually doesn’t dislike you at all. I mean—he did start tutoring to help you.”
“To help me? That’s crazy, Hao. Why would it be helping me?” Y/n exclaimed, she was pacing around her room now. “Because you said that he always shows up at bad times, like when you and Shin are arguing. He for sure heard your complaints and wanted to help you without you knowing.”
“I mean, he did ask to help me but I said no.” Y/n thought for a second. “I thought he was just fucking with me.”
Hao scoffed. “God, your stupid rivalry is so pointless. You guys could be friends by now if you weren’t so stubborn.”
“Now, you’re blaming me?”
“Am I wrong?” Zhang Hao was not wrong at all. Y/n was stubborn, stupid stubborn. “You think everything is a competition and he just follows along with it looking for entertainment.”
“Even if he started tutoring not to help you and did it for himself you shouldn’t look at it as him trying to steal ‘your thing’. If he’s doing this to look better on applications, don’t be so hypocritical. Because you’re doing exactly that. You’re tutoring to look better on applications, are you not?”
Y/n sighed, “You’re right.” She really hated when Zhang Hao was right, and Zhang Hao is always right. She was glad he was there to bring her to her senses though, she appreciated it.
“I always am.” Hao teased, Y/n scoffed at this.
“Hi, Hiyyih.” Y/n said as the tall blonde approached her. “How was your grandparents' house?” Y/n asked. Hiyyih and her siblings spent the weekend at their grandparents house. “Fun, I ate well.”
“I bet you did.” Y/n chuckled. “I gotta go to the gym. Wanna come with?” Y/n shut her locker. “What for?”
“The soccer tournament, duh.” Y/n playfully rolled her eyes. “Oh—you were being serious about that.” Hiyyih’s eyes widened to surprise.
“Why would I lie about that?” Y/n asks seriously. “Because, last time anyone checked you are absolutely shit at soccer.” Hiyyih said with honesty. “If you're doing this simply because of your stupid rivalry with Park Gunwook then don’t do it.”
Y/n had been hearing that a lot recently. She even hears it from people she’s never talked to before.
“It’s not. It’ll look good on my applications. And besides, Jake is gonna help me out.” Y/n sighed.
“Jake? As in, puppy cute aussie jake?”
“Yes—puppy cute aussie jake—why do you call him that?” Y/n’s eyebrow furrowed.
“Because he’s like a cute puppy, and he’s australian.” Hiyyih shrugged her shoulders. “Jake is the only Jake at our school, who else would I be talking about?” Y/n shook her head.
“So—you’re still seriously doing this?” Hiyyih asked as they walked into the gym. A bit crowded from all the signups. “Yes, if Jake Sim said he’d teach me then I’m gonna accept.” Y/n whispered, not wanting anyone else to hear.
“He—he said that!” Hiyyih’s eyes widened. “Yes, Jake Sim would do anything to teach what he loves.” Y/n scoffed. “Oh god—is Kim Dayeon signing up.” Y/n wavered.
“She could be, or she could just be standing with Park Gunwook and Han Yujin.” Hiyyih put some serious thought into it. “Like I am with you.” She shrugged her shoulders. “We’ll see soon, c’mon.” Hiyyih dragged the two into a line.
Park Gunwook, Han Yujin, and Nishimura Riki always signed up for the fundraiser ever since it became a thing. You would think the whole soccer team would but that would just be a disadvantage.
Kim Jiwoong just had better things to do, Kim Gyuvin liked to watch the game rather than play in it once in a while, Jake Sim would actually help people practice since he wouldn’t sign up, Kim Hyunjin had better things to do like karaoke with her close friends, Lee Heeseung would rather do the basketball fundraiser than the soccer one, Hwang Intak also liked to watch rather than play more, Yang Jungwon would actually watch Heeseung play the basketball one, and Kim Sunwoo, the captain who’s in his last year was just far to competitive that he knew it was best not to sign up.
“Okay, Gunwook is taking a sheet of paper…and then Yujin…and now…”
“Okay you don’t have to narrate what’s happening.” Y/n interrupted her. “Okay, she isn’t signing up. You’re good!” Hiyyih gave her best friend a thumbs up.
“So, what team do you want to be on?” Hiyyih asked. There are four teams, red, blue, pink, and green. The sheet of paper they pick before signing up is the team they’ll get, then they’ll sign their name and grade onto the teams sheet.
“Whatever team Park Gunwook is not on.”
“Did Zhang Hao’s little speech not get through to you?” Hiyyih asked and Y/n groaned out loud. “He told you?” Y/n sighed. “Of course he did. Y/n, seriously the rivalry has to stop. What if you both end up getting into the same college and it lasts those four years as well? Your professors are not gonna put up with that shit.”
Y/n huffed. “I don’t know, I have to figure my own shit out first.”
“Hi.” Y/n said as it was her turn to pick up a small sheet of paper. “Red.” Y/n said as she turned her paper around to show Kim Hyunjin and Lee Heeseung. “Sign this sheet right here!” Hyunjin said as she handed Y/n the clipboard with the sign-up sheet.
Y/n scanned the paper to look for a specific name.
Kim MinJi | Grade 12
Moon JaeYun | Grade 12
Huh YunJin | Grade 12
Sim JaYoon/Yoon | Grade 12
Nishimura Riki/Ni-ki | Grade 11
Sohn YoungJae/Eric | Grade 12
Park GunWook | Grade 11
Kum JunHyeon | Grade 12
Naoi Rei | Grade 12
Hirota Riki/Maki | Grade 11
She wrote down her name and quietly sighed.
“Thank you so much.” Y/n smiled and placed the clipboard back down before walking off.
“So?” Hiyyih was waiting to know what made Y/n sigh. “We’re on the same team.” Y/n said bluntly. “I’ll have to be in his range of area for five hours a day for three weeks.”
“Hello, is everyone here? Looks like it.” Mrs. Jeo said as she quietly did a head count. “Perfect, all eleven of you are here!”
“I am Mrs. Jeo! I am the red team's coach and representative! Let’s have a safe and fun practice! Please grab a ball and pair up into four groups of two and one group of three!” Mrs. Jeo introduced herself.
Y/n was gonna walk over to Kim Minji and ask if she wanted to be partners but that was before she felt a tug on the sleeve of her shirt.
“Y/n, be my partner.” Park Gunwook said as the girl turned around. “Why?” Y/n asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Because I asked. And who wouldn’t want to be partners with the star player?” Gunwook gassed himself up.
“Me. I don’t want to.” Y/n scoffed.
“Too late. Everyone else already has a partner.” Gunwook hummed and gently grabbed her shoulders, turning the girl around to see everyone else paired up.
“Let’s grab a ball.” Gunwook gave her a taunting smile. “Oh! and these will be your partners for the three weeks! Pick someone you get along with!” Mrs. Jeo said cheerfully.
Everyone’s eyes went to Gunwook and Y/n. Gunwook who had a smile on his face and Y/n who had facepalmed.
“Kill me.” Y/n complained. “Not just yet!” Gunwook gently passed the ball to Y/n by kicking it.
“You don’t seem like a soccer girl? I remember hearing you don't do any sports actually.” Gunwook tried to make conversation with the girl as the two practiced simple passing.
“I’m not. I’m doing this for the hell of it.” Y/n excused. “For the hell of it or just to compete against me? Unfortunately we’re on the same team.” Gunwook teased.
“What made you think you could’ve beaten me anyway? No offense, but you don’t have any experience in soccer.”
“Jake Sim said he’d teach me.”
“Ah~The Jake Sim effect.” Gunwook laughed. “He always does this, instead of signing up he helps the students who absolutely suck at soccer.”
Y/n can’t even take offense to that because it’s true, she absolutely sucks at soccer.
“Tell you what, I’ll teach you if you tell Jake you don’t need to his help anymore.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because I’m the star player, duh.” Gunwook rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but are you forgetting Jake Sim was a runner up for star player before you took the title?” Y/n reminded him.
“Yeah, but then again he isn’t star player, so.” Gunwook huffed. “Jake Hyung is good but c’mon.” Gunwook dragged the last word out.
“What do I get out of it?”
“Super awesome soccer skills, duh.”
“I could easily get that from Jake Sim.”
“Okay—then, super awesome soccer skills and more time with me.”
“More time with you? As if anyone would like that.” She scoffed. “Hyunki sure does.” Gunwook laughed. “Hyunki’s just got cute boys running in her mind, of course she’ll want to spend time with you.”
“Awh, you think I’m cute? You’re kind of cute too, Y/n.” Gunwook pinched her cheek. “You’re pushing it.” Y/n said sternly.
“Listen, I’m not so bad to be around. I’m sorry I gave you hell back in middle school and—the last three years.” He sheepishly chuckled. “Anyways, the point is that I’m only here to win so the money can go to the charity of the team's choice.”
“Just put some serious thought into it. I won’t force you to.”
Y/n put some serious thought into it. Maybe Gunwook coaching her could help them get along. But, would she really do that? No.
“Hi, Jake.” Y/n said as she walked up to the boy on the field. “Hi, Y/n. Are you ready?” He asked as he kicked the ball around and did a few tricks. “Okay, Showoff.” Y/n teased.
“What, you don’t wanna learn a few tricks?” Jake chuckled. “I only need to know the basics.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders.
“The basics? Please, anyone could teach you the basics. Why’d you ask me?”
“Because I know you would’ve said yes. And I know your teammates are busy doing other stuff.”
“I heard Gunwook offered to teach you, why didn’t you take the offer up.” Jake asked. “You know why.” Y/n squinted her eyes as the sun was in her way. “How’d you know anyway?” Y/n asked.
“Please, Park Gunwook and Jeon Y/n. You guys are practically a twitter hashtag trending every week.”
“I can’t stand Gunwook, why would I take his offer up if I can’t even stand him?” Y/n sighed. “Gunwook isn’t that bad. I understand you guys have a bad past but when you get to really know him he’s like a big baby.”
“Park Gunwook, a big baby?” Y/n laughed.
“You love exposing me, don’t you Hyung.” A voice was heard from behind. “Hi, Gunwookie.” Jake teased.
“Whatta’ doing here?” Jake asked. “I can’t watch you guys practice?” Gunwook responded. “Didn’t say that…just kind of…awkward…you’re just gonna watch?”
“I mean, yeah? Everyone’s busy so I’m just gonna watch you guys.” Gunwook shrugged his shoulders. “Help me teach Y/n.” Jake gestured to Gunwook to come closer. “You’re her partner anyway and on the same team.”
“I do end up teaching you after all.” Gunwook whispered as he walked past Y/n.
Instead of seeing Gunwook for five hours a day for the next three weeks it turned into six. It was gonna be a living hell for her.
She thought so at least.
The game was soon and they were almost three weeks into the practices plus Jake and Gunwook giving her extra help and it wasn’t so bad actually.
She started to see why people had been so obsessed over Park Gunwook. He was actually sweet and considerate. He would bring extra drinks for the three, towels to wipe sweat, and always brought an extra sweater just in case. He always offers it to Y/n when it gets colder later in the day.
She would be lying if she said that her heart didn’t beat twice as fast those couple of weeks they spent together. But she would never admit that publicly. It was too embarrassing for her and her reputation.
Gunwook pushed aside their rivalry and taught Y/n how to play soccer fairly without any arguments, or trying to start any.
“Y/n, how many times do I have to tell you. Kick harder. You’re not consistent with it.” Gunwook sighed. “I don’t care if you hit me.”
“Trust me I want to hit you.” Y/n groaned. “So why aren’t you doing so?” Gunwook scoffed. “If you get injured, our team is basically in jeopardy.” Y/n was reaching with this, there were plenty of decent Soccer players on their team.
“Please, like you’d even be able to injure me.”
“You’re really testing my patience, Park Gunwook.” Y/n stepped closer to the boy.
“Okay—that’s enough.” Jake pulled the two apart. He found it funny at first but had to stop before it got out of hand. “Take five.” Jake nervously laughed and pushed the two in the direction of the bleachers.
“You guys need to stop this shit. You can’t argue on the field during the game.” Jake scolded the two.
“We got it, Hyung.” Gunwook sighed. “Do you really? This shit has been going on for years, when is it gonna stop?” Jake rarely ever scolded the younger, and Gunwook hated it when he did.
“Yes, we do. We’ll try and get along.”
The two ‘got along’ you could say…?
They tried their best not to argue and stay civil with each other and it actually was kind of peaceful for a while.
It was the day of the games and Y/n’s heart was pounding with pressure and anxiety. Her leg shook up and down and her hands shaking and knuckles cracked consistently.
“You’ll do good. Don’t worry. Once you’re on the field you’ll get an adrenaline rush and do your best to keep up and win.” Gunwook assured the girl.
“How do you know that’ll happen?” Y/n asked. “We’re more alike than you think, Y/n.”
“We have the same desire to win and be the best. We get nervous and then a sudden adrenaline rush hits.”
Park Gunwook and Jeon Y/n had a lot more in common.
“Hi, Hyung! Hi, Y/n Noona.” Yujin said cheerfully as he skipped to the tent the red team was resting at.
“Hi, Yujinnie.” Gunwook ruffled the youngest hair. “Hi.” Y/n waved quietly.
“Did you see the lineup?” Yujin asked. “If you win against blue and I win against green we get to play a game against each other!”
“I did. Good luck, you should head back to your tent now. Games are starting soon!” Gunwook patted Yujin’s back.
“Good luck, Yujin.” Y/n said as well. “Thank you.” Yujin said with a big smile on his face.
Gunwook sighed. “I love that kid. A shame that he’ll lose.” Gunwook chuckled. “But he does have some rage on the field. Better watch out for him.” Gunwook warned Y/n.
“The real person you watch out for is Gyu Duho,” Ni-ki pointed out. “He plays dirty. When we had gym together he would break all the rules in the sports. He even sent a girl to the nurse’s office because he shoved her too roughly.”
“I heard he didn’t even apologize either.” Yunjin chimes in. “He’s a weirdo, and it’s drizzling so better be careful out there.”
The Pink and Green team match was up first.
It went smoothly and slid right by. It was a good match, Green (Yujin’s) team won.
Now it was time for the Red versus Blue match.
“Okay Red team! Huddle up before we go on the field!” Mrs Jeo clapped her hands and everyone huddled up.
“I want you all to do your best, have no worries and just have fun!” She exclaimed.
“Go! Go! Go!” She cheered as the team ran into the field.
“Y/n,” Gunwook said as the two were walking to their positions. “Just flow with it and don’t stress.” He patted her shoulder.
“Okay.” Y/n breathed out. “What if I do something horribly wrong and we lose?”
“I’ll bring the team to victory.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“Now we have the Red versus Blue! On the Red team they have Star Player Park Gunwook and Nishimura Riki of the soccer team! Do you think Red or Blue will win?” Danielle Marsh, the sports announcer said.
“Looks like Park Gunwook and Jeon Y/n are getting along? That’s a first.” Danielle’s little laugh could be heard on the mic.
“Is that Park Gunwook’s arm around Y/n’s shoulder? Looks like the two are getting close!”
“Let’s start the match!”
The start of the match went by smoothly as well. Y/n tried her best to keep up and actually didn’t do so bad. Y/n has only seen just a couple of clips of Gunwook on the field but actually being there next to him, playing the game with him, and passing the ball to him, felt different.
It was finally halftime and Y/n was so happy she survived the first half without being as bad as she expected herself to be.
“Y/n, you’re doing good. I don’t know why you were so worried.”
“This is all new to me.” Y/n gulped her water down. “Of course I’m nervous.” She huffed. “I understand why people are so obsessed with the star player now.” Y/n confessed.
“Yeah, and why’s that?” Gunwook smirked. “I can see your passion for soccer on the field. It’s—the realest version of you, y’know?”
Gunwook hesitated for a bit before nodding his head in agreement. “Yeah.”
The second half of the game went even smoother now that Y/n got the hang of it.
The Red team won against the Blue team and now the final match is happening soon.
She was nervous about this last match though, she’ll have to face Gyu Duho.
Going against Green was a little more difficult for Y/n. Especially since they had more experienced players.
“Guys, be careful out there. It’s raining a little harder now so the grass is gonna be slippery, Green has players who are more experienced and rough. Put your health first.” Mrs. Jeo patted all their backs before they ran to the field.
“Looks like we got Red and Green going against each other now! For the first time it looks like Park Gunwook and Han Yujin are going against each other! Will the rage of the youngest win or the star player pull through?!”
“Star Player, blah blah blah. All they talk about is Gunwook, does that not upset you?” Duho scoffed as he and Ni-ki were battling for the ball. “Why would it? Gunwook Hyung is good. They’re not lying.”
“Still, it doesn’t bother you that they never mention you or anyone else?”
“It doesn’t. Our team is good but he makes our team better. You’re not gonna get under my skin.” Ni-ki scoffed.
“Hyung!” Ni-ki shouted as he passed the ball to Gunwook.
Gunwook kicked the ball into the goal, scoring the first point.
“Park Gunwook scores the first point for team Red!”
“Hyung. Duho’s trying to get under our skin, watch out. I’ll try and let everyone know.” Ni-ki said quickly as he passed by Gunwook.
Y/n didn’t know what was happening but she could see Ni-ki spreading some sort of word.
“Y/n.” She felt her shoulder being touched. “Duho’s gonna try and get under your skin. Don’t fall for it.” Gunwook warned the girl. “What’s he gonna say?” She asked. “Probably some shit that’ll make you mad.”
“You’re doing good, don’t let him distract you.” Gunwook teased the girl by squeezing her right cheek. “Ugh.” Y/n wiped her cheek. “Be careful with the grass.” He said before running back.
It was like Y/n was cursed because right after that Gyu Duho and her were fighting for the ball.
“How does it feel to be Gunwook’s shadow? Always second while he’s first.” Duho chuckled. “He's a star player, you’re nothing. He’s top of class, your top two. He's the class president, and you're just the girl who lost to him.”
“He’s Kim Dayeon’s best friend and you used to be her best friend.”
Duho knew he struck a nerve, it was perfect timing for him to steal the ball and ‘accidentally’ kick the back of her leg making her slip.
Y/n didn’t move, it wasn’t like she was injured super bad she just needed to take a breather…on the grassy muddy ground.
“Looks like Jeon Y/n is down! Is she okay…do we need to get a medic? Omg.”
“We can’t tell if that was a foul or not. It could’ve been an accident.”
“Looks like she’s good! She’s up but I don’t think she’ll be able to continue, looks like she’s limping. Park Gunwook is running to the scene and…helping Y/n!? He’s got his arm around her shoulders helping her to the sidelines. I think this is the end of their rivalry.”
“Are you okay?” Gunwook asked in a panic tone. “I’m good, I think my ankles just sprained, I’ll be fine. Just—win the match and best Gyu Duho.”
“What’d he say to you?”
“Some shit that got under my skin.”
Yujin ran over to Duho. “Dude. What was that for? We play fair on the field.” Yujin scoffed. “Dude? Where’s your respect for your senior?”
“Respect? Respect my ass, bro.” Yujin scoffed before he ran to the sidelines to check on Y/n before the match began again.
“I’m so sorry about that, noona.” Yujin apologized frantically. “Don’t be sorry. It was Duho’s fault. He’s such an ass.”
“I can purposely be bad so you guys can win!? Or not pass the ball to him.” Yujin suggested. “Don’t do that, I want us to win fairly.” Gunwook said.
“Just play how you would usually play.”
Red team celebrated their win with pizza at a restaurant in the city.
“Gyu Duho sucks, like he can literally kiss my ass.” Y/n said out loud. “Y/n! Don’t speak so inappropriately.” Mrs. Jeo scolded the girl.
“But you are not wrong.” She muttered. “What he did tonight on the field was unfair and wrong! What he did to our Y/n should not have gone over everyone’s head!” Mrs. Jeo complained.
“Look at her.” Mrs. Jeo pointed to Y/n who was sitting with a straight face. “Oh—I’m like good actually, I can handle this pain, but thank you for the awesome speech.” Y/n nodded her head.
“Thank you, Y/n.” She put her hands on her chest like her heart was warmed. “Now excuse me, I have to go to the ladies room.”
“So like, what did he say to everyone on the field?” Huh Yunjin asked. “If he did—he was gonna say some shit to me but then I told him to shut up.”
“He was talking about Gunwook being the star player and how he overshines the soccer team but I said it didn’t bother me.” Ni-ki shrugged his shoulders. “Do I? I don’t mean too…” Gunwook asked and went quiet. “I mean—yeah but it’s good. Our team is good but you make it better. It’s not your fault you were gifted with awesome soccer skills.”
“I wasn’t gifted.” Gunwook awkwardly chuckled. “I just practiced a lot when I was younger.”
“Uh—what did he say to you Y/n? If you want to share it.” Gunwook made sure Y/n felt comfortable in the environment, knowing she rarely ever went out. “I’ll—I’ll tell you later. When I feel like it.”
Gunwook offered to give Y/n a ride and she accepted, who wouldn’t? It was cold out and Y/n could barely walk without a limp.
“About earlier, when I said I’ll tell you what Duho said to me.” Y/n broke the silence. “Yeah, what about it?” Gunwook’s head tilted slightly.
“Duho was comparing us. He asked how I felt about being in your shadow. He used every example he could, like how you’re ranked one and I’m ranked two, and how you’re a star player and I do nothing, how you’re class president and I was the girl that lost to you. The one that really hit a nerve was when he mentioned Kim Dayeon and how you’re her best friend now and I’m not.” Y/n wasn’t planning on telling him what he had said due to it actually being true.
“I tried to stop caring about what happened but I can’t. Especially since me and Dayeon used to be so close. To be honest, I had the fattest crush on her.” Y/n laughed out loud. “You did?” Gunwook gasped. “Was it not obvious?”
“I just thought you guys were really close and you didn’t want to lose her.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sorry, again. For all that shit I did in middle school and for the other shit I did that may have hurt you.”
“You’re not a shadow of me. We’re both good at our own stuff. Like how you put so much time into tutoring others. I literally want to quit tutoring so bad right now.” He chuckled. “I don’t know how you deal with everyone. Hyunki literally keeps trying to flirt with me.”
Y/n scoffed. “Almost every one of my students is scared of me, I don’t know why.”
“Maybe it’s the straight face you’re pulling right now, it’s a little intimidating.” Gunwook waved his hand to her face.
“Can we settle this? I don’t want to have any more bad blood with you anymore.” Gunwook asked, looking at the girl as he stopped at a red light.
“Yes, oh my god I don’t know how long I could keep this stubbornness up. Like I’m so sick and tired of trying to one up you.” Y/n sighed. “I’ll admit it and say I just hated not being first and took that out on you, but after hearing—from literally everyone on how stupid our rivalry is I’m finally starting to see their point.”
“I never hated you Y/n. I liked to tease you back then because of how cute your little angry face was. It’s still cute now.” Gunwook confessed to the girl.
“Haha—Thanks.” She laughed awkwardly, she wasn’t used to compliments like this. Especially from someone she’s been feuding with for years.
Y/n and Gunwook didn’t talk during school, they would only wave to each other in the morning and that was it. They had settled their bad blood but that didn’t mean they were friends.
“So wait—you guys are cool now?” Hao asked. “Yeah, we settled the rivalry but we aren’t friends. It’s kind of embarrassing to me.”
“How is that embarrassing?” Hiyyih asked. “Because everyone knows how much I’ve slandered him over the years, I can’t be caught as a hypocrite!” Y/n spit out. “So now everyone will only think we wave to each other because he helped me on the field.”
“So, you guys are cool…but you guys aren’t friends? So you’re pretending like you guys didn’t have a heart to heart?” Ricky asked, confused with Y/n’s shenanigans as always.
“Yes! Exactly that!”
“And why again?” Ricky asked again. “Because I can’t be caught being a hypocrite all close to him when last week I was literally talking shit about him and his goofy ass highlighter jersey.” Y/n huffed. “But when we had practices he was actually so nice to me I can’t believe I slandered him so much in my lifetime.” Y/n sighed. “And I actually admire his passion for soccer after seeing him play on the field in real time.”
“So you’re hiding secret feelings for him because you don’t want to be caught as a hypocrite?”
“Yes.”
“Y/n that’s so stupid.”
“I’ve never heard something so dumb.”
“Are you for real?”
All three of her friends said to her.
“Yes, I am for real! My reputation is in jeopardy if this ever gets out!”
“So you guys are good now?” Kim Dayeon asked Park Gunwook. “Yeah, we’re good. But I don’t think she wants us to be friends.”
“Why?”
“Because all we do is wave to each other…that’s weird.” Gunwook looked around the room trying not to make eye contact with Dayeon. “Why are you looking around the room? I’m right here?” Dayeon asked.
“Okay, don’t tell anyone this but—we had a heart to heart but it was about some shit that Gyu Duho said and he mentioned you so you were in the conversation.”
“Okay…what did he say?”
“He said some shit about Y/n being my shadow and he even went as far as mentioning how I’m your best friend now and she’s not…that’s why she froze up and he took the opportunity to trip her.”
“He said that!? That’s so evil, oh my god.” Dayeon gasped. “I’ll beat his ass—why would he even say that.”
“Because he was trying to get under all our skins! It was such a jerk move.”
“Where is he right now?” Dayeon asked, standing up from her seat. “Woah—Dayeon you’re not seriously gonna beat him up—right?” Gunwook asked as the girl started walking out the classroom.
“No?” Dayeon’s eyebrow furrowed. “I’m just gonna beat him at basketball, duh.”
“What are you gonna do 1v1?”
“No, you’re crazy, I’m good at basketball but Duho’s better. That’d be setting me up for failure.” Dayeons eyes widened. “I’ll get a team of four.”
“Good idea.”
“I know. I get Heeseung and Kim Hyunjin, and you get Ricky.”
“Woah Woah—Ricky? I’m getting Ricky?” Gunwook stopped Dayeon before she could run off. “This is not a time to be jealous, Park Gunwook.”
Dayeon ran to find Heeseung and Hyunjin. Gunwook stood there for a while before deciding to go find Y/n. Because wherever Y/n was, Ricky was with her.
Ever since Ricky started school here he’s been attached to Y/n, Hao, and Hiyyih at the hip. Besides the times he’d go and play basketball with Dayeon or anyone else at the school court.
“Y/n.” Gunwook said, gasping as he reached the lunch table where Y/n, Hao, and Hiyyih were sitting. “Where’s Ricky?”
“He’s at the basketball court, why?” Y/n asked, confused. “Okay good—he’s already there.” Gunwook said in between breaths. “There is about to be an epic awesome amazing 4v4 game going on. Let’s go.” Gunwook grabbed the girl's arm and she grabbed Hao’s and Hiyyih’s.
“Guys—can we walk at least?” Hao shouted.
“So why do we need to be here?” Y/n asked, slightly squinting her eyes since the sun was in her way. Gunwook switched spots with her so the sun wouldn’t blind her. “Dayeon’s gonna 4v4 Gyu Duho and Ricky’s apart of her team.”
Hao’s eyes slightly widened and his head turned to look at Hiyyih. They were shocked at Gunwook’s kind gesture. “Let’s sit on the bleachers. I heard news about it is already spreading.” Gunwook said as he dragged the three to the first row of bleachers.
“Why is she having a basketball match with him?” Y/n asked. “I told her about what he did to you at the soccer game.” Y/n’s jaw slightly dropped. “She’s doing this all because of what he did?”
“Yeah, Dayeon still cares about you, y’know? She never stopped.” Y/n went quiet. “It’s about to start.” She was grateful that changed the subject.
“For reals though, who do you think is gonna win? Because everyone on Dayeon’s team is good but everyone on Duho’s team is also good.” Hiyyih asked. “C’mon, Dayeon got Ricky. Ricky’s so good.” Hao scoffed. “Yeah, did you hear how everyone wants to go against Ricky because they couldn’t believe how good he was.” Y/n said next.
“Is he that good? I’ve never seen him play.” Gunwook asked. “Really?” Y/n gasped. “He’s so good, he’s like your level of good but basketball.” Y/n nodded her head.
Gunwook did not like being compared to Ricky at all. Yeah the guy was probably really good, but Gunwook just didn’t like being compared to him. Especially since Y/n was over here gassing him up.
“Am I really that good, Jeon Y/n.” Gunwook teased. “Hmm…You wish.” Y/n flicked his forehead. “This is about Ricky, stop looking for attention.” She flicked his forehead again.
“Can’t believe they won.” Duho was complaining to his teammates. “They aren’t even that good, especially Dayeon, can’t believe we got beat by a girl.”
“Say that shit to my face. You wanna act all big and tough during the soccer game but won’t even talk shit to my face?” Dayeon spoke out, she heard them talking as she walked by.
“What’s the soccer game got to do with this?” He scoffed, walking closer to her. “Nothing, it’s just you played really unfairly and I thought you needed a loss in life.”
“That Y/n girl deserved it, she’s so annoying.”
“Don’t speak about her like that.” Dayeon scoffed in disbelief.
“Yeah? What are you gonna do about it if I do?” Duho pushed Dayeons shoulders. “Hit me I dare you.” Dayeon pushed him back.
“Woah! Woah!” Gunwook pulled the two apart. “Guys not here.” He held Dayeon back.
“Dayeon, not now.” Gunwook pulled the girl aside.
“Hello?? You never get into fights, what was that?” Gunwook asked. “It was nothing, he was just being an ass.”
“Let’s just—Let’s go cool off at the convenience store.”
The silence was loud and awkward as the six of them stared at each other.
“Thank you again, Dayeon. You didn’t have to.” Y/n thanked Dayeon for the third time this day. “Oh, I had to. Gyu Duho is an ass and deserved to lose. And can you believe he was being misogynistic?” Dayeon scoffed. “He really couldn’t believe he got beat by a girl.”
“Two girls, Kim Hyunjin’s insane.” Ricky chimed in. “Two! Two! and he was so baffled. What is so hard about believing girls can be good at basketball.”
“He’s just like every other jerk, it’s not surprising.” Hao shrugged his shoulders.
“My brother is here, Y/n are you sure you don’t need a ride?” Hiyyih asked as she clicked her phone off. “Yeah, I literally have a tutoring session in a couple minutes.” Y/n checked the time on her phone.
“Okay, get sleep tonight and please for the love of god do not overwork yourself.” Hiyyih blew a kiss to the girl before leaving the shop with Hao and Ricky behind.
“Bye, guys. We’ll see you whenever.” Ricky said as Hao waved bye.
“Y/n, I hope we’re cool now.” Dayeon said as she sat up. “We’ve always been ‘cool’, I never had a problem with you.” Y/n chuckled. “It’s you, I had a problem with.” Y/n pointed her finger towards Gunwook.
“You were just so fun to tease, Y/n-ah. If you saw your face and reactions, you would do the same.” Gunwook patted the girl's head. “I hope we’re cool too.” Gunwook smiled.
“Yeah, if you keep this shit up that chance is very low.”
Gunwook started a part time job at the convenience store to fill his time. Also because he would see Y/n fall asleep every Tuesday and Thursday when she tutored those two students after school and he could play hero and wake her up.
Seriously though, he wished the girl would stop falling asleep because something bad can happen to her.
Gunwook sighed as he walked in for his shift, pulling his uniform vest over his head before walking over to Y/n.
“Y/n.” He gently shook the girl awake. Y/n groaned as she awoke from her sleep. “Gunwook, you could’ve just let me sleep.” She sighed. “And what let some weird guy take advantage of you? Certainly not.” He scoffed.
“I know you would’ve beaten his ass for me.” She mumbled as she put her belongings on the table away in her bag.
“Eat something before you go, on the house. As always.” Gunwook offered. “Thanks, but my sister is at home waiting for me. I need to eat with her.”
“Bring her food then. Just pick anything.”
“Why are you being so nice?” Y/n asked. “Remember, I want us to be cool. Although I really do want to keep our top student rivalry still a thing…” He said hesitantly. “Don’t worry. I want to as well.” Y/n chuckled. “You know how embarrassing it’ll be when people start calling me a hypocrite. Especially since last week I called your stupid sweater ugly and everyone heard me.”
“You’re just a fucking hater it was not ugly.”
“You’re right, I am a hater. The sweater was kind of cute. I just wanted to insult you.”
“Awh, want to borrow it?”
“Yeah, so I can burn it!”
“Y/n.” One of Y/n’s classmates called her name out. “Hm?” Y/n looked up from her paper. “What’s going on with you and Gunwook? I feel like I haven’t seen you guys argue all week.”
“Oh—bad week? I don’t know.” Y/n awkwardly laughed. “Yeah, bad week! I just don’t feel like wasting my breath on him.”
“Oh, okay.” Her classmate just nodded her head before turning back to her paper.
Y/n stopped by the convenience store to talk to Gunwook. “Hiiii.” Y/n dragged out. “Hi, you’re in a good mood?” Gunwook’s eyebrow raised. “I am, because look!” Y/n pulled out her test paper. “I overheard you tell Yujin your test score on the english test and when I had his class and got mine that was when I found out I did better, hah!”
“Blah blah, we all know you’re better at English.” Gunwook shushed the girl. “Oh, and people are starting to get suspicious of us. We need to start arguing again.”
“We argue, like—all the time? We literally argued about milk earlier today.” Gunwook shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, that’s not selling it.” Y/n huffed.
“What, you want me to go back to calling you out on everything? That was too mean of me, and I don’t want to upset you again.”
Y/n just stared at the boy and sighed. He was being so sweet it was hard for her not to fall for him.
“C’mon, I’m never losing the “i don’t give a fuck” war. I don’t care anymore. Let’s go back to arguing like we used to. People aren’t buying what we’re selling right now.”
“Okay, but if you get upset it’s on you.” He pointed at the girl. “Hi, welcome to GS25.” Gunwook said as he heard the bell of the door go off.
“Today’s kind of slow. My shift might end early, want to hang out after?” Gunwook asked as he was organizing the lip balms on the counter. “Just us two?” Y/n hesitantly asked. “If you want it to be,” Gunwook shrugged his shoulders. “You can invite Bahiyyih. I know guys are really close.”
“Sure then.” Y/n nodded her head. “Is it fine if I also invite Gyuvin?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? If i’m inviting Hiyyih you should be able to invite Gyuvin. But,” She dragged out the last word. “If it’s my house we’re hanging out at he better not trash it, you know how clumsy he is.”
Y/n shut her phone off and put it in her pocket. “Hiyyih is busy, she can’t make it. What about Gyuvin?” She asked as Gunwook took off his vest. “Gyuvin can’t make it either, he’s with some family right now. What about Hao? I know Ricky and Dayeon are playing ball right now.”
“He’s on a date with Sung Hanbin.” Y/n said. “It’s just us then, we don’t have to hangout…”
“Wait—he’s on a date with Sung Hanbin?” Gunwook’s eyes widened. “Like Sung Hanbin? Sung Hanbin, the one he’s been in a rivalry with since the beginning of the year?”
“Who else? Yeah, I was surprised too. Hao told me they were assigned as partners for bio and they started to get along and then they randomly kissed one night while researching.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders as she clutched into her tote bag that hung on her right shoulder.
“Do you still want to hang out?” Y/n watched as Gunwook was cleaning up for the next person's shift. “Yeah, we can. I’m good with hanging at your house, don’t you have to watch your sister anyway?” Gunwook said as he threw away the cleaning wipe and grabbed his bag.
“She’s fourteen, she can watch herself. I just get worried sometimes so I have Hiyyih hang out with her.” Y/n and Gunwook walked out of the store and walked to his car.
“It’s late, let’s hang out at your house.” Gunwook beeped his car and opened the door for Y/n then walked to the drivers side. “But it’s late, like you said. Don’t you have to be home too?” Y/n put her seatbelt on.
“My parents are out for dinner right now, I have time to kill.”
“Oh, okay.” Y/n nodded her head. “What are we gonna do? I hope it’s not awkward, I don’t really have anything fun at my house.”
“Talk? We can talk. I like talking.” Gunwook nodded his head. “Half of the time you tell me to shut the fuck up?? What do you mean you like to talk?” Y/n scoffed and her jaw dropped.
“I just like to get on your nerves.” Gunwook chuckled.
“Hi, Hayun.” Y/n said as she took her shoes off at the door, Gunwook as well. “How was school?” She asked as she hung her tote bag on the hooks on the wall, walking into the kitchen where her sister was at, with Gunwook behind her. “It was good. Who’s this?” Hayun asked as she looked up from her phone screen.
“Park Gunwook.”
“Park Gunwook? That guy you’re always shit talking about? Why is he here, don’t you hate him?” Hayun gasped. “It’s—complicated. We’ve squashed that beef.” Y/n’s head slightly tilted. “Mhm, because that’s totally something you’d do.” Hayun’s eyebrows furrowed. “Listen, I know. We’re cool but we still act all mean to each other around people.” Y/n sighed and slapped Gunwook’s shoulder.
“Gunwook, this is my little sister Hayun. She’s just like me so watch out.” Y/n cheekily smiled. “Wow, twice the torture for me.” Gunwook said sarcastically. “I’m not as bad as my Unnie. Don’t worry.” Hayun scoffed.
“Did you call mom and dad?” Y/n asked as she jumped to sit on top of the counter. “By the way, snack in this cabinet. You can take anything, just not my cookies.” Y/n hit the cabinet next to her. “Yeah, we talked about you.”
“Bad or good?” Y/n sucked in her breath. “Good, of course. But they’re seriously worried about you. When are you gonna stop doing these academic lessons?”
“Like—uh, never. Duh.” Y/n scoffed. “My teacher is on my ass bro, whenever I ask to get less sessions he talks about how I’m a good student and should keep this up in order to get into a good college.”
“Man, fuck college.”
“If mom heard you say that right now you’d get bitch snapped.” Y/n’s eyes widened. Hayun and Y/n were alike in many ways but Hayun didn’t have any big plans in life whilst Y/n did.
“But she isn’t.”
“Where are your parents? If you don’t mind me asking.” Gunwook cleared his throat. “They’re retail buyers. So they’re always out on business trips. Like all the time.” Y/n dragged out the last word. “At this point this is just me and Hayuns house.” She shrugged her shoulders.
“Don’t you guys ever miss them or something? I feel like I’d go insane if I didn’t have my mom with me, she helps me with everything.”
“We do. But this happens so often we got used to it.” Hayun nodded her head. “Don’t have that concerned look on your face. Really, it’s nothing.” Y/n ruffled Gunwook’s hair. “Did you just ruffle my hair?”
“Yeah even that was weird for me.” Hayun had a face of disgust on. “I was trying to be nice.” Y/n’s jaw dropped. “Yeah, maybe don’t be nice.” Hayun teasingly smiled at her.
“Unnie, we don’t have anything fun here. Why did you invite Gunwook over?” Hayun groaned. “Because, we just both happened to be free? And besides, I don’t want to leave you alone. Gunwook said his parents are out for dinner and he doesn’t wanna sit at home doing nothing.”
“So you invited him here? Why couldn’t you guys just go get something to eat?”
“Yah, you already want to get rid of me? Are you secretly inviting boys over? Or even girls? Or even throwing parties?”
“Who do you think I am?” Hayun dramatically leaned onto Y/n. “I just wanted some friends over. Can I?” Hayun put her best puppy face on. “It’s late, your friend's parents are gonna let them come? I don’t care, I just don’t want someone’s mom to come lecturing me.”
“It’s only eight! It’ll be a sleepover!”
“Just let her, my parents rarely let friends over when I was her age and I almost rioted against them.” Gunwook suggested. “I’m not her parent, if anything bad happens I’ll get blamed.” Y/n scoffed.
“Please.” Hayun begged. “Fine, just clean up after yourselves.” Y/n gently shoved Hayun away.
“I knew you’d say yes! I already invited them over…they’re almost here.” Hayun confessed. “I know you did. I smelled popcorn the minute I walked in here. Y/n got close to her face and teased her by pinching her cheek.
“Can you guys hangout in your room or something?” Hayun shoved her sister away. “My room?” Y/n gasped. “Are you embarrassed of us?” Y/n turned her head towards Gunwook. “Do you hear this girl?” She scoffed.
“I’m embarrassed of you, not Gunwook.” Hayun said. “Whatever. Just have fun.” Y/n squeezed Hayun’s right cheek for the last time before gesturing to Gunwook. “Let’s go find something to do.” She said as she grabbed her cookies from the cabinet and led the way to her room.
“This is my room. Nothing impressive.” Y/n shrugged as the two walked into the off white colored room. “Damn, you might have more awards than me.” Gunwook chuckled as he saw the amount of awards hung up on the wall and displayed on the girls bookshelf.”
“Best badminton player?” Gunwook’s head tilted slightly as he saw the award on her shelf. “I didn’t know you played badminton?”
“Only for a little.” Y/n was setting her bed up for the two to sit on. “For a year when I was fourteen. I won the award and then I quit.”
“You quit? Why waste talent?” Gunwook asked as he looked back at the girl. “I’m an overachiever. I quit badminton to join the debate club so I can win a medal.” Y/n said. “Damn, you’re worse than me.” Gunwook laughed.
“I blame my parents.” Y/n chuckled. “They’re both overachievers who are perfect for each other.” She patted the spot next to her on her bed, gesturing for him to sit.
“They practically push everything onto me.” Her face scrunched up slightly. “I don’t even want to go to college that bad. My parents want me in medical school.” Gunwook sat on the bed next to her.
“I’m just doing everything because I’m told to, and achieving all that is kind of worthless but feels nice.”
“What do you want to do?” Gunwook asked with pure curiosity. “I don’t know to be honest. If I live life tutoring students then so be it.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s almost like it’s all I know now.”
“That’s not true. There must be something you do like, right?” He asked. “You seem to have no control in your life…no offense. It’s just you’re almost graduating soon and you don’t know what you want to do for yourself?”
“You’re so competitive with me over every academic thing but you’re not getting anything out of it. What if you go to medical school, you're rich but not happy?”
Y/n went silent for a second. Processing what Gunwook was saying.
“No offense taken. You’re right, I don’t know what I’m doing with life.” Y/n sighed. “What do you want to do?” Y/n asked to switch the subject to him. “I want to do soccer professionally, if that doesn’t work out I’ll train to be an idol, and if not that then I’ll go to college for Music.”
“I didn’t know you wanted to do that.” Y/n hummed and nodded her head. “I think you’d be a good idol.”
“I’ve never told anyone but Dayeon that, you have to promise to not tell anyone else.” Gunwook panicked and told the girl. “Don’t worry, secrets are safe with me.” She chuckled. “Do you dance too?”
“Yeah, I dance at this studio near my house.”
“Cool. I hope it turns out well for you. You’d be a good professional soccer player as well, it’s your specialty.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want that to be what people only know me for.” He complained. “Like how people know you for being the school’s official tutor.” He teased the girl. “God, I need to quit, but I make a fair amount of money from it.” She groaned and fell back into her pillows.
The two heard a couple of shrieks from the living room. “If they’re watching a horror movie it better be a good one and not some corny one for them to be screaming like that.” Y/n stood up and peaked out her door to check on the girls.
“They’re fine.” She shut her door and went back to lay on her bed.
“That’s good, at least you’re making money. Seriously, when is Shin gonna get off your ass.” Gunwook sighed. “When I told him I wanted to tutor to help you he almost picked a fight with me.”
“Really? How?” Y/n held herself up with her elbow. “He said that you didn’t need help, and said that I was already super busy with being class president and soccer.”
“Well, he’s kind of right. You didn’t need to do that.” Y/n hummed. “I wanted to help you.” Gunwook shrugged his shoulders. “I never really had anything against you, we’re just both equally as competitive and equally as stubborn.”
“Y/n, I mean it when I want us to be cool.” Gunwook nodded his head. “I know.” Y/n said hesitantly. “I’m still getting used to being friends with you.”
“I get it. Just be yourself around me—but not the one where we argue all the time.” He corrected himself. “It gets tiring arguing all the time.” He confessed. “I know.” Y/n had a slight face of disgustment.
“Wanna watch a movie? Or even listen to some music? You like kpop, right?” Y/n asked as she flipped through her CD folder. “Yeah, what do you have?” Gunwook asked as he watched the girl flip through CD’s.
“Same dream, same mind, same night.” Y/n pulled the album CD and put it into her CD player. “By Seventeen, do you listen to them?”
“Who doesn’t?” Gunwook scoffed. “If you don’t then I’ll just assume you’re a loser.” He chuckled. “You’re right, Seventeen is for the cuties.” Y/n agreed as she laid back down on her stomach. “Did you just call me a cutie, Jeon Y/n?” He teased the girl. “Hm, I called myself a cutie. If the shoe fits though.” Y/n mumbled, getting a little reckless due to her tiredness.
“This song is so nice and dreamy, I love it.” Y/n mumbled some more. “Don’t fall asleep on me.” Gunwook laughed as he saw the girl close her eyes for a while. “You’re right. That’d be awkward.” She said as she sat back up.
“It’s getting really late, are your parents still not home yet?” Y/n asked as she checked the time on her watch. “They should be there soon. I should get going as well.” He sighed. “I’ll walk you out.” Y/n stands up and throws a sweater on to walk the boy out.
“I’ll see you tomorrow? At the park, let’s watch Dayeon and Ricky’s game.” Y/n said as she slid her slides on and Gunwook put his shoes on. “Yeah, do you not have any sessions tomorrow?” He asked as the two walked outside to his car.
“I canceled all of them.”
“Woah? All of them? What will Shin say?”
“Screw what he says. I’m sick of his shit.” Y/n groaned. “I’ll see you, okay? Drive safe.” Y/n said.
“I would give you a hug but I feel like we aren’t that cool with each other yet.” Y/n said hesitantly. “Who said that?” Gunwook unexpectedly grabbed the girl by her waist and hoisted her up over his shoulder. “We’re gonna be best friends, Jeon Y/n!” Gunwook spun around in a circle as Y/n laughed and pleaded to get put down.
“Best friends, my ass.” Y/n genuinely laughed, trying to catch her breath. “Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Y/n chuckled and punched his shoulder.
“Okay, bye.” Gunwook chuckled and finally got into his car. Y/n waved bye until his car was at the end of the street.
She turned around to see Hayun and three of her friends watching her from the window. She walked back to the house and slipped her jacket and shoes off at the doorstep.
“Unnie, was that your boyfriend?” One of Hayun’s friends asked. “No, do you guys think we’re together?” Y/n asked. “Yes! He lifted you up, and even spun you!”
“Yeah, we’re just friends.” Y/n nodded her head. “Don’t stay up too late.” She gave a small smile to Hayun and her friends before walking back to her room.
“Hi.” Y/n said as she and Gunwook approached Dayeon who was already with Ricky and Hyunjin. “Hi, you guys seem unusually close lately.” Dayeon pointed out as she pointed to Gunwook’s arm resting on Y/n’s shoulder.
“Yeah, ever since we first started playing games at this park.” Ricky spoke out. “What? Me and Gunwookie are friends now.” Y/n slightly gasped and teased the boy by pinching his cheek.
“She even called him Gunwookie, oh my god we’ve lost her.” Ricky jokes. “This is nice, we’re just not used to it.” Dayeon smiled, talking about the two getting along without any problems. “Trust me, it wasn’t easy for me to get used to it either.” Y/n chuckled.
“When are you guys playing?” Gunwook asked, squinting slightly due to the sun being in his eyes. “Soon. Is hiyyih or hao coming?” Ricky asked. “Hiyyih has a family thing and Hao is on a date.”
“Is Hao still talking to Sung Hanbin?” Dayeon asked, curious on the two’s relationship status due to their known dynamic between the two. “Talking? They’re practically dating now.” Y/n scoffed.
“That’s so crazy. They used to have such a huge rivalry, and now they’re giggling and probably shit talking together.”
“Honestly could be you guys.” Dayeon gestured at Y/n and Gunwook who were standing next to each other almost hip to hip by now. “Pft, no.” Y/n laughed as she took a step away from the boy. “Gunwook’s cute, I’m busy, dating just isn’t in my schedule.”
“So you admit he’s cute?”
“Yeah, I have no shame.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders and looked at the boy who was slightly red. Y/n slowly stopped caring about keeping their rivalry image up. She started to admit things that would’ve made her die hearing it months ago.
“What, I can’t call friends cute.” Y/n said as she saw the stares her friends gave her. “Ouuu, she just friendzoned you.” Ricky teased Gunwook as he patted his shoulder. “You’re cute too, Y/n-ah.” Gunwook ruffled her hair.
“Ugh, I hate you guys.” Dayeon groaned and walked away to the bleachers, the rest following her behind. “Sometimes I miss when you guys used to argue 24/7. People at school are starting to talk.” Dayeon mentioned as she sat down next to Y/n.
“I don’t care anymore, people can talk.” Y/n sighed. “Shin is getting on my ass about me canceling these sessions.” Y/n ran her fingers between her hair, getting it out of her face due to the wind. “I still have good credits and a good GPA, I’m not gonna fail yet it’s like he still wants me to do all this shit.”
“He’s making you do all his dirty work. Just quit it all together.” Hyunjin suggested as she stretched. “But I feel bad for the kids, they actually need help with their studies and Shin isn’t gonna help them with shit.” Y/n sighed.
“I’ll beg him to take half of your students.” Gunwook suggested. “That’s too much, I have like twelve students.” Y/n sighed. “We can split it equally, I take six and you keep six.”
“No, really it’s okay.”
“Y/n, you’re so stubborn just let him help you.” Ricky spoke out. “And so is Gunwook, if you two keep this up you won’t get anywhere.” Dayeon said.
“Fine.” Y/n huffed. “I don’t know how you’ll convince Shin to let you take half of my students.”
“Mr. Shin.” Gunwook walked up to his desk. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” Mr. Shin turned his attention to the boy. “What is it?” He asked.
“Wait, Y/n. Can you wait at your seat? I need to talk to you after.” Mr. Shin stopped the girl before she could leave the classroom.
“I wanted to ask if I can tutor more of Y/n’s students? Just half, she has six and I’ll have six. Just to take some things off her back.” Gunwook spoke.
“Why? Y/n is doing fine. Aren’t you super busy with class president duties and soccer? Aren’t you in the debate club too?”
“I assure you I can do this.” Gunwook assured the older man. “Have you noticed how much she’s been canceling?” Gunwook turned his head to the girl behind him.
Mr. Shin sighed. “That’s what I wanted to talk to Y/n about.” He gestured to the girl to come over to his desk. “Y/n, I was told you were seen at the park the other day. You told me you were sick, did you lie to me?”
“Uh—Yes, Mr. Shin.” Y/n said hesitantly. Thinking it was better to tell the truth now than to get caught later. “Why? You have such a bright future ahead. These sessions will help your application look amazing.”
“To be completely honest…I hate doing these sessions. The only good thing that comes out of these is students' grades are improving.”
“What are you saying? You don’t want to go to college? What about medical school? Your parents have spoken very highly of you and how amazing your future will be.”
“Yeah, a future they want. I don’t want to do any of that.” Y/n sighed. “I’ll continue doing the tutor sessions. Only to help the students out. Let Gunwook take half of my students, I have a life of my own. I don’t want to spend my last years of high school spending it in books. I want to make time for myself.”
“I’m not gonna quit it completely, I just want you to understand that I do not have all the time in the world to help other kids while I can barely help myself.”
“You’re good at negotiating, Y/n. Fine, Gunwook can take half your students. Next time tell me the truth. You guys can go now.” He shooed the two out of his room.
“That last part was a little dramatic.” Gunwook mumbled, only for the girl to hear. “I know, I needed to really sell it.” Y/n mumbled back.
“I love driving in the spring.” Gunwook shouted as they had blasted music playing through his car. “I love the wind in my face and the warm weather!” He shouted yet again.
“We’re getting stares.” Y/n laughed as she slightly turned down the music. “We’re blasting Seventeen, it’d be weird if we didn’t get stares.” He shrugged his shoulders, pulling into the school parking lot.
“I think it’s because you just drove me to school, not the fact that we’re blasting Seventeen.” Y/n chuckled as she unbuckled her seatbelt.
“Let’s go.” Gunwook turned his car off and unlocked the doors. “Wow, you guys truly stopped giving a fuck.” Hao laughed as the two approached the group of friends that hung around a pillar in the school’s courtyard.
“It was like that one Twilight scene that happened, where all the siblings walk out of the car.” Hiyyih said. “Are we that cool, Hiyyih?.” Y/n smirked. “Cool? Sure, I guess. Big impact? Yes.” Hiyyih laughed.
“I can’t wait to hear what everyone thinks of this.” Dayeon chuckled. “This might be even bigger than me and Hanbin.” Hao raised his eyebrow as he spoke.
“Right, especially since Gunwook and Y/n have had this rivalry shit since middle school.” Hiyyih nodded her head. “I hope they don’t bring up the fact that I talked shit about his pants last week.” Y/n mumbled slightly.
“You’re my biggest hater, y’know that?” Gunwook looked at the girl with widened eyes.
All day Y/n heard whispers around her. Either bad or good ones, there was no inbetween.
“Wasn’t she talking shit about him like three days ago? Something about his pants.”
“Yeah, and what about the time she called his sweater ugly? And her huge ass problem of always wanting to beat him at anything?”
“Yeah, she’s just a big fake. I hope he realizes that soon.”
“Y/n, if I beat you to the cafeteria you have to buy me three chocolate bars from the store.” Gunwook spoke out as he sat down in the empty spot next to the girl. “What do I get if I beat you?” Y/n asked.
“You get to borrow my awesome sweater you love.” Gunwook teased. “I might as well then just walk.” Y/n scoffed. “Fine, then you decide what you want.”
The two were waiting for the bell to ring so they could start the bet.
As soon as it did, they sprinted out of the room, they made sure not to bump into anyone on the way out of the room or down the stairs.
Their laughs and giggles were so loud like it was out on the intercom. “You’re more athletic than me, give me a break!” Y/n giggled as she grabbed onto his arm to drag him back and got the chance to move in front of him.
“Was that Park Gunwook and Jeon Y/n?” A classmate said as they saw the pair run past them. “I heard they were friends now, I didn’t believe it. But I guess they’re cool now.” Another one said.
“As expected! I won.” Y/n said as she touched the glass doors of the cafeteria. “Fine, you win.” Gunwook tried to catch his breath. “What do you want?” He put his arm around the girl and walked her towards the cafeteria line.
“Hm, give me some time to think about it.” Y/n nodded her head. “How did you guys not get in trouble for running? I jog in the hallways one time and I get detention.” Ricky said, cutting the people in front of him to get to the two. “Because it’s almost the end of the year, teachers don’t care.” Y/n smirked.
“Have you heard the whispers Y/n?” Ricky asked. “Duh. People are calling me fake. It doesn’t bother me much. I know me and Gunwook are cool with each other so I don’t really care.” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, these people need to get over it.”
“Y/n’s just my biggest hater, I don’t really mind. It’s kind of cute, she’s like obsessed with me.” Gunwook sneered. “I am not obsessed with you.” Y/n chuckled. “You wish I was.”
Everyone started to get used to the fact that Y/n and Gunwook we’re friends now. The two did often still argue about test grades and stuff but it was nothing to the extreme. It was all jokes now.
Sometimes they even would do tutor sessions together and it went by smoothly. The two also had gotten more comfortable with each other, everyone else had noticed this as well.
It started with the little things, like Gunwook resting his arm on her shoulder, Gunwook leaning his head a little too close to Y/n’s shoulder, then giving hugs before saying bye, Gunwook’s teasing got ‘worse’, he would tickle and throw her over his shoulders.
Y/n didn’t mind, she actually quite liked her friendship with Gunwook now. It’s cute and heartwarming especially when you consider their bad past.
The two hung out a lot, even when they didn’t have anything to do they would just listen to Seventeen and talk or study in silence even. That’s how comfortable they were now, they could sit in silence and study with no ounce of discomfort in the air.
The two endearingly tease each other. They unconsciously flirt and it goes over both of their heads. Calling each other cute, ruffling each other's hair, squeezing one’s cheek, and tickling each other.
People started to think they were a couple and not friends. It was hard to believe really, everyone at school was shocked to see how comfortable and touchy the two were with each other.
“Y/n.” Gunwook groaned as he dramatically leaned into the girl sitting next to him. “What.” Y/n dragged out her word. “Why did you give me your worst students ever?” He said with a pout. “They aren’t bad, they’re just so in love with you that they can’t focus.” She laughed out loud.
“Now, go, you have a shift and I have a session soon.” Y/n pushed the boy off of her. “Fine, I’ll see you later.” Gunwook sighed and walked over to the counter.
After Y/n's session she fell asleep. She usually does but doesn’t worry because Gunwook is around the corner.
Y/n was shaken awake. “Gunwook? Is your shift over?” She mumbled as she slowly lifted her head up. “Oh—Sorry, do you need to sit here?” Y/n asked, suddenly standing up as she saw a man a few years older than her.
“Sorry, miss. You were sleeping and something bad could’ve happened.” The man gently put his hand on her shoulder, caressing it. “Heh, yeah.” Y/n awkwardly laughed as she shifted around slightly. “Uhm—thank you for waking me—my boyfriend is almost here!” Y/n looked at her watch. She gently pushed the man’s hand away but he put it back on her, going up and down her arm, slowly.
She knew Gunwook’s shift was about to end and had really hoped he would be quick to get his things together.
“Baby!” Y/n shouted as Gunwook came from around the corner. He was shocked, but quickly understood the situation as he saw the uncomfortable expression on the girl's face.
“Sorry for taking too long, how was your session?” Gunwook said as he pulled the girl into his arms and kissed her forehead. “It was good! I accidentally fell asleep again.” Y/n said as she put one of her backpack straps on her shoulder and put her other arm around Gunwook’s.
The two walked out of the store still arm in arm.
“God, that guy was such a creep.” Y/n scoffed. “He tried to act like some savior, saying he woke me up because something bad could’ve happened, then he started caressing my arm.” Y/n got the shivers.
“Please stop falling asleep after your sessions, especially in public places.” Gunwook expressed his concern. “I don’t want anything bad happening to you.” Gunwook locked eyes with the girl.
“Thank you, for helping me.” Y/n nodded and gave him a small smile.
“I’ll always be there to help you.”
For the past couple weeks Y/n has started to feel different around Gunwook. Not a bad difference, just a difference she wasn’t used to…
She started to notice how long their hugs actually lasted, how long his hands lingered in her hair when he’d get it out of her face due to the wind, and how many hours the two actually spent together on a free day.
She liked all those things mentioned. She enjoyed spending time with Gunwook, she enjoyed his hugs, and she enjoyed his lingering touches when he’d tease her or play with her hair.
She also started to notice the swirly butterfly feeling that spread throughout her body around the boy.
She really didn’t want to admit it but deep down she knew. She had started to take a liking for Park Gunwook, in the way where she wanted him to hold her in his arms for as long as he could.
“Y/n-ah, stop staring so hard.” Hiyyih broke Y/n’s focus on the field. “What, I can’t stare at him? He’s the star player.” Y/n turned her head to look at the blonde. “What’s going on between you two?” Hiyyih asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean literally almost all of us can sense the odd tension between you and him.” Y/n sighed at that. “So—yes I’ve been feeling a little odd around him. So what?”
“So what? So what about fixing that odd tension? Something bad didn’t happen, right?” Hiyyih asked with concern. “No, nothing bad!” Y/n rushed to say. “Okay, listen. I think I might have feelings for Gunwook in more than a friend way.” Y/n confessed.
“Fina-fucking-ly.” Hiyyih bursted out laughing. “Why are you laughing so hard? What do you mean?” Y/n was confused and lost.
“You're so oblivious. Gunwook has had such a huge crush on you for like—ever!”
“How? Did he tell you guys something?”
“Not exactly. Dayeon told me how much he loved seeing your cute little pouty face you make when you get mad. Why do you think he teases you so much?” Hiyyih had a smug smile on her face. “What if he doesn’t and that’s just his personality?”
“Just take the chance.”
Y/n has started to observe Gunwook’s behavior around her. She was confused on how there could be a chance that Gunwook did like her like that. He was so normal and calm around the girl, there was no sign of shyness at all, so how could he see the girl in that way?
“Gunwook,” Y/n said. Interrupting silence that was there. “Yeah?” He lifted his head from his notebook.
The two were studying in Y/n’s room.
“I heard something about you, and I don’t know if it’s true or not. I just wanted to ask.” Y/n said hesitantly. “What is it?” The boy asked. “Do you have a big fat crush on me?” Y/n said in a teasing tone to make it less embarrassing to ask.
“You wish I did!” Gunwook jokes and started poking at her torso with his pen. “No seriously though. I heard you tease me because you like my mad pouty face.” Y/n said seriously this time.
“Yah! Did Dayeon rat me out to you?!” Gunwook panicked. “So it’s true!?” Y/n laughed. “Ugh—I don’t—I don’t even know!” Gunwook spit out. “What do you mean you don’t know?” Y/n asked.
“I don’t know if what I feel for you is THAT.” Gunwook emphasized on the ‘that’.
“Kiss me then.” Y/n suggested, cringing at what she had just said. “Oh my god, ew I can’t believe you just said that.” Gunwook almost gagged. “What? It’s just a kiss.”
“Where is all this confidence coming from, oh my god.” Gunwook’s ears turned red. “It’s a win-win, we kiss and you figure out if you like me or not.” Y/n said.
“Do you just want to kiss me?” Gunwook asked, eyes slightly widened. “Oh my god, a girl is suggesting you kiss her and you still haven’t?” Y/n scoffed. “You’re so clueless.” Y/n shook her head as she mumbled. “Let’s just—forget about this.” Y/n went back to her book.
Y/n had been even more odd and off around Park Gunwook ever since that situation between the two happened. She tried not to distance herself but it failed. She happened to take in two more students to tutor to fill in her time so she won’t have any to hang out with the boy.
“I’m sorry, Gunwook. I have to tutor after school.” Y/n said apologetically. “It’s Friday, you don’t have any on Friday’s.” Gunwook knew Y/n’s schedule in and out. “I took two more students in. I have one at four and another at five.” Y/n nodded her head.
“Why would you do that? Didn’t you give me half of your students so you can have more time?”
“I don’t know. They were Danielle’s students but I know she is going back to Australia so I told her I can take them.” Danielle Marsh was another girl who helped tutor students.
“Are you planning to tutor students the whole summer too?” Gunwook jokes. “If I have too.” Y/n sheepishly chuckled. “Seriously? You should drop all the sessions this summer.” Gunwook said.
“Why?” Y/n asked. “I’ve got nothing better to do.” Y/n said. “Because we’re gonna be hanging out all summer, duh? And the whole crew as well.”
“Well—I actually have a soccer camp the first two weeks of summer.” Gunwook interrupted his own thoughts. “But after that we can hang out all day everyday!” He said with excitement. “I don’t want to take you away from hanging with your other friends. I heard you barely hang out with them anymore.” Y/n glanced down at the floor, not wanting to look Gunwook in the eyes.
“What’s up with you? You’re being weird.” Gunwook’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not being weird, it’s the truth. What about your other friends?”
“They don’t really care, they have their own lives, they’re busy doing their own things.” Gunwook was starting to get a little frustrated with the girl. “Seriously what’s up with you.” He scoffed.
“Nothing’s up.” Her shoulders shrug. “Something’s definitely up. Why won’t you tell me?” Gunwook gently shoved the girl's shoulder. “Because it’s so stupid, you’ll probably laugh at me and then walk away.” Y/n spat out and walked away in the direction of Hiyyih’s brother’s car before the boy could get a chance to say anything else.
“Dayeon, Y/n has been acting weird, have you noticed?” Gunwook asked the girl. “No, she’s normal around me. Why, is something up with you two?” Dayeon asked, looking up from her phone.
“I don’t even know. She’s being weird around me, I don’t know if I did something or if I said something.”
“Did anything happen before she started acting like that?” Dayeon asked. “Just—ugh promise you won’t tell this to anyone.” Gunwook sighed. “Promise.” Dayeon’s face slightly scrunched up.
“A few weeks back Y/n asked me if I liked her in more than a friend way. I said I don’t even know and then she suggested I kiss her. I just said some random shit because I didn’t want to kiss her and turn all red. Then she said “A girl is suggesting you kiss her and you still haven’t.” and said to forget about it. I listened to her and haven't thought about it.”
“Oh my god! You’re so pathetic, I can’t believe you did that.” Dayeon let out a mixture of a scoff and a laugh. “I thought she was just fucking with me.” Gunwook said. “Clearly she wasn’t. She wants to kiss you bro. Clearly she likes you.”
“Y/n is the type to shut down and give up when it comes to shit like this. Take the chance before she loses feelings. I heard this junior likes her, so get her before he does.”
Gunwook realized how distanced Y/n had been now that Dayeon had put that thought into his head. She had been getting awfully close to this junior she was tutoring. They had been hanging out on different occasions that did not in fact involve studying.
“Y/n,” Gunwook called out to the girl in a whisper, who was currently tutoring the said junior in the library. “Y/n, can I talk to you real quick?” He asked, Y/n looked a little annoyed at the boy’s interruption.
“What is it?” Y/n said in a frustrated tone as the boy pulled her behind a bookshelf. “Nothing, I just wanted to talk to you.” Gunwook said with a cheesy smile. “Gunwook, seriously? I’m busy.” Y/n scoffed. “I just miss hanging and talking with you. You’re spending all your time with that junior.” Gunwook scoffed and slightly pointed in the direction of the junior.
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing—nothing is wrong with that. I just want to know what I did wrong and why you barely talk to me anymore.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then why are you being like this right now.”
“Because—fuck it.” Y/n mumbled the swears that came out of her mouth. “Because, Gunwook I like you. More than a friend, and clearly you don’t. I was just distancing myself so I can get over you.” Y/n finally confessed.
Gunwook was left speechless at that. “See, you don’t even know what to say.” Y/n huffed and walked away but was stopped at the grip of a hand holding her back.
“Y/n, you didn’t even get to say anything.” Gunwook sighed. “I like you, I have for like—ever honestly. I only realized it just a couple weeks ago.”
“Are you just messing with me?”
“No, why would I? I do like you Y/n. I’m not messing with you, this is not a joke at all. I like to spend time with you, I like when you try and argue with me all the time, even when it’s unnecessary and pointless I still argue back because of that fucking face you make. You’re like the death of me!” Gunwook shouted a little too loud, getting a couple looks.
“I like the way you want to achieve things that aren’t even beneficial to you—like who the hell needs to be declared the best pancake maker? No one but you, you have that same competitive fire as me, I thought it’d be hell if I met someone exactly like me but I love to talk and challenge you to anything.”
“Everyone might hate when we argue because it’s annoying and a distraction but I love it, because of that stupid pout you put on.”
Y/n was silent. She didn’t know what to say, she did not expect Gunwook to be so heartfelt to her. Her head slightly dropped down to look at the floor, scared she’d start crying if she looked him in the eyes.
“And I’m so mad that I didn’t kiss you that day. I was so embarrassed that I’d start to stutter and become all red because of a little kiss.” Gunwook’s hands palmed each side of her cheek so the girl could lock eyes with him.
“If I can—If you’ll let me. Can I kiss you?” Gunwook asked boldly, not as shy as he was the day Y/n asked him too. Y/n slowly nodded her head as a few tears rolled down her eyes.
The kiss was short but sweet. Their hearts were racing so fast it could almost malfunction.
“I can’t believe I’m crying in the library.” Y/n said, embarrassed as her head slightly went down.
“It’s normal to cry.” Gunwook wiped the girl's tears with the pad of his thumbs. “Does this mean we’re dating now?” Gunwook said, muffed into the girls hair as they were hugging.
“Yeah, I honestly don’t do this dating shit so I think so.” Y/n said nonchalantly which made Gunwook laugh. “Okay—Jeon Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?” Gunwook said as he pulled himself away from the girl to get a good look at her.
“If I say yes that means you have to admit that I’m better academically than you.”
“You are academically better than me, Jeon Y/n.”
“Then, yes.” Y/n stood on her tippy toes and pecked the boy's cheek.
The two decided to keep their relationship hidden from everyone so they could just enjoy each other's time and company without any whispers, rumors, or teasing.
It was going really smoothly. They two had unexpectedly not been awkward about it. They had to make up random excuses on why they couldn’t hang out because they two had scheduled meet up’s and dates.
The only person that did know about the two was Hayun. Hayun didn’t even go to the same school as the two so they didn’t mind telling her.
Gunwook and Hayun got along well and Y/n really liked that. She liked that Hayun liked Gunwook and Gunwook liked Hayun. The two would sometimes gang up on Y/n, she didn’t like that but she liked that the two had gotten close and have a good relationship of their own. After all, her little sister and her boyfriend are probably the people she adores the most in life.
It was hard for her to hide it from Hiyyih, especially since that’s her best friend and she can notice when something is different. She noticed how Y/n had been much happier and was glowing with positivity.
Gunwook knew how hard that must’ve been for her so he agreed to not tell Gyuvin or Dayeon.
Either way the friends would figure out the truth themselves. Or they would catch them secretly kissing one day.
And that they did! They were not that surprised, they had started suspecting it when the two were not available at the same time.
The teasing lasted for about three weeks.
“I almost forgot they were together.” Gyuvin audibly gagged at the sight of the two sitting at a booth with their hands on each other. “Get used to it.” Gunwook threw a fry at his friend as he sat down next to Dayeon and Hiyyih who were squeezed into the seats in front of them.
“I think it’s kind of cute. How they used to despise and hate each other but now they’re all lovey dovey with each other.” Hiyyih said. “Lovey dovey? When Gunwook went to the bathroom she literally called his shirt ugly.” Dayeon said with a tone of disbelief.
“What—you said I looked cute today.” Gunwook gasped and looked at the girl on the side of him. “Because you are cute! The shirt just isn’t.” Y/n smiled cheekily.
“You’re such a hater. You love to hate me.”
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crocuta1 · 5 months
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ITS C4LL13 DAY!!!!!
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I chose 12 Splatfest themes from each game that I liked the most and drew callie in them! I chose 6 fests from Splatoon 1 (because that was callie's debut game), 4 fests from Splatoon 2, and 2 fests from Splatoon 3.
Order + Explanation:
Cats vs. Dogs: I drew Callie as Izutsumi from Dungeon Meshi because I like the show, and I didn't really know what to draw other than Judd, and I thought that was boring.
Burger vs. Pizza: I based the drawing off of that one image of the guy telepathically lifting the pizza in Photoshop. I THOUGHT IT'D BE FUNNY IM SORRY!!!
Past vs. Future: This drawing was entirely self-indulgent because I just projected my childhood love of the Mesozoic Era onto the funny squid girl from that one nintendo game.
Pokémon Red vs. Pokémon Blue: Self-explanatory. I just really like Pokémon.
Perfect body vs. perfect mind: I was obviously going to make a Jojo ref, I love Jojo. JJBA refs aside, I'm shocked callie doesn't canonically have at least a little noticeable muscling?? She mains rollers???
Love vs. Money: Truly the question of all time. Anyways, I like Calf1sh.
Sci-Fi vs. Fantasy: This is me paying homage to my favorite movie ever, Alien. The funny little guy looking at Callie is a Xenomorph, and ain't it just the cutest little guy ever?
Squid vs. Octopus: She was definitely on team Octopus, don't lie.
Super Mushroom vs. Super Star: I chose this theme in particular because I like Super Mario bros an UNHEALTHY degree
Chaos vs. Order: This one is based on the Splatocalypse fest art. She was already shown to be on team Chaos, so I just had to figure out how to draw pearls dumbass Princess Cannon. I HATE IT!!!
Zombie vs. Skeleton vs. Ghost: Okay, im going to be really honest. I didn't really know what to do for this one. So, I just drew Callie in her Splatoween costume.
Friends vs. Family vs. Solo: I felt it would have made the most sense for her to be on team family, just because we know she speaks highly of them throughout the games.
Anyway, now that this is over, I'm never picking up a pencil again!! My wrist burns with the intensity of a trillion stars.
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Before You Go
Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: Reader is a grad student in college trying to work hard for her degree, but a certain green eyed stranger keeps showing up and turns her life upside down. Will she push him away? Or will she finally realize that he’s not going anywhere? (I’m so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Age Difference (Reader is early to mid-20's and Dean is probably early 30's)
Word Count: 5.5K (I have an addiction don't judge me)
Warnings: Some swearing (once or twice), mentions of sex (not explicit at all), implied sex, self-deprecating thoughts (Dean),  Dean might be a little bit OOC.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. I’m not going to lie, this one is a little self-indulgent. This is only my second supernatural fic, so please be gentle. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.
Masterlist
Part 2
********************************************
"Did you understand anything from that lecture?" Tim asks nudging your shoulder.
 The sour smell of beer and sweat fades in and out of your nose as you make your way to the Science building through the mass of students on the way to the football game. It was a Thursday night, Thursday night for everyone else meant tailgating, cheap beer, and face paint, but Thursday night for you meant four hours in the anatomy lab surrounded by the oppressive smell of formaldehyde and bent over a table examining the internal intricacies of the human body.
It wasn’t unwelcome, you knew what you signed up for when you decided to go to medical school, but you still wished that the lab was earlier in the day instead of at 6 pm.
The air is filled with the dull throb of energy, pulsing with the music from speakers all over campus, and through the throngs of people that pass you on the way to the stadium. The buzz of excitement in the air vibrated through your nerve endings. If you paid attention to how well the football team was doing, you would have known that tonight was the championship, but the closest you got to pigskin was the bag of pork rinds in your backpack and the occasional football player that asked you for help finding research materials during your shifts at the library.
"Nope." You reply jostling past a group of guys toting a giant stuffed pig wearing jersey of the school’s rival while they catcall some girls up ahead dressed from head to toe in bright red.
"Then why did you keep nodding?"
"Because Professor Drake was staring right at me!"
"You didn't have to make eye contact."
"It's a little late for that don't you think?" You smile up at him. He's taller than you, with dark hair falling forward into his glasses and a lean build. "But it's alright, I'll just binge watch YouTube videos."
Tim laughs adjusting his backpack over his shoulder. You had been lab partners since your first year, randomly assigned and forced to collaborate, but after many late night study sessions and mental breakdowns, Tim was one of your only friends.
“You seem to spend a lot of time on YouTube." He smiles.
"It's free education."
"Seems ridiculous to pay all this money just to learn it on YouTube."
"If YouTube handed out degrees for watching videos I’d be a doctor by now. I’d probably also have a degree in culinary arts.” You look down to check the watch on your wrist. You were both running late for lab. Dr. Welsh hated it when students were late, in fact, he was notorious for locking the door. Each week there was always some poor soul that banged on the door for entry, but Dr. Welsh knew no mercy. One time, you witnessed another student attempt to sneak in through the window an hour late. Dr. Welsh made them go back out the way they came, despite the lab being on the third floor.
At least the student brought a ladder with him.
“Culinary arts?”
“I like pie. Plus baking helps me cope with my stress.” You knock into his shoulder to shut him up. “What? You don’t watch anything weird on YouTube?”
“I usually start watching videos to understand the lectures and suddenly it’s been 7 hours, it’s 3 am and I’m watching a timelapse of metal rusting.”
“We’ve all been there buddy.”
"Hey doll-face!" You hear from somewhere behind you, but you ignore it, believing it to be another group of guys who splash beer over the sidewalk.
You glance down at your watch again.
"We're not going to be late." Jake says sensing your anxiety. "We've got 5 minutes."
"Early is on time, on time is late, late is inexcusable." You sing-song.
"Dr. Welsh embroider that on a pillow for you?"
"No it’s just-"
Someone grabs your backpack and pulls you back a step. What the- You whirl around prepared to cuss out a drunken frat boy, but you weren't expecting Dean Winchester.
"Dean." You say in surprise.
He looks better than you remember. Dean's wearing a red flannel covered by a black jacket, his hair tousled just the right amount to look effortless, his green eyes crinkled around the edges as his mouth pulls into a smile that makes your knees weak.
Your relationship, if you could even call it that, began your first week of classes, two years ago. You had just moved into your apartment and met your new roommate, but instead of going out to the new student mixer with her, you decided to stay in and unpack. It was past midnight when you heard a commotion in the apartment next door and when you opened your front door to investigate, you found Dean in the hallway leaning against the wall. His clothes were torn, he had a knife in his hand, blood was soaked through the front of his shirt, but when his eyes met yours, you weren't afraid. He looked so broken, so small that you had to help him. So you pulled him into your apartment and stitched him up the best you could, while he tried to lie about how it happened and explain why he looked like he'd been through a blender. Dean had never been good at lying to you, not even then. He was also the biggest baby you had ever met when it came to wound care.
In the months that followed Dean continued to show up, each time with injuries less and less life threatening asking you to help him, until one day he showed up perfectly fine and continued to show up. You would spend every minute together for a few days and then he would leave like nothing happened, only to show up again in a few weeks and it would start all over again.  Sometimes you thought that he wanted more than just a few days together, but then he would just leave, not giving you any other explanation. You hadn't expected to fall for him as hard as you did, but each time he left it broke you. You found yourself hoping each day that he would show up, only to be disappointed when he didn't. Days would drag by fading into shades of gray until finally Dean would show up and everything went back to color, only to sink back into monochrome when he left. The last time you had seen him was a month ago, when you told him that you couldn't do this anymore and told him not to come back.
But now he was here, again.
"Hey Doll-face." Dean smiles wider.
You try to ignore how your heart stutters in your chest when he smiles at you.
"Do you know this guy?" Tim asks you taking a step forward to put himself between Dean and you.
Dean's eyes trace Tim, smile slipping into confident smirk as he sizes him up. He opens his mouth, but you interrupt whatever thought was about to come out.
"Unfortunately I do." You sigh. "Tim can you give us a minute."
"Sure. But-"
"I know." You say, understanding that he was going to remind you what time it was. "We won't be late."
"I'll be over there." Tim puts a healthy distance between the two of you, far enough to give you space, but close enough that he can see you.
Dean is still smirking at him. "Boyfriend?" His eyes flit to yours, amused.
"Lab partner." You adjust your grip on your backpack unsure what to do.
I said everything I needed to say the last time. I thought that was it. Did he think I didn't mean it?
You think about the last time he was here, when you told him that you couldn't do this anymore and when he finally left, how you skipped all your classes and stayed in bed for two days clutching a pillow to your chest and wishing that it was him. It had felt like the end. The end of whatever the hell this had been. Sometimes you wished that you had defined it the first time you slept together, wished that you had told him you didn't do that ever, that you didn't just sleep with people without feelings because you knew sooner or later it would end up like this.
Then again you knew that you always had feelings for him, since the moment you locked eyes with his the night you met.
"He’s cute. If you’re into that geeky kind of thing. Though you could always date Sam-"
"What are you doing here?"
"I was in the neighborhood. Plus I didn’t want to miss the big game.”  Dean's eyes flit to the mass of people swarming around you, shouting and singing as they stumble down the cracked pavement. The dark shadows of the buildings stretch long over campus, illuminated by the lamplights that line the sidewalks.
"You should have called"
"I did. You never pick up" He arches a perfect eyebrow.
"Most would take that as a hint"
"Well Sweetheart given my profession you not picking up made me worry."
By now you knew exactly what he did. Despite Dean not acting like he wanted a relationship, when all was quiet and it was just the two of you laying in bed he confided in you, told you things about his life that made you hold him close and wish that you could make him forget all about it. You loved those soft moments with Dean, when it felt like more and you could imagine that Dean wanted to be as wrapped up in you as you were in him.
Your heart clenches in your chest as you try to forget it all, forget the day he walked into your life, and forget how much you like him.
"I can’t do this with you right now, I’ve got a lab in 3 minutes." You turn towards where Tim is standing, prepared to leave.
"Come on you can blow off one lab.”  Dean grabs your backpack turning you back to face him. “We can go to the big game. You know I can’t say no to free beer-“ The look in his eyes is joking.
He doesn't understand.
You shake him off. "No I can't Dean. This is important to me. This is my life. I can't drop everything just because you show up out of the blue."
"It wouldn't be out of the blue if you picked up your phone." His smile dips into an attractive pout that makes it very difficult to think.
"Dean why are you here?"
"I told you, I was in the neighborhood-"
"We talked about this. I can't do this anymore."
"I remember you talking about it."
"Yes and I remember you leaving." You snap as the memory of the last time you saw him rises in the back of your throat. You think about the days that followed, when you couldn't focus and flunked a test. 
"Y/n-“ Dean sighs.
"Look, I like spending time with you, but I can't keep doing this to myself. You show up, we spend every second together for days, and then you leave. It would be one thing if we were trying to do long distance, but we’re not.  All I get is radio silence for weeks and then you show  up all over again like nothing happened, expecting to pick up right where we left off, and the cycle begins all over again."
"I don't go radio silent for weeks. It’s you that doesn’t pick up your phone or text me back.”
"Yes you do and I can't do it. I won't do it. Because every time you leave I wonder if it's the last time I'll ever see you and-" You take in a breath to stop the ball of emotion that lodges itself in your throat. "It does something to me. And I'm not saying that what you do is any less important than what I'm trying to accomplish here. I’m not telling you to stop hunting. But this is my life Dean, my future. And I don’t want to put that in jeopardy because you show up every few weeks when you’re feeling restless. I want more than a few days every few weeks. I want more and I'm worth more. And if you can't give that to me that's fine, but please stop coming around and so I can find someone else who can."
The expression on Dean's face shifts, it's no longer the playful smirk or attractive pout, it almost looks heartbroken.
But that can't be right. Dean doesn't see me that way.
You look at where Tim is waiting for you to avoid Dean's gaze. He’s looking down at the watch on his wrist and you can feel his apprehension.
"I've got to get to my lab." You turn away from Dean, but stop halfway to Tim. "It was good to see you Dean. I wish you the best."
As Tim and you begin to walk away, you can feel Dean's eyes on you the whole way up the stairs into the science building, but you refuse to turn back.
"Are you okay?" Tim whispers.
"I will be. Let's just go before Dr. Welsh locks the door." You mutter while pushing down the guilt that rose when you thought of how Dean looked when you walked away.
********************************************
Despite Dr. Welsh’s attempts to lock the door, you were far too angry with Dean to let another man stand in your way, so when you and Tim arrived to lab 10 seconds before the clock struck 6, you shoved your boot in the door before Dr. Welsh could shut it. And by some miracle he let you in. Maybe it was the murder in your eyes.
Tim had been stunned, you were usually more reserved, not quick tempered. But everything that happened with Dean rubbed you the wrong way.
You couldn’t decide if you liked him or hated him. Right now the hate was winning.
How dare he? You thought to yourself, hand clenching on the scalpel so tightly that Tim backed up. How dare he just show up again after I told him not to?
“Y/n, are you okay?” Tim had asked.
“I’m fine. Don’t I look fine?” You’d snapped at him.
Even Dr. Welsh had given you a wide berth through lab.
 After you cleaned up everything it was 10:26 pm, which meant you had a little time before your late shift in the library.
“Did you want to go see if that shawarma food truck is still parked around the corner?” Tim asks hesitantly.
“No. I’m just gonna go to the library and study before my shift.” You mumble, shouldering your backpack and ignoring the urge to think about Dean.
Hopefully he took the hint and he’s gone. The thought brought a prick of guilt. Would that be the last time I ever saw him? Would those be the last words I ever said to him? You fight the urge to call him, to apologize, because the one thing you had wanted to say was that you liked him and you didn’t want him to go, you wanted him to stay in your life permanently. Sure long distance was hard, but for him it would be worth it.
“Oh.” Tim pauses for a minute. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Huh?”
“Well that Dean guy. You seemed kinda upset.”
“I was- am. But it’s okay, give me a few hours I’ll be over it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sure.”
“Make sure to send the link to that Timelapse of metal rusting.” You try to smile, but the joke falls flat.
“Okay.” Tim watches you go.
The library was only a 9 minute walk from the science building, but it still felt too long. You longed to be lost in your notes, to think of anything else other than Dean, but you couldn’t.
Why did he have to come back? Why couldn’t he have just let it lie? I was doing better- You think about the weeks that followed his last visit, a haze of homework, tests, and work. Well, I was doing okay.
The thrum of music is still in the air, but now less people pass you as you walk down the sidewalk, and the ones that do are holding hands and laughing. Your thoughts shift to Dean again.
I like him, but I have to get over him because it’s not going anywhere. You think about the first time you slept together. Maybe this is my fault, maybe I should have defined this from the beginning. I mean, I know the kind of person he is… That thought makes you pause. Sure the first few times you’d patched his wounds Dean was sexy and flirty, but all the times that followed he seemed, sweet, charming. It wasn’t that you spent every moment in bed, he had taken you out to dinner at the diner down the street, fought with you over the last slice of pie, took you to a bar for drinks  where he shamelessly beat you at pool, other times he waited for you to be done with your classes to make sure that you didn't have to walk home alone at night. You remember how mad he had been when you told him you did that, but gas was so expensive and it was easier to walk the four blocks.
Someone grabs your arm from behind, pulling you out of your memories, and you finally snap. Using the only self defense move you knew, besides S-I-N-G from Miss Congeniality, you knock off the hand and flip the offender over your shoulder prepared to spray them in the face with the mace in your pocket.
But then you realize who it is.
Dean frowns up at you from the ground. “When I taught you that, I didn’t expect you to use it on me.”
“Just be happy that I didn’t pepper spray you.” Your eyes narrow.
 Maybe I should. It would make me feel better.
“Would have been the highlight of my night.” He stands up from the ground brushing off the front of his clothes with a pointed look.
“Dean what are you still doing here?”
“I want to talk.”
“I’ve said all I need to.”
“But I haven’t.”
“I don’t care. You’ve heard what I need to say and I’m sick of you not listening.”
“Y/n-“
“Fine, I’ll say it one more time, but listen this time.  I've never, never depended on anyone else in my life. It's been me, me for a long time.” You poke your finger into his chest to emphasize your point. “Then you just sauntered in and changed everything. You made me care about you, worry about you, and you made me depend on you showing up in my life. Every time you leave it breaks me. Every time I’m in a funk for days. The last time you left, I cried for two days and I didn’t go to any of my classes! I'm trying to be serious about my life. And I can't do that if you show up every few weeks and make me expect something and then leave a few days later and I'm devastated.”
Dean’s eyes widen in surprise. “I didn’t know that.”
“I have to get over you Dean, and I can't do that if you keep showing up. So please just go.” You turn away from him.
His hand comes down on your arm again to turn you back to him. “I don’t want you to get over me.”
“What?”
“Do you think I like leaving you? Do you really think it’s that easy for me?” He looks hurt.
“It certainly seems to be when you walk out after a few days with a smile like it means nothing! Like I mean nothing-“ You fight the tears that burn against your eyes. You wanted to be something for him just as much as he was something for you, but you were afraid. You hadn’t depended on anyone since you graduated and moved away from home. You weren’t used to needing someone in your life this much.
"You mean everything!” Dean shouts grabbing your shoulders. “It’s me that means nothing."
You blink your eyes for a second, not comprehending what he’s trying to say. "Dean what are you talking about?"
"I didn't think you wanted that-" He looks down.
Your eyes trace the slump in his shoulders, the frown on his handsome face, and the way he won’t meet your gaze.
What is he talking about?
You try to think of a time that you’d seen him look so vulnerable, but the only time you imagine was the night you met.
"Wanted what?"
"Me.” Dean’s voice is a whisper.
"I'm confused."
His eyebrows are furrowed, lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m nothing like you.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You’re a little younger than me and you’re smart and you’ve got this bright future ahead of you. You don’t need someone like me dragging you down-“
“Someone like you? Dragging me down? Dean what are you talking about?" You can't comprehend what he's saying. You reach up to cup his cheeks, but Dean pulls back from you, glancing away.
“I didn’t go to a fancy college, I barely finished high school. I’ve spent most of my life in motel rooms  committing credit card fraud and trying not to die.  And then I met you. You’re funny and caring and so smart, and  I just thought that you would like it more if I came by every once in a while to relieve some tension. I didn’t think that you would want me to stay.”
He didn’t think that I would want him? That can't be right. Dean is so confident usually. You search his face and see the genuine vulnerability behind his green eyes.
“Are you serious?” You ask him.
He doesn’t say anything.
“Dean, you are smart-“
“Not the same way you are”
“Dean.” You can’t help but take his hand. Dean’s green eyes focus on yours for a second, wide and open. “You don’t have to go to college to be smart. You’re resourceful and you know more about supernatural creatures than anyone else. Even the top scientists and doctors in the world don’t believe in them and they went to stuffy old colleges and fight with one another over who’s smarter. I don’t care that you didn’t go to a fancy college. What you do is important, probably more important than what I’m going to do. You protect people, you’ve saved the world more than once, and sure maybe it’s not glamorous to some people but it is to me.”
His eyes widen in surprise.
“Have you thought that maybe I like spending time with you because you’re so different than the people I see everyday?” You ask him softly, squeezing his hand.
“No.” Dean mutters.
“I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I don’t have lavish wealthy parents bankrolling me. My dad is a mechanic. I work two jobs and send him money so I don’t have to worry about him. Sometimes I feel like a fraud. But when you show up I don’t feel like a freak. With you I feel like I don’t have to pretend, I can just be me. And I like you, a lot. This has never just been about relieving tension or sex for me. Ever. I mean it’s nice-“
“Just nice?” Dean raises an eyebrow.
You flush bright red. “I like spending time with you without that too. All the times we spent laying in bed or went to a bar or went to get food, and we talked were equally as wonderful for me. I like talking with you. I like hearing about your life. I just assumed that you had someone in every state that you visit when you’re feeling restless and that you didn’t want a relationship.”
“There’s no one else. Hasn’t been since I met you.”
Deans eyes lock with yours as you comprehend what he just confessed.
“Really?” Your voice is only a whisper.
“Fuck I’m not good at this romantic comedy shit-“ He mutters to himself shaking his head. “I like you too. I wish that I could be here all the time. I hate leaving you. It’s too quiet. When I’m not here all I do is think about you, what you’re doing, how your day was.”
Your entire body explodes with his words, heart beating so fast you think it’ll grow wings and take flight.
“When I was younger I used to laugh at Sam because he wanted a normal life, but with you I understand.  You’re so different than anyone I’ve ever met and it hurts me when I’m away from you.” Dean continues with a soft smile that makes you lose all feeling in your legs.
He takes your other hand. “I understand that what you’re doing is important and I’m not asking you to quit school. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance. I want to make this work. I know that long distance isn’t easy, but I want to try.” His eyes search yours, begging for a answer, but you can barely breathe let alone speak. You watch his face fall as he takes your silence as your answer. “But I understand if you don’t want to, because you are worth more. You’re worth more than a few days, than a phone call or a text. You deserve someone who can be here with you all the time. You’re worth more than what I can give you. And you shouldn’t have to settle-“
You grab the front of his flannel because you can’t think of anything to say and pull him down to you for a kiss. Pins and needles trace down your spine as his soft lips move against yours. He smiles against your mouth, folding you into him, his large hand on the small of your back just under your backpack causing warmth to shoot down your spine. You lose yourself in the way his body fits around yours
“I’m not settling.” Your hands cup his cheeks as you look deep into his eyes. “I never want you to feel that way, because you are worth a hundred of any man I have ever met in my life. And if it’s my cross to bear to make you understand that every day of my life, then so be it. Because I would be lucky to spend any amount of time with you. I don’t want anyone else. I just want you, Dean. I’ve wanted you since the day we met and every day after. And I’m yours as long as you want me.”
Dean’s smile breaks open something in the pit of your stomach and goosebumps scorch across your skin. “I can’t imagine not wanting you.” He presses his forehead against yours.
You stand there with his warm hand pressed into your back trying to think of another time that you felt even a fraction of what you feel for him. You think about your high school boyfriend, about a few of the guys you dated in during your undergrad years, but you come up with nothing. Because you can’t compare him to anyone else you’ve ever met. And it hurt you to think that Dean thought so little of himself in the grand scheme of things.
He leans down to kiss you again, pulling you against his chest so tight that everything blissfully falls away.
“Are you hungry?” He whispers against your lips after a minute.
“Yes, but my shift at the library starts soon. I’m there til 2.” You tighten your hands at the back of his neck, not wanting to let him go.
“Okay. I’ll go with you.”
“Dean it’s okay if you just want to go back to my apartment and sleep. I can give you the key-“ You notice the dark circles under his eyes, but you know that Dean wasn’t one to complain about being tired.
“It’s worth being tired if I get to see you.” Dean smiles. “But I’ll go get us some food, because I’m hungry too.”
“Don’t forget the pie.”
“Have I ever?” He brushes his lips to yours one more time, but you don’t remove your arms from around his neck. “You’re going to have to let me go doll.”
“Just 5 more minutes.”
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You spend the weekend together in your apartment. All those blissful moments together solidify the thought that this is real, that this time it’s going to be different. Every night going to bed with Dean tucking you against him and waking up every morning with your head on his chest feels like a dream, and you never want to wake. Every kiss and intimate moment between you feels like more, and you have to keep reminding yourself that it isn’t just sex, hasn’t ever been just sex. Dean wants to be there with you all the time, hold you close to him and share things with you. And this time you finally understand that you do help him forget and know that you do bring him as much comfort as he brings you.
When Monday comes and Dean has to go, you try not to think of it as the end.
Dean leans back against the door of the Impala, his hands on your hips, green eyes blazing in the sun, but it’s his eyes that warm you more than the sun’s rays.
"Sweetheart-" Dean begins, sensing what you’re thinking. His thumbs rub smooth circles against waist where your t-shirt rests.
"I know." You press your face into his flannel, inhaling the scent you ascribe to Dean. He smells like oil, leather, and the spicy scent of the soap he uses that tickles your nose.
"Hey." His free hand comes under your chin to raise your gaze back to his. "I promise I'm gonna come back. I promise that we're going to make this work. It’s going to be different.” He cups your cheek, eyes soft and understanding.
“I know, but you’re still leaving.” Your tighten your arms around his chest.
“I wish I didn’t have to. But Sam called, he needs me-“
“I know.” You breathe.
You don’t want Dean to feel any worse than he does about leaving, especially when you remember what he said to you a few days ago, about you deserving more and about how he wished he could be more for you. Deep down you know that both of you are determined to make this work, so you put on a smile.
 “It’s okay.” You gently rub his back.   “You’ll be back in 2 weeks and I’ll be on spring break in a month.”
“Does that mean I’ll get to see you in a bikini?” Dean grins.
“You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Hmm. Well until I see you-“ He raises his right hand from where it rests on your hip to remove the large silver ring from his finger. "Don't panic, it's not an engagement ring." Dean's smile breaks you a little.  "Just me promising that I'll come back, that I'll call and text you so much that you'll be sick of me." He slides the ring onto your thumb, the weight comforting.
"I could never be sick of you."
“Just you wait.” He winks, holding your hand to his chest. “I bet I can prove you wrong.”
“I welcome the challenge.”
The kiss goodbye is bittersweet, but you hold yourself together, refusing to cry as Dean gets into his car and leaves. You watch the Impala disappear around the corner, taking your heart with it, but just as it does your phone rings.
“Hello?”
“I miss you.” Dean’s voice fills the line and this time you can’t stop the tears.
“I miss you too.”
“I promise I’ll be back in two weeks.”
“Okay. Please be careful.” You remember all the stories he's told you over the time you’ve known him, all the horrible things that happened to him and Sam. Sometimes you wish he hadn’t, because you can’t help but worry.
“I’m always careful.” You can hear him rolling his eyes.
“As the person who has spent the past 2 years patching you up, I can say with certainty that you are not always careful.”
“Then I promise to be more careful than usual.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” The wind picks up, pulling your hair from the ponytail at the back of your head.
“I’ll call you when I make it back to the bunker.”
“Good.”
“Bye y/n.”
“Bye Dean.”
Your gaze drops to the heavy ring on your thumb and you hold tight to the hope and belief that this time is different, allowing the memories of the past few days to brush away any doubts that threaten the thought of what the future will bring.
********************************************
Thank you so much for reading!  I am considering doing a series with this reader and Dean, but let me know what y’all think!
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kyleoreillylover · 1 year
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The Bloodline x Fem!Reader
Summary: What's it like being the female member of The Bloodline?
A/N: The Bloodline is one of my favorite factions, so I need to curb my love for them by writing this! Hope ya'll like it!
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Since you are the youngest, by default they are very protective of you. It can be suffocating at times- and causes a lot of arguments-but you know they mean well by it.
Aside from Roman, you were the talker of the group. You had the devils tongue and a pretty face- so manipulating others came very easy to you. You and Paul surprisingly formed a friendship with each other, he was kind of a mentor to you and the both of you constantly plotted new schemes and plans to punish your opponents. The audience lived for your interactions and everyone on the roster knew if the two of you were alone that trouble was brewing for them.
Jey, Jimmy and Solo were your personal guard dogs; always being at ringside for your matches, helping you when your opponent had the upper hand, constantly being at your side during interviews, when all of you were backstage. Jey and Jimmy would shieldyou from the brunt of Romans anger, walking you to your car after the show was over to make sure you are safe. You are their little sister, and they will do anything to protect you from the harsh realities of this world.
Solo especially, the two of you are closer in age and you are closer to him than with your other brothers. He will always keep an eye out for you, making sure you are comfortable and that no one bothers you. If you tel him anyone messes with you he will without a doubt beat their ass himself, and if it is a woman he will verbally beat them and intimidate the shit out of them.
You are like the Rhea Ripley of the group, dominant as hell and making sure that your boys are dominant as well, no matter what takes. And by extension, that means you always interfere in their matches unless they specifically ask you not to. You always laugh and taunt their opponents when they go to hit you after you attack them only to realize that they can't.
And they do the same for you. Obviously they won't hit your opponents, but hitting them with a title or a chair doesn't count, right?
If Roman isn't there (which let's be honest, half the time he isn't on Smackdown) then you act as the leader. It is natural to you, you are already abrasive and everyone backstage is intimidated by you, so there's no problem.
If anyone messes with your family, they have hell to pay from you. It doesn't matter if they are a man or a woman, they are stay on the injured list for a long time either way.
If any woman is dumb enough to insult you or anger you in any way, you control your anger for the most part because you enjoy to make them sweat and wait for your revenge. It is more fulfilling making them scared and to make them watch their back than to unload all your anger on them at once.
Since Jey and Jimmy would shield you from the brunt of Romans anger, the two of you didn't really butt heads at all. But if you guys did argue, all hell would break loose.
The two of you were mirrors of each other; power hungry, manipulative, spiteful, willing to do anything and everything to stay on top. But unlike him, you had loyalty, which was the basis of all your arguments. You hated the way he treated Jey, the way he would belittle him at every turn just because he was right about Roman all along. Nothing was off limits during an argument, and the only way it ends is if the both of you put away your pride long enough to put it behind you.
You might’ve been the meanest person on the roster, but ironically you were the one your family went to if they needed comfort. When Romans mind games were too much for Jey, you were a place of solace for him, letting him hug you and cry into your shoulder, let him release his pent up emotions. You distracted Jimmy by making him laugh with your inside jokes and sarcasm whenever he felt overwhelmed. Solo rarely came to you, but when he did, no words were needed, only a hug and the company of one another. If Roman was stressed out about a match, you would take charge and make sure he had nothing else to worry about that would make him even more stressed.
it's not just the women who were intimidated by you-it was the men too. And not just because you had 4 guard dogs always looking over you, though that was a very good reason. You were the Rhea Ripley in the Bloodline for a reason. You didn't hesitate to beat a mans ass or have a match with them if they were being an idiotic pest. Reginald and Tozawa unfortunately had to learn that the hard way :)
If you got hurt from the boys' opponents, just know they are putting them six feet under. One time Drew accidentally clamored you when you shielded Roman from him, and the twins and solo made sure he couldn't walk on his own two feet and had to be stretched out by medical.
You were a famous figure on social media, so you were constantly annoying one of your brothers or cousin to take pictures of you. They would pretend to be annoyed but actually didn't mind it, especially when you would get invited to a event or premier and would bring them along.
You hate losing, and when it does happen (which is rare) you would shut everyone out, letting yourself wallow. Roman’s disappointment didn't make anything better. So Jey and Jimmy would bring you some food, crack some jokes and wait until you talked. If you didn't talk, they'd bring in Solo and leave the two of you alone. Solo wouldn't even need to say anything, he just hugs you and lets you cry into his chest and release your anger and sadness. After your finished crying, he would wipe your tears and you’d give him a thankful watery smile. He’d smile back at you and take you to get your favorite ice cream :)
All in all, you were the pillar of The Bloodline, the one who was keeping it stable, the one making sure it wouldn't fall apart. And eventually, you knew you would have to destroy it. But right now, you wanted to reap its benefits.
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ironunderstands · 5 months
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Here’s my comparison of Acheron, Aventurine and Ratio that I made in 2.1 which I forgot to upload here lol, I would like you to know my thoughts then because OH BOY HAS THIS AGED WELL
Aventurine, Acheron, Ratio and what the Nihility means to them
(Inspired by a convo I had with @aoxizu on Tumblr!)
The ending scene of the 2.1 update (the one featuring the black hole) is perhaps one of my favorite in all of fiction. I genuinely adore the way it was done and what it says about both the characters and life itself. This game has THEMES and by god did they come through then. So, I want to go over why I love it so much, and why it’s such a vital moment for Acheron, Aventurine and Ratios characters.
First, some context. Prior to Aventurine’s and Acheron’s conversation, Aventurine was taking the riskiest gamble of his life. Prior to the confrontation between him, Acheron and the Astral Express, Aventurine set up a plan to try and get to the secret at the heart of Penacony, as well as provide a ruse for Topaz and Jade to do, well whatever they planned on doing, the ending scene says they came there to “harvest”, so in 2.2 I assume we will find out what exactly that entails.
In order for this plan to work, Aventurine needed his cornerstone and to trick Sunday, so pre-2.0 he went to Dr. Ratio to include him in this plan, and set up a fake betrayal to fool Sunday and allow him to keep the Aventurine stone, with the Jade and Topaz stones also being acquired pre-Penacony. We know this because of Aventurine’s conversation with Topaz post 1.4 Belabog mission in which he requests her help in Penacony, something which we didn’t get confirmation on whether or not she accepted until 2.1, in which it’s revealed that one of the Cornerstones in the box is Topaz, meaning when they got confiscated in 2.0 she had already accepted his offer (we can assume a similar situation for Jade). 
Essentially, everything had been going according to plan for IPC (even if Aventurine was absolutely not having a fun time during it), Ratio even says as much, stating that the IPC is pleased to hear of his death sentence, so that part of the confrontation was already predetermined. This leaves Aventurine with one final gamble, hoping the Astral Express and Acheron take the bait, and that they will try and stop him from destroying the entire dreamscape, which if Acheron acts on it, he could entire the true dreamscape to find the truth, as only an emanator could break through the power of the harmony. 
Luckily for Aventurine, the gamble pays off and Aventurine does indeed draw her blade, both stopping him and sending them both into another plane entirely, it’s there in which one if my favorite scenes in fiction ever occurs. 
You see, even if Aventurine planned this all from the start, he hasn’t exactly been having a fun time while doing it. Being sentenced to death and then slowly hallucinating on Harmony sh1t until the manifestations of your past self and your present doubt and insecurities come to haunt you isn’t exactly fun for anyone, especially Aventurine. 1) Because his backstory is horrifically tragic and being faced with a reminder that you will never feel secure or valued or truly happy would be enough to erode away the psyche of anyone 2) A version of himself which claims to be his future, but is more like a personification of how much Aventurine doubts and hates himself. It’s even more telling that this isn’t the first time he has talked to this version of him, in fact it saved his life several times, meaning one of Aventurine’s driving motivations is his own self loathing. 
A trait that on the surface you don’t think he would have, Aventurine plays the role of the confident, unflappable gambler who always wins, when in reality his other hand is under the table, clutching his chips for dear life (something I quite literally paraphrased from the game). 
Therefore, going into this conversation, Aventurine is more relieved than anything, yet another one of his gambles paid off, but now he will have to see how to go from there, and that’s when Acheron’s advice comes in. She’s not stupid, and immediately recognizes that he won (or at least got what she wanted), and that killing him is meaningless, it’s not his time yet. However, what Aventurine is really focused on is the fact that out of all the emanators he could have come across, the one he faces now is an emanator of nihility.
And well, in the face of overwhelming nihility, one’s own value comes into question yet again, and that’s something Aventurine doesn’t even need the aeon for to ask. So, he talks to Acheron, as IX isn’t exactly going to answer, but she might know. Now, I’m just going to lay out the dialogue (then explain it obviously) because it’s genuinely amazing. 
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Aventurine starts out by asking Acheron if she is an emanator of nihility, and I find her response to be really interesting. She doesn’t view herself as someone chosen by IX, as nihilism (the feeling of meaningless) envelops everyone equally, but she has simply walked in their shadow longer, tainted on the feeling. This leads Aventurine to question if this is the end, as if life has lost all meaning, in the face of overwhelming nihility, would that mean he’s dead?
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Luckily Acheron immediately disagrees, stating that this is merely a manifestation of IX, not the end (he’s not dead guys idk how anyone can think that). However Aventurine still questions if his death has been determined, but Acheron doesn’t promise it. She mulls over his plan and and Aventurine asks her why she thinks he did it, and Acheron believes it was to find a secret deeper than the dream “deaths: the Real Penacony. He wonders how she found out, and Acheron says it’s the trailblazer’s identity which allowed her (and Aventurine) to come to this conclusion (we don’t yet know how this happened for either of them yet, but 2.2 should give answers).
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They continue, Aventurine reveals that he believes the barrier the family built using the power of the harmony was not just to keep death out but the nightmare that is the real dreamscape. That the Memory Zone is simply a vast island built atop a violent ocean with the barrier keeping whatever nightmarish secrets from washing ashore. In order to break through this barrier and find the real dreamscape, which is why he kept killing himself earlier in the dream, but to no  avail. When Sparkle gave him the hint, he realized it was referring to Firefly, someone who had seen the other side and survived it, even if she was unable to let others know if it. It wasn’t proof of the families wrongdoing, but it was suspicious enough for him to try and get Acheron to kill him, rather than try and find the Meme to recreate Firefly’s death. 
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Acheron points out just how insane this plan was, that if he hadn’t gotten lucky and crossed path with her, it wouldn’t have succeeded. Then, she commends him for playing it perfectly, pitting her perfectly against him and creating a plan that would be beneficial for the IPC no matter what happened, as even if he dies that would be great leverage. However, Aventurine disagrees with that last point, he truly can’t guarantee the IPCs success or even his own survival, that if she hadn’t drawn her blade it would have all be pointless. 
She’s doesn’t let him continue along this line of thought, what-ifs are pointless and he earned his ticket to the dreamscape. What matters now is what happens next, and Acheron asks him if he can return from the abyss (Childe reference?), but more importantly, she questioned if he has ever wavered, as even a gamble as seemingly insane as the one Aventurine just did seems to have not shaken him (from her POV, we know how terrified Aven was but everyone else minus maybe Ratio does). 
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Aventurine tells her perhaps the most fundamental aspect of his character; he gambles simply because he has no other choice, betting on everything because he has nothing else to lose. Acheron tells him to wake up from this “dream” (aka find the true dreamscape), and she presumably goes to leave.
However (and this is my favorite part of the scene), he asks her one more question before she leaves, thinking she might know the answer as a pathstrider of nihility, “Why are we born in this world if it’s just to die?”
Her response is the best possible way you could answer this question. Acheron is an emanator of nihility, but she doesn’t think life is meaningless. The feeling of emptiness and pointlessness envelops everyone equally and that’s exactly why the nihility is pointless. It doesn’t matter that nothing matters, and we aren’t born into this world just to die. 
Aventurine still worries though, after all if the dice of fate will always roll to the same conclusion, then destiny is predetermined, so why struggle? Why does it matter?
Her answer again is not one he would expect, but one that absolutely makes sense. Acheron says the answer has been with Aventurine throughout his entire life and journey on Penacony, and that he’s already somewhat realized it. Aventurine said himself that sleep is a rehearsal of death, but people aren’t ready to welcome death, which is why they sleep to get a taste of it. Sleep is much like death, a realm of unreality in which anything might be possible within the dreams that define its existence. Death itself is an unreality, and nobody truly knows what it’s like to die, but dreams are the closest we might ever get before the end. Like Acheron says, in a way, dreams are just a preparation for death, a practice before it can be welcomed. 
However, much like how dreams can contain anything, even if we cannot choose to experience them or not, life itself is full of choices, regardless of if the ending is determined or not. Acheron understands that there are an infinite amount of things people cannot change before the end, but there are choices you can make up until it. Death is inevitable, but the life you live before it isn’t. This is what the words in red mean, both here and in my opinion, in general. 
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Acheron reminds the trailblazer to make the right choice when time comes for it, in our first meeting with her. However, I don’t think the path we choose matters, but rather the the fact that we chose at all. Now the next paragraph will include a minor discussion of 2.2 leaks, so skip to the next slide if you don’t want to hear it. 
Sunday is getting a bossfight in 2.2, and it’s highly theorized that he works/believes in Ena the Order, especially because it looks like it’s their hand he’s touching in that one animation of the bossfight. Now here’s the thing, Order as a concept Chooses For You. I think the trailblazer making a decision is the thing that will save them and the rest of the gang, as within the face of an entity defined by limiting choice and free will, choosing to well, choose will save them (us?) and perhaps be the thing that gets the trailblazer acknowledged by the Harmony, a concept greater than Order. 
Anyways, after she says that, Acheron leaves Aventurine, saying the answer to his question was from his friend.
And Aventurine pulls out the vial from Dr. Ratio
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The vial telling him that the only impossible thing in the dreamscape is dormancy (meaning the secrets from before are destined to rise and destroy the “island” that is Penacony.
The vial telling him to stay alive and wishing him the best of luck, which in the Chinese version is: 
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Ratio answered both of Aventurine’s questions. The physical one, the one that pertains to Aventurines goals in Penacony, informing him of a vital aspect of the dreamscape that will help him win his gamble. But more importantly, he also answered Aventurine’s emotional one. What is the point of living? There is no real deeper meaning but to stay alive, survive and keep on living, because at the end of the day, that’s the only choice Aventurine can make, and that’s the one Ratio wants him to make.
Ratio Gives Aventurine A Reason To Live. 
Aventurine says that he has nothing left, his family is gone and he has nobody and nothing to fall back on which is why he gambles. But Acheron proves him wrong, he isn’t alone, she calls Ratio his “friend”, says that he’s the solution to his doubt. Someone caring about Aventurine is what saves his life, he walks into the massive black hole unafraid not because he holds some secret power or technique or trick, but because someone cares about him, and that someone taught him that caring about himself is enough. Aventurine didn’t need the power of an emanator to survive the true dreamscape, he only needed a friend, and the will to keep going that he realized from them. 
This is the true meaning of nihility, not that  Aventurine says that he has nothing left, his family is gone and he has nobody and nothing to fall back on which is why he gambles. But Acheron proves him wrong, he isn’t alone, she calls Ratio his “friend”, says that he’s the solution to his doubt. Someone caring about Aventurine is what saves his life, he walks into the massive black hole unafraid not because he holds some secret power or technique or trick, but because someone cares about him, and that someone taught him that caring about himself is enough. Aventurine didn’t need the power of an emanator to survive the true dreamscape, he only needed a friend, and the will to keep going that he realized from them. the universe is meaningless, but that regardless of if it has one or not, it doesn’t matter. It’s this realization that saves Acheron from losing herself like other emanators, it’s this realization that allows Aventurine to cross the event horizon of that manifestation of IX, and it’s this realization that I believe is why Dr. Ratio was never acknowledged by Nous: he was already treading the path of nihility without even realizing it. 
Now this is where my conversation with @aoxizu comes in, and I’m just gonna paste directly what they said because I think it’s amazing and everyone should read it, more importantly it’s what inspired this slideshow in the first place.
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Ratio tells Aventurine to live despite everything because that’s the only thing he can do. It doesn’t matter how absurd life is, or how meaningless it all seems, choose to live anyways, because all you have are choices, and it doesn’t matter if they lead to some grand outcome or future or whatnot. To Ratio, life doesn’t, and shouldn’t care about that. Existence doesn’t need to make sense to be worth it, and that’s a sentiment both me, the characters and the og poster share.
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Acheron is a lot like Ratio, she chooses to live despite having discovered the meaninglessness of the universe. In an existence seemingly black and white she chooses to paint the world red with her choices, accepting its reality and choosing to forge her own path rather than succumb to the madness. That’s why she says in her trailer, “there is no other choice but to move forward” and that’s because there really is no other choice, the universe doesn’t have some grand plan for anyone and you can’t turn back time to change anything, so all you can do is move forward.
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My contribution! I’ve already kinda started but I do want to talk about how Ratio could be treading the path of nihility, but I’ll let this amazing post finish.
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So yeah, amazing post, and I don’t think I could reword what they said in a better way than they did. Bringing up the philosophical aspects of this scene makes me really happy because they are so prominent, but most people aren’t really aware enough to notice. Absurdism is one of the driving inspirations behind the dreamscape, and it’s nice to see someone else besides you (see: my slideshow about Penacony and its American influences for an elaboration on this) bring it up. Honestly I think that philosophy fits Ratio far better than any of the Ancient Greek stuff you try to slap on him. Sure he obviously has the inspirations, but he’s closer in spirit to philosophers from the 1700s to now than them, a reinterpretation of Greek scholars rather than a copy of them. 
And this is where my idea that Ratio is a pathstrider of nihility (and he doesn’t even know it yet) comes in. He doesn’t view knowledge in the same way that pathstriders of Erudition do; knowledge for knowledges sake has never been something Ratio has cared about. Knowledge means something to Ratio because it allows people to better themselves, not because it has some sort of inherent value. That’s why he’s so determined to spread it, he wants everyone to reach their fullest potential, and dedicates his life to doing so. Regardless of if the universe has meaning or not, that doesn’t mean people can’t try and live their best lives, and that’s the philosophy Ratio truly believes in.
Moreover, this is why it’s so meaningful that Ratio is the one to help Aventurine, he’s teaching him something Ratio himself learned long ago when he got rejected by the Genius Society. Despite all of Ratio’s intellect and qualifications, he will never be good enough for them because he simply doesn’t view knowledge in the way they do. But instead of this meaninglessness (nihility) consuming him, Ratio dedicated his life to doing what brought him meaning and validation rather than searching for some hidden answers from the universe (specifically Nous).
And it’s not like he just accepted it happily. Ratio still wants their acknowledgement, and it still hurt (and hurts) him a lot to not have it, which is why I think he unknowingly strides the path of nihility. To Ratio, his view on knowledge is simply how knowledge is, and the fact that Nous will never perceive it in that way because his philosophy is more nihilistic than it is erudite is something Ratio might never come to terms with. But that’s ok. The point is that it’s ok, Ratio doesn’t need to be acknowledged or to understand the truth of the universe to be happy or do well for himself. Our universe might mean nothing and yeah that can and will suck, but existence is more valuable than some grand cosmic plan, and even if you don’t realize it, choosing to live is enough.
Continually, this reminds me of the conversation Aventurine had with his hallucination self, in which he told real Aventurine that him and Ratio are very similar. In a way, they are, both struggling to find meaning in their lives, and Ratio helps Aventurine find meaning in his without really even knowing how. Sure the note was meant to keep Aventurine going, but Ratio caused Aventurine to come to a conclusion that probably won’t find Ratio for a while. He helped Aventurine overcome nihility without even knowing it, without Ratio even realizing that THAT is the thing he has been struggling with, and the path he has been walking the whole time.
I really hope we get to see Ratio again, and at the very least I want a story quest for him because I want to analyze his brain under a microscope. Him and Acheron need to meet asap I want more Ratio content idc if everyone else in the fandom hates him I love him and he’s my pookie bear and I will write 3039493494 things about him when it comes to me UGHHHH. Anyways I didn’t know how end this so this is the ending yaaayyy! I hope you liked it and if you have any thoughts let me know! 
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Og post over! That was a long ass read and past me was absolutely cooking up a storm, oh god did this age well and I was right about or close to right about a lot of shit haha. Anyways I really do hope you enjoyed reading this, and this will hopefully provide some needed context for my next posts on this subject. Also feel free to repost this onto other sites I’m very proud of it
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sapphire-writes · 1 year
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Holiday In The Hamptons
Part 3 of The Campaign
pairing: modern!Aemond x Reader
summary: You join the Targaryen-Hightower family in the Hamptons, determined to get back what Aemond took from you.
word count: 7.2k
rating: 18+/explicit (see details below the cut)
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warnings: p in v (explicit sex), oral (fem-recieving), edging, overstimulation, blindfold, restraints, fingering, rough s*x, degradation, begging, kissing, pussy slapping, choking, hand kink, finger sucking, alluding to some Daemon/Rhaenyra targcest, language
note: it's been a while! I have no words-- i was inspired and here is the monster I created, I hope you enjoy!
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You’d secretly hoped Rhaenyra would throw out the idea of a family outing after the debate with Aegon went sideways. She’d been graceful, smooth, and calculated as always. And Aegon?
Well, Aegon was Aegon. 
You suppose Otto Hightower had attempted to prep him. But it didn’t stop him from being a pompous asshole through the entirety of the debate. Interrupting, laughing, and dismissing all of Rhaenyra’s arguments with baseline claims of his own. It was hard to watch. 
And yet the public was eating it up. 
Funny, they called him. An arrogant, egotistical, narcissist. But funny. The media was far more forgiving of Aegon than Rhaenyra. You suppose that’s why Aegon made a better frontman than Aemond. He was awfully charismatic. 
Though you just know it was killing Aemond inside to not be the one behind that podium going head to head with Rhaenyra. A battle of wits is Aemond Targaryen’s idea of a great time. He wouldn’t have needed Aegon’s cheap tricks to win the debate. He probably could have bested her (though that killed you to admit). 
“Shrieks Through the Keep,” she read the headline on her phone as you sat in the back of the limousine on the way to the Hamptons, “Rhaenyra Targaryen snaps at Aegon Targaryen during last night’s debate, her reaction reminiscent of her predecessor Maegor Targaryen. Fucking ridiculous.”
Luke sits beside her, Joffrey beside him lost in his Nintendo Switch, furiously pressing buttons and cursing under his breath. Jace and you sit across from them, knees pressed together. You’ve been stiffer around him lately, ever since----
“You did wonderfully,” Daemon had insisted, squeezing Rhaenyra’s knee, “Bunch of stupid cunts.”
Rhaenyra clicks her phone and the screen dims before leaning her head back and closing her eyes. Luke reaches forward, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. 
“It’s only the first debate,” Daemon insists, “The others will be better.”
Rhaenyra lets out a pitiful laugh dropping her head into her hands, pressing her thumbs right under her brow bones. You’ve seen Aemond do the same thing when he’s stressed. Seven save you, can you stop thinking about that asshole?
“Can we talk about something else?” Rhaenyra asks, “Anything else.”
Joffrey pays no attention, his dark curls falling into his eyes, the faint sounds of his game echoing in the small space. Luke’s leg bounces nervously, his eyes darting to you, begging for some help. 
“What’s your favorite memory of Summerhall House?” you ask her, eager to change the subject to something else as well. 
The side of Rhaenyra’s mouth ticks upwards in a small, sad smile. She straightens up, leaning back against the leather seat. Her eyes look past you, searching for a memory. 
“My father brought me here when I was a child,” she tells you, “Every summer we’d come. Just the three of us.”
Daemon watches Rhaenyra carefully as she speaks; his violet eyes never leave her face. You wonder where Daemon had fit in on their family holidays. 
“My father hated the beach, hated it,” Rhaenyra continues through a chuckle, “But my mother loved the ocean. We’d spend hours at a time going back and forth. Swimming, drying out on the sand, going back to the water. Father would watch from the deck, always holed up with his models.”
Daemon takes her hand. You watch a pink blush begin to form on the apples of her cheeks, but she doesn’t pull her hand away. Your throat tightens. Aegon had his fair share of gossip present in the tabloids, but so did Rhaenyra. 
Not a rumor you hope has truth behind it.
But it’s hard to deny when it's happening right in front of you. Still, you remove your gaze from their intertwined hands and rest your head against Jace’s shoulder. 
“You miss him terribly,” Daemon says, thumb stroking the back of Rhaenyra’s hand, “I do as well. He’d be happy that you’re doing this. He always wanted the family together.”
Rhaenyra nods at his words, violet eyes glancing up at her Uncle’s face. He smiles at her softly before turning his head toward you and Jace. You meet his eyes for a brief moment before averting your gaze, heat rushing to your cheeks. 
When you look up, he’s still watching you. You force a tight smile which Daemon Targaryen does not return. He knows you know, your mind teases as a weight settles in your gut. You close your eyes, pressing your face against Jace’s neck inhaling the scent of his cologne. You feel his arm tighten around you. 
“Not long now,” he murmurs, and you hum in response. 
Though you pretend to be asleep for the remainder of the drive, you can feel the fiery gaze of Daemon Targaryen burning through you. 
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When you arrive at Summerhall House you’re greeted with laminated itineraries and Alicent Hightower-Targaryen waiting at the front door. She holds one out to you, her brown eyes warm and inviting, auburn curls hanging freely down her back, dressed in an emerald green silk dress that falls just below her knee. 
Though it's been half a year since the death of her husband she doesn’t look the part of a grieving widow. In fact, she appears more radiant than ever. The death of Viserys Targaryen suits her. Her eyebrows crease together as Daemon brushes by her, ignoring the handout. Her eyes move behind you, eyes searching for someone else.
“Where’s Baela and Rhanea?” 
Daemon stops at the decorative table, eyeing the bowl of fruit in the center. Ruby red apples lay piled atop a bed of pears, and fresh mandarins. He reaches for an apple, taking off his sunglasses while inspecting the shiny outer flesh.
“Baela is galavanting around Europe. Last I spoke to her she was in Greece,” he says, biting into the apple, “Rhaena is much too busy preparing for her LSAT to be bothered with this farce.”
Alicent prickles at that, her jaw clenching, and her shoulders straightening. 
“I’m tired,” Daemon announces.
“We’re supposed to have dinner,” Alicent calls as he begins his ascent up the staircase. Her words fall on deaf ears as Daemon continues down the hall until he is out of sight. She sighs, trying to hide her frustration as she turns back to you, “Can I get you anything? Something to drink? The espresso martinis are fabulous.”
Rhaenyra smiles politely, reaching out and squeezing Alicent’s forearm.
“None for me, I’m afraid I’m rather tired as well,” she admits, smiling bashfully, “I think I’ll tuck in for the evening.”
“Luke and Joffrey will share the beach room,” Alicent tells her, “Jace and…” she looks at you, as though remembering you’re present, “Y/N….you’re in the room at the farthest end of the second floor.”
You smile tightly.
“Thank you, Alicent,” you tell her, heading upstairs. As much as you want a drink, you’d rather not be stuck with forced polite conversation with Alicent. 
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The following morning is lights, camera, and action. Playing the role of a happy family is non-negotiable today. You meet everyone at breakfast by the pool, under the shade of the veranda. Mimosas, fresh fruit, omelets, and croissants greet you. You sit across from Daemon and Rhaenyra, as Jace pulls your chair out for you, reaching for a chocolate croissant. 
Otto Hightower sits at the head of the table, his gaze icy. You can tell he’s watching Daemon out of the corner of his eye, his tension palpable. 
“Aemond arrived rather late last night,” Daemon says, taking a bite of his omelet, “Though I’ve yet to see Helaena. Where is my niece?” 
You can’t help the rush of stupid warmth that rolls through you. He’s here. Absent at the family breakfast though. Dickhead. 
“Helaena should be joining us this evening,” Alicent says, sipping her mimosa, “I must’ve dozed off, was Floris with Aemond when he arrived?”
Alicent’s eyes are bright, lit up with curiosity. 
You wonder if they get along. It appears Alicent likes her, by the look in her eyes. Through the grapevine, you’d heard that mummy didn’t approve of Aemond’s previous fling. That ended rather quickly. Jealousy creeps through your veins; icy tendrils weaving up your spine. Jace meets your eyes smiling.
“D’you like your croissant?” he asks, his grin lopsided.
“Love it,” you tell him, returning his smile with a much colder one. 
Jacaerys Velaryon is nice. That’s about all there is to him. An easy man to have on your arm. Easily influenced. Easily manipulated. He has potential, for sure. You’d gotten the same look of approval from Rhaenyra that Floris undoubtedly got from Alicent when Jace had brought you home. 
“Believe he said something about her taking the next flight out?” Daemon says, eyebrows cinching together as he tries to remember, “Weather wasn’t cooperating. Something like that. We didn’t engage in further conversation.”
You bite your tongue so you don’t ask where he is. Luke is the one to broach the subject. 
“He coming out today?” he asks, referring to the yacht party planned later that afternoon.
“He’s resting now,” Otto informs Luke, “But everyone is expected to be there. On their best behavior.” He says the words pointedly, through gritted teeth.
You reach for your drink taking a long sip of the tart beverage. Rhaenyra cocks an eyebrow at Otto’s pointed tone, reaching for the water glass beside her plate and taking a sip. 
“Can I have one?” Joffrey asks, eyeing your mimosa.
“In your dreams,” Luke scoffs, causing the younger boy to pout. 
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The majority of the morning is spent lying by the pool. You’d put on your swimsuit as soon as breakfast ended, heading back down to get some sun. No sign of Aemond. He must be holed up in his room doing gods knows what. You can’t help the feeling of anticipation that curls in your belly. 
The yacht party is meant to happen that afternoon, and as time creeps closer you decide to take action. The intimate family gathering is not one you need to participate in any way, not like the upcoming party later in the week. There’s unfortunately no way out of that event. 
“I don’t know,” you tell Jace, “You know I get seasick, baby.” You don’t. 
“I don’t want you to get lonely,” he insists, “I’ll stay behind-”
“You go ahead,” you insist, “I’ll be alright. I have a couple of calls to make anyway and I can lounge by the pool.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive,” you tell him, placing a kiss on his cheek, “Seriously, have fun! Bond with everyone.”
Jace is reluctant but doesn’t argue. You wonder if he cares at all, deep down. 
Helaena greets you when she arrives, clad in dark green slacks and a white tank top, a cigarette hanging from her red mouth. You’d only been introduced once before, though you remember her vaguely, a year ahead of you back in school. She’d changed her hair recently, it was cut in a retro shag style, bangs in front of her eyes.
“Jace brought a friend,” she comments, walking towards you, hands in her pockets. 
You turn your head, still spread out in your chaise lounge one foot propped on the seat, an arm thrown under your head. 
“Surprised I’m still around?” you ask, noting the unashamed way Helaena’s eyes drag across your body.
“Nah,” she says, pulling her cigarette from her lips, “More surprised you’re still putting up with him.”
“Hmm,” you hum in response, “You bring anyone?”
“Why, you interested?” she teases, with a grin, “I’m not getting anyone involved with this shit show. You’ve the right idea, staying behind.”
“I don’t like boats,” you tell her.
Helaena drops her cigarette, stamping it out under her foot.
“Mhmm,” she says, eyes unconvinced, “Enjoy your alone time.”
You don’t answer as she retreats back into the house. You hear the muffled voices as everyone begins to leave for the party. Aemond doesn’t come outside, and doesn’t ask why you’re staying behind. You try not to let that vex you, but can’t help it. Sighing, you close your eyes as the sounds of distant voices fade, along with the car engines in the driveway.
Suddenly, an idea strikes as the sun begins to dip below the horizon no longer offering the heat from earlier in the day. Getting up from your spot, you throw on your cover-up and tread into the house. It’s silent, beside the gentle sound of the central air system. 
You need to find your necklace. The one Jace had given you. The one you’d so carelessly left behind during your last rendezvous with Aemond. Jace hadn’t stopped asking about it, and you just knew it gave Aemond some sick sense of power, holding that over you. 
You hurry up the stairs, padding down the hallway until you reach Aemond’s room. You’d heard Alicent mention last night which room he and Floris would be staying in. Taking a deep breath, you open the door. 
Aemond’s room is neat; just as you’d expected. His two suitcases were closed standing side by side at the foot of his bed. White pillows are fluffed to perfection; you doubt Aemond was the one to tend to it. His bedside table is bare save a lamp and a dog-eared book without a dust cover. The title remains a mystery. There’s a matching table on the opposite side with an empty silver dish and a small lap. 
Moving further into his room you stop in front of a large floor-length mirror, trimmed with gold, and spare a moment to shamelessly admire yourself. The Hamptons look good on you. From the afternoon spent in the warm summer sun, your skin already has a luminescent sun-kissed glow. You tilt your head, parting your lips slightly. 
Should’ve brought your phone with you; a selfie in this mirror would be worth a thousand words. You don’t suppose anyone will be back for hours. You can come back later for a little photo shoot. Your mouth quirks into a small smile at the thought of Aemond scrolling through Instagram and seeing you in his room. 
You know exactly how you’ll do it. On your knees, a hand toying with the strings of your bikini bottoms, plush thighs on full display. Your sheer cover-up dangling off of one of your shoulders revealing a delicious amount of skin your bikini top barely covers. Lips curved into a perfect pout.
You just need to find that necklace. 
That would be the icing on the cake. 
Peering into the attached bathroom you note all his hair and skincare products lined up in a neat row across the marble sink. You raise a brow at his perfectionism. 
Anal prick. 
You rummage through the drawers under the sink, most of them practically empty. A hair straightener, a hairbrush, a thin-toothed comb. 
No necklace. 
You growl in frustration slamming the drawer shut. Sitting back on your haunches you place a hand against your forehead. Maybe he didn’t even bring it, I mean, why would he?
You remember the look on his face, the stolen glances. That stupid fucking smirk. Your cheeks flush, warmth creeping down your neck.
He brought it. It’s here somewhere.
You tap your fingers against your knee, hand bouncing nervously. You need to keep looking. Rising from your spot on the floor you make your way back into the room, glancing around. Flinging open the closet doors you paw through suit jackets and trousers letting your hands dip into the pockets of each one. C’mon, it has to be here somewhere---
“What are you doing?” a cool, calm voice asks, sending a shiver down your spine like you’d been dosed in ice water.
Slowly, you turn, meeting the blue and purple eyes of Aemond Targaryen as he leans casually against the doorframe. 
He’s not supposed to be here. 
Yet, here he is. Dressed in gray slacks, and a black button-down pressed to perfection with not a wrinkle in sight. Green tie around his neck as though he’d just come from a meeting. He’s holding a legal pad in his left hand, a pen pinched between his thumb and forefinger. His silver hair pushed back out of his face, rounded glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. You roll your shoulders back and keep your chin up.
“Where is it?”
“Where’s what?” he asks, entering the room. He tosses the legal pad carelessly on the side table before reaching into his back pocket and removing his phone as well. Your eyes narrow as he rolls his sleeves up.
“You know what,” you tell him, tapping your foot against the floor.
Aemond releases a hum, still not answering. He lifts his glasses off of the bridge of his nose, letting them rest on top of his head. 
“Where is it?” you repeat, becoming more impatient with each passing second. 
Aemond doesn’t meet your gaze, instead, he takes a step forward. The bed is the only thing that separates you. He looks up at you then, violet and blue eyes staring into yours intently. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tells you, nonchalantly, “If you’ve misplaced something how is that my problem?”
“It is your problem,” you say through your teeth. Aemond brings his hands in front of his chest, the veins on the back of them prominent. You watch as he slowly removes a ring on his left hand, taking time to twist the silver band from his middle finger. 
Your mouth goes dry as he repeats the movement, twisting the metal that rests on his ring finger. That ring he wears nearly every day, stamped with the Targaryen family crest. He resumes his movements, focusing on the ring that remains on his right hand. A small silver band around his thumb. When it's free, he holds his hand out across the bed. 
An offering. 
You’re not sure what compels you to reach forward, holding your palm open-faced under his. He uncurls his fingers, rings falling into your awaiting palm. He hasn’t touched you and yet your whole body feels flushed. 
You close your fingers around the cold rings, pulling your hand away. Aemond jerks his chin, motioning toward the nightstand beside you. You turn, placing the rings haphazardly in the small empty silver dish. They clang loudly against it and Aemond stares at you disapprovingly.
“Are you going to give it back, or not?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest once more. 
“Why are you here?” he asks, ignoring your question and walking to the edge of the bed.
“I get seasick,” you lie to him as you did to Jace.
Aemond merely chuckles, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He reaches to the top of his head, removing his glasses, and placing them on his dresser. A lock of silver hair falls in front of his eyes as he turns back to you, mirroring your pose.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Believe what you want,” you snap, “What are you doing here?”
“I had work to finish,” he says with a shrug. Aemond’s hands drop to his belt, and he begins to undo it. “So I decided to stay behind.” 
The hairs on your arms stand up and heat rushes to your face, and the top of your chest. You suddenly become very aware of how trapped you are on this side of the room. You’d have to climb over the bed if you wanted to leave. 
You glance at the door as Aemond pulls his belt free of the loops of his slacks. A sharp whine echoes in the room as the leather rubs against the fabric. 
Your attention turns back on Aemond, you watch as he tosses the belt onto the bed. You swallow the lump beginning to form in your throat. 
Aemond takes a slow step, rounding the corner of the bed. You don’t say anything as he walks closer, nor when he brings a large hand to rest against your outer thigh. He’s barely applying any pressure, you can just feel the heat of his large palm against you. Your lips part slightly at the sensation. 
“What are you doing here?” he asks again, letting his fingers trail up your thigh, “Hmm?” His fingers curl under the strap of your bathing suit bottom, snapping it against your hip. You flinch slightly at the light sting. 
You inhale a deep breath, looking up at the chiseled features of his face. 
“I want my necklace back.”
The perfect pout of his lips curl at the edges, a satisfied smirk appearing. 
“Well then you’re going to have to work for it,” he tells you, his voice rough and commanding. 
To your despair, heat rushes to your core at the authoritative tone of his voice and the feeling of his hand still on your upper thigh. You hate admitting it, but you’d been thinking about that afternoon in the hotel ever since it had happened. Getting off to the memory of it, nearly every night. 
“We’re not doing this again,” you tell him as his opposite hand finds your waist. He swipes his thumbs against your hip bones, squeezing into the soft flesh. He’s so close, your crossed forearms graze against the fabric of his button-down. You shake your head, “I hate you.”
Aemond tilts his head back, not releasing his grip on you. Your arms uncross on their own accord, and you bring your hands to his tie. Your fingers work the knot, loosening it and removing it from his neck. You toss the green fabric onto the bed, moving to the buttons of his shirt. 
“Say it again,” he murmurs, fingers digging into you hard enough to leave bruises. He pulls you closer, his nose bumping against your cheek. 
“I hate you,” you breathe, working through all the buttons. Aemond chuckles darkly as you tear open his shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest. 
You drag your fingers down between his pectorals, tracing in between the muscles of his abdomen. They flex under your soft touch. Aemond releases your hips to shrug off his shirt, abandoning the material on the floor. 
You watch it pool at his feet, before his hand finds the back of your neck, pulling you flush against him, capturing your lips in a punishing kiss. It’s brutal; all clashing teeth and tongues as he keeps one hand securely on the back of your neck, the other tearing at the thin material of your coverup until it falls to the floor. 
His free hand drags down your side before settling on your ass; it’s so large he encompasses the cheek nearly entirely, squeezing the soft flesh harshly and dragging a gasp from your throat. He backs you up toward the bed, kissing you all the while. You can’t think when he kisses you, all you can focus on is the feeling of him. It’s nothing but hot, burning need pulsating through your veins. 
Aemond pushes you, none too gently, onto the bed before climbing on top of you. His hands roam down your body, your back arching at his touch. 
He leans back on his haunches, reaching for the belt. You can see evidence of his arousal straining against his slacks, his eyes hungrily raking over your scantily clad form as you gaze up at him through your lashes. 
“Wrist up.” 
You breathe heavily, before doing what he asks, placing both your arms above your head. Aemond loops the belt around your wrists, binding them to the metal rod of his headboard. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest, and the ache between your thighs grows. Aemond’s eyes flicker to your face as he tugs the bindings. The smirk that appears on his face says one thing.
You’re not going anywhere.
“You need me to stop,” he says, as he moves away from you, “You need to be untied. You want this to be over; you say keligon.” 
“What’s that mean?” you ask, your voice sounding breathier and more desperate than you’d have liked it to.
“It’s High Valyrian,” he tells you, “You say that, I’ll untie you. I’ll stop.” Aemond returns to you, grasping your chin in his hand, “What do you say if you want me to stop?”
You stare into his eyes, surprised by his seriousness. “Keligon.”
“Good girl,” he says, lightly tapping your cheek with his fingers as he releases his hold. 
Aemond reaches for his discarded necktie. He smoothes the material in his hands before bringing it to your face. Your eyes widen as you realize his intentions, but you make no move to stop him. You allow it. 
You want it. 
The tie sits perfectly against your eyes, blocking any semblance of light. All your other senses feel heightened, your skin feels electric. You can’t see him, can only feel the bed shifting from his weight as he moves above you, making sure it’s tied snuggly around your head. Suddenly, you feel his slender fingers, dragging down the strap of your bikini top, taking his sweet time before he reaches the knot that sits in the valley between your breasts. 
“Cute suit,” he murmurs, fingers fiddling with the knot, “You bring this one just for me?”
You can feel the material give, your breasts releasing back to their natural state as the knot comes completely undone. Aemond drags his fingers over the material lazily exposing your tits to him. He hums appreciatively as the cool air makes your nipples pebble. 
“I have a boyfriend,” you tell him, earning a chuckle. 
“You do?” he murmurs, dragging his fingers down your sternum, over the sensitive skin of your stomach. You take your lower lip between your teeth, skin erupting in goosebumps. You already want to pull against the restraints, wriggle, and thrash away from his teasing hands. 
“My poor nephew,” he muses, tugging at the straps of your bottoms, “He fuck you like I do?”
You haven’t slept with Jace. It’s not really part of your arrangement. Not that Aemond needs to know.
“You fuck Floris like you fuck me?” you challenge. Aemond’s hands pause their movements.
Just like earlier, a wave of jealousy rolls through you. Envy churns in your stomach, and you clench your jaw. 
“Floris and I are colleagues,” Aemond says slowly. He sounds as though he’s choosing his words very carefully. 
“You don’t have to baby me,” you lie, “I’m a big girl, I understand this world.”
Aemond is silent for a moment, and you wonder if he’ll push the subject more. He’s still for so long you nearly tap out, keligon on the tip of your tongue when suddenly he finishes removing your bathing suit bottoms. Completely naked before him, tied up like a summer holiday present, your body trembles with anticipation. 
Stop being jealous, you tell yourself, feeling him move on top of you once more. It’s just sex. Fucking good sex. That’s all it has to be. 
Aemond trails wet, hot kisses down your neck, his greedy hands digging into your thighs keeping you spread open so he can rest between them. He’s still wearing pants, you can feel the fabric against your thighs, and pressing against your bare pussy, the sensation driving you insane. 
His mouth trails lower, settling on your right breast, his tongue circling your pebbled nipple. Your back arches off of the bed, hands pulling against your restraints. The leather tightens against your wrists, digging into them painfully. 
Your lips part and a breathy moan escapes your lips as he sucks on your breast. Your legs wrap around his slender waist, desperately trying to get some friction to relieve the ache between your thighs. Your clit drags against the front of his slacks, grinding against his bulge sending sparks of pleasure dancing through your body. You’re nearly pulsating with need as he releases your tit with a wet pop, humming in satisfaction. 
Aemond drags his lips through the valley of your breasts, before repeating his attentions. He moans-fucking moans---as he bites at your tender nipple, ripping a cry from deep in your chest. 
“Look at you grinding against me,” he comments, as your hips buck upwards attempting to meet him, “That wet little pussy is making such a mess on me right now.” 
Your face burns at his comment, but you can’t see what he means. You can only feel how desperately wet you are, the slickness coating your inner thighs. You thrash against your restraints and hear him click his tongue.
“Poor baby,” he says, with mock sympathy, sucking harshly against the side of your breast. He brings his free hand to play with your unattended nipple, tweaking it harshly. 
You’re not sure if it’s the extra attention he’s giving your tits or the blindfold, but you can feel the tension in your gut growing tighter, heat building in your core. You bite your lip, whining desperately, back arching. Aemond lets out a breathless laugh, never stopping his ministrations with your nipple, capturing the other with his lips once more. 
“Are you gonna cum?” he murmurs against your breast and you curse at the vibration it causes, “You better not….you hear me?” Aemond drags his lips over your breast, trailing them up your neck and just below your ear.
His hand leaves your opposite breast, finding its way under your head and tangling in your hair. He tugs the roots harshly, pinpricks of pain and pleasure trickling down your neck as you whimper. Aemond’s breath is hot against your ear as he speaks. 
“You better not fucking cum, you hear me?” he growls, “Not until I tell you to. You can do that, can’t you?” His hand tightens in your hair.
“Yes,” you gasp, “Yes-fuck!”
“That’s a good girl,” he praises, rewarding you with a kiss, “Fuck, you have no idea how beautiful you look right now.”
Your cheeks flush, heat rushing to your face at his words. You twist against your restraints as he kisses down your torso once more. 
“I should’ve been more specific,” he muses, kissing right below your belly button, “You’re not cumming unless I’m feeling generous enough to let you.” He kisses the top of your hip bone, squeezing the other side. 
“Is that clear?”
Nothing feels clear, your whole body is on fire. The embers of your previous denied orgasm burn brightly in your throbbing center. Aemond moves lower, pressing your thighs back against the bed. You can feel his breath fanning on your soaked center. 
A sharp slap stings against your dripping pussy and you cry out.
“You’re not nonverbal yet, are you?” he asks with mock concern, “I’ve barely scratched the surface.”
“No,” you tell him, “I mean, yes. Yes, I understand.”
“Good,” he says, pressing a kiss on top of your mound before dipping his tongue lower, spreading through your silky, wet folds. 
Aemond moans at the taste, dipping lower and letting his tongue tease at the opening of your clenching pussy. His tongue just breaches the tight muscle of your entrance, nose brushing against your aching clit. 
“Fuck,” you mewl as he presses his tongue further inside of you groaning as you clench around the warm, wet muscle. 
He murmurs something, even though his face is buried in your pussy and you can’t even attempt to understand him. All you can do is tug against the restraints and moan pitifully as he has his way with you. Your legs tremble, thighs aching as he presses them back further into the mattress. He decides to release them, bringing his hands under your ass and lifting you slightly off the bed to press even further against your core. 
Aemond removes his tongue to your displeasure, placing an open-mouthed, wet kiss on your pussy, dragging his lips and tongue to circle your clit with slow, calculated strokes. 
“Seven--fuck!” you cry, legs shaking around him as he gently caresses your sensitive button, another chuckle leaving him at your desperation. 
“Oh baby,” he says softly, pressing two long fingers inside of you, “You look so pathetic when you try not to cum.”
“Fu-uck,” you cry as he curls his fingers, beginning to fuck you with them. The wetness between your thighs, paired with the words he’s speaking to you make you flush with humiliation. 
You’ve never been this wet before, not for anyone. You can hear it, hear him fucking you with his fingers. The gentle squishing sounds of your soaked pussy fill the room. 
“You’re so fucking tight,” he comments, rubbing against your g-spot. Your spine arches, mouth dropping open, a wanton cry leaving your lips. “Oh, that’s such a good girl.” 
“I think you can take one more, what do you think?” he asks, “C’mon, beg me. Use that big brain of yours, find the words.”
“Yes, yes please,” you beg, “Please give me another, I need another--” you’re cut off as Aemond slips a third digit into your pussy, fucking you with his fingers relentlessly.
“Please let me cum,” you beg, feeling him sit up as he continues to finger you. 
“No,” he says sternly, placing a kiss on your stomach. 
“Please, plea-”
“I said no.”
A frustrated, guttural moan leaves you and Aemond keeps going. You’re terrified for a moment, legs shaking uncontrollably, knowing you won’t be able to stop the wave of pleasure cresting inside of you. Luckily, by some saving grace, Aemond slows his movements, before carefully removing his soaked fingers from your fluttering cunt. 
Disappointment courses through you at another ruined orgasm, followed by the relief of not going against Aemond’s wishes. You can feel tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, dampening the fabric of the makeshift blindfold. 
You feel his soaked fingers press at your lips, parting them as they dip inside your hot mouth. You moan at the taste of your arousal, sucking the lengthy digits much like you did that first night inside the coat closet. 
“Gods you’re so perfect like this,” Aemond croons, his opposite hand moving some sweat-coated hair from your damp forehead, “So eager to please.”
Defiance prickles under your skin and you fight the urge to bite down on his fingers; not hard, but enough. You feel Aemond stiffen as though he can read your thoughts, and feel his hand yank the blindfold from your eyes. You blink, adjusting to the light as he pulls his fingers from your mouth. 
He reaches up, fiddling with the belt, releasing your wrists. Arms sore, you bring them to your chest, hugging them against your breasts. You can’t help but pout, and Aemond watches you carefully, eyes narrowing. 
“Tell you what,” he muses, taking your wrists in his hands and massaging them gently, “I’m feeling rather generous today. Even though you broke into my room, and went snooping through my belongings.”
You watch him carefully, chest heaving. Aemond continues to massage your wrists, eyes glued to your breasts, watching them rise and fall with each breath you take. You swallow, eyes dropping to his erection that strains against his slacks. Your cheeks burn as you notice the wet patch on the front, no doubt caused by you grinding against him. 
“I’ll give you the necklace,” he says, letting go of your wrists and curling his hands around the meat of your upper thighs, “Or I’ll let you cum. Your choice.”
You clench at his words, clit throbbing desperately between your legs. You want to cum so badly that it's nearly painful. You whine pitifully as he squeezes your thighs. 
“I’ll let you think about it,” he assures you, that stupid smirk reappearing on his face, “On your hands and knees, get that pretty pussy in the air.”
Aemond releases you sliding off the bed and undoing his trousers. Shaking, you turn over, propping yourself on your hands and knees. You feel Aemond’s hands once more as he maneuvers you on the bed, fisting your hair and yanking your head up. 
Your eyes meet your reflection in the grand mirror, Aemond naked behind you, his well-endowed cock fully hard and weeping. He brings his lips to your ear. 
“I want you to watch,” he whispers, releasing his grip on your hair. 
He moves instead to spread your ass cheek, opening you wide for him. You feel his cock press against you, the fat head sliding through your soaked folds, dragging it teasingly from your center to your clit. 
“Aemond,” you whimper, “Please--”
Slowly he sinks into your wet heat; the girth of him stretching you out deliciously. Your whole body trembles, your head falling forward as he bottoms out; your walls pulsating around him. Aemond runs his hands over the swell of your ass, down your sides before taking both wrists in his large hands and pulling you backward. The force drags your head up, meeting his eyes in the mirror once more.
“I told….you….to….watch,” he says, punctuating each word with a hard slap of his hips against your ass; cock sliding easily in and out of your soaked pussy. 
Small mewls leave your lips as he continues to hold you, never losing the rhythm of the brutal pace he’s set. 
“Why’d you want that horrid thing back anyway?” Aemond asks, sounding displeased, “I gave you a necklace the last time we saw each other.”
Your eyes are wide, tears threatening to spill over from the pleasurable current roaring in your belly. Aemond smirks at your lack of response, releasing your arms. They fall limply to the bed, and you force your shaky forearms to keep yourself propped up. 
“Don’t you remember?” he asks, fingers digging into your thighs, “You ungrateful little slut.” 
You do remember, how could you possibly forget? You’d had to take another shower to remove his warm, sticky spend from your neck and chest. 
“Perhaps you’d like a new one,” Aemond muses, leaning on top of you, and wrapping his hands around your neck.
Not one, but both of them rest comfortably around your throat, flexing along the sides. His cock continues to slide effortlessly in and out of your tight, wet heat; cockhead rubbing incessantly against your sensitive walls and bullying your sweet spot. 
You try to say his name, try to find any words, but they come out a garbled, breathless moan.
“Do you like it?” Aemond asks, flexing his hands against your throat, “Don’t you look so pretty?”
His hands---gods his hands---look fucking perfect around your neck, as tears spill freely down your cheeks. His veins are prominent on the back of his hands, even more so when he flexes them, slightly cutting off your air supply. You’re too light-headed and cock drunk to answer him with anything other than a wanton, breathy moan. 
“Thank me,” he murmurs, rutting against you. The coil in your gut winds tighter and tighter.
“Wha--” you manage, mind clouded by lust.
“Thank me for your gift,” he says, flexing his fingers for emphasis. He tightens his grip momentarily, before releasing some pressure, allowing you the opportunity to answer him. 
Aemond lifts a brow expectantly, slowly rolling his hips against you. 
“Thank you,” you gasp, “Thank you, Aemond.”
Aemond hums appreciatively, fucking you with renewed enthusiasm. You close your eyes, squeezing them shut, trying to stop the roaring of blood rushing in your ears, your orgasm speeding toward you at full force.
“You’re close aren’t you?” he grunts, “What’ll it be, baby?”
“Please, please I wanna cum,” you whine, “Please let me cum, fu-uck!” 
Aemond pulls you up flush against his chest as soon as you say the words, fucking up into you. He keeps one hand on your throat, the other dipping between your legs to rub circles around your clit. 
“That’s it, fucking cum all over my cock,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “That’s a good little slut, there you go.”
Your body tense, legs shuddering as you’re thrown into your release, the coil in your gut snapping as you clench around his thick cock. You’re crying from the intensity, a desperate sob escaping you at the prolonged release. As your high subsides, Aemond releases you, turning you on your back.
Your whole body tingles as he climbs on top of you, sliding back into your fluttering pussy in one smooth motion. You gasp as his cock rubs against your g-spot, as he lazily begins thrusting into you once more.
“Aem-mond,” you moan, as he slings one leg over his shoulder, spreading you wider.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he scolds, smirking as he slings your other leg over his shoulder, making himself a necklace of his own, “You wanted to cum so bad, you can do it again, can’t you?”
Your mouth is open in a silent scream, watery eyes looking up at him, drinking in the satisfied smirk he wears. Your whole body tenses, the beginning of another orgasm building in your abdomen. 
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he taunts, “C’mon don’t stop now. You’ve been such a good little slut for me, you deserve it.”
“Please, please-”
“Yes you do,” he croons, “There you go. I feel this little pussy tightening around me. Squeezing me so good.”
Your nails dig into his shoulders, a strangled cry leaving your lips as his thumb brushes against your swollen clit, sending you over the edge once more. Aemond doesn’t slow his hips, he keeps fucking you into the mattress as you’re pretzled over him.
“That’s a good girl,” he sing-songs, balls slapping against your ass as he increases the pace of his thrusts, “Don’t stop now, it feels so good doesn’t it?”
A sharp cry leaves your lips and you force yourself to nod, unable to formulate words in your blissed-out state. Euphoria pulses through your veins and floods your body with warmth. It’s like you’re burning with pleasure, your entire being aflame. 
“I can’t,” you moan, though your body betrays you. You can feel the tightening sensation in your gut, the tingling feeling of another orgasm building. 
“Yes you can,” Aemond insists, “C’mon you wanted it so bad, you greedy little thing. Take it, c’mon fucking take it.”
Your thighs shake around his neck, and Aemond’s jaw slacks as you clench around him. 
“Yes, oh fu-uck, yes!,” you whimper, and Aemond’s cock twitches inside you as you’re thrown over the edge once more making your vision go white. 
Aemond thrusts a few more times before you feel his cock pulsate, and warmth blooms deep in your abdomen. He lets out a grunt as he finishes, followed by an elongated moan that sends a shiver down your spine right down to your core. His head falls against your shoulder, peppering the damp flesh with soft kisses. 
He stays like that for a moment, before moving off of you. 
“Don’t move,” he says, walking toward the bathroom. 
You couldn’t if you wanted to. You hear the water run and watch as Aemond returns with a damp washcloth. His cock sways as he walks toward you, glistening with your release. Gently, he cleans you up, taking care to avoid your abused clit. 
After several moments, you find your bearings. Reality hits you, and you grab your swimsuit, throwing it back on hastily. 
“This can’t happen again,” you insist, though your trembling legs betray you, “Not with everyone here-”
“You’re not really in a position to make demands,” Aemond says, matter-of-factly.
“Excuse me?”
“I like this arrangement,” he tells you, “Both you and I are in relationships that benefit the family. That’s fine, dutiful even.” Aemond brushes a lock of hair from your face, letting his hand rest on your cheek, “That doesn’t mean we need to deny ourselves.”
Your breath catches in your throat. You can barely think with his hands on you. You bring your hand up quickly, slapping him away. Aemond gives nothing away; no flash of hurt or rejection is evident on his chiseled face. 
“I’m not denying anything,” you tell him, the lie bitter-tasting.
Aemond only stares those blue and violet eyes of his boring into yours. His gaze reignites the fire in your belly, the primal want aching deep in your bones. 
Motherfucker. 
You hate him. 
You hate him.
Yet you want him all the same. 
“I don’t believe you,” he says softly.
“Believe what you want,” you tell him, “Jace is good for me. He’s a good person.”
“Ah yes, Jacaerys Velaryon. Your conversations must be thrilling,” he says, stepping closer to you, “I know you. Whether you like it or not, whether you admit it or not. I know what makes your brain tick inside that pretty little head of yours. You may fool the press, hells you may fool the rest of the family; but you can’t fool me.”
You don’t answer him. Ignoring the tight feeling in your chest you simply grab your cover-up and throw it around your shoulders leaving his room.
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threepandas · 29 days
Text
Bad End: Royal Red
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Have you ever seen blood BURN like the sun?
I'm not even sure "burn" is the right word for it. Writhe? Scream? HATE? Like a standing on a cliff, staring down at a valley consumed in flames. Old forests full of life... burning. Dying. Wrong.
The sky choked with thick black smoke. Tar-like and staining. The ROAR of it. Moisture ripped so utterly from the air, it hurts to breathe. Heat so absolute as it rises... you can not imagine there was ever, EVER life here.
But there was.
And it was once beautiful.
Ancient and green, bird song and morning mist. Moss beneath bare feet and the gentle quiet that is no quiet at all. A thing ALIVE. Breathing. Whole. Now gone beneath the flame. The carnage and hunger. As animals flee for their lives and your men die, desperate to hold back the all consuming spread.
Nothing but FIRE remains.
But have you seen BLOOD burn? The weeping wounds of a soul? The... WRONGNESS inside a man, catch light? A shade of ever overlapping crimson. Drying blood somehow just as fluid as the fresh. Old wounds and new. Somewhere, the depth of scars...
BURNING.
I have.
I do.
I wish I did not.
There is something... WRONG with his Highness. Now, the Crown Prince. He... He HAD brothers. Some were awful, others indifferent. But all of them? All of them are gone. Terrible accidents, allegedly. One after another. And they were NOT the only one's. Consorts, lovers, mistresses and supporters. Allies and anyone unfortunate enough to be in his Highness' way.
But of course, I can prove nothing. And to SUGGEST such a thing? That would be Treason. Defamation of a Royal. That it is TRUE? Holds no bearing. Is utterly irrelevant. Even if I HAD had the proper training, even I'd my Gifts WERE formally recognized, ultimately? Politics is King.
It's not supposed to be. But when has life ever been so kind? When has "supposed to" EVER won the day? No. Such talk gets men killed. And dying once? Was quite enough for me.
Though I HAD to wonder...
How does a Protagonist fuck up SO BADLY, that they somehow send their Hidden Route target, into an empire conquering, murder spiral? That's not "a few bad choices" levels of making a mistake. THAT'S? Damn near deliberate sabotage and I just wanna talk. Violently.
I WOULD too, if I wasn't pretty certain they were either on the run or in exile.
All I had wanted? ALL I HAD EVER WANTED?? Was to just be set dressing. Soldier A, the unimportant background gaurd. A nice, faceless, grunt. Maybe chat with my equals of plot significance, a potted plant and yonder chair. Then? I could take my pay, go home, and live quietly.
But NO!
I get stationed following the Seventh prince. Mr. Hidden Route himself. Which? Okay, fine. Was HOPING for gate duty, cause NOTHING happens on gate duty, but FINE. But THEN? Half my co-workers are ASSHOLES. Like... child abusing assholes! The FUCK?!
So? Oops. Accident on the stairs! Whoops! Lemme help you there, man. Oh? Did I ACCIDENTALLY crush the hand you used to hit that kid? Golly! Gee, I sure hope the healers can fix that for you! (I fucking know they both can't and wouldn't if they could. You can't afford SHIT.) Lemme HELP you there, AGAIN, BUUUUUDDY~☆!
Threatening you? Why I would NEVER! That's illegal!
You know... like hitting kids.
And OTHER shit they try to pull. Never DID get around to updating my Gaurd Forms. Whoops. Turns out being able to literally SEE the malicious intent on a fucker? Makes it pretty easy to know who to watch. DID get jumped a lot though. Stabbed a few times.
I just? Wanted to watch my favorite Otome game play out, you know? Get payed while doing it. Sunk cost fallacy kicked in. I've been here since I was a PRE-TEEN. Signed up for training, a ten year contract, and everything! I can LEAVE now... but like? Go WHERE? And honestly... I'm not actually sure I CAN.
Things are... Tense.
Or maybe they're just tense for me? 'Cause... Cause something isn't right. It's that burning blood color. The way it fills a room. Reaches, covetous, like staining hands. Writhes and drags itself against everything. Something unholy, between a lustful grind and the dragging of the wounded. It's not even demonic. No... somehow? It's WORSE for being utterly human.
There is something deeply wrong with the man I am sworn to obey, and I do not know how to escape him.
Because I definitely SHOULD.
I'm not stupid. He's been... been keeping me, SPECIFICALLY, close at hand, since becoming Crown Prince. The SECOND he was able to assign his OWN gaurds? I am suddenly honor gaurd. Yet not. I have basically no job but to stab just behind and to the side of him and look pretty. (For the given quality of THAT.) And...? Even the other gaurds are looking nervous.
It's NEVER a good thing when powerful people suddenly pay attention to an individual gaurd, servant, or maid. They tend to end up... hurt. Dead. Worse. And given recent behavior? Well... I've been getting offers to quietly arrange an "accident" for me.
Not so sure it won't get everyone involved killed.
He wasn't always LIKE this. Yeah, he was... different, but it wasn't BAD. Just... off. A bit weird. A color I hadn't seen before and couldn't for the life of me figure out. It had been... well, nothing. Not even grey. I KNOW grey, it's apathy or depression. Emotional flatness.
But his Highness? Like mist. The lite distortion of water droplets. Colorless and near weightless, drifting gently along. It was as though he DIDNT have emotional responses to anything. Not even flat. Just... non-existant. Which? If so? That's okay! Really. Takes all types. Something to NOTE, yeah, maybe accommodate? But fine.
It's not like there were psychiatric meds or doctors we could get for him. If he was different, so be it. We just had to work around that. Plan accordingly. Worst case scenario, maybe keep him away from small breakable things. But? He seemed benign. I shrugged and moved on. Accepted him as he was.
Maybe went out of my way to explain things with logic more then feelings. Even when I WAS explaining feelings. Ethics. Pretty much anything else he asked. Which... wait a second...
Fuck.
A nameless gaurd SHOULD NOT know that much about psychology or politics. Economics on the macro or micro scale. Oh god DAMN it Wikipedia! You betray me a lifetime away?! Et Tu random research binges!?
Okay. Okay! So maaaaybe? THATS why he's keeping me close? Cause yeah, I'm pretty stacked these days. No internet kinda leaves nothing BUT time to train and read... and books are kinda hard to get, at my level. So like? Maybe a second set of eyes?
....doesn't feel right though. Close but missing the obvious mark-ish.
I try to think of my interactions with the prince. BEFORE murder-spiral kick-off. He sought me out a lot. I interfered so many times when his Tutors crossed lines, they got me kicked out of the main building. He started skipping lessons to self-study. I got put on patrol? He learned my patrol schedule. Would invade the gaurd mess.
Got punished for that, I think. Vicious cycle. I get punished, he gets upset, wants to make sure I'm okay, I get punished for his basic empathy and being a kid. They kept reassigning me. I got stabbed that first time. Sent too...
Wait.
I try to pull up what I know of the Game in my brain. The Hidden Route and the other Routes. We are.... WAY off script. Not off GENRE... just...?
Mentally I set the Game aside. Shifting in my guarding position at the Crown Prince's side. He continues to work. The soft rustle of papers and the scratching of his pen, filling the silence along side the clink and shift of my armor. We are in the sun room, surrounded by flowers, supposedly for the better light.
To be honest, I hadn't ever BEEN in this room until I was basicly expected to tail the Crown Prince like a glorified, armor wearing, pet. And too be honest? Given that the REST of his honor gaurd were ACTUAL KNIGHTS? It was well beyond ridiculous at this point.
I was a club bouncer surrounded by elite special forces, in fancy little armor, that I could in NO way, have ever afforded on my own. Oh, and I wasn't really allowed to talk to them. So... WHY? Why, EXACTLY, was I here? There was no realistic way anything could get PASSED all those knights. I certainly wasn't PROTECTING the Crown Prince from SHIT.
And... and he hadn't attacked me, thank God. No touchy hands "service to the crown" shtick. Demanding things I couldn't refuse him. So THAT wasn't it...
Right?
My brain insisted it wasn't. That I should keep going over the list of possible reasons. Consider This or That. But... Something in my gut? Rang like a struck bell. Some non-physical part of me. That peice that twined, like gentle golden ivy, up through my body, too wrap around my eyes from the inside. Not enough, maybe, to get me into some high and mighty school or apprenticeship... but ENOUGH.
Because Magic was, is, and always has been? Divine. For all that HUMANS fail while using it. For every MORTAL error in it's implementing or understanding. It's a drop of the Divine. And? You can not LIE to the Gods. Hide, perhaps, but not LIE. Even then, you'd have to know what you're hiding FROM.
Kinda hard to hide from "using past life knowledge to deduce motivation" when that's not exactly a thing people can easily guess I HAVE. I get away with shit. Know things I really shouldn't.
Am.... am desperately trying to convince myself that the twinge I just felt? DOESN'T mean what I think it means. Even as a cold sweat breaks out over my skin. As I desperately keep my expression placid and my stare straight into the middle distance. Ha ha.... oh god. No no no, oh god, no...!
Okay. OKAY! Lying to yourself will NOT keep you safe! We can do this! Nothing is happening. We just... just have to play it cool. NOT. PANIC.
He DID want us for sexual reasons.
But... more? More, maybe. I poke at the feeling. Try to frame my thoughts as absolute statement as see if I get a twinge again. To get a feel for the edges of whatever is happening. I can not protect myself, if I do not KNOW from what I protect AGAINST. Just sex? No. Was I a convenience choice? Also No. Revenge for something? A sudden certainty that I'd be DEAD if it was.
Oh, THATS not concerning at ALL!
Okay, keep prodding. Uuuuh... He has a thing for big muscle-y dudes with scars? Strong yes. Okay! Getting somewhere! Kinda thought he liked the petite, girly girl-ish typ-? Weirdly hollow No? Strong. Okay, what the FUCK. See THIS? THIS is why I wanted to be a fucking GAURD. No weird Protagonist of any adventures bullshit! Just a 9-5 with a paycheck at the end!
Uuuugh. Okay, soooo... likes? Strong dudes.... and I was the closest? No. Okay! Getting somewhere! Other strong dude... isn't available? Yes, but I am looking at it wrong. Great. At least I know what that feeling MEANS. Still wish it would just follow up with a "and btw, here's the answer~☆" but, fuck no! Why would life make anything EASY for a guy?
Fuck it! Random shit at the wall time. He's definitely in love with the Protagonist? No. Wait, really? Then why...? No. Stay on track. He's in definitely in love with ME? I wait, utterly expectant, for the twinge that will mark a negative. Half cursing myself for not checking with the Divine sooner. There had been no excuse. Distractions, yes, but no excuse.
It feels like getting sucker punched in the gut. HARD.
Takes everything in me, not to wheeze and double over. That... that wasn't a "yes". That was so FAR beyond "yes" I'm not sure there are spoken, written, or even conceptual WORDS for it. As absolute a CONCEPT of Yes as I have ever felt or probably ever will.
It... It did NOT feel good.
That was a WARNING.
Like the Gods them selves had taken me by the back of the neck, stepped close, to whisper in my ear as they drove their fist into my gut. "Pay Attention To This. RUN. You Need To RUN. There Are Monsters Here."
My eyes feel like they are burning. Like I haven't blinked in too long. Colors a bit too bright, details too sharp. The edges of reality cutting like splintering, glittering, glass. Everything has a GLOW to it. It's never done that before. Is... is this panic? Fight or Flight forcing me to draw deeper then I ever have before?
Or are the Gods paying attention? Displeased by what they see?
The room around us is... is so quiet. Beautiful. Rare flowers, teeming with life. Decorative and pampered little song birds, flitting from roost to roost. The rich scent of rare tea and expensive cologne, mixing with armor polish and the scent of green, living things. Sunlight makes his Highness' hair glow like it was made of it. Pale gold and filled with light.
If I could not SEE... his Highness would be beautiful.
But I can, and instead? He's terrifying.
I think I'm shaking. I don't understand. The room around me picturesque. Peaceful. Golden and filled with gently beautiful things. Light. It feels mocking. Paper thin. Like some cruel trap laid out over a pit of tar. As though, like in the cartoons of my old childhood, the INSTANT I become aware... acknowledge the reality of my ACTUAL surroundings?
The paper thin veneer will rip, no longer able to hold my weight, and I will be plunged into the horrors just beneath the lie.
How.... HOW did-?! I... I CAN'T-!
I put everything I am, into letting nothing show. E-Everything is FINE. Do not turn around. Please. Please, Gods, do not notice me or turn around! I breathe. Breathe. Can't do nothing now, but breathe. Panic is the mind killer. I remind myself of that. People do stupid things, when they act in panic. Think. THINK! Plan. THEN act! Breathe.
How? HOW did this happen? Trace it back. Find the source and we can... can maybe unhook the noose. Fix this? Escape? Run and keep running. Find the edge of the map and keep going. Where did it...? My brain, maybe my magic, finally takes pity. Connects the wires that have long been JUST missing each other. My mental list of Genre Troupes. My history with the Prince.
The blood drains from my face.
Oh fuck. Shit! Oh fuck, oh SHIT. Yandere. He was a YANDERE hidden route character! Wasn't he!? It's the only thing that makes sense with the-! No, no, he should still-! But, wait. No. No, no, NO. Oh god! I pulled a combo attack. "Childhood best friend" even though we WEREN'T. I was basically the closest in age to him! AND the only non-asshole! So that's "Different From The Others"!
Oh mother FUCKER, I pulled a "Only One Who Cares About Me" while SERVING him! His fucked up little squirrel brain would have taken that as "belonged to him" only to have me "taken away" when I was assigned elsewhere! Every time I kept someone from ABUSING him, I was making it WORSE. Every time they reassigned me, somebody was "trying to take me away"!
Oh sweet merciful FUCK, I got STABBED!
No WONDER he lost his absolute shit! He was unhinged to begin with! But instead of latching on to Protagonist and being HER problem, he latched on to ME! Why did no one warn me he was-!? Actually, I have no idea. Non-Just-Straight?! That! One of the THAT! Like FUCK I'm asking! He'd think it was an invitation, probably!
Because he NUCKING FUTS! Squirrels in the brain! Def Con OH SHIT!!
Yandere! Shit! I'm gonna di-!
"Something's upset you." The crown prince's surprisingly deep voice says, breaking the silence. I flinch. "I can feel your magic moving. An attack, perhaps? Or is someone saying something they should not."
He... oh, great, amazing! He can FEEL my magic. The magic INSIDE me body. That magic. Yeah, I don't feel stripped naked and on display AT ALL. Thanks! Definitely not invasive, your Highness! Still, I have to answer. Carefully. Very, VERY carefully.
He hums, disbelieving, as I reply. Lifting his pen and setting it aside. A graceful hand lifts. The mere flick of his fingers. "Move" it means. "Come where I can see you". Imperious and royal. Casual in it's assumed control of me. Why would he believe anything else, after all? He IS a prince. The CROWN Prince. Future KING.
He DOES own me.
I keep my breathing even. Keep my hands from visually shaking by tightening my grip on my spear. Even, professional, steps. Forward. Turn. Face your ruler. Your BETTER. No eye contact. Even breathing and eyes to the horizon. You are a statue. Just... just be a statue. No thoughts. You can do this.
It doesnt help. I can FEEL those pale, pale eyes. Striking and blue. Rare flower petals or glacier ice, they have been called. Compared to all sorts of haunting things. The Crown Prince is a beautiful man. That dangerous sort of pale beauty, that make for excellent portraits, of bright and holy things. That fools the eyes into thinking surely, SURELY the soul before your is Good. Trustworthy.
How could anything so beautiful be DANGEROUS?
Be corrupted and insane? A killer. A madman.
A MONSTER.
I stand at attention. Where he can observe me. His little toy soilder. Kept like a PET, I know realize, and try not to feel like I am being picked apart. Like a mouse in some tigers cage. The far wall sure is fascinating. Mmmmhmm. Very... very wall-like. Glass and artfully arranged flowering vines. Very pretty. What a wall! Ten stars for wall-ness.
The near silent shift of fine fabrics. A tap. Nail on high grade armor alloy. Just the smallest of sounds that nonetheless seems deafening. I barely stop myself from jerking back in alarm. Can't prevent my gaze from snapping downwards. To the arm outstretched, the elegant hand curled, the well manicured finger nail on the single outstretched finger... that has placed itself right over my heart. I freeze, utterly.
"You're getting nervous, aren't you? Growing uncertain. I've been so busy planning ahead, I've forgotten the here and now, haven't I?" He muses. That finger I should not be able to feel, that somehow feels like a knife trailed along my skin, glides slowly down. A meandering path down towards my belt. "I've neglected you."
The finger hooks into my belt. I am dragged forward a few stumbling steps with a deceptively strong tug. There is significant muscle, hidden by the almost waifish cut of his Highness daily wear. The eyes watching for my reaction are predatory. Intent. It was as though there should be fangs, in that pleasant, politician's grin...
"My steadfast knight, warrior of my heart, you've been so patient for me... so LOYAL." He rolled the word across his tongue as he said it, eyes locked on me with the sort of interest hunter keep, more a sigh then a word. Somehow.. Somehow the concept became OBSCENE, once in his hands. "So good for me. Even after all this time. Soon, Dearest. Soon we won't have to hide. I promise."
I had NEVER been a knight. Not even CLOSE to qualified for the training. Not even a single branch, magical or otherwise. Worse? I knew for a FACT? We had never, not ONCE, been lovers. No stolen glances. No fumbling youthful hands. No "hey, let's explore this closet!". Nothing. I? Had been studiously professional, if a decent human being.
This was ALL him.
What narrative had he painted in his head?
My heart pounds. My brain somehow both gibbering hysteria and unnatural calm. I... I think I may be disassociating. But all I can think, all I KNOW, is that I can NOT, Under ANY Circumstances, break the illusion. Do NOT argue. Why YES, deeply insane FUTURE KING, I DO love you so VERY much! Hey, don't mind me, just left the phone running. Gonna go for a walk. Buy some milk.
I watch, pleasant service industry smile feeling plastic on my face, as he leans forward. Rests his head against my armored chest, as though we were lovers. Just stealing a quite little moment alone. His hand slides along my belt, fingers hooked into it, the brush of his knuckles feeling far filthier then any groping hand. I can HEAR him breathing me in.
Obscene. How is he making such chaste contact so deeply obscene? He let's out a pleased hum and I want a shower.
"Kneel for me?" So soft I almost don't catch it, it takes a moment to register the words. This time, I can not stop myself from tensing. I know he feels it, but can not bring myself to care. "Shhhh shh shh, none of this, my Darling. To your knees before your King. Sweetheart, my dearest. You're going to be serving me there for the rest of our lives. It's okay. Your King won't rush you. He knows how shy you are. How nervous."
W-Well THAT wasn't treason! At ALL! Ha ha...! Oh god.
Hands at my waist. When did the other one-?! I'm shaking. Smile. D-dont set him off. This is fine. I... I shouldn't be ABLE to feel their heat, through my armor. Somehow I do. I want to back up. If I got to do this? At least let me-!
But, no. Pressure. Hands on my hips dragging me down, watching eyes expectant. In stops and starts... like a seizing automaton, my knees bend. Down I go... I guess.
Almost instantly, there are hands unbuckling my helmet. Sliding it off. Stealing it away. Fingers slide through my hair. Cup my cheek. A thumb running itself across my mouth. The prince seemed to loom. Hungry as he stared down at me.
"Beautiful. My loyal knight is so, SO beautiful. I am going to give us the world. Take what is ours. No one will EVER hurt us again, Dearest. I will keep you forever. Dress you in armor and roses. Mine and mine alone."
There was madness in his eyes. Obsession. Is...is that what that color meant? That burning, terrible blood? It's too late. Oh god, it's too late for that to help me. I smile. Do not argue. Fear and fear and fear. I have to get out. On my knees, it is a terrible view of what's to come, should I fail. The Games's utterly fucked. I no longer care.
I have to get out.
The King, after all, has gotten sick lately.
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dira333 · 1 month
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The Cat and the Human - Kenma Kozume x Reader
I will never willingly admit that Kenma's my favorite even though everyone knows I really really really really really really really really really love him... So.... have this fun piece instead. Also, @notsochillnerd this is kind of an excerpt of "Young Love" that I came up with today. Have fun with it knowing what you do.
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“The story goes like this:  The most wanted woman in town has announced that she’ll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key around her cat’s neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail, the cat is simply too quick, smart and clever, and always finds a way to evade and avoid them.
You are the first one to figure out the obvious: Do not chase the cat. The cat is befriendable. Get the cat to trust you, to genuinely enjoy your company, and you can hang out with the cat. You may eventually be allowed to touch the cat. The cat will freely let you take the key. 
Plot twist: The woman is a shapeshifter. She is the cat.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Kenma asks, engrossed in his hand-held game. He’s taken his perch in the comfy chair next to the Couch you’re lying on, his seating position weird enough to give everyone back cramps but him.
“I thought it was obvious,” you say, pick up your book again, and continue reading.
It’s a good book, really. One you’ve been trying to finish for weeks now.
It’s just a little hard to focus when Kenma’s sitting there, perfectly disheveled hair falling into his eyes, the gold in his hair glinting in the sunlight.
But you prevail, your eyes returning to the page.
And it gets easier, a little bit at least, to get sucked into the narrative.
Only to be pulled out of it quite harshly.
“Want to cuddle?” Kenma asks, pointy knees digging into your side as he climbs onto you without waiting for an answer.
“Do I have a choice?” 
“No.”
-
Kenma is like a cat.
It’s a common inside joke by now, one that’s already a little grey around the edges, but he keeps it alive with all his adorable quirks.
Kenma hates water - do not take him swimming - and he’s usually more active during the night. He can sleep for hours on end, his body seemingly consisting of nothing but liquid, curled into the oddest shapes.
More than once you checked his pulse because you thought he fell down the stairs and died only to find out he just couldn’t be bothered to make it to bed before snoozing off.
Those things are all old news though, commented on time and time again by his friends. 
You wonder how many of them know just how cat-like he reacts to attention.
-
It’s the way he shies away from the spotlight, hides whenever someone’s trying to get him to do something - even things he would have ordinarily liked doing - only to come out just when no one’s paying him any attention anymore.
Maybe it’s because you’ve always had a thing for cats.
You like the differences in their characters, how they can force you to abide to their consent. If a cat doesn’t want you to pet them, they’ll just bite you.
Still, you can’t help but think sometimes that Kenma chose you first.
-
“Hey,” you look up from your Laptop to see him standing in the doorway of your room, hair tied up in a messy bun and the hem of his hoodie going almost past his knees - it must be one of Kuroo’s then.
“Hey.”
“What are you doing?”
“Creating a training regime for the team, why?”
“Can I stay with you? I’ve got some free time and I’m kinda bored.”
“Sure,” you nod, turn back to your screen to let him figure out where he wants to sit. So far that’s always been the best way to go about this, and you’re not that surprised when his knees soon dig into your back as he climbs into the tiny space between your back and the backrest of your chair.
“Comfy?” You ask as his head sinks heavy onto your shoulder.
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
Time passes slowly. You move as slowly as you can, trying not to upset his balance, your heart sloshing in your chest to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Maybe it’s because you’ve always had a thing for cats.
Maybe you’ve just always been dreaming about him. 
“Do you mind spending time with me?” His voice comes out a bit muffled, but the words are clear.
“Never.”
“Why?”
“I like sending time with you.”
“How much?”
You accidentally click a wrong button and the big flashing sign asking if you really want to delete the document is screaming the truth in your face.
Kenma’s breathe ghosts ove your neck and you know, you just know, that he’s seen it all. Nothing ever goes unnoticed by him, not even your own feelings.
“A lot.”
“More than Kuroo.”
“Hm.”
“More than Akaashi?”
“Akaashi’s my cousin.”
“Still.”
You sigh. 
“Don’t tell him,” you ask, “but yeah.”
Kenma’s quiet for a while.
“More than Bokuto?” He finally asks, his voice tiny now.
“Yeah.” Your voice is barely more than a sigh, an admission of things you’ve probably always known, but never dared to be real.
And maybe you’re imagining it - though you doubt it, with how hotwired your senses are right now - but it almost feels like Kenma’s lips are moving against the back of your neck, pressing the tiniest of kisses against warm skin.
Some cats are vocal. Others show their love in a different way.
-
“How’d you get him to agree?” Hinata asks, breathless with excitement.
People stop and stare. Even without the flaming orange hair he’s breathtaking, his smile a second sun.
You’ve long grown immune to it, looking for a different sunshine in the crowd.
“That’s a secret,” you tell him off, messing up his hair like the big sister/Senpai you are to him. “Not telling.”
“I’ll just ask Kuroo for it.”
“Good luck, he wants to know too,” you pull back when you spot him, knowing full well that next to him-
“Hey,” you can barely hide the smile that’s always overtaking you at his sight.
“Hey,” Kenma sounds way less enthused, shuffling into your side. If you’d try to read his mind he’d probably be thinking “Too hot, too loud, too many people” in cycles, so you take his hand and squeeze it, a little surprised when he squeezes back.
“You owe me for this,” he reminds you before he has to leave again, playing as a setter for Hinata’s team in a charity Beach-Volleyball event.
And you do.
-
“Thank you,” you mutter into his sunkissed skin later that day, his body stretched out alongside yours, too tired to move, too tired to care, too tired to do anything other than press into you.
“We didn’t even win,” he grumbles back, never too tired to point out the obvious.
“Still,” you curl a lock of his hair around your finger, press a kiss against the underside of his chin, “I like watching you.”
“Stalker.”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t pose for me,” you tease him, giggling when he squirms.
-
Kenma’s like a cat.
It’s the quiet affections that please him and the lack of attention that spurs him on.
If anyone would ask you if you feel guilty for using that against him, you’d have to say no.
After all, he knows your weaknesses just as well. And he’s not afraid of using them against you too.
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joeys-babe · 9 months
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Joey B Imagines: Touchdown Celebrations
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Summary: The gender reveal of your second pregnancy, and third baby, has to top the first reveal. You and Joe decide you want to incorporate the team again just like you did with the twins’ and even go on to decide to do it during a game… but still keep it secretive to the outside world.
Warnings: fluff, pregnancy
Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader
Imagine universe: Into The Mystic
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*18 weeks pregnant*
Another day at Paycor Stadium, except today wasn't just any day… today Joe and I would be finding out the gender of our third baby.
The twins’ gender reveal had been a hot topic on the internet after the story was told, and Joe and I both knew we'd have to step it up even more.
I can honestly say that I planned pretty much everything by myself last time, but this time around Joe had been bouncing ideas off of me constantly.
The team was going to be the stars of the show once again. It made sense because of how present they were in Joe and me’s lives, the boy's lives, and the pregnancy of the unborn baby still inside my womb.
I sat in the box with Robin on my right, Miles on her lap, and Tyson on my left.
Both of us were waiting patiently for the guys to run out and the outcome of the coin toss since it would be telling us how much longer we would have to wait for Joe and his offense to be on the field.
We would be on offense when the reveal of our baby's gender would happen.
This was how it was going to go down.
On our offense’s opening drive, Joe would ideally try to get the ball to one of his guys, ending in a touchdown.
The entire offense would go to the end zone, minus Joe of course, and either flex their arms for a boy or do a ballerina spin for a girl.
At first, Joe loved the idea but hated the flexing vs spinning because he found it subjective and kinda sexist.
He couldn't come up with any alternatives so Joe reluctantly agreed to the original idea.
Before the game, Coach Taylor kicked Joe out of the locker room and told the offense the gender of the baby.
Now that the guys knew what they were doing, all we needed was a touchdown.
Both Robin and I had spent the last 10 minutes trying to explain everything to Tyson and Miles in the best possible way you can to two two-year-olds.
Even though they still couldn't understand, their attention was immediately lost when “Dada” ran out onto the field.
I will never get tired of seeing them getting so excited watching their father do what he loves.
Miles had squirmed off of his grandma’s lap and was standing at the railing by his twin as they jumped up and down, cheering for their favorite person.
The moment was so blissful and sweet that I almost couldn't hear Robin talking to me.
“So, have you gotten sick yet? I know you had really bad morning sickness with the twins so I wanted to see if there was a difference.” - Robin
My hand dropped to the small bump that was just now starting to show through my shirt.
“No sickness which is insane. Joe thinks it's a girl because of that.” - you smiled
“I think it is too.” - Robin grinned
I stood up and walked down to the railing to coral the boys back to their seats, thankfully they chose not to fight back.
——
When Joe and his guys took the field, both Robin and I were high on excitement. She took one of my hands and squeezed it tight.
I could tell that Joe was trying to get down to the end zone quicker than normal.
Because of that, it wasn't long till they were within the 25-yard line.
Robin and I were practically bubbling with a mix of nerves and pure ecstasy.
Jimmy stood up at the top of the box talking to a few other people while still paying attention to the field in hopes of finding out what his next grandbaby would be.
The offense didn't keep us waiting too long for a touchdown. My heart was beating so fast as Tee caught the pass and waved the rest of the guys into the end zone.
Joe stood a few feet away, his heart beating just as fast, and he looked up at you and his boys waiting patiently for the results.
He so wished he was with you, but he knew he'd try to get you down to him during halftime to celebrate.
The O-line, receivers, and the rest of the guys started doing a ballerina spin.
“It’s a girl!” - Robin yelled and hugged you
My eyes welled up with tears as I watched Joe jump up in down out of pure excitement. He was finally going to be the girl dad he's always wanted to be.
“Joe looks so happy.” - Jimmy
“He wanted a girl so bad.” - you cried
“Congratulations sweetie, I'm so happy for you guys.” - Robin
Jimmy handed me a tissue knowing I would be mad AF if my makeup ran.
Tyson and Miles both stared at me confused, before looking at each other to confirm they were seeing the same thing.
“Mama?” - Miles
“You wokay?” - Tyson
“I’m perfect, guys. I'm really happy actually because Mommy has a baby girl in her belly. That's why Daddy’s friends did that little dance after Uncle Tee got the touchdown.” - you
“Baby Girl?” - Tyson
“Yup. You guys are going to have a baby sister in a few months.” - you
Miles and Tyson smiled widely and moved forward to my bump. They laid their little heads on it to be closer to their sister.
“Is it Daddy’s bwaby… too?” - Miles
Robin and I busted out laughing before I composed myself enough to answer him.
“Yes, it's your daddy’s baby too.” - you
My eyes shifted down to the sidelines where Joe was still celebrating with a wide smile on his face. Everyone was hugging him and patting him on the back.
I didn't think my heart could warm any more than it already had, but when I realized Joe was crying and continuously wiping his eyes I thought my heart was going to explode.
“Dada’s cryin’!” - Tyson
“It’s because he's happy, baby.” - you
Ty scooted closer to me and laid his head on my shoulder.
“Are you happy for a baby sister?” - you
“Mhm. We can match!” - Tyson
“You wanna match with sissy? Like you do with Miles?” - you
“Yes!” - Tyson
——
As soon as it hit halftime, a security guard escorted me and the boys down to the locker room after Joe texted me saying Zac gave him the okay to talk to me for a second.
Both of my hands were occupied with holding a twin’s hand in mine as we walked down the hallway.
We rounded the corner and my pase quickened when I saw that familiar tall frame leaning up against the wall.
Once we were within a foot of him I let go of the twin’s hands and ran up to Joe, who had his arms wide open for me.
“Baby, I can't believe we're having a girl.” - Joe wrapped his arms around you
“Me either. I'm so excited.” - you
“I am too. I get to be a girl dad.” - Joe
“Yes, you do, baby. I can't wait to pick out a name for her and start brainstorming nursery ideas with you.” - you
“I’m going to spoil the living daylights out of her… and you too, mama.” - Joe
I laughed as I pulled away, thinking of a response in the meantime.
“I’m sure you will, babe.” - you laughed
Tyson and Miles walked out from behind me and Joe squatted down to hug his boys, though Tyson complained that Joe’s shoulder pads made the hug “uncwumfy”.
Once they were done hugging their dad, Joe stood back up and placed a kiss on my cheek. He placed a big hand on the center of my small bump and grinned at me.
“I don't want to keep you from the team too long, I'll see you later.” - you
“One, my family is way more important than football, and two you better be seeing me later because I'm your ride home.” - Joe
“You're a dork, Joe. I love you though.” - you
Joe leaned down to kiss me, faint sounds of the team inside the locker room getting hyped, and the twins gagging watching their parents kiss could be heard, but the only thing that I could pay attention to was my husband's soft lips.
“I love you too.” - Joe pecked your forehead when he pulled away
I watched him turn in the direction of the door and I took this as an opportunity to smack him on the butt since the twins were occupied looking at the artwork on the walls.
“Go win this game, Tiger.” - you winked
Joe chuckled loudly and rolled his eyes before stepping into the locker room. My smile never left my face as I watched him walk over to Zac, who is a proud girl dad himself, patted him on the back.
——
Walking back to the box with my boys had my heart flourishing like never before. They continuously asked questions about their baby sister and for once it felt like nothing could ruin my mood, not even the fact I was going to have smile lines by 40.
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Authors note: Guys I lost my streak… so this is technically the 6th day of Christmas. Day 5 coming out later today maybe. 😊😉
Request for this fic; loosely based off of…
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Hope you enjoyed! ❤️
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