#hit me where i live nintendo
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themarydragon · 2 years ago
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my honest reaction to the dragons tears questline:
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LEGIT.
LEGIT RESPONSE.
Mine was more like:
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hornychristianprincess · 8 months ago
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wasted (leehan x fem reader) FINAL
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paring: leehan x fem reader, ft. taesan genre: smut, fluff, angst, fuckboy!leehan word count: 15k summary: finally confessing your feelings to leehan leads to a reaction you could have never prepared for. warnings: unwanted sexual advances (NOT from leehan), explicit [consensual] sex scenes, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it ppl) read on ao3 if you please by clicking HERE.
“Jaehyun, you have a lot of friends, right?” asks Leehan when he and his roommate are relaxing in their shared living room, doing homework. “Do you know anyone who works in the tutoring office? Blonde streak of hair?”
It’s the only attributes he can remember about the guy he saw you entering your room with only a few days ago, noticing the blue tutoring office logo on the chest of his polo shirt and the distinctive stripe of color in the middle his head. 
“Oh yeah, I think you’re talking about Taesan,” says Jaehyun, who luckily isn’t paying attention enough to his roommate to notice how he perks up at just the name. “Why?”
Even Leehan himself isn’t exactly sure why he cares so much. 
It’s hypocritical at best and gross at worst to think that you have any less of a right to screw around than he does. 
But whether it's his innate territoriality coming into play or the fact that he’s upset it wasn’t him at your side instead, he can’t help but see you differently after what he saw.
“I saw him with some girl I was fucking. Sexual partners are like cars – You don’t want one everyone gets to use, you know?”
Jaehyun, who had up until this point been lying on the floor and playing idly with his Nintendo switch, sits up to look at Leehan. “You’re not talking about Y/N, are you?”
The first thought that comes to a surprised Leehan’s mind is what he said to have tipped Jaehyun off. Failing to think of any divertive lie, he decides there’s no harm in Jaehyun knowing, only wondering, “How’d you find out?”
“I saw her going into your room the night of my Halloween party,”  he explains reasonably, before his voice and facial expression turn suddenly serious. “You shouldn’t talk about her like that. She’s going through a lot right now. She just failed all of her midterms and she might get kicked out of school.”
“Wait, really?” asks Leehan, who is hit with a sudden pang of deja vu as if he’s heard this before but doesn’t remember from where. 
And then, it’s with a sudden and strong surge of embarrassment that he remembers the moment when he was feeling horny and decided to send you a dick pic, pressing the little blue arrow after only briefly glancing at the above messages.
“Oh shit. I think she told me that.”
Jaehyun laughs jeeringly, the resentful sound of which brings Leehan out of his own spiraling thoughts. “You’re an asshole, man,” he asserts, saying it in a way that’s so casual it’s as if it’s just a known fact. 
Not an insult or a compliment, but simply a thing that’s true. 
And somehow, the neutrality of it hurts worse. 
“No offense, but I totally hope she forgets she ever met you.”
Hit by the irony of such cruel words being preceded by no offense, Leehan becomes sarcastic to avoid having to express the true hurt of being told that. “None taken. That seriously wasn’t offensive at all, Jaehyun.”
Maybe Jaehyun is right. After working so hard to emphasize the line between being fuckbuddies and being in a relationship, yet still finding himself acting the exact way he feared you would, isn’t asshole the only way to truly express how shitty he’s being about this? 
It’s at that moment that Leehan considers that perhaps this relationship between the two of you has spiraled out of control. 
Because something that should be inherently easy and casual has now caused him far too much regret and remorse for his liking.
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Sitting in an empty classroom with Taesan, you share a cup of bubble tea, the drinking of which causes you to bump hands several times as you reach out to grab it at the same time. 
Interacting with Taesan always brings up sweet and innocent feelings that are like that of childhood crushes, or chasing fireflies on your lawn after dark. 
Fall break has long been over and yet you continue to meet with him even outside of your mandatory weekly check-ins, forgetting the anxiety that once plagued you over this arrangement. 
The time you spend with Taesan is so fulfilling that you’ve managed to completely forget that Leehan hasn’t contacted you in almost a week. 
Well, maybe not completely. 
You still wonder from time to time what he’s thinking, if maybe he read the text message you sent prior to his dick pic and internalized the part where you emphasized how you wouldn’t have time for him anymore.
There is of course a tiny part of you that feels empty and abandoned at the idea of him ghosting you and never talking to you again.
But it’s in a stroke of optimism, feigned or otherwise, that you decide to pour your attention into someone who feels like a much better match for you, that someone being Taesan.
“I’m just about to finish with this assignment. After I’m done, do you wanna go to the caf?” you mumble out in inquiry to Taesan as you check over your quiz answers for the last time before submitting. 
You hear him make a noncommittal noise in response, which you first interpret as disinterest, but only seconds later recognize to be absent-mindedness as you feel his eyes warming the side of your face. 
You let out a chuckle, just about to say something teasing to him for being caught staring at you when a few warm fingers glide across your ear. Taken aback, you meet Taesan’s gaze as he tucks away a piece of your stray hair. 
“Are you okay?” he asks softly, holding your face in his hand. “You have this…faraway look in your eyes.”
Your eyes dart between his face and his hand that’s slow to come off of your ear, surprised by the sudden bit of physical contact.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answer calmly if maybe a bit shakily, trying to appear normal though your head screams with a million passing thoughts at once. Taesan nods in acceptance of this answer before turning back to his laptop as if nothing happened. 
If you were at all a gambling person, you’d bet good money that the telltale, suave move of tucking your hair behind your ear was a way for him to see how you’d react to something less platanotic from him. 
And if you were to allow this moment to pass by without saying anything, you know that he would follow your lead and pretend like this never happened. He’d use your silence as evidence that his advances are unwelcome. 
Perhaps you’re feeling a little bold, but you don’t want him to go any longer thinking that his interest isn’t reciprocated.
“Wait,” you remark, reaching out to grab Taesan’s wrist. “Taesan, can I kiss you?”
The usually mysterious, confident boy loses his ability to speak when you ask him that, eyes going wide and only nodding to communicate his consent. Finding his sudden shyness charming, you smile as you lean in to press your lips against his. 
Taesan’s mouth is just as inviting as you thought it would be all the times you spent staring at it when you were sure he wasn’t looking. He may have acted shy just now, but the way that Taesan kisses you is like fire. He presses his mouth hard against yours, and when his body does the same you soon find yourself pressed into the rolling chair you’re sitting in.
Your hand moves up to tangle in his hair, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. You were sure that Taesan, ever the responsible one, would be the person between the two of you to pull away before things got too heated. 
But now, all he does is lean in to your provocations, sticking his tongue into your mouth while you whimper against his. 
And as you try to allow your brain to white out so that you can truly relax into the gratification he is sure to give you, all you can think about is how his lips are not Leehan’s lips.
His hands are not Leehan’s hands. 
His kiss doesn’t evoke even a fraction of the electricity that Leehan does just by looking at you. 
You accept then that self-preservation must be a confounding myth to your psyche, because against all odds, you are still very much into Leehan. 
And while you could easily fuck Taesan anyway and let the enjoyment of his sex prove as a temporary salve to the gaping wound that is your feelings for Leehan, you feel too much like he doesn’t deserve to fuck someone with such selfish intentions. 
So, it’s with both regret and sobering understanding that you pull Taesan away from you, lines of spit breaking into drool as you separate.
The two of you become temporarily frozen in a moment of both confusion and shock. Taesan, looking at you with widened eyes and reddened lips, asks in a small yet urgent voice, “What? Is something wrong?”
You already feel like a piece of shit as you loosen your grip on Taesan’s hair, letting your hands fall to your lap and noticing that his still rest on your waist. “Taesan…” you begin, and already at just the sound of his name, you can see his expression wilting, like he knows by the unsure tone of your voice exactly what you’re going to say. And how couldn’t he, when you suck so badly at giving bad news?
“I think you’re an amazing person. And believe me when I say I really, really wanted this between us,” you emphasize, wishing you could get swallowed up by a hole as he continues to stare at you in dumbfounded awe. 
You know that these aren't words anyone wants to hear but you feel compelled to say them, feeling like Taesan deserves honesty from you.
“To be completely candid with you, the reason why I’m on academic probation is because of a guy. A recent guy who treated me like shit, but because I’m an idiot, I still want him.”
You wait on edge for the moment when Taesan’s disposition will return to that of the understanding, kind person you’ve come to know, the moment when you’ll both laugh at the awkwardness of this situation and allow yourselves to forget it ever happened.
Instead, though, all you see in Taesan’s eyes is a fiery passion that makes your head hurt as you realize he won’t let this rejection go down easily. 
“You know that doesn’t matter to me right? We don’t have to…be all romantic, and shit. I’m fine with something casual. Happier with that, even.”
It’s with a pang of insecurity that you fight back a self-pitying laugh at those words, wondering what it is about you that makes men only want casual, no-strings-attached relationships with you. 
“I’m sorry for making things awkward. And if you don’t want to tutor me anymore after this, I’d completely understand,” you concede in the nicest possible tone you can muster, still incredibly conscious of Taesan’s hands that have still not left your waist. “But I can’t do this, Taesan. You’re amazing but I just…I can’t, okay?”
When Taesan continues to stare at you as if he isn’t comprehending a word that’s coming out of your mouth, you reach down to move his hands off of your waist yourself, and when you do,  you’re shocked when you feel his fingers seizing around your wrists to hold them in place. 
“You’re being ridiculous, Y/N. So what if you’re not over your ex? That shouldn’t stop you from getting your rocks off,” he says, voice rising considerably as he squeezes your wrists so harshly it begins to hurt. 
It’s at this moment that you realize you’ll never be able to look at Taesan the same again. 
No longer the sweet, kind and helpful boy you first met, he looks pathetic and at worst, scary as he continues to refuse your rejection.
“Taesan, I’m really gonna need you to let go of me,” you request, saying it without any niceties as you manage to convince yourself that maybe he’s just taking this extra hard for whatever reason and just needs to hear you being serious so that he can come to his senses. “Listen, how about we end early for today and talk about this another time–”
“I’m not letting you leave until you can look me in my eyes and give me one good reason why we shouldn’t do this,” he asserts, still holding your wrists, laughing a little in a way that makes it hard for you to tell if he knows that he’s making you uncomfortable or thinks that this is all just some game of hard-to-get. “You can act coy all you want but I know you want me, I could tell as soon as I met you.”
“I’m gonna tell you to let go of me one more time, Taesan, and then I start screaming,” you threaten, no longer feeling amused or pitiful but instead angry, adrenaline running through your veins as you consider the possibility of having to physically attack him. 
You’re not sure how things escalated so quickly but now you’re quickly regretting ever befriending Han Taesan in the first place, ever thinking that he could be a permanent fixture in your life.
Catching you by surprise, Taesan stands up suddenly from his chair and drags you up with him. It’s in a flurry of movements that he somehow manages to pin you against a wall, smirking down at you from above. 
You let out a squeal but he covers your mouth, strong enough to use only one of his hands to keep your arms pinned above your head. He laughs as you struggle against him, perhaps not realizing – or worse, realizing it and getting off on how deeply he’s managed to scare you.
“What?” he asks through upturned lips, pressing his body into yours. “Don’t girls like it when guys don’t take no for an answer?”
It’s in the strangest and most serendipitous stroke of luck that you hear the sound of the classroom door swinging open.
And when you turn your head to meet the gaze of your savior, it’s Leehan who you see standing there, taking in the scene in front of him. 
It feels stupid and random that of course it’s Leehan who just happened to be the person to walk in here, but you don’t dwell too much on the details, focused on the relief that floods through you knowing there’s someone here to intervene on your behalf. 
Leehan hesitates momentarily as he wonders if he’s just had the misfortune to accidentally walk in on the kinky foreplay between you and this new guy you’ve been seeing. Attending a lecture in this same building, he happened to walk by the classroom and hear a distressed voice that sounded vaguely familiar. 
Through the fogged glass material of the door, he could just barely make out your silhouette, instinctually barging in to see what was going on. 
If Leehan didn’t know you so well, he might’ve immediately bolted at the sight of you engaging in intimacy with someone else. It would be too much and he knows it would force him to confront his conflicting feelings towards you.
But the moment he meets your gaze and sees the steely, ice cold fear that’s in your eyes, his next moves are made clear. Without questioning anything, he steps forward and punches an already staggering Taesan in the face.
The punch causes Taesan to fall backward, blood that you aren’t sure is coming from his lip or his nose splattering onto the floor. You and Leehan remain frozen, you in shock at both Taesan’s actions and Leehan’s sudden presence, and Leehan with the adrenaline of becoming unexpectedly violent. 
It’s in that moment of stillness on both of your parts that Taesan has time to recover, and before you can react, he’s leaping forward to tackle Leehan onto a nearby desk.
You let out a squeal of shock as the two men struggle, causing desks and their chairs to fly around the room haphazardly in the process.
And to your horror, Taesan quickly gets the upper hand over Leehan, sitting on top of the shorter boy in a straddling position before letting his hands fly in a series of devastating punches. 
You go to pull him off but he pushes you away, forcing you then to search frantically for your phone in the hopes of calling campus security before Leehan is pulverized any further.
“Hey, is something going o—” you hear an unfamiliar voice ask, and you look up to find that you’ve been discovered by a complete stranger, a boy who you assume is another student by his shaggy attire and backpack. He answers his own question by glancing into the room and catching sight of Taesan and Leehan who are both now bleeding as they remain wrestling on the floor.
You’re just about to enlist the stranger to help you in dragging Taesan off of Leehan when, suddenly, you don’t have to. 
Realizing that the stranger’s presence could mean that even more people could arrive to inspect what’s causing all of this noise any second, you watch as the fear of getting in trouble overtakes Taesan’s expression until he’s getting up. 
He gets up and sprints out of the classroom wildly, shoulder checking the stranger in the process as he flees out of the building.
“Should I run after him?” asks the student at the door who you’re sure is still processing what he’s just seen. But more than anything else, you’re worried about Leehan, who you just saw taking several punches to the face and is laying down on the ground making strangled, agonized noises.
“No. It’s better that you scared him away. I just need to get him to the infirmary,” you reply, trying to sound more calm and controlled than you feel but hearing how your adrenaline from the past few minute’s events causes your voice to come out shaky and broken. The stranger asks if you need any help but you wave him away, deciding it would be too much of a burden to have to explain what just happened to anyone else. 
So it’s by yourself that you go to hover over Leehan’s body and try to push back the horror of seeing his face bloodied and bruised so that you can help him onto his feet.
And because most of the damage seems to be centralized on his face — maybe his back and head, too, after being tackled onto the ground — he mostly manages to stand up on his own. Though, once on his feet, he has to lean on you to avoid staggering.
“Don’t…let him…go, Y/N,” he mumbles, making you feel even more concerned and on edge as his garbled tone makes it sound like he’s one step away from passing out. “He was…hurting you, wasn’t he?”
“It’s fine, Leehan. Let’s just get you to the infirmary,” you reply dismissively, needing him to be pliant more than anything in this moment so that you can get him to your thankfully close by campus infirmary without issue. 
Your transgression with Taesan with startling and for a brief moment, terrifying. But with him now gone, the majority of your distress lies with Leehan and making sure he’s okay.
And to your relief, as you take a few steps forward with Leehan’s arm leaned over your shoulder, he remains upright and mostly autonomous in his movements.
He continues to say nothing on your way out of the building outside from the occasional groan, and you’re sure that as the adrenaline wears off that the pain in his face must become more present. You luckily make it to the infirmary moments later, where the doctor on call takes one look at Leehan’s face and immediately rushes him into a care room. 
Everything that happens after that is a bit of a blur for you. A campus security officer comes to take a statement from you. You tell him everything, giving him Taesan’s full name and picture in the hopes that it can lead to some type of action, although a part of you feels discouraged and numb at that notion.
You wait anxiously in the lobby of the infirmary, waiting for an update from the doctor and feeling like you’re gonna throw up when the older woman comes out from the hallway with a neutral, unreadable expression on her face.
“Hi ma'am. Your friend is doing just fine. All of the cuts on his face are superficial, so they’ll heal on their own. He’ll have some bruises and swelling, which will also go away with time. He does have a bit of a concussion, so we’ll send you both home with some Tylenol. If you’d like to come and see him, you can follow me.”
Though you figured that most of his injuries were minor, you still feel relieved to hear that nothing is significantly wrong; it’s irrational, but you know you would have been eaten alive with guilt had anything serious happened. 
Getting up to follow the doctor, you walk into the care room to find Leehan sitting on the edge of an examination chair, a nurse still applying little white bandaids to a cut on his cheek. When he sees you come in he smiles, though only fleetingly as the gesture causes him to wince in pain.
You don’t know what to say to him, so you opt to sit down on a chair that’s directly next to his dangling legs. You watch as the nurse goes to prod at a separate wound on his lip with a q-tip dipped in brown liquid. You don’t realize how tense you are until you feel the warmth of a hand over yours, and when you look up, Leehan is staring at you in amusement. 
“You’re shaking,” he observes, and though he can’t smirk without it causing him pain, he still gazes at you in a way that is teasing and smug. And the fact that he’s concerned about you when he’s the one who’s getting medical attention makes you let out a cynical, humorless laugh.
“Don’t worry about me. Look what he did to you.”
“I’m still good-looking, though, aren’t I?” he replies playfully, and because you’re so upset, you feel yourself almost inclined to scold him for making such jokes in light of the circumstances. But Leehan, never one to read the room or adhere to the tones and moods of others, is laughing as he commands, “You have to tell me or I’ll have an internal crisis.”
You stare at him with your eyebrows furrowed, wanting to be annoyed by him but not being able to help your smile as he continues to await your confirmation of his enduring looks with a pout. 
Rolling your eyes, it’s with a bit of resistance in your voice that you reply, “Yes, you’re still handsome, Leehan.”
He pumps his fist up in the air triumphantly, and with that, the nurse leaves the room, telling you that she’ll return with the official paperwork needed so that he can be discharged.
Once she’s gone, it’s quiet between the two of you until Leehan breaks the silence with a question. “That guy…his name’s Taesan, right?”
You’re taken aback, both at the sudden change in his tone and disposition –  his voice now serious and inquiring – and the fact that he even knows who Taesan is. “How do you know?”
“I saw you with him outside of your dorm. Asked Jaehyun who he is,” he responds plainly. And as you take in this information, you’re not sure what to say in reply. Even just knowing that he was outside of your dorm that day when Taesan came to your room and didn’t say anything makes you think he must’ve had some kind of reaction to seeing the two of you together. 
And as you put the timing together, it makes sense why you hadn’t heard from him for a week until now.
But then again, it doesn’t make sense. Because the Leehan you know, the Leehan you’ve come to resent, surely wouldn’t — shouldn't — care to see you with another guy when he’s been so adamant about keeping things non-exclusive between the two of you.
“Are you together?” he asks when you remain silent, and in what feels like a complete switch in power dynamics, you find that Leehan is the one now clearly expressing some kind of worry or at the very least interest in what you get up to when you’re not with him. 
And because you feel both vindicated to be on the other side of this sort of questioning, and not at all entitled to tell him the truth, you answer by asking, “If I said yes, what would you say?”
Leehan looks at you, all amusement absent from his expression even as he says somewhat sarcastically, “That I thought being with me meant you had better taste in men.”
His response causes you to scoff, the idea of him thinking that he’s somehow at a higher caliber than all the other similarly emotionally-unavailable men on your campus something you find absurd. 
And yes, maybe it’s because you’re already feeling a little bitter towards him that you’re then replying scathingly, “If anything, wouldn’t my interest in you mean the opposite?”
“Funny,” he says sardonically in reply. The atmosphere between the two of you currently is tense. He resents you for being with someone else and you resent him for setting boundaries for your relationship that he never intended to follow.
And yet, despite the unresolved negative emotions that are clearly swimming between the two of you, it feels absurd and crazy to say that as you continue to make unbroken and silent eye contact, you feel like he’s about to kiss you. 
That’s the sort of crazy chemistry you seem to have with one another, where even as you both have the rationality to recognize the toxicity of this dynamic you both still find yourselves magnetically pulled to one another in a way that, in most people’s eyes, would be viewed as mindless. 
But it’s just as you swear he’s leaning in that the doctor comes into the room, handing Leehan a clipboard and telling him he can go once he’s finished filling out a few forms. You wait for him, not sure what will happen once you leave but feeling almost responsible to at least see him to his apartment.
And so, you exit the hospital together, and it’s as you’re walking out that you voice to him truthfully, “It feels weird just dropping you off like you didn’t just get your face rearranged trying to save me.”
He lets out a chuckle in response, swinging his body so that he’s standing in front of you before shrugging and saying, “Then don’t drop me off. We could go to your dorm, watch a movie.”
The request to do something as simple as watch a movie sounds so foreign coming out of his mouth that you can’t help but laugh out loud. “When do we ever watch a movie?” you ask, repeating the words in disbelief. 
You’re mostly joking when you ask that, but it’s with a tiny pang of sadness that you acknowledge the tragedy of him wanting your company for something other than sex being something that’s so unbelievable.
“Today. Rocky V is probably ill-timed, but I love a good nature documentary,” he replies with a grin, and as always, you are unable to get a read on his expression to know if he is being serious or not. 
But today has been a crazy day and you know that being in your room by yourself after everything that’s happened is only going to make you feel worse. So, deciding that there’s no harm in keeping him company for just a little while longer, you allow him to lead the way to the building that he’s been to so many times. 
You know from learning your roommate’s schedule that she’ll be in a lab for the next 3 hours, a fact that makes you feel relieved as you enter your dorm with Leehan trailing behind you. He comes in and immediately collapses onto the couch, spreading his arms out on either side of the cushions in a way that brings renewed attention to his broad shoulders.
“So. Do you actually want to watch a movie?” you ask casually as you stand a few feet away from him, trying your hardest to keep any bitterness out of your tone as you watch him shrug his shoulders nonchalantly.
“You know, now that I’m here…” he says, already smirking as he watches you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “It feels like a much better idea for you to come sit on my lap.”
Even though you find yourself enticed by the invitation, in a small, distant part of your brain, it feels like you’ve been manipulated into letting him come to your room. That watching a movie had always been a lie to get you to have sex with him.
But something has changed inside of you, and from what, you can’t pinpoint. All you know is that the accumulations of lies and divertive tactics that you’ve endured from Leehan thus far has left you almost numb to his provocations. 
Instead of feeling sad or shitty or upset, you just feel nothing. 
And somehow, that change feels more concerning to you than the emotions from before did.
Still, you find yourself stalking silently to Leehan on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours as you make your way towards him. His legs spread naturally as you get between them, and it’s with a jaguar-like slowness that you crawl over his body until you’re straddling him. 
Intensity rolls off of the both of your bodies like water, the silence and shared eye contact only contributing to the growing sexual desire that builds between the two of you.
In contrast to such lust, it’s in a gesture of affection that you lean in to lay a gentle, barely-there kiss against all of the wounds on his face. The cut on his cheek. His busted bottom lip. The knot forming on the top of his head. The bruise on the side of his jaw. You do it almost in apology but also because you want him to tease him, giving him only fleeting touches and kisses before you do anything substantial. He flinches at first at the contact but eventually relaxes into the softness of your lips against him. 
And though you couldn’t articulate the reason why, you get the feeling that he flinches less out of pain, but more in surprise at the unfamiliar gesture of tenderness and how it impacts him. 
You’ve only just reached his neck, sucking hickies into the pale skin there, when you can feel his cock hardening underneath you.
It’s after you’ve kissed every single piece of skin uncovered by his shirt that you decide to relieve a bit of his suffering by reaching a hand down into the waistband of his pants. All you do is close your fist around his shaft and stroke him languidly, but you suppose your teasing worked better than you thought as he whimpers at the simplest of movements. He bucks into your hand, not afraid of seeming desperate and shamelessly moaning at your touch. 
Watching him writhe and shudder beneath you, sensitive in a way you’ve never seen before, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that this is one of the few times that you’ve felt even a semblance of control in your interactions during sex. It’s always been you on the receiving end of his endless repertoire of tactics, designed always to render you incomprehensible and under the thumb of his persuasion.
Spurred on by the observation, you take advantage of his submission to ask a question that’s been on your mind since you left the hospital. 
“Can I ask you something? Why did you ask Jaehyun who I was with?”
You can just barely make out the expression of surprise that appears faintly behind Leehan’s glassy eyes, and in a tactic that even you admit is slightly contemptible, you never stop the movements of your hand as you await his answer. 
Desperate for even a moment’s worth of vulnerability from him, you hope that by literally dangling his climax in your hands that he’ll be more inclined to be truthful with you.
But for Leehan, giving you the honest answer — that he’s simply a jealous person who can’t stand seeing you with someone else even though it’s hypocritical — would only serve in making you think that his jealousy is a sign of caring, his caring a sign of affection, his affection a sign that he wants to be your boyfriend. 
And though that assessment isn’t as easy to refute as it may have once been when he first met you, it seems idiotic to put any ideas in your head that could lead to him having to admit feelings he isn’t quite sure of yet. 
So, in lieu of the truth, he replies with something that, honestly, should be a bigger concern for him than it presently is: “Because you should tell me if you’re being intimate with someone else. What if you’re not using protection and I catch something?” 
Up until now, you had prepared yourself to react calmly to whatever Leehan’s answer would be, a task you knew would be difficult because the idea of him being jealous at all is in itself insane and backwards.
It was he who insisted that this dynamic be free of any constraints or limitations. 
But the fact that he’s implying you would have sex with someone else and be so reckless as to not make any precautions for your health has your composure breaking, a scoff leaving you as you blurt out, “Have you been honest with me about the people you’re seeing?”
It’s a question you already know the answer to as you still haven’t forgotten the night of the Halloween party, how Jaehyun let it slip that Leehan had been on a date. You’d never confronted him about it because, deep down, you felt that you had no right to. 
But now, he’s placing judgment on you in a way that makes you want to throw all caution to the wind and express your true emotions to him for what seems like the first time.
Hearing the knowing tone in your question has Leehan worried, tilting his head to stare at you as if he’s just now seeing you for the first time. “Are you trying to catch me in a lie, Y/N?” he asks, amusement in his tone though you can tell your questioning rattles him. “I’ve never told you anything that wasn’t true.”
But that’s just because you’ve never told me anything of substance, you think to yourself, reflecting back on all of the times he left your room in a hurry so that he could avoid having to show you anything real.
You continue jerking him off intently, and even though he’s obviously enjoying it, you can tell that you’ve thrown him off. During sex you’ve always maintained this sort of scathing, playful banter, but this time, he knows that your question is motivated by a genuine desire to hear the truth from him. It makes him beyond uncomfortable, especially with his dick still hard and aching in your moving hand. In a sudden change of dynamics, it’s him trying to read what you’re thinking.
Seeing this crack in Leehan’s usually guarded persona spurs you on into saying even more things that you’ve been suppressing. “I know that you’re seeing someone else,” you assert, honesty you never thought you’d be capable of expressing coming out boldly and without ambivalence. “Jaehyun told me, the night of the Halloween party.”
Your eyes are glued to Leehan’s face as you scan for the smallest fluctuation in his expression, searching desperately for any indication of what he’s thinking. And in yet another gesture that might as well be a verbal admission of guilt, Leehan stares up at the ceiling to avoid your gaze. 
Leehan – confident, cool, teasing Leehan – who has always made you feel like you were scared of intimacy for not wanting to make eye contact with him during sex, is now the one shying away the intensity of your gaze. 
The feeling of triumph that comes with finally feeling like you have him at your mercy after months of the opposite has you speeding up the movements of your hand, watching as he almost winces from the overstimulation you provide. 
But more than anything else, you want answers. 
You want to know why he thinks it’s okay to police who else you invite into your bedroom when he clearly does whatever he wants without any regard for you. 
You want him to decisively and plainly decide if he’s either a sadistic asshole who believes that he should be able to treat you like shit while he goes out and fucks whoever he wants—Or if, like you, the passion of this relationship has overwhelmed him so much that he now finds himself feeling things for you that are beyond sexual, things that have caused him to abhor the notion of you being with someone other than him.
It feels like you need the answer to that question more than you need air.
And so, it’s in desperation that your voice comes out shaky as you demand, “Say something.” 
“I can’t,” he manages through gritted teeth, the sound of his voice coming out raspy and submissive making your cunt pulse with arousal. “You’re about to make me come.”
Feeling like he’s being backed into a corner, Leehan wants to tell you to stop, but the euphoria he’s experiencing is too great. He’s never seen you be so assertive, so purposeful in doing things that you know will make him go crazy. 
Rubbing your thumb over his tip. Spitting downward so that the wetness of your spit can reach his cock. Stroking him wildly and meeting his thrusts into your fist. 
Pressure builds in his abdomen until he feels himself about to explode with what might be the most intense climax of his life. 
But in a move that shocks the both of you, it’s just as Leehan is about to finish all over your hand that you abruptly pull off of him. 
Stop the movements of your hand and watch brazenly as the realization of what you just did is processed on his face.
Maybe he thought that you were joking and that this was all just some aggressive manner of foreplay. 
But now, he can see in your shocked expression, how you look so surprised at even your own insistence, that to deny him of his pleasure in this way was something that took a lot out of you. 
It’s been a hallmark of your relationship so far for you to devote yourself to his satisfaction. You’ve always cared so much about being wanted by him, even after he’s shown his disregard for you time and time again.
And so to see you work up the courage to defy him in this way makes it clear to him that you’re not gonna drop this.
This isn’t something that he can smile or flirt his way out of in the hopes of having you wrapped around his finger for just one more day.
You’re gonna force this into being an issue. And fine; if you want to have this conversation, he’ll have it.
Even if it means that by the end of this you'll realize how shitty of a person he is and want nothing to do with him afterward.
If you were still the same pliant, conflict-avoiding Y/N, you’d be alarmed at the change in his expression and how his usual amused smirk melts into a straight-lined frown. You’d transform into the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed girl who’d laugh and pretend that this was all just a way to rile him up into fucking you, hoping that you could forget this moment ever happened.
But it feels like something has been lost in your dynamic that can never be brought back. You’re no longer okay with being lied to, manipulated. And Leehan, realizing how serious you are, seeks to take back control of this situation by flipping your bodies over so that you’re on your back and he’s on top of you. 
He pins your arms above your head, holding them down so you can’t move. 
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answers to.”
He says the statement with a warning sort of tone but it only makes you laugh, no longer able to take his provocations and vague answers seriously. “Then don’t try to act hypocritical and treat me like I’m a fucking irresponsible idiot,” you retort, no hint of banter in your words as you hope he understands how serious you’re being, how done you are with his lies. “Having sex with guys without protection and not telling them about it. How do I know you haven’t been doing the exact thing you’re accusing me of?”
You ask a valid question that Leehan sees no way to get out of answering. Clearly, you already know (because of his disloyal, talkative fucking roommate) that he’s been seeing at least one girl that isn’t you. And because he can tell with certainty that your pliance is dependent on at least some kind of honesty from him, he tells you a technical truth when he says, “Since I met you, I’ve only been fucking you. No one else. I swear.”
It’s an answer that protects him from having to further delve into whether he’s seeing anyone else romantically, an important distinction that he isn’t interested in clarifying for the sake of your continued interest in him.
And as he watches you scan his face, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you seek to find any indication of either sincerity or hypocrisy in his expression, he seizes the opportunity provided by your momentary lapse in questioning to reach past the waistband of your leggings, sticking two fingers into your pulsing cunt. 
He watches with satisfaction as even in your bitterness, you still can’t help the way your back arches and your mouth parts naturally at the action. Mirroring your tactics from before, he gives you great satisfaction in exchange for your hopeful compliance. Thrusting his long fingers inside of you, he mumbles in sensual truth, “Your pretty, wet pussy is the only thing that’s been occupying my brain for the last three months.”
The part of your brain that would question the credibility of his words is turned off like a lightswitch as the thrill from his fingers takes over. As much as you try to fight off what you’re experiencing so that you can regain the upper hand, it feels like it’s almost in revenge that he fingers you with such vigor that you can’t speak. 
“Can you say the same? Huh, pretty?” he demands, digits angled just right so that the tips of his fingers repeatedly push against your most sensitive parts. “Tell me I’m the only person whose been fucking orgasms into your cunt.”
You could usually appreciate such possessive sentiments from Leehan when they were spoken in moments where there wasn’t any lingering resentment between the two of you. Now, they only annoy you, causing you to petulantly reply in mocking of his earlier words, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”
And in a move that is surely in imitation of your earlier actions, he pulls his fingers out of you completely and with them, your orgasm. His expression is a handsome mixture of annoyance and frustration. 
It feels like the two of you are in some sort of scornful, unspoken competition, you trying to get him to be honest and him trying to get you to drop this entirely. And all of this undercut by the fact that both really wanna fuck each other, only adding to the frustration of your pleasure being taken away. 
Though your body reels regretfully from the sudden drop in adrenaline, it’s with an unmoved expression on your face that you sit up, making yourself level with him. 
“What?” you retort derisively, amused to find him upset at tactics you only know because he modeled them for you so many times before. “Does it make you mad?”
“No,” he answers, a fierce expression on his face that lets you know despite the desire radiating between the two of you that he’s being serious when he says, “It makes me question the type of person you are.”
And as you poke his chest assertively, you reply, “A person abiding by the standards that you set,” reminding him once more how he lacks the right to feel entitled to your body. 
You again question why he continues to insist that a no-strings attached arrangement is what he wants when it’s clear he doesn’t want you with anyone else.
And so, it’s in your confusion that you ask, “I’m giving you exactly what you want. So why does it feel like you’re punishing me?”
“This isn’t what I want,” he says in reply. And the way that he says it almost quietly, like a stream-of-consciousness that was accidentally blurted out loud, has you inclined to believe that maybe, he’s finally coming around to seeing just how poorly suited this arrangement is for the both of you.
So, it’s with a curious tilt to your voice that you ask, “Then what do you want?”
Looking at you with a sort of urgent, unyielding expression on his face, it’s after a moment of intense and searing silence between the two of you that he leans in to kiss you roughly. What was once a moment of willful competition between the two of you now becomes intense and panicked as the passion of the last few moments takes over your bodies. 
Your hands move in a frenzy as you rush to take off one another’s clothes, and you get the feeling that had the fabric provided any real obstacle, you both would’ve been willing to rip each other’s pants and tops off. Actualizing your desire for one another becomes the most important and serious task to have ever been endeavored upon.
You’ve only just removed your final article of clothing when Leehan crawls between your legs, finding you soaked and pulsing in anticipation of his touch. Noticing this, he can feel himself going crazy with all of the unanswered questions he has about you and Taesan. He finds himself vocalizing these thoughts shamelessly as he mumbles, “Fuck, Y/N. I need you to be honest with me. Because if someone else has had this pussy, I’m gonna go crazy.”
“Make me come, and I’ll give you a straight answer,” you defiantly reply.
Tired of your games, it’s in expression of his growing impatience that Leehan slaps your pussy uncaringly. The act sends a jolt of shock through your body but especially your clit, making you moan in a mixture of both pain and pleasure. 
“I’m serious, Y/N,” he says, and rather than being amused by his insistence like you were before, it's for the first time that you find yourself intimidated, as well as turned on. “Tell me the truth.”
Leehan has always been the leader in your sexual dynamic, but you’d never describe him as rough or dominant until now. Rattled by the change, you aren’t able to manage a reply to his demand, but it’s then that Leehan raises himself up so that your faces are level. 
Making sure to keep his eyes on yours this time, he pushes three fingers inside of your aching cunt — more than you’ve ever taken from him and enough to have your eyes rolling back upon impact.
“Tell me that this pussy is mine,” he demands as he fucks you open with his fingers. You’ve never seen him this fired-up, this crazed, and it has you more turned on and pliant than you think you’ve ever been before. 
His fingers thrust in and out of you with strength you’ve never felt before, and in an amount of time that you find to be pathetic, you can feel your stomach tensing with an approaching climax, moans leaving your mouth with every breath and every curl of his fingers. 
But for the second time tonight, Leehan notices you’re about to come and rips it away from you by withdrawing his fingers entirely. And unlike before, you can’t pretend not to be dismayed as you whimper wistfully at the loss of contact. Leehan, unamused, only stares at you from above and says with finality in his tone, “Tell me the truth, and I’ll make you come.”
You can see now how serious he’s being, how important this is to him, and though you find it entirely irrational, the pulsing of arousal in your body is too strong to ignore. 
“I never fucked him. He never touched me until today.”
“And anyone else besides him?”
“There’s no one else, Leehan,” you assure him, body wracked with the weight of several heavy breaths as you practically beg for him to believe you, to touch you, to relieve the almost painful aching of your cunt. “Just you.”
You’re pleasantly surprised when he doesn't require any additional scrutiny before accepting your answer at face value, muttering an approving “Good girl,” before diving between your legs.
And you guess by the almost hungry, desperate way he then proceeds to eat you out that his easy acceptance of your word is just as much in service to his own desire to taste you as it is to you and your enjoyment. 
Because you find not just in this instance but always that Leehan gives head like his survival is dependent on your arousal. He licks and sucks and mouths at your clit, moaning languidly into your core like it's the best thing he’s ever tasted. 
And as if that’s not enough to have you reeling, he brings his hand out from underneath your thigh and puts two long, crooked fingers back into your dripping hole, thrusting and curling them inside of you like he’s intent on finding the spot that will make you scream. You throw your head back and close your eyes at the feeling that washes over your body, something like electricity pulsing through you and making your legs shake. 
Without intending it, your hips buck against his tongue in chase of your impending orgasm. And when he flattens the wet muscle, allowing you the agency to take your pleasure rather than him having to give it to you, it’s only seconds later when you feel your abdomen contracting with the intensity of your long awaited orgasm. 
You’ve barely recovered from the high of your climax when you hear Leehan saying tauntingly from above you, “See? No one else can do that as good as I can.” He then spreads your legs apart, admiring the mess he’s made of you, slick turning your inner thighs shiny and wet. ”Don’t you know now why you shouldn’t fuck anyone else?
Refusing him the satisfaction of an answer, your only response is to sit up and tell him, “Lay down. I wanna ride you.
Leehan’s only show of resistance to this request is a raise of his eyebrow, but he’s otherwise pliant as you maneuver on the couch so that he’s flat on his back. You hover just below his hard-as-a-rock erection, realizing you should go and get a condom, but it feels like an ultimate test of both your honesty that you assertively inform him, “I’m on birth control.”
Understanding what you mean to imply with this admission, you watch as Leehan’s eyes gloss over, another wave of lust taking over at the notion of having raw sex. In a distant part of your brain that isn’t completely corrupted by wanting, you wonder if this is a good idea given that you have no way of proving whether he’s been honest about his sexual history with other girls.
But as you unconsciously scoot closer and allow his cock to brush against your folds, his encouragement of “Then sit on it,” ringing pleasantly in your ears, the only thing that delays you is your desire to further tauny him. 
“Look at me,” you command passionately, holding on just barely to your own composure as you fight to get these words out amidst your own lust-corrupted brain. “If you stop, I stop. I want you to look in my eyes when I make you come.”
Leehan, either ignorant to how serious you’re being or uncaring, whimpers out your name in lieu of any indication that he understands and accepts what you’re saying. You sink down on him anyway and allow the feeling of being filled to the brim by his long, veiny cock to wipe out any and all thoughts out of your mind. 
“Oh my god, fuck,” he mumbles out in expression of how good it feels, after you’ve only just began bouncing your body up and down his cock. You bear witness to the moment when the embrace of your tight walls becomes too much for him and he throws his head back, disregarding your words from earlier. 
And although it hurts you to do so, makes your thighs burn and your lips part to let out a regretful whimper, you pull yourself upwards until his cock slips out of you completely.
“Open your eyes,” you demand assertively, not just for his sake but for your own, so that you can go back to riding the life out of him until you both can come. “Show me why you deserve this. Remind me why I keep letting you fuck me.”
The scathing remark and the brazen expression you wear as you say it causes Leehan to regain his focus, returning his gaze to yours and making sure to maintain it even as your reinsertion of his cock has him fighting not to shut his eyes closed. It’s with a feeling of regretful foreboding that Leehan realizes this is probably going to end way too soon, that the sickening combination of you riding him, your dominant and sultry words, the view of your body from above him, and the intense unbroken eye contact all work in service to his quickly approaching climax. 
And even as you too feel yourself inching closer and closer to the point of incomprehensible return, you keep talking, feelings that you’ve been suppressing for too long coming out in sultry, brokenly-spoken expressions. “I want you to savor this moment. Memorize how it feels to be inside of me,” you tell him, and then, leaning down to bite the tip of his ear, you whimper, “Fuck Leehan. You’re so big.”
Your purposeful usage of all the things you know for a fact rile him up the most is not lost on him, and it’s almost like you want him to come as quickly and embarrassingly as possible. He lingers on that thought for less than a few seconds, but even just the fleeting idea of spilling his seed inside of you has his brain entering a whole nother level of depraved and uncontrolled, until he’s muttering out the word “Fuck,” in repeated succession and thrusting up into you wildly. “Gonna come,” he announces only seconds later.
“I know you are, baby. And when you do, remember that I can only make you feel this good,” you reply, surprised at your own ability to sound assured and in control in the midst of your own fast-approaching orgasm. But in a way, it feels like you grow more confident the more you watch his verbal and motor skills deteriorate with every bounce and squeeze of your pussy against his cock. 
Making grunting sounds as his thrusts become sloppy and uncontrolled, he replies through gritted teeth, “I know. You’re my favorite girl, Y/N.”
You’ve always hated that term because of the implication it makes that there are other girls with whom he's comparing you to. But as you commit to fighting off all of the weak, vulnerable, sad emotions that have now only rendered you numb, it’s in another show of control that you reply, “Then say it. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”
At first, you aren’t sure if Leehan can even manage a reply as you watch him grow focused and intent on his approaching orgasm. But it’s through a mixture of muffled grunts and whines, his hips never ceasing their thrusts into you, that he begins to speak.
“Your pussy was made for me. It’s all I ever think about. The sex we have – nghh – it’s the best I’ve ever had,” he tells you emphatically. 
And the brokenness of his words, the way they come out rushed and passionate as if a suppressed part of him needs you to hear them, has you feeling profoundly impacted by the weight of them. 
“You make me crazy, Y/N. I don’t want anyone else. Only you—” 
It’s with one final rough, definitive thrust that Leehan comes inside of you. You’re overcome by the feeling of his hot, warm cum filling your walls, pussy clenching around him as you too experience another orgasm. And as you both recover from your highs, you can feel the atmosphere becoming almost instantaneously stuffy and awkward, the realization of what just happened and all of the things you allowed to come out in the heat of the moment hitting you all at once.
Wanting nothing more than to be released from the clutches of this regretful moment, you pull yourself off of him and wince at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and onto your inner thighs, some of it spilling onto the couch. 
And without ceremony, Leehan does what he does best – he gathers his clothes and things and begins to put them on as if nothing happened.
The silence that overcomes the two of you as you sit naked and uncovered on the opposite couch, watching him change, is unlike either of you. You’d usually at the very least manage  a few words about how good that was, or small talk about anything fun happening soon on campus. Had Leehan been any good with silence, he might’ve just walked out and not said anything to you at all. 
But it’s because of his own manipulative and egotistical desire to continue to remain in your good graces that he says, in desperation to ease the tension, “Hey. By the way, I’m sorry about the picture I sent you. I don’t usually read your messages, so I didn’t see what you had sent me beforehand.”
You stare at him, a mixture of disbelief and hostility coming over you all at once.
Having completely forgotten about the dick picture incident until now, you feel the emotions from then coming back up in a way that feels shocking given the relative inoffensiveness of his apology just now.
It’s hard for you to pinpoint what exactly about the statement sets you off. 
Maybe it’s that you just had the most intimate, soul-baring sex, and now he’s basically back to reminding you of just how little he values you and your personhood. 
How easy it is for him to completely ignore anything you say to him if it has nothing to do with him and his own pleasure.
And with these emotions more than likely reflected on your face, you watch as Leehan — like a startled deer in headlights — makes what are perhaps the quickest efforts he’s ever done to leave your dorm in a hurry.
“I should get back,” he’s replying coldly as he gets up, throwing his jacket over his body so fast that it folds awkwardly along his sides. “But thanks for this.”
This, he says casually. As if his seed isn’t currently wetting the inside of your legs right now.
“But Leehan, the rain—” you insist. Because you can hear thunder rattling your windows outside and you know that to walk home to his apartment is an entirely irrational notion.
“Don’t worry about me,” he tells you, already halfway to your door as he turns around to look at you, something like regret painted all over his passive expression. “We don’t do that for each other, remember?
And it’s with that last parting, ominous statement that you watch Leehan leave your dorm room without another look in your direction. He’s left your room like this — in a hasty blur without a word or an acknowledgement — more times than you can possibly count. 
So why you find yourself overcome with the feeling that this may be the last time you’ll ever see him again, you’re not entirely sure. 
But it’s because of that gnawing, persistent feeling, eating at you like it never has before, that you get up and find a robe to throw over your body so that you can go and find Leehan before it’s too late.
You’re not even sure of what you’re going to say when you find him standing on the outside porch of your building, head down and phone in his hand as he waits for an Uber. All you know is that it’s pouring buckets outside and even with the bit of roofing over your heads, the wind still blows rain onto your bodies, rendering his hair and face wet. 
“Leehan,” you call out, watching as he turns to you and automatically freezes up as he realizes you followed him out here. “Wait. Don’t go.”
It’s at least a little bit understandable why Leehan appears taken-aback by your words and your presence — any other time you’ve had sex, you’ve never once tried to get him to stay behind, even though he could always notice in your expression or quiet intensity that you wanted him to.
So the fact that you’re here telling him not to go, and because of the nature of the sex you just had, it’s like he already knows that you’re planning to pour your heart out to him, and it’s in fear of that that he finds himself saying wearily, “Y/N—”
“No. Let me talk,” you assert before he can finish, a part of you feeling like if you don’t get these words out now, you never will. And so, fueled by the unexplainable feeling that this may be the last chance for you to tell him how you feel, you channel all the confidence you can possible muster and allow all the suppressed emotions from the last three months to spill out without any filter.
“After we have sex, I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay because you like being with me. I want you to fall asleep with me. I want you to see me and treat me like I’m a human being and not some physical object that you use for sex and nothing else,” you exclaim with a self-pitying scoff.
“And I tried being the chill girl who just goes along with things that are casual. But Leehan, you make me feel things that no one ever has, and it’s not just the sex. For the past few months…it’s felt like my life only truly felt worth living if you were noticing me.”
You can plainly tell by Leehan’s stiff body language and overall lack of reaction that this entire spiel is making him uncomfortable. And as discouraging as the reaction is, now that you’ve started, it feels like you can’t stop until he knows everything that he’s put you through to get to this point.
“And maybe I only feel that way because when we fuck, it’s not like some one-night-stand or throwaway shit. It truly feels like I’m baring my soul to you. And I know that it’s not one sided,” you remark with confidence. Because being in bed with Leehan is the only time when you feel like you can truly understand him. It’s when your hearts, minds, and bodies are in sync and you can both be at your most vulnerable with each other.
“But then you leave, just like you’re doing now. And it makes me feel like the most massive piece of shit you can possibly imagine,” you mumble out with a broken, wet laugh.
Coming to the end of your spiel, you let your arms come down to your sides defeatedly, and with one last imploring look to Leehan’s blank and starry eyes, you ask the question that has been haunting you for the better part of three months now. “So what I guess I want to know is…what is it that’s stopping you from going all in with me? Is it that I’m just…not enough for you to want anything more than sex?” you question, insecurities that have been welling up for so long coming out in a way that has your voice sounding broken. “Or are you just too scared of commitment to allow yourself to feel loved?
“Because that’s exactly what I feel for you. And god dammit, Leehan, but I’m almost 80% sure you feel that way for me too.”
When you’re sure that there’s nothing else left to say and that you got everything you wanted to explain out, it’s with a relieving sigh that your body expels the weight of three months’ worth of pain, sadness, and thoughts of worthlessness. 
And because you know it must be a lot to be on the receiving end of the heaviness of those words, it’s not surprising that the next few seconds after you finish speaking are filled by silence. Watching Leehan stare at you intensely, you allow him the time and the grace to process what he’s heard before you jump to assuming the worst of his silence. 
But then, his first words to you hit you like an icy blast of wind. 
“Y/N, you’re a good person. And the time we’ve spent together has been so much fun for me. But this has always been just that for me…fun. Sex,” he says unambivalently, framing the words delicately though it does nothing to prevent them from hitting you like a freight train. “And I’m sorry if I ever did or said anything that gave you an impression otherwise.
“But honestly, Y/N…” he continues, looking away from you and losing the ability to sugarcoat his thoughts as he expresses, “I told you from the forefront what this was. Why did you say yes if it wasn’t what you wanted?”
He asks a valid question that you unfortunately don’t have the answer to. Because honestly, what were you thinking? Looking back at that moment when he first proposed this arrangement, you have to wonder what possessed you to be delusional enough to think that this would possibly end well.
As embarrassing and humiliating it is to admit, it’s the sex. All those times he told you he desired you, how beautiful you were, how much he wanted you, made you feel like maybe he just didn’t know what he wanted. That eventually he’d come around.
“Because I didn’t think that it was that important to you,” you tell him, feeling your confidence shrinking in real time as your voice comes out quiet and whiny. “I thought…I thought you were changing your mind.”
“I don’t think we should keep doing this, Y/N,” he declares in reply, looking down at the ground in embarrassment. “I like you a lot, but I can’t continue on if I know you have the expectation that this is gonna blossom into something more. I’m sorry, but it’s just not.”
And with that last sobering pronouncement, Leehan runs a hand through his hair, an obviously fake chuckle let out of his lips as he seeks to break the awkwardness of this atmosphere. “This really wasn’t how I wanted this to go,” he mumbles out apologetically, and the way that he stands there stiffly lets you know he wants nothing else than to get away from you right now. 
And sure enough, the sound of a notification going off draws both of your attention to his phone. Like a final dagger to your heart and self-esteem, he’s not even able to hide the relief that floods his expression as he announces, “My Uber’s here, so I just…goodbye, Y/N.”
You watch Leehan step off the porch and into the rain, the lack of light and storm clouds rendering him into nothing more but a blurry, gray silhouette. 
It’s how you will more than likely remember Leehan as you watch him enter the white Mazda that pulls into the driveway. 
Watch the car drive off knowing that you will more than likely never see him again.
He will forever be immortalized in your brain as the stormy force of a presence that came into your life like a tornado, wrecking everything around it and exiting like nothing happened, leaving you a splintered mess of a world to clean up for yourself.
You will be just another Natty, someone Leehan offhandedly mentions to his friends in the car with whoever he chooses to be his next victim, someone he spent a good few weeks with only to never mention them again.
“You’re an enigma, Kim Leehan,” you declared with sincerity. “I don’t want to be your girlfriend either. No offense.”
“None taken,” he replied with breezy indifference, bringing his hand to lay over the one you have on his face. “But don’t say that so easily. You don’t know me well enough yet.”
You rolled your eyes at yet another show of cockiness from him. “And are you saying if I did, I would fall for you?”
Even as his expression remained passive, he replied forebodingly, “Isn’t that usually how these things end?”
He was right.
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The next two months of not seeing, talking, or hearing from Leehan go by in a gray-ish, incomprehensible blur.
You complete your classes, managing a passing GPA and thankfully holding on to your scholarship.
You go out to lunch and on study dates with your mutual friends, neglecting to explain why you always need to know who else is coming before you agree to going out.
You attend a couple parties and events on campus, wondering each time whether you’ll run into Leehan and not sure if the rigid feeling over your chest is because of hopefulness or fear at the idea of possibly seeing him. 
And as you pack up your things to get ready to move out for the winter, it feels like you should be over this by now. You spent three months together. Tumultuous, but still only three – it doesn’t seem to make sense why you still feel so hurt.
But you’re now learning that situationships are the hardest to comprehend in their aftermath because it’s hard to know what exactly it is that you’re feeling wistful towards. Leehan isn’t your ex, but he’s also not a friend whom you simply grew apart from. 
He’s another third thing that you can’t quite capture, making it difficult for you to reminisce on your exciting yet tainted memories with one another.
It’s with these thoughts running through your mind that you finish packing your last few items of furniture, readying them to be stowed away in the back of a U-Haul you rented for the day. 
And with your dorm now basically empty, your roommate having moved out a few days before, you can’t help but to view it nostalgically from the vantage point of your doorway, memories of this semester’s escapades coming back to you all at once.
The dresser that you let Leehan stash his condoms in.
Your cheap bed whose loose, metal springs always robbed you of any chance at secrecy in your interactions. 
Moving towards your kitchenette, you stare silently at the flowers he gifted you that one day, still alive despite several weeks of neglect. The little cardboard fish he stuck between the petals makes it appear almost like they’re swimming among colorful, sagging coral reefs.
Your eyes flit over to your couch, where you didn’t know at the time would be the last place he fucked you before he’d never talk to you again.
Going over these memories in your mind, it makes sense then why when you hear a knock resounding on your door, the first thing you think of is Leehan.
But surely, you’re just caught up in the emotions caused by the sudden moment of reflection; it has to be an RA, or a neighbor about to ask if they can borrow a broom and dustpan.
When you go to open your door, you don’t consider for a second that on the other end could be the one person you’re not prepared to see right now.
So when it swings open and you’re greeted by a straight-faced, wide-eyed Leehan, whose body is relaxed against the side of your door, it feels like all of the air is knocked out of your body.
“Hi,” he says plainly, straightening his posture when he sees you staring at him staggeringly. To say that you feel conflicted as you take in his handsome, tall form would be beyond an understatement. It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long since you’ve seen each other, and it’s almost like he could tell you right now that he’s here because he wants to fuck you and it would feel normal, like nothing has changed between the two of you.
But even in just making that mental observation, you feel angry and resentful that such a dynamic was normalized among the two of you for so long that you convinced yourself it was okay to be treated that way.
And as you stew in those feelings of renewed bitterness and frustration, you find yourself suddenly and strongly opposed to him being here, asking bluntly, “What is this? Why are you here?”
“I’m here to apologize,” he answers with an imploring look, and habitually you study his expressions in the hopes of discerning whether he’s being sincere or not.
But it’s with a feeling of resignation that you realize how done you are with trying to constantly read his mind and understand what motivates his decisions.
Because the same way there’s a chance that he really did show up here with good intentions, there’s just as equal a chance that he wants you to trust him again so that he can get his dick wet.
And so, in a move that brings you an immature level of satisfaction, you close the door on his face without another word.
You hear him exclaiming loudly “Y/N, wait!” on the other side of the door but you’ve already made up your mind, deciding that whatever he has to say isn’t worthy of your time or attention.
You’re done with his manipulative behavior, with his aloofness and undeserved self-assuredness, but most of all you’re tired of being made to feel like shit. And that’s all he ever did in those few months that you were sleeping together.
As you retreat to your bedroom, you go to return to packing your things, but the adrenaline from the passing moment makes your hand shake and your body pulse energetically. You need a second to pause and breathe and process what’s just happened, to walk around and pace away all of this unresolved energy. 
But then you turn around to go back out into your living room, and that’s when you see Leehan standing right outside the arch of your bedroom doorway.
“Jesus fucking christ, Leehan!” you exclaim in a mixture of both surprise, frustration, and confusion as you wonder whether he broke in or if you—
“You left the door unlocked,” he replies calmly, and even though he knows he has a lot to make up for, he still can’t help the smirk that comes to his face as he jokes, “Kinda 101 not to do that if you don’t want someone coming in. That’s like me leaving the filter of my fish tank —”
“Get out, Leehan. Get out! I have nothing left I want to say to you!” you shout, impatient and uncaring to his jokes and his dimples and everything else about him that used to charm you. It’s all meaningless to you now, and you don’t care if you look crazy or unhinged when you go to physically push him out of your dorm.
But even with the nonchalant, noncommittal way he holds onto your wrist to restrain you, you still only manage to move him a few steps, much to your dismay and rage.
And so, in a heat-of-the-moment, emotionally driven decision, you move to close your bedroom door on his face. While successful in keeping him out of your bedroom, you don’t even realize until seconds later that he’s still free to roam in your hallway, kitchenette, and living room, while you’ve essentially just locked yourself in.
Predictably, you can hear Leehan chuckling outside of your door as he makes this same realization.
“You know, if it was your goal to get me to leave, then I’m not sure locking yourself in your room really…” he begins to say, not able to keep the amusement out of his voice at the foolish mistake on your part. But, remembering the reason why he came here in the first place, he tones it down to say soberly, “Nevermind. It doesn't matter.”
You walk over to the side of your bedroom that’s opposite from the doorway, sitting down on the floor, determined to tune out whatever it is that Leehan is about to say. Maybe if you stay silent and let him tire himself out, he’ll eventually leave knowing that there’s nothing he can say to make up for how he’s made you feel.
“I”m not super good at explaining myself, or talking at all, honestly. I go on tangents and my mind is just…a giant fucking minefield. So I wrote down what I wanted to tell you.”
Leehan’s voice is distorted but nonetheless able to be heard clearly through the thin wood that makes up your door, so much so that you can clearly hear the crumpling noises of a paper being unraveled as he starts to read. 
“If you’re listening to me read this, it’s because I somehow managed to convince you to hear me out. Either that, or I broke into your dorm, which feels like the more likely option,” he says with almost no emotion behind the words, and against your own discipline, you can feel your lips twitching into a smirk automatically in reaction to his strange, off putting way of speaking.
“I know my insistence can come off as crass given how shitty of a person I’ve been to you. But I knew that today was move-out day, and I needed you to hear me out before you left.”
You hear him take a deep breath before continuing with the next part of his speech. “As you know, I’m a pretty fearless person. But when it comes to admitting my feelings for you, I’ve had a much harder time. Truthfully, since I met you, it’s been because of my own immaturity that I’ve seen other girls romantically. Even though I always knew my feelings for you were different, I pushed them away in the hopes of avoiding having to commit to anyone. When you told me how you really felt for me, truthfully, it scared me. I didn’t want to know what my life would look like if I decided to be with just one person.
“I thought that by rejecting you, by being away from you for this long, that my feelings for you would go away,” he remarks with the same sort of unfeeling, neutral tone to his voice, as if he knows the explanation behind his actions is unimportant given how they’ve impacted you. “I wanted to view you as just another name on a long list.”
But it’s with his next words that passion and sincerity and longing bleed into his voice all at once to say, “But it’s taken me this time of being away from you to realize that…I’m still not over you.”
After minutes of hanging onto his every word despite every inclination that has been telling you to do otherwise, it’s those last five words that hit you like a freight train. 
And you know it’s foolish and dumb to be believing anything that comes out of his mouth anymore, but you suppose it’s no different from all of the other times you continued to let him in even when he showed you so many times why you shouldn’t. 
Your reasoning remains the same – you just feel an irrational pull to him that is all-consuming, your heart connected to his in a way you can’t control. 
And it doesn’t help that everything he says next is all of the affirmation you’ve been wanting and needing him to give you throughout your entire time of sleeping together. “You deserve someone that’s going to treat you with respect. Someone that makes you feel loved and beautiful and desired. Someone with the courage to be vulnerable and who will care for you in your most vulnerable moments. And I’m sorry if you felt like you didn’t have that with me,” he remarks, and you don’t even realize you’ve been holding your breath throughout his spiel until your chest literally contracts from the lack of air to your lungs.
“But if you can find some way to forgive me, then I want to make us work,” he asserts pleadingly. And with the finality that it feels like follows that statement, you get the feeling that what he says next is no longer being read off the paper. 
Especially when you can hear what you think is the top of his head, leaned against the door with a small thunk as he quietly laments, “I want you, Y/N. Not just sexually, but for everything that makes you who you are. It’s always been you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.” 
It’s quiet after that, so much so that you can hear his small and broken breaths being let out against the wall. You hear what you think is the sound of his hand being brought up to rest next to his head. And as the feeling of being pulled in so many directions takes over you, your heart in a heated battle with your brain, it’s after a few moments of silence that you stand up and walk over towards the door. 
Leehan, observing the shadows of your footsteps through the little gap at the bottom of the door, perks up when it’s just a thin barrier of wood that keeps you from being face-to-face with one another.
You prepare yourself to be annoyed when you open the door in expectation that he will be his usual unreadable, unserious self. 
But it’s in surprise but also a little relief that what you find when you face him is the expression of a man who’s truly understood the gravity of his mistakes and feels shameful over them.
“You look really pretty,” he blurts out, the suddenness of the remark almost betraying your slowly but surely growing feelings of understanding towards him. But you also can’t help that his random candor makes you laugh, reminded of some of your earlier interactions as he sheepishly says, “Sorry, bad timing.”
Still standing a fair distance away from him, the tip of your toes just barely meeting the tip of his as you look down at them to avoid eye contact, you attempt to ease the tension of the moment with a shy but truthful, “Thank you, Leehan. For the compliment and for the apology.”
You can feel the heat of his gaze as he tilts his head to stare at you, his attention feeling hopeful but not in a way that makes you feel pressured, but in a way that has you compelled to be completely vulnerable and honest with him.
“I’m just…really scared that you’ll hurt me,” you confess somberly, and it still feels strange to even say things like this to him because you’ve spent so much time suppressing your negative emotions when it comes to Leehan. Scared that you’d lose his approval and feeling like you needed such approval to feel good about yourself.
But over time as your relationship progressed and you found yourself little by little regaining the sense of self that your interactions with Leehan robbed you of, you were able to realize that you didn’t deserve to be treated like an afterthought, like an object only useful if it was giving satisfaction to someone else.
And it was in resentment that over these two months of not speaking you felt like Leehan believed that, too.
But now after hearing him explain himself and believing genuinely that he wants to be with you, you now battle with the parts of you that are scared to believe him in fear of getting hurt and the parts of you that so badly also want to be in a relationship with him.
“I’m not scared,” he tells you, the confidence you’ve come to know him for coming out more strongly than ever before. “I’ve got you, remember?”
He then goes to place his two middle fingers underneath your chin, pushing your jaw upward so that you’re forced into eye contact. Staring into his endless and piercing eyes, it’s for the first time that you feel like you understand him in a non-sexual context. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” you mumble quietly in reply.
And it’s as you feel your lips twitching into a content smile that Leehan leans in to kiss you, and you accept the gesture without question.
five months later
“I wanna go half on a baby with you.”
These are the words that Leehan remarks to your sleeping form as you lay comfortably beside him in bed, sleeping but getting roused into attention by the faint sound of his voice.
“A fish baby, of course,” he clarifies, though you don’t even register what he’s saying as you remain half-asleep. “I think the ones in my tank are getting lonely.”
It’s hard to tell sometimes whether Leehan is musing out loud to himself or talking directly to you, but either way, the deep tone of his voice wakes you up just the same. 
You lay on your stomach, opening one eye to find him sitting up on his elbow and staring down at you with a curious expression on his face. His hand, resting on your back, draws unintelligible figures on the skin that’s left uncovered by your night shirt. 
All in all, it's a pretty domestic, intimate scene, had you not glanced over at your phone to find how early it was.
“Leehan, it’s seven a.m,” you complain to your boyfriend who still just stares dreamily at your sleepy figure. “What are you yapping about?”
Too familiar with your morning grumpiness to be phased by it, it’s with an unmoved expression that Leehan casually replies, “Just about how much I want a baby with you.”
When you hear those words come out of Leehan’s mouth, you’re sure you must still be asleep and that this is just an incredibly vivid dream. Either that, or you’re dating the strangest person in the world. 
Given that both realities are entirely plausible, it’s in your tiredness and confusion that you sit up from the bed completely, staring at a relaxed Leehan with raised eyebrows. “Don’t you think we’re a little young for that? I mean eventually, sure, but while we’re in school—”
“I was talking about fish,” he interrupts you to say, chuckling at your confused expression and giggling again when you pout at being laughed at. “But since you’re so eager, why don’t I put a baby in you right now?”
Your own laughter in reaction to his words is suppressed when he presses a large hand on your stomach, pushing you back down on the bed. He leans in to kiss you, but per usual, you refuse to make things easy for him.
Reaching behind your head, you grab a pillow and smack him in the face with it, creating a barrier between your bodies. “You’re such a weirdo,” you playfully quip, a designation he only takes in stride as he goes to throw the pillow somewhere on the floor.
“I’m your weirdo though,” he emphasizes, and it’s as you’re both smiling in satisfaction that he leans in to press his lips against yours.
And as his cold hands roam your warm body, you’re hit with a sudden wave of happiness as you acknowledge how far gone the days of having to wish for him to stay even fir minutes after you’ve had sex truly are. 
Because in the past five months since you’ve gotten together exclusively, not only is it routine for him to stay behind, but you also get to wake up together and experience these sleepy, romantic moments. 
The moments when he slowly kisses down your body, dragging his plush lips down your sternum until he’s positioned between your legs.
The moments when you pull softly at his hair as he languidly drags his tongue up and down your folds, begging you in his gruff, sleep-affected voice to come all over his face.
The moments when you could be sponning sideways, on top of him, or below him and he’ll still find a way to spread your legs apart, pressing his long, veiny cock inside of you until you’re overwhelmed by how full you are. 
The moments where his tiredness renders him impatient and he fucks into you so roughly that you can barely form words. 
The moments when he kisses you lazily through every thrust until the sex becomes so good that all you can manage is the occasional swipe of your tongue against his lips or a whimper into his mouth.
The moments when you reach your climax together and he rocks his come in and out of you like he never intends on pulling out.
The moment when you moan out his name, understanding why when you first met he insisted that to know it was a privilege. That to know him is a privilege.
And finally, your favorite, the moments when you either fall back asleep in each other’s hold or get up to shower the sleepiness and sweat off of each other. 
Today is one of those days that you relent to getting up and showering, convinced only by the fact that neither of you has a morning class, making it a perfect day to visit the pet shop conveniently located just a few miles from your college town.
“What about this one?” 
You turn to face Leehan in the fish tank lined aisle of the pet store, lips curling into a smile as you observe him pressing his face up to the glass in awe. As you come up to his side to view the brown-colored fish that have him so captivated, it’s in a surge of honesty that you reply, “Don’t you think they’re kind of…ugly?”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you watch your boyfriend gasps dramatically in reaction to your words, even brushing his hand against the fish tank in a gesture akin to patting someone's head. “They can hear you, you know. I’m so sorry, fishies.”
Ignoring his childishness, you look around at the surrounding fish and sigh as you’re overwhelmed by all the different options. “Honestly, Leehan, you should just pick one. They all look the same to me.”
“But it should be something we both like,” he answers with a pout, circling the aisles a few more times before finally stopping at a tank in the very corner. 
Inside of it are an array of multi-colored fish, but the one that stands out to you is an entirely white one with a patch of vibrant red at the top of its head. 
It would be indistinguishable from a goldfish had it not been for its striking color and the appendage that looks almost like an inside-out brain on its head. 
A label beside the tank reads Oranda. 
“What about this one?” asks Leehan in curiosity, and in an almost alarming way, he points out the exact same fish you were just eyeing. 
You come around to the other side of the tank to view it from another angle, giggling innocently when you make eye-contact with Leehan through the distorted lens of the water. “It’s pretty,” you remark simply, and because Leehan has come to know you so well, he knows that the simple attribution is a sign of high praise from you.
“Should we make it ours?” he asks you officially, and though you’re certain that this is the fish you’ve been looking for, there’s one question popping up in your brain that you still can’t find the answer to.
“What should we name it?”
You both take a beat to ponder on the question. Leehan chimes in first, blurting out, “I know. Loony.”
At this, you scoff, unsure as to where he would have gotten such an idea from. “Are you trying to say that our child is crazy?” you quip in feigned offense. 
“No. It’s short for lunar eclipse. That’s when I knew we were gonna be more than just a one night stand,” he tells you sincerely, and with that context you find yourself becoming quickly attached to both the name and the fish who you take home in a plastic bag only moments later.
You allow Leehan to take the lead in homing Loony, a process that involves lots of complicated jargon about adjusting the water temperature and changing the salinity that you mostly pretend to understand as he explains it to you. 
And when you are finally able to sit side by side in front of the tank and watch through the glass as Loony swims among the other fish, it’s with an adoring tone of voice that you hear Leehan say, “It’s pretty, awesome, right?”
At the sound of his voice, you turn to face him, and without being entirely conscious of it, you simply take in his features and how content he looks to be here, with you and with these fishes.
“Yeah,” you reply, laying down and resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s awesome.”
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taglist: @lailols @papichulomacy @0310s @softiwoon @gardenforwon @cherrytaesan @mryuyux @saintriots @lonelylandofan @cyber-tiny @keyywrld @isabellah29 @amerecerasus @cadidupped @suhovhs @lionhanie @taesanmoon @revelettre @s9nwoo @brachioswrld @moneygal0re @karatttttt
thank you all sm for your support on this fic <3 your reactions, feedback, and compliments have meant the world
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honeyhae-svt · 2 months ago
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🎮04 | Your Lips, My Lips, Apocalypse 🎭
Part-Time Lover | JxW - masterlist
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⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️: smut, explicit language, petty arguments, depictions of stress/anxiety related to online and work life, light suggestive jokes/humor, enemies-to-lovers dynamic, mature themes, light suggestive content, jealousy/possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, mild profanity, oblivious reader (she needs proof over everything and anything), competitive tension, angst, emotional manipulation, romantic rivalry, descriptive intimacy. proceed with caution if any of these are sensitive topics for you! angst, emotional manipulation, romantic rivalry, descriptive intimacy. reader is getting bullied by her co-workers ! smut warnings: kissing, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected sex (fictional context, not ideal IRL), rough sex (jeonghan pounding into you real hard), lots of kissing, degradation (light. reader is a slut. period.), overstimulation, desperate kisses, tension-filled build-up, power dynamics (m dom), creampie (bashful of that word), oh and lots of kissing. (i honestly dk what to even add in here - lol i added somthing unrelated to smut SORRY its already edited tho) wc: 12,180 ♪ playlist ♪ : boyfriend (ariana grande with social house), never be the same (camilla cabello), teeth (5 seconds of summer), treat you better (shawn mendes). "you aint my boyfriend, and i aint your girlfriend, but you dont want me to see nobody else"-reader "i lose my mind when it comes to you"-wonwoo "i cant have what i want but neither can you"-jeonghan
04
You woke up on a bed, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the thick curtains. The surroundings were unfamiliar yet strangely recognizable. The high-ceilinged room, the marble tiles glistening faintly in the sun, and the faint scent of expensive cologne—there was no doubt. You were in Jeonghan's penthouse.
A sharp pang of confusion hit you as you sat up, brushing the stray strands of hair from your face. How the hell did you end up here? Memories from the night before crept in slowly, like fragments of a dream you weren't sure you'd actually had.
You'd barely had a sip of alcohol. In fact, you weren't drunk at all—just exhausted. The events of the party played back in pieces: you slumped over the kitchen counter, the cool granite pressing against your cheek as the distant thrum of music vibrated through the room. You remembered Seungcheol coming over to check on you, his hand resting gently on your shoulder as he muttered something about letting you rest. The memory blurred after that.
What you did remember was Wonwoo—quiet but present, seated across the room with a Nintendo Switch in his hands. He wasn't saying much, but you could feel his gaze flicker over to you every now and then, as if silently questioning why you'd passed out in such an uncomfortable spot. A small part of you wished he'd just told you to go home, but Seungcheol had intervened before anyone could. And that was when Jeonghan stepped in.
You could imagine his smooth, persuasive voice now: "I'll take her home. She's my responsibility." It was the kind of thing he'd say to justify anything, but you doubted it was really about responsibility. He didn't even know where you lived, and yet here you were, in his space, feeling even more out of place than you had at the party.
You sighed, rubbing your temples before standing up. The soft fabric of the oversized shirt you wore—clearly not your own—brushed against your legs as you padded across the room. It was early, but you still had time to get home, clean up, and make it to work. The thought of slipping out quietly tempted you, but you hesitated. It would feel rude not to at least thank him.
Steeling yourself, you opened the door and stepped out into the expansive hallway. Every detail of the penthouse screamed Jeonghan—elegant yet understated, expensive yet effortlessly casual. You followed the faint sound of movement, eventually stopping outside a door. Knocking lightly, you heard his voice from within.
"Come in."
Pushing the door open, you stepped inside to find Jeonghan seated at his usual spot—where you often worked on his makeup during long workdays. He wasn't looking at you, his gaze fixed on his phone as he leaned back in the chair with an air of ease that irritated you more than it should have.
"Jeonghan... thanks for last night," you started, your tone stiff. "You didn't have to. You could've just taken me home."
He glanced up, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "I would have, but I don't know where you live."
Your brow furrowed at the simple reply. "You could've woken me up and asked."
"And disturb your beauty sleep? That's cruel, even for me," he replied smoothly, the teasing lilt in his voice grating on your nerves.
"Seriously," you pressed, crossing your arms over your chest, "I didn't ask for you to do any of that. But... thanks. I appreciate it."
For a moment, he didn't respond, his gaze flickering over you with an unreadable expression. Then, as if dismissing the sincerity of your words entirely, he spoke again. "What are you standing there for? Do my makeup."
Your jaw dropped slightly at the abrupt shift. "Excuse me?"
"You're here. Might as well make yourself useful." He gestured lazily toward the vanity table. "Or do you need me to remind you how to do your job?"
"I don't have my tools with me," you shot back, irritation bubbling to the surface.
Jeonghan's lips curved into a sly smile. "I have my own."
"You've been making me lug that heavy-ass kit around every day when you already had your own stuff?!" you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in frustration.
He chuckled softly, clearly amused by your reaction. "You never asked. It's not my fault you're utterly stupid."
You glared at him, muttering under your breath, "Asshole."
"Careful," he warned lightly, his eyes glinting with amusement as you approached him. "You're in my house."
Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the nearest foundation and set to work. He tilted his face up toward you, a smug expression lingering on his features as you patted the product onto his skin. You couldn't resist pressing a little harder than necessary, earning a quiet grunt of annoyance from him.
"Is this your way of taking revenge?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You wish," you muttered, focusing on blending the foundation smoothly across his skin. Despite your irritation, your fingers moved with practiced ease, the routine familiar and oddly grounding.
But as you worked, you couldn't ignore the closeness—the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from his skin. It was distracting, and you hated that it affected you at all.
He noticed, of course. He always did. "You're quiet today," he remarked, his voice softer now, almost curious. "Something on your mind?"
"Nothing," you replied quickly, avoiding his gaze. "Just tired."
"Hmm," he murmured, but his tone suggested he didn't believe you. "You should take better care of yourself. Passing out at parties isn't a good look."
"And ending up at your boss's house is?" you shot back, finally meeting his eyes.
He smiled—a slow, infuriating smile that made your stomach twist in ways you didn't want to acknowledge. "Touché."
The whole day at work dragged on like a slow, suffocating punishment. You had done absolutely nothing but sit in the studio, pretending to relax while doing the exact opposite. Jeonghan, in his infinite wisdom, had told you to "take a break" for the day. The catch? He didn't let you rest at home, where you might've actually managed to unwind. Instead, he insisted you stay here at work, throwing out some half-assed excuse about needing you nearby in case something came up.
If he really cared about your well-being, you thought bitterly, why didn't he just let you leave? Not that you were complaining—well, not out loud. But sitting back and watching models pose endlessly under bright studio lights was far from relaxing. You were bored to death, practically counting down the minutes as you perched on a spare chair in the corner of the room. Jeonghan, true to form, was nowhere to be seen—off handling something important, apparently.
It was disorienting, not being at his beck and call for once. Usually, he had you running across the city, juggling tasks that no other assistant would tolerate without raising hell. This strange lull felt wrong, as though he were deliberately giving you time to stew in your thoughts. And if Jeonghan had one talent, it was knowing exactly how to push your buttons.
Your coworkers, of course, had their own interpretations of the situation. You could feel their glances from across the studio, hear the faint whispers that stopped the moment you walked by.
"She's getting special treatment from Jeonghan, huh?" one of them muttered, not bothering to keep her voice low enough.
"Must be nice to sleep your way into perks," someone else added, followed by a chuckle that made your stomach twist.
You clenched your fists, nails biting into your palms, but you didn't say a word. Let them talk. It wasn't worth your energy to correct them. They didn't know what they were saying—didn't know the difference between what they assumed and what had actually happened.
Yes, you'd slept at Jeonghan's house. But that didn't mean what they thought it did. It wasn't like anything had happened. And as for "extra treatment"? If they thought this endless game of mental gymnastics Jeonghan put you through was some kind of reward, you'd happily trade places with them. Let them walk a mile in your shoes. Let them see how long they lasted before they begged for mercy.
Still, their words lingered, gnawing at the edges of your mind. You hated how easily they got under your skin, how much you cared about what people thought—even when you knew better. But what frustrated you even more was the fact that Jeonghan knew this would happen. He had to. And yet, here you were, sitting through this ridiculous excuse for "rest," waiting for him to pull another trick out of his sleeve.
By the time the lunch break rolled around, you were practically seething in your chair. You didn't even realize Jeonghan had walked into the studio until he was standing right in front of you, arms crossed and a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Enjoying your break?" he asked, his tone dripping with mock concern.
You glared up at him, too tired and too annoyed to play along. "If this is your idea of rest, you seriously need to reevaluate your understanding of the word."
Jeonghan chuckled, unbothered as always. "You're sitting down, aren't you? Looks like rest to me."
"Yeah, sitting down and listening to people talk shit about me. Real relaxing," you shot back, crossing your arms.
His smirk faltered for just a second, replaced by something more thoughtful. "What are they saying?"
"Nothing I haven't heard before," you muttered, looking away. "Doesn't matter."
Jeonghan crouched slightly so he was at eye level with you, his sharp gaze boring into yours. "If it doesn't matter, why do you look like you're about to rip someone's head off?"
You opened your mouth to reply, then closed it again, unsure of what to say. He always did this—pulled the words out of you before you even realized they were there.
Finally, you sighed. "Why didn't you just let me go home? I could've actually rested instead of sitting here like some kind of zoo exhibit."
Jeonghan tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "Because if you went home, you'd overthink everything until you gave yourself a headache."
You blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of his answer. "What?"
He straightened up, his usual smirk returning as if he hadn't just said something that completely threw you off balance. "You heard me. Now, come on. We're grabbing lunch."
"What?" you repeated, more sharply this time. "You're joking."
"Do I look like I'm joking?" He turned on his heel, already heading toward the door. "Hurry up. I don't have all day."
You stared after him, half tempted to stay put out of sheer spite. But then, against your better judgment, you got up and followed.
Because as much as you hated to admit it, he was right.
As you trailed behind Jeonghan, the murmurs from your co-workers grew louder, their snide remarks almost taunting.
"See? Told you she has a special something." "She's shameless. I bet she got the job because she slept her way through connections."
The venom in their voices stung, but you swallowed your anger. It wasn't worth it—not now. Jeonghan was already a few paces ahead, his long strides creating an effortless distance, his posture calm as ever. You envied how he seemed untouched by the chaos he often left in his wake.
For a moment, you hesitated. Turning around to confront them burned like an itch you couldn't quite scratch. But as your fists clenched at your sides, someone else beat you to it.
"Back to work." The sharp voice of the head photographer cut through the chatter like a whip. All eyes snapped to her. "You guys are so shameless. I bet you two have never even slept with anyone, let alone earned your positions fairly."
The room went silent, save for the muffled clicks of a nearby camera shutter. You turned your head slightly, catching the woman's commanding glare as she stood tall, exuding the kind of confidence you wished you could summon in moments like these.
You'd always known her as strict and sharp, but fair—qualities that had earned her respect among the staff. She didn't spare the offenders another glance, her focus already back on the set. Her words, though brief, felt like a lifeline, pulling you from drowning in humiliation.
Relief spread through your chest, and before you turned to follow Jeonghan, you gave her a small, grateful smile. She didn't acknowledge it, but something about the tension in her shoulders seemed to relax.
Jeonghan was already a good distance ahead, his pace unrelenting. You had to half-jog to catch up. When you finally reached him, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable.
"You look like you ran a marathon," he remarked, his tone as light as always. "Are you that desperate to keep up with me?"
You huffed, falling into step beside him. "Maybe if you walked like a normal human being, I wouldn't have to."
He smirked, a faint glimmer of amusement flickering across his face. "Or maybe I just enjoy watching you struggle."
You rolled your eyes but didn't bother replying. Somehow, bantering with him felt like the only way to ground yourself after what just happened. As you exited the studio, the cool air hit your face, and for the first time that day, you felt like you could breathe again.
"Where are we even going?" you asked, breaking the silence as Jeonghan led you toward the building's private parking area.
"You'll see," he said cryptically, his smirk widening.
As you followed Jeonghan to the parking lot, your curiosity piqued. His cryptic response only made you more suspicious. You weren't exactly in the mood for more mystery, but you couldn't deny that something about his confident demeanor made you feel oddly intrigued.
He stopped at his sleek black car, unlocking it with a quick press of a button. The engine purred to life as he slid into the driver's seat. You hesitated for a moment, but then slid into the passenger side, watching him in silence as he adjusted the mirrors and started driving.
"So," you began, breaking the quiet tension. "Where exactly are we going?"
Jeonghan shot you a quick glance, that same smug look on his face. "It's a surprise."
You sighed, sinking back into the plush seat. "You're impossible, you know that?"
"Maybe," he said, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "But you'll find out soon enough."
The drive was smooth and relatively short, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were heading somewhere neither of you had been before. The city slowly gave way to more secluded, quieter streets—definitely not a part of town you usually visited.
The car finally came to a stop in front of an upscale, modern building with glass windows reflecting the dimming sky. It had an air of exclusivity about it, something that felt... out of place.
You glanced at Jeonghan, your brow furrowing. "What is this place?"
"Trust me," he said as he turned off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. "You'll want to come inside."
The door clicked open, and Jeonghan got out without waiting for your response. You followed reluctantly, your footsteps echoing as you walked toward the entrance.
As you stepped inside, you were greeted by a warm, welcoming ambiance. It looked like a boutique hotel mixed with an art gallery—sleek furniture, artwork on the walls, and dim lights that set a mysterious yet cozy mood.
Jeonghan led you through the lobby and past a few velvet-curtained rooms. He didn't look back at you, and you followed in silence, your curiosity growing with each step.
Finally, he stopped in front of one of the rooms. The door was slightly ajar, revealing a luxurious suite, complete with a king-sized bed, a large soaking tub, and panoramic windows overlooking the city skyline.
"What is this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Your head was spinning with questions, but something told you Jeonghan wasn't here to answer them just yet.
"Like I said," he started, turning to face you with that same enigmatic smirk, "a surprise."
Your heart rate picked up as you looked around the room. The last thing you wanted was more uncertainty, more drama, but you couldn't deny the pull. Jeonghan, for all his teasing and annoying habits, had a way of making everything feel... intense. You had no idea what was coming, but that only seemed to heighten the tension.
He stepped closer to you, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him. "Are you going to ask more questions?" he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.
You hesitated, your mind racing. But with no clear way out and Jeonghan standing so close, his presence overwhelming, you took a deep breath and made your decision.
You hesitated, your mind racing. The atmosphere between the two of you had shifted, and there was no clear way out. Jeonghan stood close, his presence looming, his eyes unwavering as they searched yours for an answer. You could feel the heat radiating between you, almost like an unspoken tension that had been building up since last night.
With no way to turn back now, you took a deep breath and made your decision.
"I'll take my chances," you said, your voice soft but steady, betraying none of the nerves twisting inside you.
A slow, knowing smile spread across Jeonghan's face as he reached for your hand, fingers warm and confident against yours. Without a word, he led you further into the room, the door clicking shut behind you with a quiet finality.
The space seemed suddenly smaller, more intimate, as you felt his hand guide you toward the bed. Your heartbeat quickened, a mix of excitement and hesitation swirling in your chest. Jeonghan's eyes were fixed on you, his gaze heavy with unspoken promises.
Before you could think twice, you found yourself sitting on the bed, your hands resting on your lap. But Jeonghan didn't give you much time to process. He was already standing in front of you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body, his presence intoxicating.
Without a word, you slid your hands to his chest, pulling him toward you. His lips met yours in an instant—urgent, hungry, like something had finally snapped between the two of you. Your breath caught as you melted into the kiss, the world outside fading away until it was just the two of you.
In a blur of movement, Jeonghan's hands were on your hips, pulling you onto his lap with a smooth, practiced motion. You straddled him, the heat between you both intensifying as your bodies aligned in a way that felt both familiar and completely new.
His hands roamed over your waist, fingertips grazing the skin beneath your shirt as his lips trailed down your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You gasped softly, unable to suppress the wave of desire that rushed through you.
The kiss deepened as you instinctively ground your hips against him, the friction between you both making your pulse race even faster. Jeonghan's grip tightened on your hips, pulling you closer, his body language giving away everything he'd been holding back.
It was getting hot, the more you pulled yourself closer to him, the more it felt like he was trying to lean away like he's teasing you for some reason. Until his head hit the soft mattress under him, you were on top of him and he found it so hot.
That was the plan after all. He was making you lean closer until he lays down completely on the bed. 
Your cheeks was so red as you tongue-kissed him, eyes fluttered shut with your pretty lips soft all over his. Jeonghan's hand went to the back of your head, forcing the kiss to go deeper. 
You were wearing tight jeans at the moment that you can practically feel his cock gracing your clothed cunt. Meanwhile, Jeonghan's hands wandered under your cute blue puffed sleaves flutter top, his hands moved with precision as if he's trying to memorize your curves.
And that's when his hands found your hips, pulling you flush against his hard clothed cock. You whimpered when you felt his cock rubbing against your clit. Pulling away, you took a breath, but it wasn't long until Jeonghan's hand grabbed your chin as he sat up again, kissing you deep in the same hungry way again.
For a moment, Jeonghan pulled away, his eyes locked with yours. Your lips were swollen and he's proud to think how messed up you look right now with your cheeks red and body hot as if you have a fever or something. 
You feel so embarrassed when you find yourself soaking wet.
"Undress for me," he broke the silence, and you stared at him, cheeks heating up more if that was possible.
You were stuttering, not what knowing what to do or say—not when he's looking at you with a grin that makes him look oh-so-handsome. 
Jeonghan leaned back, hands resting on the bed watching what you would do. He wasn't doing anything at all, but why does it feel like the more he pulls away, the more you wanted to act all stupid and do as he says.
And just like that, you found yourself talking your clothes off, skin exposed right in front of him. His eyes roamed over your bare body, as if he's working on all his self control to not touch you just yet. To see how far you can get being bossed around by him.
You unclipped your bra, unbuttoned your pants and removed them all the way down. Jeonghan bit his lips, but he didn't do anything just yet. He was enjoying having you follow his order. 
He leaned in close, his lips finding your jawline down to your neck, now nipping at the sensitive flesh there, making you flinch a little. 
"A- are you giving me hickeys..?" You asked, but he didn't answer just yet. He guided your hands to the waistband of his pants, and you pulled it down, revealing Jeonghan's hard length. The bulge itself was enough to make you speechless. Doesn't matter, you were already speechless as it is.
Jeonghan unbuttoned his long-sleeved polo off, with him pulling you by the chin to look at him as he devours your lips yet again. His hands travelled back to your hips, pulling you to grind your soaked cunt to his hard cock. All you can do was moan in between kisses with him swallowing every sound coming from those pretty mouth of yours.
He tightened the grip on your hips before he pulled away for you to catch your breath. 
You were panting, your pussy burning with the aching feeling of wanting his cock deep inside you. You feel so slutty that you didn't even notice Jeonghan's hand make it's way to your inner thighs.
"You're so fucking wet. You're incredibly turned on just with a few kisses?" Jeonghan mused, looking at your glistening cunt. "I'm putting a finger in."
Jeonghan rubbed your clit, making you whimper under his touch, skin shivering as you pulled your hips against his hand. He couldn't help but smirk how worked up you were right now. He's got a lot to say, but no words came out of his mouth. He was too focused at the sight before him.
When he inserted two fingers in, it slipped inside you so easily. "What the fuck? It's like I don't need to prep you."
He continued pulling his fingers in and out of you, earning a chorus of loud moans, your head falling on his shoulders when he reached that one good spot that almost made you pass out. His thumb was running circles on your clit while his fingers worked in you like he's done it a hundred of times before. 
You were breathless, biting your lips to stop yourself from moaning his name. "J- Jeonghan...!! Fuck... S- so good." You said as you cum all over his hand, followed by a sweet squirt.
But that didn't stop Jeonghan, his fingers continued to work on you, trying to overstimulate you. And just like that, you cum again. He pulled his fingers out licking his fingers as his eyes met yours in a darkened gaze. 
Panting, your cheeks flushed, Jeonghan gripped your hips, pulling you to his cock.
He was hard you can feel his precum on the tip of his cock. You grabbed it, stroking your hand over his cock, and Jeonghan grunted, head falling back.
"You're going to be the death of me," he managed to say.
You got on the floor, kneeling in between his thighs as you opened your mouth for his cock, licking the tip with your hand stroking the rest before bobbing your head all over him. 
Jeonghan groaned, his hand grabbing your hair making you blow him deeper. "f- fuck, you're such a good fucking slut."
You whimpered, having his cock reaching your throat. He was too fucking long for your pretty mouth, you were gagging. He didn't let go until he reached his highs, cumming all over your mouth. he pulled your face away to see if you were fine, but the sight caught him off-guard.
You were panting prettily, mouth opened with his cum evident in between your lips, dripping like honey. But you didn't let it drip anywhere, you swallowed his hot load, wiping your lips. 
Fuck. And he's fucking hard again.
Jeonghan doesn't usually have a high sex drive, but now that told a whole different story. He pulled you off the floor, his fingers brushing your cheeks.
You straddled on him. He kissed your cheeks before whispering, "Safe word?"
"Fox." You replied. But before he can shift you under him, you continued—"I want to ride your cock."
Jeonghan smirked, his thumb caressing your lips. "You're full of surprises, sly fox." You were too horny to reply. Screw it, he was gorgeous, and that made you want to dominate him. "Be my guest, sweetheart."
You guided your pussy to the tip of his already pre-cum cock. But just before you prepared yourself to make him fit—thinking of how it would probably hurt a little because of how big he was, Jeonghan held your hips before slamming it down his cock, your cunt swallowing him. The stretch was real and good you almost passed out, but you gathered yourself—you can't possibly back out now that you volunteered to do all the work. You knew Jeonghan would just tease you after this.
"Shit. Pussy's fuckin' made for me," he grunted, his chest falling in and out. You grinded yourself, his hot balls making you bounce on him. 
"Such a pretty slut." He watched your body bounce, tits bouncing so prettily as your moans matched the squelch of your pussy was making.
You were bouncing on his cock fast, his cock buried deep in your pussy. It reached your g-spot and it made you stop there, pulling yourself deeper, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Jeonghan grunted, whimpering as he held your hips in place, lifting you up before slamming your cunt hard in him again, it made you moan loudly.
"I- I'm cumming, hannie!" You panted. Jeonghan felt your walls gripping his cock, he furrowed his brows before moving your hips up and down to reach his highs. And just like that, you cummed all over his cock, it didn't take him long before his hot load came. He took his cock out of you, cumming all over your stomach. 
"Fuck, you feel so good," He says, carrying you under him, locking you in between his arms. "You're so fucking pretty I want my cock inside you forever."
You were processing things blinking a few times to him before his hardened cock—was inside you again, making you breath out a moan. 
"You rode me so well." He panted out, fucking your pretty little pussy recklessly but deliberately. "But I want to fuck you mercilessly."
He slammed his cock in and out of you so hard you squirted for the second time. "A- anghh !!" You moaned, your eyes rolling. "F- fuck me hard, sir!" You moaned out.
Jeonghan was panting heavily, the sudden nickname caught him off guard. "Insatiable slut." He slammed his cock so hard you were on the verge of cumming. He continued rutting inside you, with a one hard thrust, he cummed. His hot semen coating your pretty hot walls. You cummed after.
But the man didn't stop there. He was down bad for you he didn't hold himself back. He rose your legs up, making it rest on his shoulders before entering your cunt again, balls slamming your fucked up pussy as you swallowed him well.
"Fuck.... So fucking good." He muttered, pounding on your cunt like there was no tomorrow. "S- Sir! I'm cumming!" You moaned, his hands holding your thighs down so you won't have to move much. "Cum all over my cock, sweetheart." He replied, raising one of your legs so he can get a better angle of fucking in you. 
He slammed his cock hard in you, his hips pounding in and out of you, your pussy squelches over his cock.
Jeonghan made one last thrust, putting pressure between your hips until your walls tightened. He took his cock out cumming all over your stomach as you finally cummed.
You were breathing heavily, body trembling as Jeonghan's body fall beside you.
Weren't the two of you supposed to have lunch? Then why had you ended up on a bed, bare skin against sheets, your body aching after Jeonghan had worked you to exhaustion. It wasn't just the number of rounds—although those alone had left you trembling—it was the fact that you hadn't stopped him. No, you hadn't even wanted to. But why?
Why had things spiraled this way when just yesterday, it had been Wonwoo who'd left his marks on you? And now here you were, letting Jeonghan—your boss, of all people—drag you into a mess you weren't sure you could untangle.
You sat up gingerly, the soreness of your cunt pulling at your every movement, watching as Jeonghan knelt beside the bed. He was quiet as he ran a freshly dampened towel over your thighs, his touch softer than you expected.
"You don't have to clean me up. I can do it myself," you muttered, your cheeks burning.
Jeonghan smirked, though he didn't stop wiping at your skin. "Sure you can. But I'm the one who fucked you earlier, and I'm not about to leave you like this. Especially since you'll just go back smelling like me and let those vultures at work run wild with it."
You opened your mouth to argue but paused. He was right—he was infuriatingly always right—and lately, he'd been treading carefully as though protecting you from something. But why? What was he playing at?
Chuckling lightly, you ran your fingers through his soft, slightly tousled hair. "I don't get it. In the middle of the day, you pull me into some random, bougie place I've never even heard of, and then—this? What's up, Jeonghan?"
He tilted his head thoughtfully before replying, his gaze softening for a fraction of a second. "Honestly... I don't know either."
The words hung between you as he trailed the towel along your collarbone, his movements slow and deliberate. He finally met your eyes, his breath hot against your face, and you hated how effortlessly captivating he was.
Unable to resist, you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was gentle at first, testing, but when Jeonghan didn't pull back, it deepened into something that stole your breath and left your lips swollen all over again.
When he pulled away, his voice was low, teasing. "Let's prove your co-workers just how wrong they are." He put your clothes over your body again, handing the rest of your clothes.
You blinked, his words snapping you out of the daze as you covered yourself up. "Prove them wrong? How?"
Jeonghan smirked as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "They said you slept with me to get this job. Let's show them that if we did sleep together, it's only now—and it's because I wanted to ruin you in a completely different way."
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By the time you arrived back at work, two hours had passed, and every pair of eyes in the office practically burned into you. You could hear the whispers again, loud enough that they were obviously meant for you.
"See? I told you." "She's shameless. Bet she skipped the interview process entirely and went straight to Jeonghan's bed." "I'd kill to know what tricks she used to get where she is."
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you followed Jeonghan into the building. He walked ahead of you like he always did, tall and unbothered, but you didn't miss the way his sharp gaze flicked briefly toward the gossipers. He could stop this. He probably wanted to. But you weren't going to let him. This was yours to handle.
You stopped in your tracks, giving Jeonghan's sleeve a subtle tug. He paused, glancing back at you. "I've got this," you murmured, a sly smile tugging at your lips.
Turning toward the group, you walked over with a calm, measured confidence that instantly silenced them. You raised an eyebrow, your tone dripping with mock curiosity. "Oh, please. Don't stop on my account. You were saying?"
One of the women—bold enough to meet your eyes—crossed her arms. "We were just... wondering how someone like you manages to stick around here. Must be nice to have such... connections."
You smiled sweetly, though your eyes glinted dangerously. "Connections, huh? Interesting take. But you're right—it's been an uphill battle. Not everyone can stay in the same position for years while letting the same tired poses get approved in photoshoots. What's that phrase? Oh, right—bare minimum energy."
The color drained from her face, but you didn't stop there.
"By the way," you added, your tone light but cutting, "if you have so much free time to monitor my life, maybe I should suggest Jeonghan cut your workload. He loves people who are efficient, after all."
The woman opened her mouth to retort, but you waved her off with a laugh. "Relax. I'm joking. Maybe."
Jeonghan reappeared behind you then, his voice smooth but carrying an edge. "Is there a problem here?"
You glanced over your shoulder, flashing him a knowing smile. "Not at all. Just clearing up some... misunderstandings. Right, ladies?"
The group muttered something incoherent before scrambling back to their desks.
As you turned to walk away, Jeonghan leaned close, his breath warm against your ear. "Remind me to let you handle all my PR scandals. You're ruthless."
You smirked, shooting him a playful glare. "I told you I've got this."
And just like that, you walked back to your desk, head high, leaving the entire office wondering just how they'd underestimated you for so long.
The rest of the day passed in a strange haze of triumph and simmering tension. The office was quieter now, the usual hum of whispers replaced by nervous glances and hurried footsteps whenever you walked by. You didn't need their approval—hell, you didn't even want it—but silencing the chatter, even momentarily, gave you a sense of satisfaction.
Jeonghan, of course, was Jeonghan. He had spent the remainder of the afternoon flitting between meetings and casually dropping by your workspace, leaning against your desk like he owned the entire building (which, to be fair, wasn't entirely wrong). Each time, his eyes lingered a little too long, his smirk a little too knowing.
By the time the clock struck six, you were more than ready to head home. But as you gathered your things, Jeonghan's voice cut through the silence of the nearly empty office.
"Leaving already?"
You glanced up, finding him standing in the doorway of his office, his jacket slung casually over one shoulder. He looked as put-together as ever, but there was something in his expression that gave you pause—something unreadable.
"It's late," you replied, forcing your voice to remain steady. "I figured you'd be the first to kick me out."
Jeonghan chuckled, stepping closer until he was standing just in front of your desk. He placed a hand on the surface, leaning in slightly. "And miss the chance to give you a ride home? That doesn't sound like me."
You narrowed your eyes, already sensing the trap. "I can manage, thanks."
"Don't be stubborn," he said smoothly. "You've had a long day. Consider it a peace offering for earlier."
Earlier. As if that entire thing hadn't left you questioning every decision you'd made in the past 48 hours.
Still, there was no winning against Jeonghan when he got like this, and you were too tired to argue. With a resigned sigh, you grabbed your bag and followed him to the elevator.
The ride down was silent, save for the soft hum of the elevator music. You kept your gaze fixed on the floor numbers as they ticked by, trying to ignore the way Jeonghan's presence filled the small space.
It wasn't until you were in his car, the city lights blurring past the windows, that he finally broke the silence.
"You know," he began, his tone almost conversational, "you handled those gossiping idiots pretty well today."
You glanced at him, arching an eyebrow. "Were you expecting me to cry in the bathroom instead?"
He smirked. "Not exactly. But I have to admit, watching you put them in their place was... entertaining."
"I'm glad my misery is amusing to you."
"Don't twist my words." He turned to you briefly, his expression softening. "I meant it. You were impressive. People like that—they don't deserve your energy."
For a moment, you didn't know what to say. Compliments from Jeonghan were rare, and hearing him say something so genuine left you oddly unsettled.
"Thanks," you muttered, turning to look out the window.
The car fell silent again, but this time, it wasn't uncomfortable. When he finally pulled up in front of your building, you hesitated before reaching for the door handle.
"Jeonghan," you began, glancing at him, "why... why are you doing all this?"
He tilted his head, his eyes locking with yours. "Doing what?"
"This." You gestured vaguely between the two of you. "Acting like you care. Protecting me. Dragging me into... whatever the hell this is."
For a long moment, he didn't answer. Then, with a sigh, he leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair.
"Honestly?" he said, his voice quieter now. "I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't. But here we are."
You stared at him, searching his expression for any hint of insincerity. But all you saw was exhaustion, vulnerability, and something else you couldn't quite name.
"Goodnight, Jeonghan," you said softly, opening the door.
"Night," he replied, watching as you stepped out of the car and disappeared into the building.
Entering your apartment, you lazily set your bag down the table before falling onto your bed. Your body was aching from earlier—no, probably not just from how Jeonghan fucked you bad, but Wonwoo too, last night. You had sex in two nights streak, of course your body would ache. 
You opened your phone—though you wanted to sleep already, you still had to check on your schedule for streams tomorrow since it was sunday, you had really nothing much to do. Then you received a discord notification popped up. It was Hoshi spamming your username on one of the servers. You didn't want to open the app, you were too exhausted to even deal with Hoshi's godforsaken childishness, but you opened it anyways. 
#general ho5hi_kwon: @/kitsunya  ho5hi_kwon: Are you free tomorrow? We're gonna watch a LOL competition, Wonwoo, Jun, Minghao, and Vernon's playing. dk_is_dokyeom: Dude stop forcing her to come all the time dk_is_dokyeom: Do you like her or something 😏 ho5hi_kwon: NAH. YOU LIKED HER.  pledis_boos: We all know, Seokmin. We all know
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. These idiots. Whenever the three were in the same room, it'd always end up being chaotic.
Then there was that. Your thoughts wandered back to those days—Seokmin's shy smile when he confessed under the cherry blossom trees, his constant efforts to make you laugh, his warm hugs when you were at your lowest. You'd loved him, in your own way, but breaking up had been your only option. Your life had been a mess back then, and dragging him down with you was something you refused to do.
You shook the memories away and glanced back at the chat. Seokmin was probably sulking already. He always did when the teasing went too far, you couldn't bear to see your high school sweetheart get involved in your mess. 
But now, he isn't the type to be teased like this. You knew he'd sulk real hard and maybe not even talk to Hoshi or Seungkwan for a couple of days.
You chatted on the server once their fighting has cooled down.
#general kitsunya: yea, sure, ill go kitsunya: send me the details ho5hi_kwon: I already sent the link. Don't dare be late.
You locked your phone and let it drop onto your bed. Why had you agreed to go? You didn't even know. Maybe it was exhaustion clouding your judgment. Maybe you just didn't want to be alone with your thoughts of Jeonghan or Wonwoo.
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The next morning, your alarm kept ringing. God knows how many times you already pressed the infamous snooze button. But then you remembered, The LoL competition was starting 12 pm. You checked the time on your phone—10:57 am. You groaned before dragging yourself from the comfort of your bed. 
You took your sweet time in the shower, glancing at the clock it was 11:32 already. Who cares if you were late. It's not like anyone would care. 
You took your time drying your hair and picking out your outfit—a simple gray cardigan layered over a black tank top, paired with baggy black cargo pants and sleek white Converse. To top it off, you slung pastel red headphones around your neck, adding a subtle pop of color. Afterward, you finished with your usual makeup routine, keeping it effortless yet polished.
One last check in front of the mirror, you grabbed your shoulder bag and your phone before Dm-ing Hoshi.
[DM] - hamster freak You: im going to be a little late  Hoshi: Thanks for the information. You're already 37 minutes late by the way, did you forget to set an alarm or something? Hoshi: Youre mean. You: dw baby, miss me already? Hoshi: ... You know what, you don't need to come after all. Hoshi: I don't want to see you You: aw stop ure making me want to go  You: ill be there to haunt you <3
You took out a small chuckle before you walked your way to the parking lot to enter your car. 
You arrived at the venue. And guess who's waiting for you outside the place? Hoshi.
"The hell? How long have you been waiting here?" You asked as you approached him.
He shrugged. "I thought you'd arrive 5 minutes ago, and I was with Jihoon, he went to grab us a few snacks."
"Wow, Woozi would really do something for you?" 
"No, he lost a game." He grinned. And you chuckled lightly.
As Woozi gets back, holding a bag of snacks with him, a frown on his face, Hoshi grabbed lollipops, handing one over to you. 
You grabbed the lollipop, popping it into your mouth. "Hey Mr. tofu," you greeted with a smile.
"Please don't call me that ever again," Woozi replied with a sigh. Your grin widened. Teasing him always seemed to be your favorite thing to do. You remember teasing him so hard on a stream once that he left the voice chat.
"It suits you," Hoshi chimed in biting on the candies. 
You offered to carry some of the bag, but Woozi didn't let you. He can't have a girl help him.
The three of you entered the venue and it didn't take long when you finally met up with the rest of the group. Jun and Minghao were so focused on their computers, playing an LoL 1v1 before the competition started. Vernon was sitting on one of the couches, talking to his girlfriend. And Wonwoo? He was nowhere to be found. Why were you even looking for him in the first place?
"If it isn't for Ms. Fox." You turned to see Seungkwan. A unamused smile crept through your lips. "Oh, it's just you." You replied, earning a chuckle from Hoshi.
"At least I'm not out looking for Wonwoo," Seungkwan replied. You scoffed—hell if that's even true (it is).
You rolled your eyes at Seungkwan's comment but didn't dignify it with a response. Instead, you plopped onto the nearest chair, leaning back as you popped the lollipop back into your mouth.
"You know," Seungkwan continued, sitting on the armrest beside you, "for someone who's 'not looking for Wonwoo,' you sure keep glancing around a lot."
"Get a hobby, Boo," you shot back, smirking at the way his face fell into mock offense.
Jun and Minghao, oblivious to the banter, were still locked in their intense 1v1, their focus unwavering. Hoshi, now sitting cross-legged on the floor, had already started opening a second lollipop, while Woozi muttered something under his breath about "children" as he sat beside him. Vernon, still on the couch, gave you a small wave before turning back to talk to his girlfriend.
You stayed there for a while, trying to relax, but the energy in the room was buzzing—both from the impending competition and your own thoughts. Wonwoo was still nowhere to be seen, and despite your best efforts to ignore it, you couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to find him.
"Be right back," you said, standing up and stretching.
"Where are you going?" Seungkwan called after you.
"To mind my business. You should try it," you quipped, earning a chorus of laughter from the others.
You wandered out of the room, letting the chatter and laughter fade behind you as you strolled through the venue. The place was massive—crowds of gamers and fans gathered around booths and screens, the excitement almost infectious. But you weren't here to browse or soak in the energy. Your feet seemed to move on their own, taking you toward a quieter hallway at the back of the venue.
That's when you saw him.
Wonwoo was leaning against a wall near an emergency exit, his face illuminated by the faint glow of his phone. He looked relaxed, but there was a tension in his posture that only you, someone who knew him well enough, could notice.
You hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. He didn't look up, but his voice reached you before you could say anything.
"Looking for me?" he asked, his tone calm but carrying that hint of amusement that always managed to throw you off.
You stopped in your tracks, crossing your arms as you leaned casually against the opposite wall. "And what if I was?" you replied, your voice dripping with nonchalance.
Wonwoo finally looked up, his gaze meeting yours. There was something unreadable in his eyes, a mix of curiosity and something deeper you couldn't quite place. "Then I'd say you've found me," he said, slipping his phone into his pocket.
Silence stretched between you, not awkward but heavy enough to make your chest feel tight. You couldn't help but let your eyes roam over him—the way his black hoodie hung loosely on his frame, the faint scruff on his jaw that somehow made him look even more attractive. Damn him.
"You disappeared," you said finally, breaking the silence.
"Needed some air," he replied, his voice low. "Didn't think anyone would come looking."
"Well," you started, pushing off the wall and stepping closer, "I wasn't exactly looking for you. Just needed a break from Seungkwan's mouth."
Wonwoo smirked, the corner of his lips curling in that infuriatingly subtle way of his. "Sure," he said, his tone laced with doubt.
You rolled your eyes, stepping past him toward the door. "Don't flatter yourself, Jeon," you tossed over your shoulder, reaching for the door handle.
But before you could pull it open, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist gently but firmly. The contact sent a jolt through you, and you froze, turning to look at him.
"Stay," he said softly, his eyes searching yours.
You hesitated, the weight of his gaze pinning you in place. His hand was warm against your wrist, and for a moment, the world outside the room ceased to exist. It was just you and him, caught in a moment that felt far too intimate for two people who supposedly had nothing unresolved between them. Supposedly.
"Why?" you asked, your voice softer than you intended, almost a whisper.
Wonwoo's thumb brushed against your skin absentmindedly, and he looked away for a second, as if gathering his thoughts. "Because I don't want to be alone right now," he admitted, the honesty in his tone catching you off guard.
Your heart clenched, and for reasons you couldn't explain, you stayed. You let the door close and leaned back against it, crossing your arms as you tried to regain some semblance of control over the situation. "Fine," you said casually, though your pulse betrayed you by racing like you'd just run a marathon. "But you're buying me dinner after this."
He huffed out a quiet laugh, his usual stoicism cracking just a little. "Deal."
The two of you stood there for a while, the silence settling again but this time less suffocating, more like a fragile truce. Wonwoo leaned back against the wall, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, and you couldn't help but notice how the dim light softened his features, making him look almost vulnerable.
"You know," you said finally, breaking the quiet, "you're not exactly the easiest person to read."
"Good," he replied without missing a beat. "Keeps things interesting."
You let out a dry laugh. "For who? You? Because everyone else just ends up confused."
Wonwoo's lips twitched into another smirk, but his eyes stayed serious as they locked onto yours. "Not everyone. You're not as confused as you think."
Your breath hitched, and you hated how easily he got under your skin, how he always seemed to know just the right thing to say to leave you teetering on the edge of something you weren't ready to name.
"Maybe I'm just good at pretending," you shot back, narrowing your eyes slightly.
He pushed off the wall and took a step closer, closing the already small space between you. You had nowhere to go, your back pressed against the door, and the air felt heavier with each passing second. His presence was overwhelming, but you refused to back down.
"Maybe," he said quietly, his face just inches from yours now. "But I don't think you're pretending right now."
Before you could respond, his hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face, the gesture so unexpected and gentle it made your chest tighten all over again. His fingers lingered for a moment, grazing your cheek, and you hated the way your body reacted to his touch, how your resolve seemed to melt under his intense gaze.
"Wonwoo," you began, your voice wavering.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured, his voice so low it sent shivers down your spine.
You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but no words came. Instead, you found yourself leaning into him, the tension snapping as his lips captured yours in a kiss that was equal parts soft and demanding.
It was nothing like the heated night you two shared before. There was no hurried desperation, no reckless abandon. This was slower, deeper, as if he was trying to say all the things he couldn't put into words. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and you didn't resist. Couldn't resist.
When you finally pulled back, breathless and slightly dazed, he rested his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you in place.
"Still pretending?" he asked, his voice tinged with a rare vulnerability.
You didn't answer. Instead, you closed the gap between you again, kissing him like you were trying to drown out all the questions swirling in your mind. For now, answers could wait.
The kiss deepened, your arms wrapped around his neck, his hand gripping your waist while the other cradled the back of your head, pulling you closer as his tongue teased yours.
It was just yesterday when Jeonghan had you shivering under him. And now here you were, entangled with Wonwoo, kissing him like nothing had happened with Jeonghan. It felt wrong. But then again... was there anything to feel wrong about? Did you and Jeonghan even have a thing? Did this—whatever this was—mean anything? 
Two men? Really? Neither of them knows you've been fucking with them alternatively like they're just some kind of toy for you. You didn't want that at all.
YYou pulled away, your breath hitching as your cheeks flushed hot. Wonwoo's dark gaze lingered on you, searching your face as though he could see the questions swirling in your mind.
 "What exactly is this..?" you asked, your voice a little more unsteady than you'd hoped.
Wonwoo hesitated, leaning back slightly. His arms caged you against the door, the space between you just wide enough for the tension to thrum. "What do you want it to be?" 
He didn't answer at all, it only made you even more confused. "I asked first." 
"Then I won't answer. So tell me," he said, his voice steady but edged with something you couldn't quite place. "What exactly do you want this to be?"
The question made your breath catch. It was as though he already knew the answer but wanted you to say it first. "I wouldn't have asked if I knew," you murmured, more to yourself than him.
Wonwoo exhaled sharply through his nose, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "Then figure it out." He stepped back slightly, his posture relaxing as he leaned against the wall, pulling his phone from his pocket. "You're lying again." He added before turning away completely.
It felt like a dismissal, one that stung more than it should have.
"I'm leaving," you said, your tone sharper than intended as you moved toward the door.
But his voice stopped you in your tracks.
"You're not even gonna wish me good luck?" he called out, his tone light, teasing, almost mockingly casual.
You glanced back at him, narrowing your eyes. "I came to see you lose," you shot back, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "And for the record, I'm not your girlfriend."
You stuck your tongue out for good measure before turning on your heel and walking away quickly, leaving no room for him to reply.
Wonwoo watched you disappear, his expression unreadable. But as the door clicked shut behind you, he let out a low chuckle.
"... Yet," he murmured under his breath, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. You said what you said, and you knew it would trigger him to admitting first.
By the time you made it back to the group, Seungkwan was mid-rant, Hoshi laughing so hard he nearly dropped his soda. Jun and Minghao had moved on from their 1v1 and were watching the pre-match highlights on the screen. Vernon was still on the couch, this time half-listening to Seungkwan while scrolling on his phone.
"Oh, look who finally decided to show up," Seungkwan said the moment he spotted you, his voice dripping with mock sarcasm. "Where've you been, Ms. Fox? Lurking in the shadows, plotting our downfall?"
You rolled your eyes, plopping down onto the chair next to Hoshi. "I don't need to lurk in shadows to take you down, Seungkwan. Your mouth does that for me."
The group burst into laughter, Hoshi nearly choking on his drink. "She's got a point," Minghao quipped, smirking.
"Wow, so much for team spirit," Seungkwan shot back, clutching his chest dramatically. "What did I ever do to deserve such cruelty?"
"You existed," you replied with a smirk, earning a high-five from Hoshi.
The banter continued for a while, light and easy, until the sound of a door clicking open made everyone pause.
Wonwoo walked in.
He moved with his usual calm, unbothered demeanor, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. His gaze swept across the room, landing on you for just a moment longer than necessary.
"Ah, here he is, the man of the hour!" Hoshi cheered, throwing a potato chip in Wonwoo's direction. "Ready to crush some noobs?"
Wonwoo ignored him, his lips twitching in a small smile as he walked over to where you sat. Leaning down slightly, he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, "Miss me already?"
Your breath hitched, but you quickly masked it with a scoff. "You wish."
His smirk deepened, and before you could say anything else, he pulled up a chair beside you, his knee brushing yours under the table.
The others, oblivious to the tension, resumed their chatter, but you couldn't shake the way his proximity sent your nerves into overdrive.
"You good?" Hoshi asked, tilting his head at you.
"Perfect," you said, forcing a smile.
But then Wonwoo spoke again, this time louder. "You know," he began, his tone casual but his eyes locked on yours, "she was pretty sweet earlier. Didn't think she'd have it in her."
The room went quiet, all eyes snapping to you.
"Sweet?" Seungkwan repeated, narrowing his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"
You glared at Wonwoo, your face heating up. "He's delusional. Ignore him."
"Am I?" Wonwoo teased, leaning back in his chair with a smug expression.
Before you could retort, Hoshi interjected. "Hold on. Are we missing something here? Why does it feel like there's... something going on?"
"There's nothing going on," you said quickly, shooting a warning glare at Wonwoo.
Wonwoo raised his hands in mock surrender, but the glint in his eyes told you he wasn't done. For the rest of the conversation, he kept it subtle—fleeting glances, the occasional brush of his hand against yours, a smirk every time your eyes met. It was enough to drive you insane.
The others weren't blind. Seungkwan, especially, was watching the two of you like a hawk. "Something's definitely up," he muttered to Vernon, who just nodded, looking mildly amused.
And then the door opened again.
Jeonghan strolled in, effortlessly commanding the room as always. He greeted everyone with his usual charm, but when his eyes landed on you, something flickered in his expression.
"Ah, there's my favorite," Jeonghan said smoothly, his voice laced with a warmth that felt far too intimate for comfort.
You stiffened, your eyes darting to Wonwoo, whose jaw tightened ever so slightly.
"Late as usual," Jeonghan added, walking over and placing a hand on the back of your chair. His fingers brushed lightly against your shoulder, and you could feel the weight of his gaze.
"Traffic," you replied, your voice steady despite the way your heart was racing.
"Mm," Jeonghan hummed, his eyes lingering on you before shifting to Wonwoo. "Good luck today, Wonwoo. I'm sure she'll be cheering for you."
The tension was palpable. Wonwoo's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't rise to the bait.
"Of course," Wonwoo said, his voice calm but edged with something sharper. "She's already wished me luck in her own... special way."
Jeonghan's smile didn't falter, but his gaze grew sharper as it flicked back to you. "Is that so?"
You wanted to crawl under the table.
"Alright, that's enough," you said, standing abruptly. "I'm going to grab some air before this testosterone overload suffocates me."
You left the room quickly, feeling both men's eyes on you as you went. 
The cold air outside the venue did little to clear your spinning thoughts. Leaning against the wall, you tilted your head back and took a deep breath. What the hell is wrong with me? First Wonwoo, now Jeonghan. The back-and-forth between them felt like a game you couldn't keep up with, and it was messing with your head.
Your moment of peace didn't last long. The sound of a door swinging open made you flinch. You didn't even need to look to know who it was.
"Running away again?" Jeonghan's smooth voice cut through the silence.
You sighed, keeping your gaze fixed on the sky. "Didn't know I had to explain my every move to you."
He chuckled, stepping closer until he was leaning against the wall beside you. "You don't. But it's fun watching you squirm."
You turned to glare at him, but the amusement in his eyes made it impossible to stay mad. He had that effect on people—disarming them with a single glance, making them forget why they were upset in the first place.
"Seriously, what do you want, Jeonghan?" you asked, crossing your arms.
"Just checking on you," he said, his tone casual but his eyes searching yours. "You seemed... tense back there."
"I'm fine."
"Are you?" He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. "Because from where I was standing, it looked like a certain someone was getting under your skin."
Your cheeks heated, and you immediately looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Jeonghan hummed thoughtfully, straightening up. "If you say so. Just remember..." He hesitated, a rare moment of seriousness flashing across his face. "Not everyone plays fair."
Before you could ask what he meant, the door opened again, and this time, it was Wonwoo.
His gaze flicked between the two of you, his expression unreadable. "We're starting soon," he said, his voice steady but his eyes locked on Jeonghan's hand resting casually on the wall near your shoulder.
Jeonghan smiled, stepping back with an exaggerated stretch. "Guess I'll see you both inside, then."
He walked off, leaving you alone with Wonwoo. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.
"You good?" Wonwoo asked after a beat.
"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" you muttered, brushing past him to head back inside.
The room was buzzing with excitement as the matches began. You found a seat near the back with Hoshi and Seungkwan, who were both yelling their predictions over each other.
"10,000 won (seven bucks in USD) says Minghao takes the win," Seungkwan declared, stuffing popcorn into his mouth.
"Please, it's going to be Wonwoo," Hoshi shot back.
"Don't bet your snacks. You'll lose," you said dryly, earning a laugh from Hoshi.
The first round was a chaotic storm of champions clashing across the map. Jun, known for his unconventional picks, played an unexpectedly aggressive strategy, diving into enemy territory with bold moves that had the crowd roaring in surprise. Despite his daring plays, his occasional overextensions cost him valuable objectives.
Vernon, on the other hand, played a game of precision. He focused on controlling vision and sneaking objectives, his calculated decisions earning him steady ground. Every play felt like a chess move, deliberate and cerebral.
But it was Minghao who stole the spotlight early on. His champion of choice, a mechanically complex assassin, zipped across the map with unnerving efficiency. His precision in landing skills and uncanny sense of timing had even the commentators struggling to keep up.
"Unreal!" one of them exclaimed as Minghao pulled off a near-impossible triple kill under turret. "Minghao is playing like a pro today. That's a highlight reel moment right there!"
Then there was Wonwoo. His gameplay was as smooth and methodical as ever, every move calculated to perfection. His champion, a versatile mage, danced on the edge of danger, dishing out massive damage while dodging death by a hair's breadth. The way he controlled team fights, predicting his opponents' moves, was mesmerizing.
Yet, from your spot in the audience, something felt... off.
The tournament narrowed to the final rounds, the competition growing fiercer with each game. Minghao, Wonwoo, and Hyeina (Vernon's girlfriend), the other contestant dominated her brackets, while Jun and Vernon made valiant efforts but fell behind.
In the semifinals, Minghao and Wonwoo clashed head-on. Every moment was charged, the room so quiet during team fights that you could hear the players' keyboards clicking like gunfire.
Minghao's assassin darted through the shadows, targeting Wonwoo's backline with surgical precision. But Wonwoo's mage held its ground, zoning Minghao out with well-placed spells. The two traded kills and counterplays, the audience bouncing between gasps and cheers as the scoreboard evened out.
At one point, Minghao narrowly escaped a death trap Wonwoo had meticulously set, slipping away with a sliver of health. The crowd erupted in disbelief, and even Minghao, usually composed, let a small grin slip as he glanced across the row of PCs toward Wonwoo.
"Nice try," Minghao teased, loud enough for Wonwoo to hear but quiet enough not to catch the commentators' attention.
Wonwoo didn't respond, his jaw clenched and eyes fixed on the screen.
The Final Match
The finals arrived. The match pitted Minghao, Wonwoo, and Hyeina against one another in a free-for-all deathmatch—a battle royale to crown the victor.
The atmosphere was electric. Spectators leaned forward in their seats, their excitement palpable.
As the game unfolded, it became clear this wasn't just about skill. It was about mental fortitude. Minghao's assassin thrived in the chaos, darting in and out of fights with deadly precision. The pro player focused on controlling the map, securing key objectives to maintain his lead.
Wonwoo, however, was visibly different. While his plays were sharp, there was a hesitation in his movements. It was subtle, but you noticed it.
And then it happened.
In the middle of a crucial team fight near Baron, Wonwoo's mage was in the perfect position to deal a devastating combo. His team was counting on him. The enemy champions grouped together, a rare opening for a game-changing attack.
But his eyes flickered—just for a second—to the audience. To you.
More specifically, to Jeonghan.
You hadn't noticed until now, but Jeonghan's arm rested casually on the back of your chair, his body angled just slightly toward yours. It wasn't overtly intimate, but it was enough to draw Wonwoo's attention.
His hand hesitated on the keyboard. That split-second pause was all it took.
Minghao, ever opportunistic, dove into the fight with precision. His assassin eliminated Wonwoo's mage in seconds, turning what could've been Wonwoo's moment of glory into a crushing defeat.
"Unbelievable! Minghao secures the ace!" the commentator shouted, the audience exploding into cheers.
As the game ended, the results flashed on the screen:
1st Place: Minghao
2nd Place: Wonwoo
3rd Place: Hyeina
4th Place: Vernon
5th Place: Jun
Minghao leaned back in his chair, arms raised in triumph as the crowd cheered his name. Jun clapped enthusiastically, shouting something about how "he taught Minghao everything he knows."
Wonwoo, meanwhile, sat frozen at his station, his fingers still hovering over the keys. His jaw tightened as he stared at the screen, the weight of his loss sinking in.
After the tournament, the group gathered near the exit, congratulating Minghao on his win.
"You were insane out there!" Hoshi exclaimed, clapping Minghao on the back.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Seungkwan said, waving him off. "The real story here is what happened to Wonwoo? You totally choked in that last fight."
"I didn't choke," Wonwoo said, his tone sharper than usual.
"Sure," Seungkwan teased. "It's not like you were distracted or anything." His eyes darted to you, a sly grin spreading across his face.
You glared at him. "Don't start."
"Don't start what? I didn't say anything!"
Wonwoo, who had been silent, finally spoke up. "Let it go, Seungkwan." His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that made everyone shut up.
The awkward silence that followed was broken by Jeonghan's arrival. He walked in with his usual confidence, his eyes briefly meeting Wonwoo's before landing on you.
"Ready to head out?" Jeonghan asked, his tone light but pointed.
You hesitated, glancing at Wonwoo, whose expression was unreadable.
"Yeah," you said finally, grabbing your bag. "Let's go."
As you walked out with Jeonghan, you couldn't shake the feeling of Wonwoo's eyes on your back.
The walk back with Jeonghan is heavier than you anticipated. He doesn't outright tease you like he usually does—instead, his tone shifts to something uncharacteristically serious as he brings up Wonwoo's reaction during the match.
"You know," Jeonghan starts, his hands stuffed casually into his pockets, "he's never been that distracted before. I almost feel bad for him."
"Feel bad?" you scoff, trying to ignore the pang of guilt his words stir in you.
Jeonghan stops walking, turning to face you. "I get it, though. You're... hard to ignore." His gaze softens, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe.
"Jeonghan..."
He steps closer, closing the space between you. His voice lowers, intimate, almost a whisper. "I'm not like him. I don't get distracted. When I want something, I take it."
Before you can process his words, his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen and smirks. "Saved by the bell. Let's get back to the others before they start a search party."
The moment passes, leaving you reeling as you follow him back inside.
The group gathered after the tournament, energy high from the event. Seungkwan and Hoshi were relentless, teasing Wonwoo about his second-place finish.
"Come on, man," Seungkwan said, grinning. "Second place isn't that bad. It's just, you know... not first."
Hoshi chimed in, "And hey, at least you didn't lose to Vernon's girlfriend! Minghao's cool with it too. That's gotta count for something."
Wonwoo forced a smile, but his usual sharp comebacks were absent. His eyes flickered to you once, twice, before he finally stood and excused himself.
Minghao, ever observant, leaned toward you. "You okay?"
You nodded quickly, brushing it off. But as your gaze followed Wonwoo's retreating figure, you couldn't shake the sinking feeling in your chest.
"Minghao, the champion," Vernon announced dramatically, using his phone to film the moment. "First place for only the second-best LoL player in the room!"
Minghao rolled his eyes, pushing Vernon off. "Shut up, Vernon. You're just mad because you got fourth."
"Hey, fourth is still a medal," Vernon protested, holding up an imaginary gold medal and waving it in Minghao's face. "You know what they say, bronze is for champions too!"
"Fifth, Vernon. Fifth." Jun deadpanned, smacking Vernon on the back of the head. "Don't act like you didn't lose to your girlfriend."
"Not the point, Jun." Vernon sighed dramatically, turning to Woozi for backup, but Woozi, who'd been too busy sinking into his chair post-tournament, just shrugged. "Maybe next time, Vernon."
Meanwhile, Wonwoo, still nursing his second-place loss, had moved to the back of the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His eyes flickered from his phone to you and back again, each glance slightly more pained than the last.
Seungkwan, sensing the tension, tried to lighten the mood. "Hey, Wonwoo! Don't be too upset about second place. At least you didn't lose to a noob."
"I didn't lose to a noob," Wonwoo muttered, glancing up at Seungkwan. "Minghao's practically a legend in his own right. It's just..."
"Just what?" Seungkwan grinned mischievously, nudging him. "You distracted by someone else on the sidelines?"
Wonwoo froze, his eyes widening for a split second before he forced a grin. "What are you talking about?" he said, pushing away from the wall to join the others, a little too quickly. "I'm fine."
"You're not fooling anyone," Seungkwan shot back, arching an eyebrow. "I saw you practically zoned out when you were supposed to be taking down Minghao's assassin and then you just stared at someone—someone who happens to be sitting next to Jeonghan."
Cue the awkward silence that followed. Everyone immediately turned to look at you, then back at Wonwoo.
The heat rising to Wonwoo's cheeks was almost too funny, and you couldn't help but smirk. "I wasn't staring at anyone," he muttered, though it was obvious to everyone that he'd been thinking about something—or someone—during that match.
"Oh, please," Hoshi cut in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's like watching a badly scripted K-drama. Wonwoo, bro, I think you might have feelings for our girl here." He wagged his eyebrows dramatically.
"Shut up, Hoshi," Wonwoo growled.
"Wow, are we really doing this now?" Minghao jumped in with an exaggerated gasp, clutching his chest. "The Love Triangle Drama: Episode 1. First place and already the star of the show!" He gave an exaggerated bow, clearly enjoying the chaos.
"You know, this tournament could've been more fun if someone didn't get all distracted by their feelings," Jun said with a wink, completely ignoring the fact that he was also in the bottom half of the rankings.
"Yeah, at least you could have gotten first if you weren't so distracted!" Vernon added helpfully. "Who needs to focus when you've got heart-eyes, right, Wonwoo?"
The entire room burst into laughter. Even Woozi, who had been trying to stay out of the conversation, snorted into his drink, making everyone laugh even harder.
Wonwoo's face turned a shade of crimson, but he could do nothing but grin sheepishly. "Okay, okay, enough. You guys are insufferable."
Just when the teasing reached its peak, the door to the room opened, and Jeonghan casually strolled in, a smug smile plastered on his face.
“Well, well, well,” he said in a voice laced with mischief, taking in the scene with a knowing look. “What have we here? A bunch of losers and an overly distracted second-place finisher?”
Wonwoo stiffened at the sound of Jeonghan’s voice, and you, suddenly aware of the charged atmosphere between the three of you, quickly stood up, trying to play it cool.
“I’m not distracted,” Wonwoo muttered under his breath, but Jeonghan was already looking at you with a knowing glint in his eye.
“Oh? You sure about that?” Jeonghan teased, eyes flicking between you and Wonwoo. “I mean, I was just sitting next to her, and someone over there couldn’t even finish a team fight without—” Jeonghan paused, throwing a glance at Wonwoo’s flushed face. “...well, we all saw it.”
Wonwoo’s face fell, the teasing from his friends now blending with the tension in the room. But before anyone could comment further, Jeonghan stepped toward you, wrapping a lazy arm around your shoulders in a move that was way too casual for the situation.
“I don’t know what all this fuss is about,” Jeonghan said, his voice smooth, his smirk never leaving his lips. “But if anyone should be distracted, it’s because I’m here now.”
Wonwoo’s gaze darkened, and you could feel the heat building in the air. The laughter from the others died down as everyone realized the shift in the mood.
“You’re really doing this, Jeonghan?” Wonwoo muttered, not bothering to mask the irritation in his tone.
Jeonghan just laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “What? Am I not allowed to stand next to my favorite teammate?”
The teasing in the room became suffocating, but the mix of humor and tension was what made it unbearable. Everyone knew what was happening. It was clear, and no one was pretending anymore.
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a/n: i have nothing to say but to thank you to everyone who kept me going. want to be added to the permanent series (part-time lover) taglist? reblog or comment on the post and you'll be added to every next update of a chapter :]
(p.s. idk maybe i shouldnt have added too much angst? BTW POSTING A POLL (or shouldnt? doesnt matter)—majority wins. Jeonghan or Wonwoo? who do you much prefer to be the end game? lmk !)
taglist: @asyre @choppedballoondetective @kpoppiesofinternet @syluslittlecrow @minhui896
@october-saturn @kpop-will-kill-me @elegantdevill1 @shidily @angel-ishere
@lovrchl @codeinebelle @httpnamu-u @httpnamjoonie94 @6nadia9
@jjonghaniee @ateez-atiny380 @squishysquishjimin @jeonghaniya @thelost-soul
@foulcolorclodoaf-blog @133456789000000000000
(tysm for reblogging :3)
169 notes · View notes
starkwlkr · 2 years ago
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Heyy I love your workk!! can u do a lando x reader where they are streaming with max and he just teases lando for being a simp and its just really fluffy🫶🏼🫶🏼
crafting table | lando norris
request #2: Hi, could you please write a lando Norris x Fewtrell!reader thank you. I love your writing 💕
what if we kissed by the crafting table?👉🏼👈🏼 short fic but it’s still fluff <3
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If you asked Max life was now that his best friend and his sister were dating, he would scream into a pillow. Well, that’s a bit dramatic, but who cares? They were being too in love in front of him and he felt like he was always third wheeling.
Today wasn’t any different. He was streaming with Lando and Y/n in his room and so far, the couple were busy fighting with pillows in the background while Max talked to his chat.
“Stop, i literally just asked you what you wanted to make our son!” Y/n hit Lando with her pillow.
“And I said his name doesn’t matter! You can name him sock and I wouldn’t care.” Lando tried to take away her pillow, but she kept fighting back.
“The chat is witnessing a live divorce.” Max turned his chair and faced the couple.
“Sock? That’s the best you can come up with?” Y/n dropped her pillow and went back to Max’s bed to continue building her minecraft house on her Nintendo Switch.
“It’s a minecraft dog!”
“Don’t know if I should record and let them kill each other or intervene,” Max told his chat. “I’ll give it a few minutes actually. If anything happens, you are all witnesses.”
Lando laid next to his girlfriend and watched as she built her house. He would occasionally place a kiss on her cheek and give his opinion on stuff like what kind of block would be great to make a house or how much he loved their virtual dog he had named sock.
“Someone just asked if Y/n were to break up with Lando, would I still talk to him?” Max faced the couple.
“They’re crazy if they think she’s going to get rid of me. I’m staying. She’s going to have to put a restraining order on me, but please don’t I very much enjoy your company.” Lando spoke to his girlfriend, who was still too busy building her house.
“Romance is not dead, ladies and gentlemen. You two are gross.” Max went back to face his computer.
“What if we kissed by the crafting table?” Max heard Y/n whisper to Lando.
“What the fuck?”
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sturniolodreamz · 1 year ago
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video games - chris sturniolo
based on this request: Pls pls PLS do one where the reader is Chris’s girlfriend and their just hanging out in the living room home alone while Chris is okay Mario kart and Chris says “ma come sit on my lap and cockwarm me while I play Mario cart” and that quickly turns when he keeps moving when playing (Chris being dom pls)
summary - chris gets a little carried away while reader cockwarms him
warnings - smut (obv), light choking, cockwarming
a/n - sorry this took so long, but here is the highly anticipated fic! I had a couple other things i wanted to get done first. hopefully you like it!
tags - @sturniol0z @ethereal-lovers @its-jennarose @angelic-sturniolos111 (lmk to be added)
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Nick and Matt had left earlier in the day to go hang out with friends, but Chris decided he wasn't feeling it. So that left my boyfriend and I home alone for the rest of the day. We were just chilling, watching shows and cuddling. I noticed that Chris was more clingy than he normally is, but I didn't think much of it. Eventually we decided to play mario kart together on the nintendo switch. We played a few rounds, with Chris growing increasingly restless. Finally he spoke up, calling me over.
"Ma, come cockwarm me while we play?" He said, half asking and half telling me.
My cheeks went red. "Uhm, Chris, I don't know..." I said, unsure of it. We had never done that before, so I wasn't sure where this was coming from.
"Please babe? I just wanna be close to you." He pleaded.
I thought for a moment before giving in.
"Fine, but nothing crazy, okay?"
He nodded, patting his lap for me to come over. When I reached him, I could already see the bulge in his pants.
"Chris, you're already hard?" I laughed.
"C'mon, it's hard not to be around you."
"Shut up!" I said, playfully hitting him.
My hands found their way to his waistband, gently pulling down his sweats and boxers just enough for his cock to spring out. He let out a soft groan as the tension from his pants were released. I could see how red his tip was, already leaking precum. Not wanting to get too carried away, I turn around and position him at my entrance.
"Ready?" I ask him.
"Please."
I lower myself onto him, sighing at the feeling of him stretching me out, a feeling that I still haven't gotten used to. My back was now against his chest as I relaxed, and he wrapped his arms around me loosely as we started another round.
"Fuck, I love you so much y/n." He says, leaving a kiss on my neck.
"I love you too, Chris."
The round started, with Chris's chin resting on my shoulder as we played. We played mostly in silence, with Chris yelling out every once in a while if he got hit by a shell or fell behind. Chris ever so slightly moved his hips, causing his dick to twitch inside me. He gave me a genuine apologetic look.
"Shit, sorry y/n."
It wasn't long before he began slightly bucking up. I knew him well enough to understand what he was doing. As much as I tried to deny it to myself, I was actually getting turned on.
"Chris, I told you nothing more than cockwarming! What are you trying to do?"
"I know baby, but I can't help it! Can I please fuck you?" He begged.
At this point my pussy was practically throbbing, and Chris knew it.
"C'mon, I know you want it..." He trailed off.
I stood up, both of us gasping at the loss of sensation.
"I guess we better take this to your room then, yeah?" I said, teasingly.
Within a second he was grabbing my hands and walking us to his room downstairs. He shut the door, locking it behind us. He wasted no time pulling me to the bed, kissing me hungrily. My hands went up his shirt, scraping my nails down his back and stomach, knowing it drives him crazy. He groaned into my mouth before grabbing my wrist and guiding it down to his crotch, making me feel how hard he was. I wrapped my hand around his clothed shaft, slowly jerking him through his pants.
"Suck my dick?" he said, more telling than asking.
I hummed in agreement. I hooked my fingers into his waistband, swiftly pulling them down and letting his cock spring out. I wasted no time taking him in my mouth after licking a stripe up the shaft. Soft groans spilled out of his mouth, finally getting the relief that he needed. He gathered my hair into a makeshift ponytail and held my head, encouraging me to take more of him. I paid special attention to his tip, kitten licking it just to tease him. His hips bucked involuntarily before pulling out of my mouth.
"Sorry, but I don't wanna cum yet baby." he said, pulling his shirt over his head leaving him naked. I did the same, quickly removing my clothes while he watched my every movement. Once we were both bare, I crawled back onto the bed, attempting to straddle him.
"Nope. I love you, but I'm on top tonight." he said, flipping us over so he was now hovering over me.
His hand reached down, running through my folds.
"Damn, so wet for me already y/n."
"Mmm, Chris please just fuck me!"
He kissed me as he began teasing his tip at my entrance. My hips moved with his, yearning for friction. Finally, he pushed in slowly, giving me a few moments to warm up to his size. That didn't last long, as he quickly sped up his movements, hooking one of my legs around his waist for a better angle. A string of curses left my mouth as I was overwhelmed with pleasure. My hands roamed his body, lightly scratching down his back and shoulders.
"Choke me." I surprised even myself by saying this, but I was dying to feel his hands around my neck.
He did as I asked, making sure to not hurt me, but applying just the right amount of pressure. He smirked down at me, loving the effect he had on me. He knew he was driving me crazy.
His thrusts gradually got faster and harder, until I felt myself getting close. I couldn't hold on much longer.
"Chris, I'm close!" I whined.
"I know baby, just a little longer. Hold on."
I was sent over the edge when his thumb came down, rubbing circles on my clit. I came forcefully as he felt me clench around him. His thrusts became erratic and I could tell he was close. With a loud grunt, he pulled out of me, aiming his hips toward my tits. I watched his stomach muscles contract as he jerked himself, his warm cum shooting out onto my chest. We were both a moaning mess, trying to catch our breath and still feeling the effects of our orgasms.
"Damn, we should play mario kart more often if this is how its going to turn out!" he joked
I giggled. "Yes, yes we should."
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starhvney · 4 months ago
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𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟑: 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 & 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃
𝐂𝐖: paranoia, anxiety, physical violence
𝐀/𝐍: mama, a kidnapper behind YOU <3
𝐖𝐂: 5,800+
𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑: @arienic
𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒
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“i can’t believe your parents casually own riverfront property in the mountains. i know we’re here already, but i still can’t get over it.”
“have you seen our house?” zane deadpans sarcastically, rolling his eyes and looking back at aphmau. he’d been hunched over on that log the whole morning, squinting down at the nintendo he’d brought with him.
“you shouldn’t brag,” vylad murmurs from where he knelt down by the ice chest, right by garroth who was cooking everyone lunch on the grill.
“whatever. i don’t know why either of you or mom wanted me to go on this stupid trip.”
“because you need to get out more. the sun is healthy for you, you know.”
you turn your head from the squabbling brothers, rubbing them out as you look around at the scenery. aphmau’s shock wasn’t lost on you, either. the summer sun wasn’t too hot thanks to the northern region this property sat on, yet the rays that shone through the tree leaves and hit your face still kissed your skin with warmth. the distant noise of the river flowing and birds chirping was the only thing heard aside from your friends’ chatter. tall, beautiful trees surrounded the area, closing in the clearing this camping—or more glamping setup was in.
a tall watchtower loomed up on the small hill above you, and below it laid a bunker you hadn’t yet explored. you and the group are currently gathered around the fire pit, the small log cabin everyone was bunking in just off to the side. honestly, as shocked you were to be in a place this beautiful, you’re more shocked everyone’s parents were okay with you guys coming here alone. a bunch of teenagers alone, with no adult supervision? you guess due to your parents’ past friendship (save for laurance), they trusted each other’s kids to be good and not stir up too much trouble. but still.
it makes you wonder. when everyone else in this group grows older, will you all trust each other the same as your parents do? as you all do now? would your kids be friends? would you even keep your friends for that long?
“you look lost in thought,” aphmau murmurs from beside you.
katelyn is next to her, turning her attention to you as she adjusts her blue flannel that matches aphmau’s purple and your own favorite color. the incoming sophomore had insisted you three matched, saying flannel shirts “so matched the camping vibe” and that the girls of the group matching would be “super duper cute”.
“just… thinking.”
“about what?” katelyn prods.
if you’d tolerate my friendship for much longer. 
“the future.”
“ooh, what about it?”
“just what we become. if we’ll all be together by then.”
“hopefully not,” zane grumbles under his breath, earning a sharp glare from not only his brothers but also laurance who’d been quietly observing the conversation.
“it would be so cool if we all lived in the same neighborhood one day!” aphmau suddenly says, hands clasped together as she completely ignores zane’s remark. “on the same street!”
“do you know how hard that would be to find a bunch of houses for sale together like that? you’d have to know, like, a really important realtor.” katelyn says, before her own words clip short at the end as she looks over to the ro’meave brothers, eyebrow raised. “i guess it’s not completely impossible… perhaps…”
“you’d have to really do something big to convince our dad to do that.” vylad muses. “unless something super crazy happened and we all had to live together for like… our safety or something.”
“that’s a weird way to put it.” laurance snorts.
“i’m just saying! it would be a huge loss money-wise for him.”
“he’s right,” zane mutters. “thankfully something like that won’t be necessary, so i won’t have to live by you freaks.”
aphmau gawks, putting her hands on yours and katelyn’s heads. “excuse me? i bet the three of us would be amazing roommates. we’d be the best neighbors!”
“ehhh…” katelyn starts.
“ehh?! what do you mean eeeehhhh? you wouldn’t want to room with me?”
laurance turns to you, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “did one eye just call us freaks? has he seen his haircut?”
“stop,” you snort, giving a scorning slap to his hand. “don’t be rude.”
“hey! he’s garroth’s little brother, so he's my little brother. i get to make fun of him like one,” he defends, eyeing the younger boy with mischief in his eyes. “besides, i’ve been sent here on this earth to humble both him and garroth. they desperately need it.”
you roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile inching onto your face. it was kind of fun to tease them. “but not vylad, huh?”
“nah, look at him.” he gestures towards the youngest, the boy smiling absentmindedly while listening to aph, kate, and zane squabble. “you really can’t make fun of that. bro’s at peace.”
“that’s… so true. he’s really well put together, actually.”
your eyes drift to garroth, who’s setting the freshly cooked food down on the trays
“damn, no plates,” he sighs under his breath, looking around. “how did we forget that?”
vylad frowns, looking at his older brother. “i thought there were some in the cabin…? do we need to run to the store?”
the blond shakes his head, setting the freshly grilled meat onto the metal tray. “no, no. there should be some in the bunker’s storage. i’ll go look.”
you jump to your feet at the mention of the bunker, dusting the stray bark and dirt that stuck to your legs. “i’ll help. i wanted to see what it looked like, anyways.”
garroth shrugs with a smile, slowing his long stride for you to catch up as he trudges up the hill. “it’s not really anything special. just some dusty boxes and stuff down there.”
“aw, man. no secret lab?”
“i’m afraid not. sorry to disappoint.” he grins, stepping forward to open the hatch. 
a shiver runs down your spine at the cool air that wafts up from the dark room below, the contents inside hidden beyond the creaky staircase before you. something about the energy it gave off both drew you in and repelled you at the same time, keeping you still in place as you stared at the dark pit below.
“you scared? i can go first,” garroth offers, waving his hand in front of your face.
“huh? oh no, i’m not scared.”
“…sure…” he teases, snickering at the glare you send as he leads the way. “don’t worry. if you turn back now i won’t tell the others you’re a scaredy cat.”
“scaredy cat? how old are you?”
“older than you.”
you roll your eyes, and despite wanting to smack the boy’s forehead, your focus turns to the buzz of the single lightbulb that flickers on as you both make it to the bottom of the steps. garroth walks over to some boxes and crates that had been stacked in the corner, leaving you to look around at the concrete walls around you.
he was right, there wasn’t much special about it. nothing but cobwebs and crates filled the bunker, aside from a pile of rocks and dirt piled in the corner behind the stairs. as garroth continues to shuffle through his family’s storage, you curiously walk over to the debris. strange. sure, this was just a small vacation spot for the ro’meaves, but they always kept everything so tidy. why would they just leave this junk in here?
squinting your eyes, you catch a dark, brownish red painted on the wall. the shadow of the staircase kept it too dim to read, but you also catch a crack in the wall that looked like an old covered-up doorway. something about it sent a shiver up your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. why is this place freaking you out so much?
“what are you looking at?” garroth suddenly asks from behind you, making you jump in place.
“oh, i was just trying to read this.” you point to the wall, and he pulls a flashlight from his pocket, shining it onto the dusty surface.
you were right. dark, reddish brown is rather messily painted onto the wall as if it were done in a hurry. the writing is illegible, whether it’s in another language or just poorly written indiscernible by you. though, above the writing, you did recognize one thing. it wasn’t words or strange signs, but instead a symbol of a very familiar divine figure.
“is that the irene sigil?”
“oh, yeah. that was there since i was a kid—as long as i can remember. mom just brushed it off saying it was dad playing a prank on us to try and scare us or something. but honestly, i always thought it was just kinda weird.”
“yeah… i know it’s probably paint… but doesn’t that look like blood or something?”
garroth snorts and begins to shake his head, before he hums and leans forward with furrowed brows. “you know… i remember it being brighter red when i was younger. now it’s kinda brown. i’m not great at science but isn���t that what happens when blood oxidizes for a long time or something?”
you raise an eyebrow at that, the two of you making nervous eye contact from the corners of your eyes.
“surely it’s just dirt and time that made the paint fade. why would it be blood?” you dryly laugh, standing straight again.
“yeah. blood would be weird. i think it’s just this place. always gave me the creeps.” garroth nods, following your awkward laughter as he stands tall himself, lifting the small stack of paper plates in his hand. “i uh—i found some plates by the way. so we should probably go eat now.”
“right, right,” you agree, glancing one last time at the ominous drawings before the two of you climb the stairs quicker than you had descended them.
“man. to be able to spend the rest of my days floating around in the water. that would be the life,” katelyn murmurs, her head bobbing on top of the water as she floats on her back. “i know i’m a mermaid in another life.” 
you glance over to her from the float you had lazily thrown your arms over. her hair flowed from her head in tendrils, the color darker from the water but occasionally shimmering as the sun's rays hit the strands. her pale skin and light blue swimsuit stood out from the darker water below her, making her practically glow against the river’s surface.
“i could see that, actually.”
katelyn lifts herself upright, starting to giggle. “right?”
“hey guys! if we want to kayak then we should do it before it gets dark,” garroth calls from the rope swing on the opposite side of the river bank. “you still want to go?”
“of course!” kate calls back, as if the answer was obvious.
vylad whoops while laurance swings himself over the water, the boy flipping back in the air as he goes. he appears on the surface a moment later, smiling as he spits the water from his mouth. “we’ll grab them from the shed!”
“is zane coming?” you ask, wading backward towards the small wooden dock that aph was perched on.
“he’s still pouting up in the cabin. you can go see if he wants to come,” vylad says. “…he probably won’t, though.”
“okay, i’ll go check, anyways.”
“are you sure you don’t want to come in the water, aphmau?” katelyn asks, swimming up to the edge with you.
“ummm, yep!” she smiles, her demeanor seeming a bit nervous as she eyes the flowing river ahead. “just don’t feel like swimming.”
“well, maybe you can kayak with us instead. you don’t even have to get wet for that.”
“maybe…”
wrapping a towel around your shoulders, you begin the walk back up to the campsite, grateful for the stone steps that had been built into the steep hill. trees hung over the path, keeping you shaded while the cool mountain breeze bristled the leaves over your head. your friends’ laughter and splashing in the water fade into the background as you finally make it to the top, your footsteps falling into the grass and dirt as you march up to the cabin door.
it’s dark inside, save for the natural light that filtered through the windows and the lamp lit up next to zane’s bunk. he laid back on the pillows, hoodie pulled over his head as he clicked away at his game. despite your obvious entrance, he completely ignores it, not even sparing a glance in your direction.
“hey.”
“what.”
you hold back the eye roll that fights against your eyelids, instead quietly sighing under your breath.
“we’re going kayaking in a minute. want to come?”
“no.”
“it’s the last evening of our trip. don’t you want to at least try to have a little fun?”
“no. i don’t care about swimming or kayaking, so why would i?”
“because i came all the way up here to get you to go.”
“then it was a waste of your time.”
you pull in another sharp breath, and despite the desire to just turn around nagging at your brain, you couldn’t ignore the image of him curled on the school tile. clearly, despite his harshness and wanting to seem like he didn’t care, he did seek validation from others. his whole act of being a punk and trying to get that validation from gene of all people nagged at your head.
“you know… actually not having people and friends who care about you isn’t very much fun. i’m sure a lot of people would kill to be in your place right now.” you shift on your feet. “not trying to lecture you or something, but you should at least try and have a little fun, since you’re already stuck here. in the future, you might regret not taking advantage of this time with everyone.”
“i don’t need you to tell me anything,” he grumbles, though not sounding as snappy as before. “i don’t like socializing. is it that hard to understand?”
“no. i don’t necessarily like it all the time, either. it can be really draining. but so is being alone all the time. you can think you like it but it eventually just makes you bitter. you never know when you’ll turn around needing someone to help you only to realize you’ve pushed them all away.”
“oh, like you’d know anything about that,” he snips. “you get coddled by everyone 'cause you can’t go outside without getting scared about some—“
he flinches like the sour words that left his mouth had spat out of his lips before he could even think of them.
“what an awful thing to say. you don’t know anything.”
his mouth is agape, and the eye that’s visible to you for once seems full of guilt.
“the offer still stands. i just thought i’d let you know.” you turn around, teeth tugging at the skin of your lip as you step out of the cabin.
stupid boy.
you make it to the edge of the camp, at the top of the stone stairs, when the cabin door creaks open and closes. quickened footsteps follow after you a moment later, before the lanky boy quietly falls in place next to you. his head is low, eye trained on the rocky path beneath your feet.
a beat passes in silence, your eyes locked on the steps ahead. he sighs tensely, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“sorry,” he mumbles. “that was shitty to say. even for me.”
you start down the steps, shrugging. “it’s fine.”
he starts to follow, and while no more apologies leave his lips, you can tell he’s sorry enough based on the fact he was still following you to the dock. that alone was enough to surprise you, considering he’d likely rather shoot his own foot than apologize even to his own two brothers. 
“woah, you actually got him out here. you have secret powers or something?” laurance raises his eyebrows, shooting a questioning look at zane who loomed behind you as you approached the dock.
“something like that,” you muse.
“i don’t know if i want to go,” aphmau mutters, her arms wrapped around herself as she rocks on her feet by the water. 
the kayaks are lined up by her feet, four double-seaters in a row.
“well, even zane is going so you definitely have to,” katelyn says, splashing a bit of water by the girl’s feet and giggling when she leaps back.
“you don’t have to, but it’ll be fun! you can go with zane since he also doesn’t want to get wet. then you can both be reassured knowing you won’t tip the other in,” you suggest.
“i would rather not share with her.” zane sneers, eyeing aphmau up and down with a rather sassy look.
the girl takes great offense to this, her fists clenched by her sides. “well—! i don’t want to share with you, either! you have a stupid face!”
“wow. i thought we left kindergarten.” garroth rolls his eyes, nodding his head to laurance, who has already dragged one out into the water and is occupying himself by attempting to jump inside. “looks like he already left with one, anyways.”
katelyn pulls you towards one of the three left, pushing you into the spot in front of her as she slides in herself. you nearly tip over into the water again from the sudden movement, yelping as water splashes on your lap.
“well, that leaves vylad and me in this one. come on you two.” garroth motions to the last kayak left, raising his eyebrows challengingly at the two pouting teens left on the dock. “let’s be civil.”
it took ten minutes of complaining and nervous shuffling before the whole group was out on the water. despite the drama of it all, it was worth it. despite aphmau’s sudden fear of water which you hadn’t noticed before and zane’s reluctance to experience any joy, you could tell they were at least slightly enjoying this, too. the sun was painting the clouds in different shades of orange and pink as it made its way to the horizon, leaving you all surprisingly quiet as you all soaked in the moment.
“what’s on your mind?” katelyn suddenly asks from behind you, and despite nobody else turning their heads over, you could tell they were listening. “and don’t say nothing like you usually do lately.”
a huff leaves your nose, and a few moments pass before you answer. “just about… how…”
“the stalker?” aphmau whispers, pulling everyone’s eyes towards you.
“...yeah. just how weird it was that he showed his face, and now it’s been since before prom since i’ve seen him or the black suv. i just want to know what he’s thinking.”
laurance spins the kayak oar in his hands, before using it to pull himself closer to you.
“you hadn’t seen him before?”
“well, no. i mean, yes, but i didn’t realize it was him until later.” you rub your eyes with the palms of your hands. “it isn’t the first time he’s disappeared for a while, but he gets bolder each time he 'shows' himself to me. it’s just been making me feel on edge, lately, is all.”
there isn’t a response to that for a few beats.
“sorry, that was a mood dampener.”
there’s a collective shake of heads (besides zane), a few protestant “no”s echoing across the group.
“it just sucks. how has police not done anything?”
“they can’t actually do anything unless an actual threat to my life is made. plus, he’s so inconsistent with his appearances that it would take a lot of resources and time from emergency services if they tried tracking him. at least, that’s what the cops said before. that’s why i moved in the first place.”
katelyn scoffs. “that’s such bullshit. they just wait until something bad happens? it shouldn’t matter how long it takes. that’s psychological warfare.”
you shrug, bringing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on them. “yeah, but unfortunately that’s how it works. i guess i’m just scared that i’ll have to run again. i’ve never had friends like you guys… so the thought of having to leave you all behind right as i get to be normal is really scary.”
“no matter what happens, you’ll always be our friend," vylad says, giving you a hopeful grin. 
“and as your friends, we’re here to protect you,” garroth adds, uncharacteristically serious. “we won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
the van rocks forward as garroth parks, the sunset shining through the windows and creating bright shapes across your eyelids. cracking your eyes open, you reluctantly pull your cheek from where it had snuggly rested on katelyn’s shoulder, consequentially stirring up aphmau who was laid across your lap. the icee she’d gotten on the trip back was still precariously set between her legs—it was shocking that it hadn't spilled onto her lap as the three of you slept in the back.
aphmau’s house meets your eyes as you clamber out of the back seat, your own just right down your line of vision. you were back home. a smile lifts on the corner of your lips at that. it wasn’t just a place you moved into, anymore. it was home. as were the teens that crawled out from the ro’meave’s van. home.
a strange shiver of being watched prickles at your neck, and your attention turns from your friends to the street behind you. nothing is there but the other houses on the street, the cars you saw regularly parked in their driveways. 
everything is fine. the neighborhood is peaceful in the evening time, the summer insects chirping away as their time of the night comes. the air around you is calm, yet your breath seems to catch in your throat, the hot air invading your lungs rather than warming them. your heart thuds in your chest, its pace so rapid it feels like it’s stuttering against your rib cage. 
you hadn’t stopped thinking about the markings on the bunker wall the whole trip, the imagery of the creepy, bloody-looking drawings still imprinted in your mind. on top of that, the conversation you’d had last evening was still buzzing around in your head, making for a rough mix of paranoia.
“are you okay?” aphmau whispers from right next to you, finally pulling your eyes from the street to the worried-looking girl next to you.
“yeah… just thinking. about things.”
that was eloquent.
you’re grateful for this trip. ever since she’d started talking to that aaron guy she seemed to have a lot less time to hang out or even talk to you as much, so having some time with the girl by herself was nice. you honestly didn’t blame her for her puppy love with the guy. you’d thought of him as a delinquent at first, but he wasn’t so bad at prom. he was a little quiet, but he was actually pretty nice as far as you could tell. he was the tall, dark, and handsome type, and that was a perfect contrast to the walking sun that aphmau was.
she hums looking unsure, before reluctantly letting it go as you wave her off.
“really?” katelyn suddenly groans, staring down at her phone.
laurance turns to look over his shoulder at the girl, a mischievous smile dancing across his face.
“what?”
“you know what! you little creep, why'd you post this? delete it, now!”
laurance begins to snicker. “no. it’s funny.”
you walk to katelyn’s side as she sends a sharp glare at him, peering over her shoulder to see her instagram open. recently posted by laurance was a picture of him and vylad cheesing into the camera, their faces at the bottom of the screen while you, kate, and aph were passed out in the background.
“i look awful. my mouth is open! i look like a mouth breather!”
“no… you three look… adorable…” he says between giggles, before yelping as the girl charges at him. aphmau chases after them as they run inside, her hands frantically waving for them to stop.
you walk after them, the ro’meave brothers—save for zane who’d been dropped off on the way—following along behind you into the salome residence. surprisingly you didn’t hear any shouting or wrestling as you’d expect, and instead, kate and laurance have crowded around the kitchen island that was filled with snacks.
sylvanna lets go of aphmau, who’d been wrapped up in her clutches for a tight hug, and sets her sights on you. 
“mija!” she rushes you, pulling you in her arms and rocking side to side. “did you all have fun?”
“yes! it was a lot of fun,” you laugh, the tenseness in your shoulders leaving with every shake from the woman. “thank you for letting us all stay here for the night.”
“of course! as long as the boys here behave themselves, then your vacation doesn’t have to end just yet!” she says, her head whipping to the three guys who stiffen at her burning glare.
laurance looks at the feisty woman from the corner of his widened eyes, cheeks full of chips as he nods.
“of course. we’d never, miss sylvanna.” garroth smiles. “our mum taught us better.”
“of course she did!” she lets you go from her grasp, walking back over to the group with a chipper grin. “just making sure you don’t forget. zianna gave me permission to whoop all of your asses if you try anything!”
“mom…” aphmau sighs, rubbing her forehead.
“what? just speakin’ the truth, yo!”
aphmau groans into her hands.
you walk over to the snacks, picking up some small bite-sized things to nibble on as the lively conversation continues around you. everyone looks so happy. their smiling faces bright in the dim kitchen light, laughter carrying through the air of the cozy house and wrapping around you like a tight warm hug. part of you wishes you could sit in this moment forever, standing in the kitchen and watching your friends chatter amongst themselves. it was such a simple moment, yet you felt as though you should hold on to it.
“nothing—“ you start, before shaking your head with a smile. “i’m just glad we’re all friends.”
everyone stops, and as they all smile at you you don’t feel the need to hide or curl away like you usually would when faced with many eyes on you. there’s no prickling in your hands, or a coldness in your chest. you just feel warm.
“awwww,” sylvanna coos, aphmau making a similar sound as the two wrap their arms around you and press their cheeks into your hair. “we love you too!”
“you’re the cutest.” katelyn laughs, wrapping her arms around the three of you—with the boys following quickly after.
the moment lasts for a good ten seconds before you feel overwhelmed by the love being poured onto you.
“okay, okay. i’m gonna run to my house really quick to grab some things.” squirming out of their arms with a giggle, your cheeks burn hot from the affection.
“okay, mija. don’t take long.” sylvanna taps your nose.
you nod and make your way to the front door, pausing when you realize the sun has already disappeared, leaving the space beyond the window dark and black. for some reason, it sends an anxious feeling through your chest, and as you reach for the door you nearly jump out of your skin as garroth’s hand lands on your shoulder.
“hey. didn’t mean to scare you.” he smiles nervously, his hand waving over your shoulder like it would wipe away the fright he’d just given you.
“oh! it’s okay, garroth. what’s up?”
“you just looked a little nervous earlier,” he says, shifting on his feet. “are you thinking about… everything? i can walk you to your house if you’re feeling scared.”
a deep breath of air fills your lungs. sweet garroth. all of your friends were, and you knew they’d all come running to help you if you called—and you were just stepping right down the street. there’s nothing to worry about.
“no, that’s okay.” you reach out to pat his arm. “thank you, garroth. i’ll be okay.”
“are you sure? i really don’t mind.”
“yeah. i’m sure.”
he looks hesitant, but takes a step back with a small smile. “okay, then. see you in a bit.”
“mhm.”
you open the door, step out, and give a wave before continuing out to the pavement. the lingering heat from the summer sun wavered in the air, though the cool night breeze was beginning to blow it away, leaving the air perfectly warm against your skin. ignoring the tingling in your fingers, you keep your shoulders high as you cut across the lawn to the sidewalk, shoes clicking against the concrete.
glancing back one last time, garroth was slowly closing the door, watching you walk away before completely shutting it.
your eyes rake the street beside you, street lamps and the moonlight lighting up every car on the road. each neighbor had their vehicles in their regular spots, everything seeming in order as you check every house one by one.
everything is fine, right? so why do you feel so on edge?
swallowing thickly, you take a shaky inhale and bring your sweaty hand up to zianna’s locket. this walk to your house feels longer than usual.
what’s that noise?
eyebrows pulling together, your eyes narrow as you look ahead, to where the street lamp ahead shone down on an idled vehicle in the road.
black paint reflected back at you, but not the lights. no, the only hint that it was on was the low hum of the engine.
you don’t realize you’ve frozen in place—nor that your breaths had stopped—until you suck in a sudden breath to chase away the swirling black dots that swam around your peripheral vision. you’re one house away from your home, two from aphmau’s. the vehicle is in front of yours.
would you have better luck running forward to your house? or turning around and booking it back to hers? have you already messed up by standing here like frozen prey?
you tear your eyes from the suv, flicking your anxiously blurred vision to the street ahead of you. a woman’s silhouette approached you, and you finally registered the clicking of her heels over the pounding of your heart in your ears and labored breathing. the distant street lamp shines on her hair, the powder blue a strangely familiar shade on your eyes. should you ask her for help? but why would a woman be out here in what looked to be formal attire?
no. she’s with him. you need to run.
it takes a second too long for your body to obey your mind, but you do turn, legs unlocking from their stiffened place and ready to run. you only make it two steps before you look up, a gasp you can only describe as terror filling your lungs when you see the man standing just five steps behind you. dark eyes bore into you, and it felt like you were staring into the depths of an evil entity rather than whoever this man was.
you bring your fist up to your face, slotting the metal whistle between your lips.
before you can even take in a full breath, the man has closed the distance, the back of his hand smacking across your cheek and pulling the locket from your fingers. you vaguely feel the clasp of the necklace break off from the back of your neck, the locket clattering to the ground and away from your reach. stumbling back from the sting of his strike, there’s barely any time to stand upright before his hand is gripping you by the back of the head, the other bringing a damp cloth up to cover your mouth and nose.
it smells sweet, overwhelmingly sweet. suddenly it’s like cotton candy has filled your head and lungs, your vision swimming dizzily. with whatever strength you have left, you dig your nails deep into the man’s hands, dragging down and successfully getting him to drop you with a grunt.
stumbling forward, you fall on the pavement, crawling to the street. your vision turns and twists, feet clumsily dragging underneath you like an injured deer.
you hadn’t made a sound yet. no one can hear what’s happening right now.
weak arms give out from beneath you, your cheek colliding with the rough street. turning your head, you try to scream, but your lungs give out on your attempt and merely exhale a small helpless whimper. heels appear in front of you, and you look up to see a halo of blue before something pricks against your neck.
and everything goes black.
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©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.
tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @arienic @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @remiechu @valentique @kalegrinch
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anton-luvr · 1 year ago
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Could u do a fic where the reader and Anton are best friends and have a sleepover. By the time they go to sleep it starts to storm and she’s scared of thunder so she asks Anton to sleep with her in bed instead of him sleeping on the couch. So like Anton holding reader and kind of cuddling to calm her down. Reader realizing she likes Anton more than just as a best friend so she kisses and him and he gets all shy but likes it because he likes her too and just kekdowodos really fluffy and cute 🥹💕 Thank you in advance I love your work!!☺️🫶🏻
# MY FAVORITE LOSER.
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𖦹 bf!anton x fem!reader | fluff | best friends to lovers au 𖦹 note ; mwah tysm anon i love you,, also this is ADORABLE... thank u for requesting i hope u like it!! + reqs are closed !
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Fun fact: you were terrible at Mario Kart.
Nintendo music accompanied by Anton's laughter echoes across your apartment as he wins the game again, grinning proudly.
"I told you, Princess Peach always wins." he boasts, waving the controller happily.
You scoff, folding his arms. "Hey, Yoshi can win too! Just you wait, I'll win you in the next round." you reason.
But just like the past five games, you don't.
"Just admit I'm better, hm?" Anton suggests, smiling.
You roll your eyes jokingly at how proud your best friend is, gently shoving him.
"Okay, let's not play anymore." you say, exiting the game and setting the controller aside. "How's life?"
Anton's eyes light up at the question, and he quickly sets the controller aside too.
He loved talking to you.
Whether it was a deep conversation about personal struggles or a stupid discussion about the validity of soap (don't ask), Anton knew you would always listen.
Your conversation goes on to the late hours of midnight, with Anton telling you about his upcoming vacation to Korea and you telling him about the random fight you witnessed at your lecture the other day.
By the time he's done talking about the cute cafe he passed by yesterday, it was already past two in the morning.
"And they have really cute cups too! We should go there someday." he says, stifling a yawn.
You nod, eyes drooping shut. "I think we should sleep." you mumble, stretching with a groan. "I only slept for four hours yesterday."
Anton gasps at this, dramatically shaking you by the shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? You should go to sleep, right now." he scolds.
Chuckling, you get up from the sofa with both of your hands up in the air. "Okay, fine! I'll go to sleep now."
Anton hums at this, pushing you towards your room. "We can talk more tomorrow," he says. "You look like a zombie right now."
He runs away too fast for you to hit him for the insult, giggling as he retreats to the living room. "Goodnight!" he calls out, waving cheekily at you.
"Goodnight!" you call back as you close your bedroom door.
Flopping onto your bed, you let out a happy sigh.
It was nights like these with Anton that made life feel worth living. You're still smiling contentedly to yourself as you get comfortable under the covers, drifting off to dreamland.
Until the roaring sound of thunder snaps you right out of it.
Each flash of light shining through your room made you flinch, the angry raindrops pelting against your windows making panic rise in your chest.
Scrambling out of bed, you run into the living room, almost tripping over your own feet in the process.
"Anton." you whisper nervously, tugging at his hand. "Anton, wake up."
The sleepy boy wakes up in a jolt, frowning in confusion. "H-Huh?" he mumbles, sitting up slowly. "What's wrong?"
"Can you sleep with me? I'm scared." you rambled, gasping in short and nervous breaths.
Even though Anton was half-awake, he immediately agrees.
He stumbles his way into your room and gets under your covers, making sure to pull it over you too.
"Are you okay?" he asks softly, voice groggy.
His heart breaks when you shake your head no, eyes filling up with tears.
"Don't cry, it's okay." he says, hugging you. "Just... think of it as the sky farting. That's what I used to tell my brother."
Even though you were almost scared out of your wits, you couldn't help but let out a little snort of laughter.
"Wow, that helps a lot." you deadpan, snuggling closer into his arms.
"I know right?" he giggles, rubbing your back gently.
But it actually does.
The fury of Mother Nature didn't seem so scary anymore at Anton's joke and in the security of his warm embrace.
You realize a lot of things aren't that scary anymore whenever you're with Anton.
Despite the both of you being rather shy and reserved people, he somehow always brought out the best in you.
Just his presence alone gave you confidence and security, knowing that there was always someone there who loved and supported you unconditionally.
From him cheering you on for your nerve-wracking first day of college to him helping you tell the waitress she got your order wrong at the local diner, he had always been there for you.
And even with him being half-awake, he still looked gorgeous.
His eyes sparkled with a love for the world brighter than the stars, the soft smile he flashed you warming your heart up in a way no one else could.
"Thank you." you whisper, looking up at the curly haired boy. Without another word, you kiss him on the cheek.
Anton feels like the world stops when you do so.
All the blood in his body rushes up to his head, the tips of his ears turning as red as apples while he blinks rapidly.
"W-What was that for?" he stutters, avoiding your eye contact.
"For this," you say. "For everything, actually. I think I like you." you admit.
Anton thinks he just might pass out.
Millions of thoughts run through his mind, but he says what he's been wanting to say for a long time.
"Well, what if I told you I liked you too?" he mumbles, finally meeting your eyes.
"You're joking." you mutter, even though you were praying that he wasn't.
"No, I'm not." Anton starts, turning so he could face you better.
"There's no one else I like to spend time with as much as I do with you." he confesses, gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ears.
"You're the only one that makes me feel this way, no matter what you do. Even if it's just you losing in Mario Kart for two hours straight."
You open your mouth to argue, but Anton puts a quick end to it when he kisses you, this time on your lips.
"You're my favorite loser." he whispers. "Can you be my loser forever?"
Nodding, you can't help but smile at how corny your best friend - no, your boyfriend - could be.
"I'll be yours forever."
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© anton-luvr, 2023.
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midnight1nk · 26 days ago
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So, this week's episode...
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[spoilers below cut]
oh boy, the first episode (+ review) of the year! i am SO EXCITED what they have in store for us for all of 2025, i'm SCREAMING!
(the following is my live reaction:)
god i missed the intro
"...but you can watch the other episodes" no no it hits different
OH we're doing transitions, huh?
he's so silly 💙
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MARIO HI
quite a resolution but mario please drink water
THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING, FOUR
just love the small bits of smooth animation, fantastic
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HOLY SHIT FUEGO you came back
and we still got James to voice him, let's gooo!!!
well uh, i didn't expect that song
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WHEEZE he's going full-on Mary Poppins, bye bye
if you're gonna make it, don't jinx it mario
sure, we ran out of water, but at least Luigi is supportive :)
HUH what do you mean we're sold out of water? how convenient
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...mario don't you dare even think about it
NO NO NOOO
and it exploded, wow
oh HI SMG3!!
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*inhales* Three... honey.... can i ask why?
is it bad to say that this feels out of place? idk maybe that's just me
then again, welcome to the SMG4: where literally anything can happen
also great to see the Crew here 💙 hi to all
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enjoy the salt! :D yummy yummy
goddamn we started a whole dry-out apocalypse
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*ghostbusters theme* 🎶 when it's the end of the world and you're about to die, who are you gonna call? the military! 🎶
worse than death? oh, tummy aches. understandable have a great day! *mary-poppins out of there*
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i find it peculiar that we're getting a lot of moments with jesus hmmmmm....
not even God could save us
desperate times call for desperate measures
...well all that just happened and still nothing? maybe throw some explosives to crack the bottle?
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damn Three, whatever's going on with this idea of yours, it's not working
but it's nice to have Eggdog helping his dad out
y'know Mario can be a great salesman (learned from the best by Nintendo)
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eh close enough, welcome back Sonic Adventure 1 *explodes*
and you got your water Mario, i see no problems here :)
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oh plot twist! i didn't think we were gonna get another scene with Fuego tbh
🎶you drink. must drink. you need your zinc—🎶 oh Mario c'mon, that song was really getting into my head
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and as always, a chaotic ending
Congrats to Axel (who's indeed here on Tumblr) for your art featured at the end credits 🎉 love your Saiko art 💙
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.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.
I gotta say, this has been a good start for 2025! I'm so glad the Team was able to get a break before then (which they honestly deserved) and now we have a silly little episode today, you just gotta stick with the chaotic vibes of the show :D
And WOW Fuego's return was not on my bingo card but here we are. That was a nice surprise. Plus, some of the creative choices made really went well with its funny moments. It just spices it up, y'know.
Just learned that Shadow sang the song bit at the beginning of the episode and voiced the one fish guy (I FREAKIN KNEW THAT VOICE SOUNDED FAMILIAR) which is awesome fun fact!
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And apparently there was an extended scene that was trimmed for today's episode by Star, that you can see the full version (here's the link for you to check it out!)
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It feels great to watch an episode that feels like it belongs in the show itself. And no, i haven't forgotten the Dasani x SMG4 lol (ah yes, the true ship of the show) Like I said, it's a good start and I'm so excited what they got for us bc I know the Team's scheming something, I can FEEL it. 4 dollars, bet on it!
And an extra certified point from me FOR NOT ADDING FLAREGLOW OMG I WAS WILLING TO ALLOW IT IF IT WAS GONNA BE A JOKE BUT IF IT WAS A LEGIT SONG I'M GONNA GO INSANE GONNA GO CRAZY I WILL TAKE THE DRINKING WATER SONG ANY DAY THAN THAT PIECE OF—
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thanks for stopping by and remember: numbers go first! :) and I'll see you in the next one!!
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weirdmarioenemies · 1 year ago
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Name: Honebon Debut: Super Mario Land 2: 6 Golden Coins
The year is 1992, and Nintendo is making a hit sequel to the video game Super Mario Land for the Nintendo Game Boy. The previous two games in the Super Mario series, Super Mario Land and Super Mario World were both massive hits, and if you know anything about video games, it's obvious why: both had Skeletal Fish Enemies!
If Super Mario Land 2 was to have a chance of succeeding at all, they'd have to include a Skeletal Fish Enemy. But they couldn't just bring back Honen or Fish Bone, no. It was the '90s! We needed a hip, new skeletal fish for Cool Teens!
And so, Honebon was born! Isn't the miracle of childbirth amazing? Unfortunately, Honebon was born a skeleton, which is always a bad sign, because as it turns out, Honebon was dead on arrival...
Now don't get me wrong, Honebon has a few distinct traits to separate it from its Skeletal Siblings. Its attack pattern is unique, since it moves in a zigzag shape instead of a straight line, and according to Perfect Ban Mario Character Daijiten, while Fish Bone is the type to hold a grudge, Honebon has an amiable disposition! So if you're ever looking to befriend a skeletal fish, let that be your guide!
I also think Honebon's name is really funny. It's a portmanteau of hone, the Japanese word for "bone," and the English word "bone". And despite the fact its name doubles down on this being a skeleton, all the official material seems to describe it as a Cheep Cheep's gh-gh-gh-ghost!
But even with all of that, it's clear that Honebon's story as a Mario enemy ended as soon as it began. Honebon was competing for a niche that had already been filled multiple times over. It's a real Spike Eel situation over here! Clearly, Mario games didn't need any more skeletal fish enemies...
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Name: Jean de Fillet Debut: Super Mario World 2: Yoshi's Island
But just because they didn't need another, that doesn't mean they didn't want another! I mean, come on! None of the previous skeletal fish had names that were dated pop culture references, so clearly there was an untapped market there!
You think there wouldn't be much ground to cover with another skeletal fish enemy... and you would be right! There is not all that much unique about Jean de Fillet. Much like Fish Bone and Honebon, it is described as a skeletal Cheep Cheep, despite none of the three really having Cheep Cheep anatomy at all, and much like Honen, its attack pattern involves jumping up to attack Yoshi. They can swim through lava I guess, but I'm not really convinced the other skeletal fish can't do that.
You see what happened? They ran the well dry, and all the fish that were living in the well for some reason died. Nintendo was just left with a bunch of fish skeletons, and all they could do at that point was put them in Yoshi's Island! Sad! Many such cases.
But due to Yoshi's Island going on to become a whole series of its own, Jean de Fillet would have a little more staying power than Honen or Honebon. Which is to say it appeared in Yoshi's New Island, where it even gets a boss variant named Furious Fred de Fillet!
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Now it's kind of debatable whether or not Yoshi's Island is mainline, but if you include it, that's four mainline entries in a row that each introduced a completely new skeletal fish enemy! Super Mario Land and Super Mario World both did it, and so would their sequels.
Did this madness ever end?!
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Name: Bonefin Debut: Super Mario Galaxy
Not before they could sneak in just one more skeletal fish enemy! It had been over a decade since Jean de Fillet, and in that time it had become the future! That meant their next skeletal fish had to be made of metal. Everything is chrome in the future! (Reference to "Bob")
And since they had a whole new dimension to play with, we were no longer starved of unique attack patterns! Bonefins lock onto Mario, and charge in that direction until they either hit him or hit a wall and explode. (Reference to "Bob")
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Bonefins solely appear in the Bonefin Galaxy. They serve as mooks to Kingfin, a giant Bonefin that appears to be actually made of bone! This boss fight is kinda all that exists in Bonefin Galaxy, but at least they got a whole galaxy to themselves, right?
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This would mark the end of an era however, as when Super Mario Galaxy 2 rolled around, there was no new skeletal fish enemy to be seen. In fact, Bonefin would only cameo as a skeleton, which is obviously and very intentionally meant to represent the fact that regular new skeletal fish enemies are a thing of the past, a product of a bygone age...
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Since then, the series has standardized Fish Bone as their skeletal fish of choice, as they made their grand return in New Super Mario Bros. Wii and have been a series staple ever since. In the process, however, they gained Bonefin's homing attack, letting them do a little more than be Cheep Cheeps for ghost houses and castles!
Is the lack of new skeletal fish enemies another disappointing example of Mario Homogenization? Or did they make the right call, picking a skeletal fish and sticking to it? I dunno. I am completely neutral towards this development.
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mha-cuties-pls · 2 years ago
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Incel!Shigaraki x reader Headcannons
Pairing: Shigaraki x Reader | Rating: M | Words: n/a | genre: smut
A/N: Soooooo, writing these actually gave me the best idea for a scenario 🥴 just in love with the idea of touch starved and incredibly horny Incel!Shigaraki fixating on a girl and attempting to force her into submission, only to find out she had been craving him just as much as he was
Incel!Shigaraki that notices you in public one day when he was out at the mall buying a new video game, unable to tear his eyes away from your suggestively lewd outfit, deciding that a beautiful girl dressed like that in public wanted, no needed, his greedy eyes to objectify you. Shigaraki couldn’t usually have cared less about other people when he went out in public. They didnt share the same intelligence level or tenacity he did, and besides, they would all submit to The League of Villains in due time anyways; there was no point in trying to converse with any of them. That was, at least, until he stopped by the mall one day to pick up the newest edition of a game that had just been released, and his eyes couldn’t help but lock onto your voluptuous figure. It’s not like it was his fault he was staring, in that short skirt and tight tank top you were practically naked. He could even tell you weren’t wearing a bra as his eyes followed each bounce and jiggle of your chest as you walked over to the Nintendo Switch games. Still mesmerized, he watched you from across the store, and his heart began to pick up when you bent down to retrieve Cooking Mama on the bottom row, allowing him to catch a quick glimpse of your underwear. Feeling the twitch in his pants, he was unable to tear his eyes away from you- even when your gaze met his. What really sealed your fate, however, was the fact that upon meeting his eyes, you had the audacity to smirk at his actions. It was then that Tomura decided you needed to be taught a lesson.
Incel!Shigaraki who begins to stalk you in his free time, watching with distain every time he saw you talking to another guy he had never seen before Watching you giggle and playfully hit the male companion who sat next to you at the food court made Shigarakis skin boil. He knew that there was no way you were actually laughing that hard at anything that guy had to say; You were just being the slutty little girl that you were, probably craving and aching between your legs in ways that you should only be doing for him. Shigarakis grimace continued as he fumed from the corner where he sat watching, scratching at his neck and trying not to let his explosive anger get in the way of his careful planning.
Incel!Shigaraki who finally, after observing you for weeks, makes his move when he sees you alone one day buying bubble tea, and despite his inexperience, actually does a phenomenal job playing the part of a charmer. “Why don’t you come back with me for a bite to eat?” He says, voice laced with something that you can’t quite put your finger on. “I know this great hole in the wall and besides,” pulling his hood back a bit so you can more clearly see his features, you saw the ghost of a smile that was almost sinister tugging at his scarred lips, “we’ll be able to talk more privately there.”
Incel!Shigaraki who has never had sex, but wastes no time fulfilling his darkest and roughest desires, living out fantasies he had only ever seen on porn, never imaging he would be blessed with such a beautiful, obedient little whore of his own He stared down with an almost incredulous look on his face as he watched you slink down in front of him with your beautiful ass perched high in the air, your slick entrance shining in the low light of the room just begging for him to finally enter. He shoved himself inside clumsily and with force you weren’t expecting, making you cry out as he filled your aching cunt. You heard him breathing heavily, and he declined to move at first. Looking back over your shoulder, you saw his eyes basking in the sight before him. His hands were gripping your ass and shaking it, even giving small slaps watching your fat jiggle in a way more delectable than he ever could have imagined. When he watched porn he always imagined what it would actually be like to have a beautiful woman under him, complacent and begging for his touch; But the reality proved to be so much better than he ever could have thought. Seemingly coming back to reality after his quick daydream, he pulled out ever so slowly, before slamming into you with even more force than before. “____,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, “scream my name.”
Incel!Shigaraki who stares almost too intently at your stark naked form, just drinking in the erotic sight of your curves and soft skin, making you blush a bit and serving to make you feel sexy and a little more confident than you usually would
Incel!Shigaraki who talks a big game, but ends up inevitably going too hard too fast after he finally stuck it in, involuntarily cumming inside you with delicious whimpers of his own Shigarakis ferocious and sporadic thrusts culminated suddenly with an almost violent stop, and he laid his body across your back as you stayed on your hands and knees on the bed. Feeling his dry lips brush your neck with a sloppy kiss caused you to relax, and you felt his length beginning to soften inside you. “Fuck, ____.” His whispers danced lightly across the sensitive skin behind your ear, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the proximity between you two at the moment. “Your pretty pussy was squeezing my dick so good I came faster than I expected.” Then, he snaked his arms around your waist, grabbing your hips, and flipping you two so you both lay on your backs with you cuddled up to his side snuggly. Though just as you were about to let the aftermath haziness of your release lull you into a deep sleep in Tomouras arms, he brushed some of your messy locks behind your ear as he whispered, “I hope you’re ready for round 2.”
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angelsanarchy · 1 year ago
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Elecktrick Children: One Long Weekend- Epilogue Clyde + Y/n
Tagging:@roryculkinluvr@siriuslymooned@cc-luvr@crypticsewerslut@icarus-star@desert-springtime@shady-the-simp@izuoyarmin@mayathepsychic1999
Clyde had come home from working and immediately got in the shower. He wanted to be ready to receive Y/n once she got home because of her terrible work week. Since moving in with one another, Clyde found that they had fallen seamlessly into a life together, having dinner every night, still going to shows on the weekends. He had even taken her home to meet his dad and step mom. Their lives revolved around one another in the best ways possible.
Y/n was exhausted. She had recently gotten a new position with a magazine and he criticized every one of her photos and yet still made sure to use them on the best articles. She had to actually fight for him to "remember" to credit her on the bottom of the photos just so she could get a paycheck. She spent her whole lunch break complaining to Clyde about him and asking him if they could just kill him and toss him in the desert. Clyde had offered her a compromise that she seemed to be okay with.
Now she was finally on her way home with take out ready to spend the weekend with Clyde as he had promised that once she got home, he would get her insanely high, rub her feet and let her beat him in any Nintendo game she wanted. She carried her bags inside and could see Clyde had already pulled out plates and the weed tray.
"I'm home!" She called out and Clyde walked out in only black sweatpants, bare feet and wet hair fresh from the shower.
"Hey baby, I've already got everything set out. I'm going to roll at least 3 joints since its been a tough week." Clyde started to turn the TV on and Y/n dropped the food on the counter, stripping her bags off and staring at him. She hadn't felt this feral in a while just staring at her boyfriend in his most pure form.
"Go get comfortable, I'll bring the food over to the-"
"Are you fucking kidding me?" She finally spoke and Clyde froze, still crouched down in front of the TV. He looked confused.
"Um...what?" He asked almost concerned by the look of digust on her face.
"You...look at you." Clyde looked down at himself before staring.
"What? What's wrong?" He stood unsure of what she was referring to.
"You can't just be a perfect boyfriend and insanely fucking sexy in just sweatpants." She had crossed the floor towards him and ran her hands down his chest making him let out a sigh.
"Jesus Christ, you gave me a fucking heart attack." He ran his hands through his hair and Y/n kissed him.
"Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?" She whispered against his lips. He put his hands on her hips and smiled into the kiss.
"Yeah? I guess a shower really does it for you." Clyde teased as she dropped to her knees and raked his sweats down, exposing his cock in front of her. Clyde jumped slightly at the exposure to the air. She didn't waste any time taking him down her throat and sucking. Clyde groaned looking down at Y/n going to work on his cock like she couldn't help herself.
"Y/n fuck..." Clyde let his hands rest on either side of her head, carefully thrusting into her mouth. She cupped his balls and rolled them between her fingers making his body jolt.
"God you suck my cock so good. I love you so much." He bit his lip, trying not to bust too quickly.
"Where do you want me to cum?" Clyde asked out of breath, nearing his climax.
"Do you have two in you?" She pulled off and looked up through her lashes at him. He shook his head unsure if he could reboot that quickly.
"I already hit the bong so probably just one right now." Y/n gave one more long pull from his cock before standing yanking her panties down her legs and pushing him to sit on the couch. She climbed into Clyde's lap and lowered her dripping pussy onto his cock making them both let out shivering groans. All Clyde could do was hold onto her hips as she rode his cock without any hesitation. She was fucking herself on his cock like it was to save his life.
"Oh fuck Clyde." She whined holding onto his shoulders and raking her fingernails down his pecs. Clyde was on the edge and started thrusting up to match her pivoting her hips down. Her groans turned to screams and Clyde gripped her hips tightly, bruising the skin of her hip as he cum inside of her. Y/n kept saying "yes" as she rode Clyde's cock into her own orgasm slowing her hips and letting her head fall onto his naked shoulder.
He wrapped his arms around her, letting her catch her breath. He could feel both his cum and her own run down his cock as he stayed buried inside of her. When she finally lifted her head to look at him, he laughed.
"Can we do this all weekend?" She asked sweetly and he nodded his head.
"Are you serious? We can stay naked and never leave this fucking couch." Clyde pushed her hair off her face and she returned with her own laugh. They were just two crazy kids in love and enjoying everything that comes with it.
They spent the rest of the weekend, wrapped up in one another, eating take out, playing Nintendo and fucking.
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breezybeej · 1 month ago
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We all have opinions about lost media and media preservation. It's easy to focus on things that are just no longer available or only available as a heavily damaged VHS or whatever but there's something uniquely sad that I've been encountering every year as I try to recreate the experience:
Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles for the GameCube. About 10 years ago, my friend and I cobbled together the GameCube and two Game boy SPs and the connectors so we could play the original game the way it was originally intended. It was, easily, the best experience I've had with a game on the Nintendo GameCube despite how fucking annoying the set-up was. dealing with recharging batteries and all that stuff. getting modern TVs to accept it.
The only way people can experience the best game on the GameCube is to do it this way. The game is rough in single player and the thematic story elements do not hit as hard single player. It is fundamentally a game about spending time with your friends in real life and the characters in the game.
The game was remastered and released on switch and mobile devices (surely that's not a bad sign!) And it was completely gutted. You cannot play the game with other people. sure, when you enter a dungeon you can pull other players in but the dungeons are only Where the action of the game happens. none of the story does. You and your friends cannot invest in each other's world because you aren't traveling the world together. You just play the game parts together, you don't experience the story together.
for an idea of what I mean, think of your favorite book and then think of any adaptation of that book. No matter how good of an adaptation it is, it loses some of the raw impact of its original medium. oftentimes, there is no good adaptation. You end up with a hollow shell of a homunculus of that story.
The problem is that it is so difficult to try and emulate this game. If we truly want to preserve the experience of final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles, we will need basically a bespoke emulation system that allows people to connect over the internet and play the game live together all the way through, not just the dungeons.
Right now. you can get the game, gameboys (you want SPs for the backlight? Those are expensive), gamecube to gameboy connectors, gameboy adapter block for the gamecube, a gamecube all for about $300-700. That's JUST to play crystal chronicles as the game was originally designed: with friends, for the entire gameplay experience.
I know I keep really harping on it but there's no way I can convey how hollow of an experience the remaster is in comparison to the original game. This is like the hill I will die on when it comes to media preservation. It's almost enough for me to want to go into computer science and coding so I can create a crystal Chronicles program that works over the internet and recreates the OG.
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nightfang22 · 2 years ago
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Get Angry
As a special treat for my friend @p34ch-tr33 who always pulls out my best work! Enjoy!
TW:Angst,smut insinuation,alcohol,18+
A tear runs down my cheek as I blow out the last candle on the cake. 20 candles nearly completely melted, wax mixed with icing, I sat alone in the dark as I waited for him. He should've been here 5 hours ago. Kenny promised this year would be different. He promised. I scroll through my Snapchat just looking at people's stories and watching dog videos. I clicked on Stan's story expecting to see cute photos of Sparky or videos with Wendy. What I saw broke my heart. Stan's story was filled with nothing but videos of a party at Kenny's house. I could see Wendy and Bebe taking shots and Cartman and Heidi making out. Butters was hitting on some poor drunk girl in the corner and Kyle was playing video games. Craig and Tweek were watching Jimmy break dance on a cardboard box in the middle of the room. I choked back a hard sob stuck in my throat but ultimately I failed. Then I remembered what my father told me when I was little: Don't cry, get mad. And when you get mad, get even. I picked myself up and brushed myself off, tossing the ruined cake in the garbage before fixing my makeup. I grabbed my keys and sped off in my car to Kenny's house.
Ever since Kenny's dad got that oil rig job and is never home anymore, Kenny hasn't really been Kenny. We used to celebrate each other's birthdays together all the time when we were kids but he's missed the last couple of years. He always made it up to me in the end but this time he completely forgot and didn't invite me to his party! I'll show him. I pull into Kenny's driveway and get out of my car. I knock on the door but there's no answer. 'Maybe the music is too loud for them to hear anything else?' So I knock again but louder. Stan opens the door looking back over his shoulder laughing at something before turning his head to face me. His eyes widen in shock. "(Y/N), what are you doing here?" He has a glass in his hand that has a golden brown liquid in it. I relieve him of his glass and down it. 'Hm, Kenny's dad's Scotch from the fancy liquor cabinet.' "I just came to say hi to Kenny and to remind him of the date. You know, since he didn't invite me to his little shindig." I said through gritted teeth. Stan is just staring at me dumbfounded before saying, "What? Kenny told us you couldn't make it cause you were sick. Everyone was asking about you." I smile softly and hug him. That makes me feel a teensy bit better. "Thank you, Stan. Where's Kenny?" I ask, my voice now calm and soft. Stan steps aside to let me in and points over to his dad's recliner where Kenny is sat watching Kyle play Nintendo. I give Stan back the empty glass and march over to Kenny. I stand in front of him, blocking his view of Kyle's game. I see his eyes widen for but a moment before I kick him square in the junk. "KENNY MCCORMICK, YOU ARE THE WORST FRIEND AND BIGGEST ASSHOLE I'VE EVER MET AND THAT SAYS SOMETHING CONSIDERING WE'VE KNOWN CARTMAN OUR WHOLE GODDAMN LIVES!" I scream at him in front of everyone. He's not wearing his parka so I have a full view of his face and just how red his cheeks are from embarrassment. The music suddenly stops and the whole room falls silent as everyone has their eyes on us. "NOT ONLY DO YOU THROW A PARTY AND TELL EVERYONE I'M SICK BUT YOU FORGET MY GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAY FOR THE THIRD YEAR IN A MOTHERFUCKING ROW, YOU PIECE OF ABSOLUTE DOGSHIT! I HOPE YOU GET TOSSED ONTO A PIKE YOU SON OF A BITCH! I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU GUYS BUT I THINK THAT KENNY KABOBS SOUND PRETTY GODDAMN GOOD RIGHT ABOUT NOW!" And I kick him square in the junk one more time. Just for good measure, of course. "Okay everyone, let the party continue! It is my birthday, after all!" I slit my eyes in Kenny's direction when I say the word 'birthday'.
     The music starts up again and everyone goes back to partying like nothing even happened. I walked into the kitchen to pour myself a heavy drink when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I roll my eyes sighing. Spinning around, I say "Kenny, I'm not sorry for kicking you in the balls and I'm especially not sorry for crashing your party, either." But when I spin around I am not met with blonde hair and blue-green eyes. I am met with messy black hair peeking out of a cute blue hat. "I'm not sorry you did either of those things, too. He really deserved it." It's Craig. I look up at his rather tall frame. Craig has towered over me since we were little. "Oh, sorry. I thought you were Kenny." He fakes being wounded in the chest. "Ouch, (Y/N). That bad, huh?" I could only laugh at his cheesy joke and brush his arm as I reply, "Nah, you're way cuter." His cheeks turn bright pink and that's when I notice Kenny watching out of the corner of my eye. I wrap my arms around Craig's neck and pull him in. We start to makeout and he has me pressed up against the wall. I break away only to pull him up the staircase to Kenny's bedroom. I open the door as Craig takes off his shirt. I turn to him as he pins me to the door, shutting it. He pulls my shirt off and unclasps my bra. He moves me to the bed and takes his hat off, placing it gently atop my head. Removing my skirt and undergarments, Craig kisses his way up my legs before he has me pinned beneath him. I never thought that my first time would be like this. As a revenge tactic with someone I didn't love. Especially not with Craig Tucker. He's leaning down to kiss me again when the door slams wide open. Kenny bursts through the door and pulls Craig off of me by the back of his head, slamming him into the wall. I jump up to my elbows. It appears that Craig is rendered unconscious. He's still breathing at least. I can see his chest moving rhythmically. I stare at Kenny as his head turns to me, his breathing hot and heavy. I can see why. He has a raging boner in his jeans. He pulls off his shirt and crawls on top of me. We make very intense and intimate eye contact for a few silent moments. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I shouldn't have forgotten." I clear my throat. "Or lied to everyone about you being sick. Can you please forgive me?" Kenny gives me his best puppy eyes, the ones that always got me to do whatever he wanted when we were little and even still to this day. "Okay, fine. I'll forgive you." He smiled at me softly kissing me on the lips. "You weren't really about to give away what's mine to Craig, right?" I shake my head while giggling. He chuckles. "Good. Now let me give you your birthday gift." He strips his bottoms and I flip him over. "Let me." I whisper. I get real close to his face before I whisper, "Nice try, asshole." I sit back up and slap him across the face. "You could never have me no matter how bad you want me, McCormick." I spit in his face as I got up, Craig's hat still atop my head. I saunter over to the door taking a final turn to look at Kenny. "You'd just die on me anyways, you fucking flip phone." Those were the last words I ever spoke to Kenny McCormick as I left him laying there confused and sexually frustrated with his cock out in a room with an unconscious Craig.
Word Count:1,358
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7grandmel · 9 months ago
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Todays rip: 17/05/2024
Athletic Doctor
Season 1 Featured on: GilvaSunner's Highest Quality Video Game Rips: Volume 1 Also on: SiIvaGunner: Starter Kit & Essentials
Ripped by Psynwav
youtube
ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL!!
I haven't slept in so long...I forgot what dreams were like.
Honestly - what better way could there be for me to celebrate the 365th main post on the blog, than to be fashionably late by a whole weekend? It's unfortunate, but...oddly befitting, really. Back when I was first starting out with the blog, I actually forgot about posting daily for a solid two weeks - and so, some old-ass posts like Chillin’ Like A Villain and (YTPMV) Bob​-​Omb Battlesources were made in quite a hurry retroactively. Nevertheless, it was on May 17th 2023, over on my main blog @melblur, that I suddenly decided that I wanted to write about one SiIvaGunner rip a day just for fun. After File Select Fusion Collab, I realized that it made more sense just to put these on their own blog, and with Snowball Park - Super Mario 3D World I moved everything onto here. It's all been a bit of a bumpy ride, is my point. But today, I've reached the big milestone that I was originally aiming for all the way back with Running Through Cookie Country - a year's worth of almost-always-daily posts on the weird and wonderful world of SiIvaGunner. And what better rip to discuss alongside this milestone than the channel's biggest hit, the milestone rip to stand above all others: Season 1's Athletic Doctor.
Now, I've been following SiIvaGunner since some of the earliest moments of Season 1, following along with the initial GiIvaSunner termination, the entire Reboot saga discussed in I Saw a Brainwasher Today, the Mashup Crusaders arc of Mr. Rental [B Side] ~ Out of Options, the channel ending of Epic Flintstones... Basically, I was there for just about the entire initial 9-month run, and have with but one Season's worth of an exception (Season 5) been following the channel damn near obsessively since. The point is that, through this, I have been able to follow the channel's most popular videos chart up and down with each passing month: I recall, for instance, how Nintendo GameCube Startup - Console/BIOS Music soared past all other rips back in the day and stayed on top for five month's time. That was, of course, before finally being surpassed by we are number one but with outdated memes over it and subsequently helping kickstart the entire We Are Number One meme trend (funny enough - you can actually find a youtube comment left by me on the rip in late December 2016/early 2017 expressing mild annoyance over the rip's popularity...). Athletic Doctor in comparison was of course always popular, but it took a while to truly climb its way up there - it was in the top ten, then top five, always rising, bubbling in the background. Eventually, starting with Season 3's premiere, the team decided to just make the rip the trailer for the channel for new viewers - where it still sits today, now as the far-and-away most popular rip on the channel.
I feel like the reason the rip became used as the defacto channel trailer, the reason it keeps being referenced in videos demonstrating what SiIvaGunner is all about, is pretty obvious. I've talked a lot in posts like Live and Ooooooooooooooh about how outright *effective* many of Season 1's rips were, and Athletic Doctor is the most prime example of that imaginable - it is a damn near pitch perfect joke executed shockingly well for the time of its upload in the channel's history. EVERYONE knows the music to Super Mario World, either through its usage in the game itself in the 90s, its appearances in games like Super Smash Bros. Melee in the 2000s and Super Mario Galaxy 2 in the 2010s - or just through sheer overexposure to it in just about any era of gaming YouTube. The game's soundtrack is the perfect blend of being immediately recognizable and incredibly easy to hum along to given the entire game basically only has three or so melodies, relying on its central leitmotif to a degree bordering on parody. Likewise as well, EVERYBODY knows Witch Doctor, either through excessive radio play, being a big hit with Alvin & the Chipmunks...or the 2007 Live Action Alvin & the Chipmunks movie that I myself grew up with, it's the kind of vaguely obnoxious (also arguably quite racist) nonsense novelty music that's incredibly appealing to young kids, the same way something like Crazy Frog or its ilk was in the 2000s as well.
Put simply, Athletic Doctor was a match made in heaven - and the joke is pulled off so expertly that it feels redundant to put into words. The Athletic Theme intro is iconic enough to where you're led into a false sense of security right off the bat, the melody swap is subtle enough as to not immediately be noticeable, making the moment you notice it even more noteworthy - only for the track's second loop to become a full-on mashup with the Witch Doctor track. Absolutely perfect escalation, just the right amount of buildup - but most importantly, it ends up actually sounding really good! The joke's great to be sure, very much like Live and Ooooooooooooooh - but I feel like the core reason why Athletic Doctor has continued to endure for so long on the channel, why it keeps getting remixed and referenced and paid tribute to on so many instances, is because it's just a genuinely good listen once the joke sets in. In other words, it is the purest distillation of SiIvaGunner's appeal - a joke so simple, yet pulled off with a magical appeal that remains even all these years later.
Through running this blog, it's that very specific appeal that I've wanted to try and encapsulate with the rips I cover, with what I write about them, to uncover that elusive magic of this dumb shitpost channel. Joel's big Grand Dad reaction that kicked the channel off is a good bit, to be sure, but its not a bit that could've lasted eight years and counting: In its earliest days, its easy to see how the channel could've just become naught but a novelty and fallen off the face off the earth once interest in it died. Yet through each year of the channel's life, with every Season that passes, it's evolved and adapted. Be it the spontaneous chaos of Season 1, the building storyline of Season 2, the mystery and nostalgia of Season 3, the sheer talent on display in the King for Another Day Tournament in Season 4 Episode 1 and the sheer joy of celebration found in Season 4 Episode 2, the whimsical experimentation of Season 5, the sudden introspection and moodiness of Season 6, the pure adoration and love for everything the channel stands for in Season 7, and the ongoing pure silliness of Season 8 - each period of this channel feels as if it's growing in a new direction, never content sitting in one place for too long - and yet the appeal of a rip like Athletic Doctor remains oh so core to the entire SiIvaGunner experience. The experience of which I've made my best effort to cover across all 365 posts on this blog. To show everyone the layers in which this channel goes in.
That's what I've been wanting to show you... but now, before I end this post, I want to briefly talk about what you've shown *me*. I know its a cliché thing to say, but really - it warms my heart EVERY time I receive messages about the blog. This all began as just a way for me to practice my writing ability, but suddenly I was having the actual rippers - the names that I'd admire from my MP3 player but hardly ever considered able to actually interact with - messaging me in private to express how happy my posts made them...not to mention the people in SiIvaCord discussing rips with me, digging into my writing, sharing anecdotes I'd never heard of, and everyone who requested rips genuinely eager to see what I had to write about them...like, again, its the biggest cliché on the planet, and I know this blog really isn't all *that* big in the grand scheme of things - but I never expected to even get more than five people actually engaging with what I post? To everyone, and ESPECIALLY to the silent majority reading my posts without a Tumblr account, the ones engaging from a distance - thank you SO much for validating all that I've done on here.
Now, there's still plenty of posts I have left in me, plenty of ones already in the drafts and unfulfilled requests well in the dozens. But like...tons has happened since when this all started 12 months ago. I got a summer job! I'm wrapping up what's hopefully my final three school courses! I've started listening to so much new music, expanding my music tastes, in huge part thanks to all the digging this blog has made me do! And, of course, getting to be this open about what's likely my absolute weirdest special interest has honestly made me feel more confident in myself as a person, made me a more outgoing individual in general. And so, to get all of my ducks in a row, to help straighten things out for a bit...I'm going to take a break from regular posting on here. I'm aiming for it to be no longer than a month's time - again, I have much I still wish to write about!! - but you'll of course still see me reblogging fanart and other such things on here just from using Tumblr casually. And hey - if you haven't already, I recommend you take the time to go scavenging through The Archive for daily posts that you might have missed! Having a blog with so much writing on it, so many posts, so much to discover for readers old and new...In a way, I've basically made it so that navigating the blog feels just like navigating the vast seas of the SiIvaGunner channel itself. And isn't that just the most fitting way to leave it all on - an ocean of posts, waiting for you to uncover them?
THAT SIIVAGUNNER TUMBLR BLOG WILL RETURN IN SEASON 2
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snailstrees · 3 months ago
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some v5/site spoilers. just my general thoughts LOL
holy shit the new site absolutely FUCKS it feels so. Alive. also the new volume so far kicks butt i love that uni actually got her gamer speech back 🫡 🫡 not to mention the art in the epilogue like. Got damn ! that shading makes my brain itch. AND A NEW CHARACTER HELLO????? actuslly holy ahit thinking of it i think that's like. reboot bonez. like barry's original love interest
i saw the site on mobile and honestly its SO much more accessible now and refreshing. i will probably check it out on pc later though
im so glad we got pretty much Every Single Character in the cast page now even the minor ones because I've been ao curious about them and we knew jack shit of them unless you check tumblr every fucking day. so thats one hell of a good change. the animations and icons also help bring the characters more to life and DOES kc animate well. seriously I can't emphasize enough how much i loved the cast pages they were so fun to read and skim through !!!!
im also glad kc explained the backstory of hemera and barry so the fandom doesn't shit on them for no reason. in this economy we live in we get barely any characters who react to trauma in ways that are considered bad or harmful/through anger 💔
the content warning thingamajigs and saturation bar is also rly handy so i dont get a content warning every 2 seconds
OK gushing over let me talk about some neutral/negative things imo. these are not just related to the relaunch but just. the comic in general
alright so this is basically just nitpicking but there are So Many Fucking Lesbians. nothing wrong with being lesbian i am one myself LOL but literally more than half of the frmale-aligned cast is a lesbian which kinda sucks a bit because. yknow. wheres the representation for other identities
also yeah. all the other crit blogs u were right unis definitely getting really fucking babified. girl has no fuckin flaws or anger or anything of the sort shes just an innocent uwu cinammon roll . head in hands
and my biggest nitpick of all. Cuddles. yeah he's the big bad villain but. he's so cartoonishly evil man. like in his bio it basically states every single bad thing a human (anthry?) person can do and it's just so hard to take it seriously im sorry. like it blatsntly states something along the lines of "there's no trauma or anything of the sort that led to him being like this" and im like. girlypop. thats not how people work. people just don't wake up one day and go "o fuck yea im gonna start hurting animals and torturing people and driving them to suicide and feel good doing it because i want to!!!!!!!!!!" like. No. Not At All. It's just not how shit works yknow. someone HAS to have reason to do shit like this and enjoy it, and not because they're big villain of the narrative and/or because the creator said so. hell BOWSER has more depth than cuddles. bowser is a hopeless romant. he's power hungry and constsntly soing risky, dangerous, or just over the top shit because he wants peach to love him and because he wants to earn respect amongst his people. and he also has a soft a side, being a father and even sometimes helping his arch nemesis whenever someone stronger than him appears and he doesn't want to lose respect, and evn though he does this to feed his ego, he ends up accidentally helping others in the process
.......okay sorry i did not mean to go into that bowser rant i just really like him Oksy. but my point is that just bowser is a character from fucking nintendo and is really cartoonish and yet has more depth and reasoning than the main villain from a webcomic about medical malpractice and trauma. the way cuddles is written overall just gives off vibes of a kid who doesn't actually know how to write stories and assumes the villain has to be the Big Bad for no rhyme or reason
but. overall. i can tell kc and the z//cp staff worked their asses off to get this volume and site done and did they hit the nail right in the head. excited for whats to come
thank u for listening to my thoughts gamers
ps. sTOP LOOKING AT ME WITH THAT SHIT EATING GRIN DORITO HEAD
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iamyoursonly · 1 year ago
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My safe haven (25/12/2023)
merry christmas guyssss! i’m here to serve you a meal so enjoyyyy
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Wearing my headphones, I sit down at a seat on the train back home. My heart and soul can’t wait till the moment of relaxation home comes. I was so excited to finally go home after a whole week of overtime. I really am tired, physically and somewhat mentally too.
The ride was a bit bumpy, about an hour long I’d say. I enjoyed the quiet time alone… Music playing in my ears as I read the book I have kept in my bag for a few months already. One page and another, I scanned through the lines of words, reading every single one of them.
Enjoyable times flies by, am I right? The train reaches its final stop — my stop — as I reluctantly get off. Holding the book in my hands, I jog out of the subway and head to the bus station.
The Christmas decorations in the subway were bright, children were carolling in the station and shops had sales for this festive holiday. I couldn’t help but stop and admire the decorations at the bakery in awe. I take out the scarf from my bag and wrap it around my neck, scared that I might get a cold from the weird weather right now.
My phone buzzed when first I stepped out of the subway, the cold wind blowing in my face. I breathed out a big breath, seeing my own breath in the air. Then I take out my phone, hands freezing.
S: Are you home yet?
You: Almost there
The time was about eleven at night when I finally reached home — my little haven of peace. I love how comforting the environment always is and how well it reflects my personality, the quietness of it and the calmness it brings me. I take off my shoes, and turn on the lights for the living room. A tall and lean figure was seen spreading all over the couch after the lights were turned on.
“Satoru? What are you doing here? On the couch really? You’re going to break your fucking back, dude.”
He stands up, looking a bit offended by my comment. “Hey! First up, I have the right to be here. You gave me the key, alright? Secondly, where if not the couch. Your bed? Lastly, I am not going to break my fucking back, dude. I’m just twenty eight.”
I mutter a little curse under my breath, “You little shit. At least take care of your mess! Do you think I won’t catch the chip crumbs on the couch?”
He quickly tried to swipe the crumbs onto the floor to ‘remove the evidence’ of his ‘crime’. It’s actually really funny I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
I noticed that Satoru let out a visible blush when I started laughing, it was adorable to be honest. But then he started laughing along with me.
“Would you like a coffee?” Satoru asks, “I want to apologise about the mess.”
I stop my laughing and hit his head lightly, “You dumbass it’s 11 right now, do you want me awake for the whole night?” I mutter.
He says sorry quickly though, and promised to get me coffee at a more appropriate time. Then he proposed to play nintendo games together. I kept losing to him but it doesn’t matter.
We have always had so much fun together, since forever ago, because the ‘home is my safe haven’ thing is a lie. The truth is, Satoru is my safe haven. He doesn’t know it though.
A few years ago, his mother met up with me personally after she heard from an ‘unknown source’ that I have a thing for his son. It’s not like I was in any position to deny this fact, ai just didn’t want to accept it yet. But I was definite that the person that told her was my ex that had always been angry at me for always hanging out with Satoru.
“Here take the money and stop everything you’re doing with Satoru.” That’s all I remember her saying but all I did was keep my stance and say no. Then I burst out of the room crying, and ended up in Satoru’s arms again. Telling him all about it.
He went to talk to his mother the next day and he was grounded for a week. That week I felt alone and empty and sad without him. And started to over think that I was the bad influence for him. So I asked my mother if I could transfer schools, at least somewhere away from Satoru. Because as long as Satoru is happy, I am.
I remember seeing a girl on Satoru’s instagram stories, apparently she was his girlfriend and it was just to ‘take his mind off all this drama’. Not that I’m blaming him though. I could only make myself believe that: I’m the coward that ran away and I don’t deserve him.
When I thought the ‘feelings’ were finally over after five years of ‘No Satoru’, I returned and took up a nine-to-five job as a secretary for the company Satoru’s family owned.
It was just to test out if I still had the butterflies in my stomach when I glance at Satoru’s pretty face. Well they’re still there, all that distance and time away didn’t really work.
“Hey! Satoru! The crumbs are on the floor now, oh my god! Why do you keep doing this to me every time you come to my house! Do you really want me to get into trouble with your mother again?”
He let out a slight chuckle, “It’s fine, because I’ll be there with you this time.”
I breathe out, “What?!”
He continued, “Have I ever told you why I came back to you after you left for so long?”
“To be honest with you, Satoru. I don’t really want or need to know, because you’re here now and that’s what it matters. But go ahead and talk.”
He smiled and nodded, “You know when you left, I was practically a living corpse. At least my mom said I was. I didn’t want to believe that you were gone. I thought that you were strong enough to trust me to handle this… But you were gone. And when I realized it was a little too late. I gaslighted myself that you were just going on a small vacation and you’ll be back soon. But the next time I saw you was at your job interview. And you were working for my top employee, you didn’t know how happy I was, I may have cried tears of joy in the bathroom.”
I hug him, “Sorry for leaving. And thank you for telling me all this”
He hugs me back, “Yeah. Can I tell you something?”
I nod, “Go ahead, Satoru.”
“I like you.”
Well that was the thing that I least expected he’d say. ‘I like you’? Really? Was I happy? Or was I not. But I just wanted to fling my arms over his shoulders and give him a big hug and an even bigger thank you.
But we’d be good at dating, since we’ve known each other for so long, we already fought and figured it out. We have known each other’s likes or dislikes, and he could take me out on dates filled with joy and fun. Maybe we could try it out, even if it ruins the friendship. It’s worth it if it’s ruined for you.
So I hug the taller male, smiling on my face and also deep down, “Thank you. Thank you for liking me.”
I didn’t know what to say, it was a bit shocking. Maybe it all just happened too fast, or was it because I couldn’t process too much and was just hallucinating. I pinched my cheek hard and I was everything BUT hallucinating.
“Is this real?” I asked Satoru.
He looked at me with a smile and smiled, “Unfortunately, yeah.”
I hit his chest because of his childishness, “I can’t with you.”
“But you like me too don’t you?” He shrug.
“What did you say??!” I start yelling at him, grabbing the TV controller that was on the couch. “Come here, boss. Let me hit some sense into you!”
He run away frantically, as a joke of course, he knew I was joking, that’s how well we know each other. Then I catch him, I grabbed ahold of his waist from behind, “Caught you.”
He hold his hands up like he had just been arrested, “Oh no! I have been caught.” He said with a tone of sarcasm. He turned around and held me up, I was shocked of course, I yelped when he first did. Then his face was close to mine, so close I could feel his breath on my face.
“I really like you, I’m not joking.”
Feeling brave, I grab his face. “Guess what, I like you too.”
Then I kiss him, and it was ethereal, as if all the butterflies in my stomach had exploded. And it was just like the world has left the two of us behind. Just him and I.
“Really?” He breathed out, “You mean it?”
I continue holding his face, looking him in the eye, “What do you think? Does it feel unreal?”
Satoru chuckled, and held my face too, “It does.” My face grows red from it, I don’t know if it was because of the cold or because of him anymore, but either ways I’m grateful enough to have him here already.
“Also, sweetie. You’ve made my year even more special,” He says, and I look at him. The clock chimes, signalling that it’s now 12am, “Now I can finally change my way of saying ‘Merry Christmas’ to you. I’m going to say ‘Merry Christmas, darling’ from now on.” I could just smile at this sweet gesture, “Then what should I say? ‘Merry Christmas, ‘toru’?”
“I’d like that.” Satoru says, then he leans down and kisses me again.
“Merry Christmas, darling.”
“Merry Christmas, ‘Toru.”
This Christmas, and the next and the next next, until forever. I wish to be in his embrace, his warmth and pray that our love will be eternal.
BONUS:
“Look here, princess.” He says, making my eyes look at him on command, “Yes, dear?” I mimic his tone as I look at his gorgeous eyes. He laughed when I did.
“What??” I asked, pouting, “So it’s only funny when you do it?”
He jokingly commented, “Of course it is, no one has my sense of humor.” I playfully hit him and he dramatically pretended if I had hit him in the gut hard. “Oh my god that hurt so bad!”
He really has a nice sense of humor.
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