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sapphire-writes · 10 months

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Holiday In The Hamptons

Part 3 of The Campaign

pairing: modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: You join the Targaryen-Hightower family in the Hamptons, determined to get back what Aemond took from you.

word count: 7.2k

rating: 18+/explicit (see details below the cut)

warnings: p in v (explicit sex), oral (fem-recieving), edging, overstimulation, blindfold, restraints, fingering, rough s*x, degradation, begging, kissing, pussy slapping, choking, hand kink, finger sucking, alluding to some Daemon/Rhaenyra targcest, language

note: it's been a while! I have no words-- i was inspired and here is the monster I created, I hope you enjoy!

You’d secretly hoped Rhaenyra would throw out the idea of a family outing after the debate with Aegon went sideways. She’d been graceful, smooth, and calculated as always. And Aegon?

Well, Aegon was Aegon.

You suppose Otto Hightower had attempted to prep him. But it didn’t stop him from being a pompous asshole through the entirety of the debate. Interrupting, laughing, and dismissing all of Rhaenyra’s arguments with baseline claims of his own. It was hard to watch.

And yet the public was eating it up.

Funny, they called him. An arrogant, egotistical, narcissist. But funny. The media was far more forgiving of Aegon than Rhaenyra. You suppose that’s why Aegon made a better frontman than Aemond. He was awfully charismatic.

Though you just know it was killing Aemond inside to not be the one behind that podium going head to head with Rhaenyra. A battle of wits is Aemond Targaryen’s idea of a great time. He wouldn’t have needed Aegon’s cheap tricks to win the debate. He probably could have bested her (though that killed you to admit).

“Shrieks Through the Keep,” she read the headline on her phone as you sat in the back of the limousine on the way to the Hamptons, “Rhaenyra Targaryen snaps at Aegon Targaryen during last night’s debate, her reaction reminiscent of her predecessor Maegor Targaryen. Fucking ridiculous.”

Luke sits beside her, Joffrey beside him lost in his Nintendo Switch, furiously pressing buttons and cursing under his breath. Jace and you sit across from them, knees pressed together. You’ve been stiffer around him lately, ever since----

“You did wonderfully,” Daemon had insisted, squeezing Rhaenyra’s knee, “Bunch of stupid cunts.”

Rhaenyra clicks her phone and the screen dims before leaning her head back and closing her eyes. Luke reaches forward, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“It’s only the first debate,” Daemon insists, “The others will be better.”

Rhaenyra lets out a pitiful laugh dropping her head into her hands, pressing her thumbs right under her brow bones. You’ve seen Aemond do the same thing when he’s stressed. Seven save you, can you stop thinking about that asshole?

“Can we talk about something else?” Rhaenyra asks, “Anything else.”

Joffrey pays no attention, his dark curls falling into his eyes, the faint sounds of his game echoing in the small space. Luke’s leg bounces nervously, his eyes darting to you, begging for some help.

“What’s your favorite memory of Summerhall House?” you ask her, eager to change the subject to something else as well.

The side of Rhaenyra’s mouth ticks upwards in a small, sad smile. She straightens up, leaning back against the leather seat. Her eyes look past you, searching for a memory.

“My father brought me here when I was a child,” she tells you, “Every summer we’d come. Just the three of us.”

Daemon watches Rhaenyra carefully as she speaks; his violet eyes never leave her face. You wonder where Daemon had fit in on their family holidays.

“My father hated the beach, hated it,” Rhaenyra continues through a chuckle, “But my mother loved the ocean. We’d spend hours at a time going back and forth. Swimming, drying out on the sand, going back to the water. Father would watch from the deck, always holed up with his models.”

Daemon takes her hand. You watch a pink blush begin to form on the apples of her cheeks, but she doesn’t pull her hand away. Your throat tightens. Aegon had his fair share of gossip present in the tabloids, but so did Rhaenyra.

Not a rumor you hope has truth behind it.

But it’s hard to deny when it's happening right in front of you. Still, you remove your gaze from their intertwined hands and rest your head against Jace’s shoulder.

“You miss him terribly,” Daemon says, thumb stroking the back of Rhaenyra’s hand, “I do as well. He’d be happy that you’re doing this. He always wanted the family together.”

Rhaenyra nods at his words, violet eyes glancing up at her Uncle’s face. He smiles at her softly before turning his head toward you and Jace. You meet his eyes for a brief moment before averting your gaze, heat rushing to your cheeks.

When you look up, he’s still watching you. You force a tight smile which Daemon Targaryen does not return. He knows you know, your mind teases as a weight settles in your gut. You close your eyes, pressing your face against Jace’s neck inhaling the scent of his cologne. You feel his arm tighten around you.

“Not long now,” he murmurs, and you hum in response.

Though you pretend to be asleep for the remainder of the drive, you can feel the fiery gaze of Daemon Targaryen burning through you.

When you arrive at Summerhall House you’re greeted with laminated itineraries and Alicent Hightower-Targaryen waiting at the front door. She holds one out to you, her brown eyes warm and inviting, auburn curls hanging freely down her back, dressed in an emerald green silk dress that falls just below her knee.

Though it's been half a year since the death of her husband she doesn’t look the part of a grieving widow. In fact, she appears more radiant than ever. The death of Viserys Targaryen suits her. Her eyebrows crease together as Daemon brushes by her, ignoring the handout. Her eyes move behind you, eyes searching for someone else.

“Where’s Baela and Rhanea?”

Daemon stops at the decorative table, eyeing the bowl of fruit in the center. Ruby red apples lay piled atop a bed of pears, and fresh mandarins. He reaches for an apple, taking off his sunglasses while inspecting the shiny outer flesh.

“Baela is galavanting around Europe. Last I spoke to her she was in Greece,” he says, biting into the apple, “Rhaena is much too busy preparing for her LSAT to be bothered with this farce.”

Alicent prickles at that, her jaw clenching, and her shoulders straightening.

“I’m tired,” Daemon announces.

“We’re supposed to have dinner,” Alicent calls as he begins his ascent up the staircase. Her words fall on deaf ears as Daemon continues down the hall until he is out of sight. She sighs, trying to hide her frustration as she turns back to you, “Can I get you anything? Something to drink? The espresso martinis are fabulous.”

Rhaenyra smiles politely, reaching out and squeezing Alicent’s forearm.

“None for me, I’m afraid I’m rather tired as well,” she admits, smiling bashfully, “I think I’ll tuck in for the evening.”

“Luke and Joffrey will share the beach room,” Alicent tells her, “Jace and…” she looks at you, as though remembering you’re present, “Y/N….you’re in the room at the farthest end of the second floor.”

You smile tightly.

“Thank you, Alicent,” you tell her, heading upstairs. As much as you want a drink, you’d rather not be stuck with forced polite conversation with Alicent.

The following morning is lights, camera, and action. Playing the role of a happy family is non-negotiable today. You meet everyone at breakfast by the pool, under the shade of the veranda. Mimosas, fresh fruit, omelets, and croissants greet you. You sit across from Daemon and Rhaenyra, as Jace pulls your chair out for you, reaching for a chocolate croissant.

Otto Hightower sits at the head of the table, his gaze icy. You can tell he’s watching Daemon out of the corner of his eye, his tension palpable.

“Aemond arrived rather late last night,” Daemon says, taking a bite of his omelet, “Though I’ve yet to see Helaena. Where is my niece?”

You can’t help the rush of stupid warmth that rolls through you. He’s here. Absent at the family breakfast though. Dickhead.

“Helaena should be joining us this evening,” Alicent says, sipping her mimosa, “I must’ve dozed off, was Floris with Aemond when he arrived?”

Alicent’s eyes are bright, lit up with curiosity.

You wonder if they get along. It appears Alicent likes her, by the look in her eyes. Through the grapevine, you’d heard that mummy didn’t approve of Aemond’s previous fling. That ended rather quickly. Jealousy creeps through your veins; icy tendrils weaving up your spine. Jace meets your eyes smiling.

“D’you like your croissant?” he asks, his grin lopsided.

“Love it,” you tell him, returning his smile with a much colder one.

Jacaerys Velaryon is nice. That’s about all there is to him. An easy man to have on your arm. Easily influenced. Easily manipulated. He has potential, for sure. You’d gotten the same look of approval from Rhaenyra that Floris undoubtedly got from Alicent when Jace had brought you home.

“Believe he said something about her taking the next flight out?” Daemon says, eyebrows cinching together as he tries to remember, “Weather wasn’t cooperating. Something like that. We didn’t engage in further conversation.”

You bite your tongue so you don’t ask where he is. Luke is the one to broach the subject.

“He coming out today?” he asks, referring to the yacht party planned later that afternoon.

“He’s resting now,” Otto informs Luke, “But everyone is expected to be there. On their best behavior.” He says the words pointedly, through gritted teeth.

You reach for your drink taking a long sip of the tart beverage. Rhaenyra cocks an eyebrow at Otto’s pointed tone, reaching for the water glass beside her plate and taking a sip.

“Can I have one?” Joffrey asks, eyeing your mimosa.

“In your dreams,” Luke scoffs, causing the younger boy to pout.

The majority of the morning is spent lying by the pool. You’d put on your swimsuit as soon as breakfast ended, heading back down to get some sun. No sign of Aemond. He must be holed up in his room doing gods knows what. You can’t help the feeling of anticipation that curls in your belly.

The yacht party is meant to happen that afternoon, and as time creeps closer you decide to take action. The intimate family gathering is not one you need to participate in any way, not like the upcoming party later in the week. There’s unfortunately no way out of that event.

“I don’t know,” you tell Jace, “You know I get seasick, baby.” You don’t.

“I don’t want you to get lonely,” he insists, “I’ll stay behind-”

“You go ahead,” you insist, “I’ll be alright. I have a couple of calls to make anyway and I can lounge by the pool.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” you tell him, placing a kiss on his cheek, “Seriously, have fun! Bond with everyone.”

Jace is reluctant but doesn’t argue. You wonder if he cares at all, deep down.

Helaena greets you when she arrives, clad in dark green slacks and a white tank top, a cigarette hanging from her red mouth. You’d only been introduced once before, though you remember her vaguely, a year ahead of you back in school. She’d changed her hair recently, it was cut in a retro shag style, bangs in front of her eyes.

“Jace brought a friend,” she comments, walking towards you, hands in her pockets.

You turn your head, still spread out in your chaise lounge one foot propped on the seat, an arm thrown under your head.

“Surprised I’m still around?” you ask, noting the unashamed way Helaena’s eyes drag across your body.

“Nah,” she says, pulling her cigarette from her lips, “More surprised you’re still putting up with him.”

“Hmm,” you hum in response, “You bring anyone?”

“Why, you interested?” she teases, with a grin, “I’m not getting anyone involved with this shit show. You’ve the right idea, staying behind.”

“I don’t like boats,” you tell her.

Helaena drops her cigarette, stamping it out under her foot.

“Mhmm,” she says, eyes unconvinced, “Enjoy your alone time.”

You don’t answer as she retreats back into the house. You hear the muffled voices as everyone begins to leave for the party. Aemond doesn’t come outside, and doesn’t ask why you’re staying behind. You try not to let that vex you, but can’t help it. Sighing, you close your eyes as the sounds of distant voices fade, along with the car engines in the driveway.

Suddenly, an idea strikes as the sun begins to dip below the horizon no longer offering the heat from earlier in the day. Getting up from your spot, you throw on your cover-up and tread into the house. It’s silent, beside the gentle sound of the central air system.

You need to find your necklace. The one Jace had given you. The one you’d so carelessly left behind during your last rendezvous with Aemond. Jace hadn’t stopped asking about it, and you just knew it gave Aemond some sick sense of power, holding that over you.

You hurry up the stairs, padding down the hallway until you reach Aemond’s room. You’d heard Alicent mention last night which room he and Floris would be staying in. Taking a deep breath, you open the door.

Aemond’s room is neat; just as you’d expected. His two suitcases were closed standing side by side at the foot of his bed. White pillows are fluffed to perfection; you doubt Aemond was the one to tend to it. His bedside table is bare save a lamp and a dog-eared book without a dust cover. The title remains a mystery. There’s a matching table on the opposite side with an empty silver dish and a small lap.

Moving further into his room you stop in front of a large floor-length mirror, trimmed with gold, and spare a moment to shamelessly admire yourself. The Hamptons look good on you. From the afternoon spent in the warm summer sun, your skin already has a luminescent sun-kissed glow. You tilt your head, parting your lips slightly.

Should’ve brought your phone with you; a selfie in this mirror would be worth a thousand words. You don’t suppose anyone will be back for hours. You can come back later for a little photo shoot. Your mouth quirks into a small smile at the thought of Aemond scrolling through Instagram and seeing you in his room.

You know exactly how you’ll do it. On your knees, a hand toying with the strings of your bikini bottoms, plush thighs on full display. Your sheer cover-up dangling off of one of your shoulders revealing a delicious amount of skin your bikini top barely covers. Lips curved into a perfect pout.

You just need to find that necklace.

That would be the icing on the cake.

Peering into the attached bathroom you note all his hair and skincare products lined up in a neat row across the marble sink. You raise a brow at his perfectionism.

Anal prick.

You rummage through the drawers under the sink, most of them practically empty. A hair straightener, a hairbrush, a thin-toothed comb.

No necklace.

You growl in frustration slamming the drawer shut. Sitting back on your haunches you place a hand against your forehead. Maybe he didn’t even bring it, I mean, why would he?

You remember the look on his face, the stolen glances. That stupid fucking smirk. Your cheeks flush, warmth creeping down your neck.

He brought it. It’s here somewhere.

You tap your fingers against your knee, hand bouncing nervously. You need to keep looking. Rising from your spot on the floor you make your way back into the room, glancing around. Flinging open the closet doors you paw through suit jackets and trousers letting your hands dip into the pockets of each one. C’mon, it has to be here somewhere---

“What are you doing?” a cool, calm voice asks, sending a shiver down your spine like you’d been dosed in ice water.

Slowly, you turn, meeting the blue and purple eyes of Aemond Targaryen as he leans casually against the doorframe.

He’s not supposed to be here.

Yet, here he is. Dressed in gray slacks, and a black button-down pressed to perfection with not a wrinkle in sight. Green tie around his neck as though he’d just come from a meeting. He’s holding a legal pad in his left hand, a pen pinched between his thumb and forefinger. His silver hair pushed back out of his face, rounded glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. You roll your shoulders back and keep your chin up.

“Where is it?”

“Where’s what?” he asks, entering the room. He tosses the legal pad carelessly on the side table before reaching into his back pocket and removing his phone as well. Your eyes narrow as he rolls his sleeves up.

“You know what,” you tell him, tapping your foot against the floor.

Aemond releases a hum, still not answering. He lifts his glasses off of the bridge of his nose, letting them rest on top of his head.

“Where is it?” you repeat, becoming more impatient with each passing second.

Aemond doesn’t meet your gaze, instead, he takes a step forward. The bed is the only thing that separates you. He looks up at you then, violet and blue eyes staring into yours intently.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tells you, nonchalantly, “If you’ve misplaced something how is that my problem?”

“It is your problem,” you say through your teeth. Aemond brings his hands in front of his chest, the veins on the back of them prominent. You watch as he slowly removes a ring on his left hand, taking time to twist the silver band from his middle finger.

Your mouth goes dry as he repeats the movement, twisting the metal that rests on his ring finger. That ring he wears nearly every day, stamped with the Targaryen family crest. He resumes his movements, focusing on the ring that remains on his right hand. A small silver band around his thumb. When it's free, he holds his hand out across the bed.

An offering.

You’re not sure what compels you to reach forward, holding your palm open-faced under his. He uncurls his fingers, rings falling into your awaiting palm. He hasn’t touched you and yet your whole body feels flushed.

You close your fingers around the cold rings, pulling your hand away. Aemond jerks his chin, motioning toward the nightstand beside you. You turn, placing the rings haphazardly in the small empty silver dish. They clang loudly against it and Aemond stares at you disapprovingly.

“Are you going to give it back, or not?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest once more.

“Why are you here?” he asks, ignoring your question and walking to the edge of the bed.

“I get seasick,” you lie to him as you did to Jace.

Aemond merely chuckles, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He reaches to the top of his head, removing his glasses, and placing them on his dresser. A lock of silver hair falls in front of his eyes as he turns back to you, mirroring your pose.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe what you want,” you snap, “What are you doing here?”

“I had work to finish,” he says with a shrug. Aemond’s hands drop to his belt, and he begins to undo it. “So I decided to stay behind.”

The hairs on your arms stand up and heat rushes to your face, and the top of your chest. You suddenly become very aware of how trapped you are on this side of the room. You’d have to climb over the bed if you wanted to leave.

You glance at the door as Aemond pulls his belt free of the loops of his slacks. A sharp whine echoes in the room as the leather rubs against the fabric.

Your attention turns back on Aemond, you watch as he tosses the belt onto the bed. You swallow the lump beginning to form in your throat.

Aemond takes a slow step, rounding the corner of the bed. You don’t say anything as he walks closer, nor when he brings a large hand to rest against your outer thigh. He’s barely applying any pressure, you can just feel the heat of his large palm against you. Your lips part slightly at the sensation.

“What are you doing here?” he asks again, letting his fingers trail up your thigh, “Hmm?” His fingers curl under the strap of your bathing suit bottom, snapping it against your hip. You flinch slightly at the light sting.

You inhale a deep breath, looking up at the chiseled features of his face.

“I want my necklace back.”

The perfect pout of his lips curl at the edges, a satisfied smirk appearing.

“Well then you’re going to have to work for it,” he tells you, his voice rough and commanding.

To your despair, heat rushes to your core at the authoritative tone of his voice and the feeling of his hand still on your upper thigh. You hate admitting it, but you’d been thinking about that afternoon in the hotel ever since it had happened. Getting off to the memory of it, nearly every night.

“We’re not doing this again,” you tell him as his opposite hand finds your waist. He swipes his thumbs against your hip bones, squeezing into the soft flesh. He’s so close, your crossed forearms graze against the fabric of his button-down. You shake your head, “I hate you.”

Aemond tilts his head back, not releasing his grip on you. Your arms uncross on their own accord, and you bring your hands to his tie. Your fingers work the knot, loosening it and removing it from his neck. You toss the green fabric onto the bed, moving to the buttons of his shirt.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, fingers digging into you hard enough to leave bruises. He pulls you closer, his nose bumping against your cheek.

“I hate you,” you breathe, working through all the buttons. Aemond chuckles darkly as you tear open his shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest.

You drag your fingers down between his pectorals, tracing in between the muscles of his abdomen. They flex under your soft touch. Aemond releases your hips to shrug off his shirt, abandoning the material on the floor.

You watch it pool at his feet, before his hand finds the back of your neck, pulling you flush against him, capturing your lips in a punishing kiss. It’s brutal; all clashing teeth and tongues as he keeps one hand securely on the back of your neck, the other tearing at the thin material of your coverup until it falls to the floor.

His free hand drags down your side before settling on your ass; it’s so large he encompasses the cheek nearly entirely, squeezing the soft flesh harshly and dragging a gasp from your throat. He backs you up toward the bed, kissing you all the while. You can’t think when he kisses you, all you can focus on is the feeling of him. It’s nothing but hot, burning need pulsating through your veins.

Aemond pushes you, none too gently, onto the bed before climbing on top of you. His hands roam down your body, your back arching at his touch.

He leans back on his haunches, reaching for the belt. You can see evidence of his arousal straining against his slacks, his eyes hungrily raking over your scantily clad form as you gaze up at him through your lashes.

“Wrist up.”

You breathe heavily, before doing what he asks, placing both your arms above your head. Aemond loops the belt around your wrists, binding them to the metal rod of his headboard. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest, and the ache between your thighs grows. Aemond’s eyes flicker to your face as he tugs the bindings. The smirk that appears on his face says one thing.

You’re not going anywhere.

“You need me to stop,” he says, as he moves away from you, “You need to be untied. You want this to be over; you say keligon.”

“What’s that mean?” you ask, your voice sounding breathier and more desperate than you’d have liked it to.

“It’s High Valyrian,” he tells you, “You say that, I’ll untie you. I’ll stop.” Aemond returns to you, grasping your chin in his hand, “What do you say if you want me to stop?”

You stare into his eyes, surprised by his seriousness. “Keligon.”

“Good girl,” he says, lightly tapping your cheek with his fingers as he releases his hold.

Aemond reaches for his discarded necktie. He smoothes the material in his hands before bringing it to your face. Your eyes widen as you realize his intentions, but you make no move to stop him. You allow it.

You want it.

The tie sits perfectly against your eyes, blocking any semblance of light. All your other senses feel heightened, your skin feels electric. You can’t see him, can only feel the bed shifting from his weight as he moves above you, making sure it’s tied snuggly around your head. Suddenly, you feel his slender fingers, dragging down the strap of your bikini top, taking his sweet time before he reaches the knot that sits in the valley between your breasts.

“Cute suit,” he murmurs, fingers fiddling with the knot, “You bring this one just for me?”

You can feel the material give, your breasts releasing back to their natural state as the knot comes completely undone. Aemond drags his fingers over the material lazily exposing your tits to him. He hums appreciatively as the cool air makes your nipples pebble.

“I have a boyfriend,” you tell him, earning a chuckle.

“You do?” he murmurs, dragging his fingers down your sternum, over the sensitive skin of your stomach. You take your lower lip between your teeth, skin erupting in goosebumps. You already want to pull against the restraints, wriggle, and thrash away from his teasing hands.

“My poor nephew,” he muses, tugging at the straps of your bottoms, “He fuck you like I do?”

You haven’t slept with Jace. It’s not really part of your arrangement. Not that Aemond needs to know.

“You fuck Floris like you fuck me?” you challenge. Aemond’s hands pause their movements.

Just like earlier, a wave of jealousy rolls through you. Envy churns in your stomach, and you clench your jaw.

“Floris and I are colleagues,” Aemond says slowly. He sounds as though he’s choosing his words very carefully.

“You don’t have to baby me,” you lie, “I’m a big girl, I understand this world.”

Aemond is silent for a moment, and you wonder if he’ll push the subject more. He’s still for so long you nearly tap out, keligon on the tip of your tongue when suddenly he finishes removing your bathing suit bottoms. Completely naked before him, tied up like a summer holiday present, your body trembles with anticipation.

Stop being jealous, you tell yourself, feeling him move on top of you once more. It’s just sex. Fucking good sex. That’s all it has to be.

Aemond trails wet, hot kisses down your neck, his greedy hands digging into your thighs keeping you spread open so he can rest between them. He’s still wearing pants, you can feel the fabric against your thighs, and pressing against your bare pussy, the sensation driving you insane.

His mouth trails lower, settling on your right breast, his tongue circling your pebbled nipple. Your back arches off of the bed, hands pulling against your restraints. The leather tightens against your wrists, digging into them painfully.

Your lips part and a breathy moan escapes your lips as he sucks on your breast. Your legs wrap around his slender waist, desperately trying to get some friction to relieve the ache between your thighs. Your clit drags against the front of his slacks, grinding against his bulge sending sparks of pleasure dancing through your body. You’re nearly pulsating with need as he releases your tit with a wet pop, humming in satisfaction.

Aemond drags his lips through the valley of your breasts, before repeating his attentions. He moans-fucking moans---as he bites at your tender nipple, ripping a cry from deep in your chest.

“Look at you grinding against me,” he comments, as your hips buck upwards attempting to meet him, “That wet little pussy is making such a mess on me right now.”

Your face burns at his comment, but you can’t see what he means. You can only feel how desperately wet you are, the slickness coating your inner thighs. You thrash against your restraints and hear him click his tongue.

“Poor baby,” he says, with mock sympathy, sucking harshly against the side of your breast. He brings his free hand to play with your unattended nipple, tweaking it harshly.

You’re not sure if it’s the extra attention he’s giving your tits or the blindfold, but you can feel the tension in your gut growing tighter, heat building in your core. You bite your lip, whining desperately, back arching. Aemond lets out a breathless laugh, never stopping his ministrations with your nipple, capturing the other with his lips once more.

“Are you gonna cum?” he murmurs against your breast and you curse at the vibration it causes, “You better not….you hear me?” Aemond drags his lips over your breast, trailing them up your neck and just below your ear.

His hand leaves your opposite breast, finding its way under your head and tangling in your hair. He tugs the roots harshly, pinpricks of pain and pleasure trickling down your neck as you whimper. Aemond’s breath is hot against your ear as he speaks.

“You better not fucking cum, you hear me?” he growls, “Not until I tell you to. You can do that, can’t you?” His hand tightens in your hair.

“Yes,” you gasp, “Yes-fuck!”

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, rewarding you with a kiss, “Fuck, you have no idea how beautiful you look right now.”

Your cheeks flush, heat rushing to your face at his words. You twist against your restraints as he kisses down your torso once more.

“I should’ve been more specific,” he muses, kissing right below your belly button, “You’re not cumming unless I’m feeling generous enough to let you.” He kisses the top of your hip bone, squeezing the other side.

“Is that clear?”

Nothing feels clear, your whole body is on fire. The embers of your previous denied orgasm burn brightly in your throbbing center. Aemond moves lower, pressing your thighs back against the bed. You can feel his breath fanning on your soaked center.

A sharp slap stings against your dripping pussy and you cry out.

“You’re not nonverbal yet, are you?” he asks with mock concern, “I’ve barely scratched the surface.”

“No,” you tell him, “I mean, yes. Yes, I understand.”

“Good,” he says, pressing a kiss on top of your mound before dipping his tongue lower, spreading through your silky, wet folds.

Aemond moans at the taste, dipping lower and letting his tongue tease at the opening of your clenching pussy. His tongue just breaches the tight muscle of your entrance, nose brushing against your aching clit.

“Fuck,” you mewl as he presses his tongue further inside of you groaning as you clench around the warm, wet muscle.

He murmurs something, even though his face is buried in your pussy and you can’t even attempt to understand him. All you can do is tug against the restraints and moan pitifully as he has his way with you. Your legs tremble, thighs aching as he presses them back further into the mattress. He decides to release them, bringing his hands under your ass and lifting you slightly off the bed to press even further against your core.

Aemond removes his tongue to your displeasure, placing an open-mouthed, wet kiss on your pussy, dragging his lips and tongue to circle your clit with slow, calculated strokes.

“Seven--fuck!” you cry, legs shaking around him as he gently caresses your sensitive button, another chuckle leaving him at your desperation.

“Oh baby,” he says softly, pressing two long fingers inside of you, “You look so pathetic when you try not to cum.”

“Fu-uck,” you cry as he curls his fingers, beginning to fuck you with them. The wetness between your thighs, paired with the words he’s speaking to you make you flush with humiliation.

You’ve never been this wet before, not for anyone. You can hear it, hear him fucking you with his fingers. The gentle squishing sounds of your soaked pussy fill the room.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he comments, rubbing against your g-spot. Your spine arches, mouth dropping open, a wanton cry leaving your lips. “Oh, that’s such a good girl.”

“I think you can take one more, what do you think?” he asks, “C’mon, beg me. Use that big brain of yours, find the words.”

“Yes, yes please,” you beg, “Please give me another, I need another--” you’re cut off as Aemond slips a third digit into your pussy, fucking you with his fingers relentlessly.

“Please let me cum,” you beg, feeling him sit up as he continues to finger you.

“No,” he says sternly, placing a kiss on your stomach.

“Please, plea-”

“I said no.”

A frustrated, guttural moan leaves you and Aemond keeps going. You’re terrified for a moment, legs shaking uncontrollably, knowing you won’t be able to stop the wave of pleasure cresting inside of you. Luckily, by some saving grace, Aemond slows his movements, before carefully removing his soaked fingers from your fluttering cunt.

Disappointment courses through you at another ruined orgasm, followed by the relief of not going against Aemond’s wishes. You can feel tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, dampening the fabric of the makeshift blindfold.

You feel his soaked fingers press at your lips, parting them as they dip inside your hot mouth. You moan at the taste of your arousal, sucking the lengthy digits much like you did that first night inside the coat closet.

“Gods you’re so perfect like this,” Aemond croons, his opposite hand moving some sweat-coated hair from your damp forehead, “So eager to please.”

Defiance prickles under your skin and you fight the urge to bite down on his fingers; not hard, but enough. You feel Aemond stiffen as though he can read your thoughts, and feel his hand yank the blindfold from your eyes. You blink, adjusting to the light as he pulls his fingers from your mouth.

He reaches up, fiddling with the belt, releasing your wrists. Arms sore, you bring them to your chest, hugging them against your breasts. You can’t help but pout, and Aemond watches you carefully, eyes narrowing.

“Tell you what,” he muses, taking your wrists in his hands and massaging them gently, “I’m feeling rather generous today. Even though you broke into my room, and went snooping through my belongings.”

You watch him carefully, chest heaving. Aemond continues to massage your wrists, eyes glued to your breasts, watching them rise and fall with each breath you take. You swallow, eyes dropping to his erection that strains against his slacks. Your cheeks burn as you notice the wet patch on the front, no doubt caused by you grinding against him.

“I’ll give you the necklace,” he says, letting go of your wrists and curling his hands around the meat of your upper thighs, “Or I’ll let you cum. Your choice.”

You clench at his words, clit throbbing desperately between your legs. You want to cum so badly that it's nearly painful. You whine pitifully as he squeezes your thighs.

“I’ll let you think about it,” he assures you, that stupid smirk reappearing on his face, “On your hands and knees, get that pretty pussy in the air.”

Aemond releases you sliding off the bed and undoing his trousers. Shaking, you turn over, propping yourself on your hands and knees. You feel Aemond’s hands once more as he maneuvers you on the bed, fisting your hair and yanking your head up.

Your eyes meet your reflection in the grand mirror, Aemond naked behind you, his well-endowed cock fully hard and weeping. He brings his lips to your ear.

“I want you to watch,” he whispers, releasing his grip on your hair.

He moves instead to spread your ass cheek, opening you wide for him. You feel his cock press against you, the fat head sliding through your soaked folds, dragging it teasingly from your center to your clit.

“Aemond,” you whimper, “Please--”

Slowly he sinks into your wet heat; the girth of him stretching you out deliciously. Your whole body trembles, your head falling forward as he bottoms out; your walls pulsating around him. Aemond runs his hands over the swell of your ass, down your sides before taking both wrists in his large hands and pulling you backward. The force drags your head up, meeting his eyes in the mirror once more.

“I told….you….to….watch,” he says, punctuating each word with a hard slap of his hips against your ass; cock sliding easily in and out of your soaked pussy.

Small mewls leave your lips as he continues to hold you, never losing the rhythm of the brutal pace he’s set.

“Why’d you want that horrid thing back anyway?” Aemond asks, sounding displeased, “I gave you a necklace the last time we saw each other.”

Your eyes are wide, tears threatening to spill over from the pleasurable current roaring in your belly. Aemond smirks at your lack of response, releasing your arms. They fall limply to the bed, and you force your shaky forearms to keep yourself propped up.

“Don’t you remember?” he asks, fingers digging into your thighs, “You ungrateful little slut.”

You do remember, how could you possibly forget? You’d had to take another shower to remove his warm, sticky spend from your neck and chest.

“Perhaps you’d like a new one,” Aemond muses, leaning on top of you, and wrapping his hands around your neck.

Not one, but both of them rest comfortably around your throat, flexing along the sides. His cock continues to slide effortlessly in and out of your tight, wet heat; cockhead rubbing incessantly against your sensitive walls and bullying your sweet spot.

You try to say his name, try to find any words, but they come out a garbled, breathless moan.

“Do you like it?” Aemond asks, flexing his hands against your throat, “Don’t you look so pretty?”

His hands---gods his hands---look fucking perfect around your neck, as tears spill freely down your cheeks. His veins are prominent on the back of his hands, even more so when he flexes them, slightly cutting off your air supply. You’re too light-headed and cock drunk to answer him with anything other than a wanton, breathy moan.

“Thank me,” he murmurs, rutting against you. The coil in your gut winds tighter and tighter.

“Wha--” you manage, mind clouded by lust.

“Thank me for your gift,” he says, flexing his fingers for emphasis. He tightens his grip momentarily, before releasing some pressure, allowing you the opportunity to answer him.

Aemond lifts a brow expectantly, slowly rolling his hips against you.

“Thank you,” you gasp, “Thank you, Aemond.”

Aemond hums appreciatively, fucking you with renewed enthusiasm. You close your eyes, squeezing them shut, trying to stop the roaring of blood rushing in your ears, your orgasm speeding toward you at full force.

“You’re close aren’t you?” he grunts, “What’ll it be, baby?”

“Please, please I wanna cum,” you whine, “Please let me cum, fu-uck!”

Aemond pulls you up flush against his chest as soon as you say the words, fucking up into you. He keeps one hand on your throat, the other dipping between your legs to rub circles around your clit.

“That’s it, fucking cum all over my cock,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “That’s a good little slut, there you go.”

Your body tense, legs shuddering as you’re thrown into your release, the coil in your gut snapping as you clench around his thick cock. You’re crying from the intensity, a desperate sob escaping you at the prolonged release. As your high subsides, Aemond releases you, turning you on your back.

Your whole body tingles as he climbs on top of you, sliding back into your fluttering pussy in one smooth motion. You gasp as his cock rubs against your g-spot, as he lazily begins thrusting into you once more.

“Aem-mond,” you moan, as he slings one leg over his shoulder, spreading you wider.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he scolds, smirking as he slings your other leg over his shoulder, making himself a necklace of his own, “You wanted to cum so bad, you can do it again, can’t you?”

Your mouth is open in a silent scream, watery eyes looking up at him, drinking in the satisfied smirk he wears. Your whole body tenses, the beginning of another orgasm building in your abdomen.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he taunts, “C’mon don’t stop now. You’ve been such a good little slut for me, you deserve it.”

“Please, please-”

“Yes you do,” he croons, “There you go. I feel this little pussy tightening around me. Squeezing me so good.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders, a strangled cry leaving your lips as his thumb brushes against your swollen clit, sending you over the edge once more. Aemond doesn’t slow his hips, he keeps fucking you into the mattress as you’re pretzled over him.

“That’s a good girl,” he sing-songs, balls slapping against your ass as he increases the pace of his thrusts, “Don’t stop now, it feels so good doesn’t it?”

A sharp cry leaves your lips and you force yourself to nod, unable to formulate words in your blissed-out state. Euphoria pulses through your veins and floods your body with warmth. It’s like you’re burning with pleasure, your entire being aflame.

“I can’t,” you moan, though your body betrays you. You can feel the tightening sensation in your gut, the tingling feeling of another orgasm building.

“Yes you can,” Aemond insists, “C’mon you wanted it so bad, you greedy little thing. Take it, c’mon fucking take it.”

Your thighs shake around his neck, and Aemond’s jaw slacks as you clench around him.

“Yes, oh fu-uck, yes!,” you whimper, and Aemond’s cock twitches inside you as you’re thrown over the edge once more making your vision go white.

Aemond thrusts a few more times before you feel his cock pulsate, and warmth blooms deep in your abdomen. He lets out a grunt as he finishes, followed by an elongated moan that sends a shiver down your spine right down to your core. His head falls against your shoulder, peppering the damp flesh with soft kisses.

He stays like that for a moment, before moving off of you.

“Don’t move,” he says, walking toward the bathroom.

You couldn’t if you wanted to. You hear the water run and watch as Aemond returns with a damp washcloth. His cock sways as he walks toward you, glistening with your release. Gently, he cleans you up, taking care to avoid your abused clit.

After several moments, you find your bearings. Reality hits you, and you grab your swimsuit, throwing it back on hastily.

“This can’t happen again,” you insist, though your trembling legs betray you, “Not with everyone here-”

“You’re not really in a position to make demands,” Aemond says, matter-of-factly.

“Excuse me?”

“I like this arrangement,” he tells you, “Both you and I are in relationships that benefit the family. That’s fine, dutiful even.” Aemond brushes a lock of hair from your face, letting his hand rest on your cheek, “That doesn’t mean we need to deny ourselves.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You can barely think with his hands on you. You bring your hand up quickly, slapping him away. Aemond gives nothing away; no flash of hurt or rejection is evident on his chiseled face.

“I’m not denying anything,” you tell him, the lie bitter-tasting.

Aemond only stares those blue and violet eyes of his boring into yours. His gaze reignites the fire in your belly, the primal want aching deep in your bones.

Motherfucker.

You hate him.

Yet you want him all the same.

“I don’t believe you,” he says softly.

“Believe what you want,” you tell him, “Jace is good for me. He’s a good person.”

“Ah yes, Jacaerys Velaryon. Your conversations must be thrilling,” he says, stepping closer to you, “I know you. Whether you like it or not, whether you admit it or not. I know what makes your brain tick inside that pretty little head of yours. You may fool the press, hells you may fool the rest of the family; but you can’t fool me.”

You don’t answer him. Ignoring the tight feeling in your chest you simply grab your cover-up and throw it around your shoulders leaving his room.

note: as always, likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated, but never expected! if you'd like to be notified when I post please follow and turn on notifications for @sapphire-writes-updates in lieu of a taglist!

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boldlyvoid · 1 year

Note

I’m kinda in the middle of writing a little fic too but inspiration sucks

okay but anyway how about a little fic where spencer and reader are having just a quiet evening they made a nice dinner together and are just sitting on opposite ends of the couch doing their own thing maybe reader is crocheting (wink wink) and spencer is reading/doing Spencer-y things and they just find peace and comforting in this type of parallel play/ quality time together

i know it sounds boring but it sounds peaceful to me to have that kind of security and love that doesn’t need any words. and I think Spencer would love that too

Parallel Play

yes of course bestie!! i love this idea thank you <3

wc: 883

Spencer Reid is secretly a quiet man.

At work, he could go on a rant or a ramble at the drop of a hat. He knows so much inside that beautiful brain of his that once he starts going on a topic, he wants to talk until he’s explained everything. Honestly, he could do a 15-hour Ted Talk if you let him.

But at home… at home he’s quiet. They both are.

Sat on opposite sides of the couch, Spencer has his feet up on the coffee table, he’s leaning back against the cushions with his Nintendo Switch in his hands resting on his chest, pretty close to his face as he works on a tough level of the newest Zelda game. He grew up never having any video games, so now, in his 40’s he’s finally getting the chance to experience the wonderful worlds that exist in the palm of his hands. His girlfriend, however, has her feet in his lap, she’s extended across most of the couch with her back against the armrest as she crochets a new pattern she’s been wanting to make. Even their cat has joined them, laying between her legs and the back of the couch, she’s all stretched out and sleeping away with both of her favourite humans at home.

They’re so happy like this. Just quietly enjoying their time off while still together, still touching, they have a comfort show on for background noise and its perfect.

She looks up from her project every once and a while, either because Spencer has mumbled something at his game or the current episode they have on is getting interesting. And each time she does look up, she finds herself staring at Spencer with a little smile. He’s just so cute like this. Totally enthralled in his game, his brows furrowed as he concentrates and his jaw a little clenched when it gets hard.

When he finishes his level, or when he just pauses to have a breather, he reaches down to her feet that are resting in his lap and he grips her ankle. He runs his hand up and down her shin a few times, soothing himself and her in the process. He takes a few sips of water, he watches a couple minutes of the show and then he goes right back to his game. Still completely silent. Still completely content.

By the time she’s done her crochet project, it’s a little after midnight and she’s tired. “Spence,” she whispers to him.

He just hums, his brows go up to show he’s listening but his attention is still on his game.

“You wanna go to bed soon?”

He nods, “Let me…. Finish… this,” he says while mashing the buttons, clearly working on something. “And then we can.”

“Okay,” she agrees. She moves her feet off his legs carefully so as to not scare the cat, but she wakes up anyway. She picks her up and gives her a couple pets as she moves in closer to Spencer’s side.

“You okay if I watch?”

He nods again, she only asked because sometimes the pressure of someone watching him play makes him do worse. But this time he’s fine with it. She leans her head on his shoulder and cuddles into his side to watch him play for the last few minutes of their quiet time together.

She watches without a clue as to what is going on, he defeats a boss, he wins the level and he lets out a deep sigh as he clicks the game off and sets it down in his lap. He lifts his arm so he can wrap it around her, letting her snuggle in even closer to his chest and he kisses the top of her head a few times. “Tired?” He asks with a whisper.

“Yeah,” she whispers back.

“Let's go to bed,” he encourages, patting her arm gently.

She gets up with the cat still in her arms, Spencer turns off the TV and all the lights and meets her in the bedroom. She let the cat down on the bed and she immediately curls up into a ball at the foot of the bed, clearly also ready for a long night's rest. They change together, they brush their teeth together and then they slip under the covers together, too.

The lights go off, they lay turn to face each other, each snuggled into their pillows, and they sigh almost at the same time. It hasn’t been a long day, but they’re still both exhausted.

“I love you,” he says into the darkness.

“I love you,” she replies with a smile. She leans in just a little closer and kisses him, once, twice and a third time for good measure. “I had fun today.”

“Me too… we should do this more often.”

“We really should.”

Then they go quiet again. She rolls over to her other side, letting him spoon into her the way he always does at night. He wraps his arm around her middle, his hand resting on her stomach, he kisses her shoulder blade re situates his head on the pillow. “Goodnight, love.”

“Night, Spence.”

And that’s how they fall asleep. Quietly, in each other's arms, perfectly content with the little life that they lead.

#Spencer reid #Spencer reid smut #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid self insert #Spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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sugawhaaa · 4 months

Text

BEOMGYU X READER

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆Late night ride☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Warnings::None (?)

Genre::idol au, slow burn, soft

Pairings:: beomgyu x fem!idol!reader

Synopsis:: After hosting as a MC for sbs you and your members decide its best for them to leave early and you'll catch up with them later. After a mis calculation you end up having to ride with the txt members

A/N:: I am so happy to finally be finished writing this first chapter. I really hope it does well!!

Character notes:: your group name is "L.I.A" and there are five members who will all be introduced in this chapter

This is set in temptation era which will be relevant to the story. (It doesn't matter too much which era you think it's in after this chapter)

"That was Y/N and Yeonjun! Thanks for watching Music Bank!" You said with a wave and a smile towards the camera. Your MC partner did pretty much the same. You sighed when the camera turned off and fanned yourself with your card of notes. You hopped off the platform and went to meet up with your group members in the dressing room. You went down the long hallway of the SBS building taking off some of your jewelry.

You finally found your group's room. A L.I.A poster on the door. You rushed into the room. "Sorry, I'm late, there were some complications," you said as you sat down on one of the make up chairs.

"Y/N?" One of the staff members said softly.

"Yeah?" You replied and looked up at her.

"This isn't your makeup station, yours is over here," she smiled politely and gestured her hand to your proper seat.

"Ah! Sorry," you stood up and moved over to the other seat. You sighed as a staff member undid your hair, brushing out all the tangles from the unique braids and twists.

"You're so scatterbrained recently," Hanna sighed as she played on her phone. "Maybe you need some R and R," she smiled at you. Hanna is the third oldest member and she's very considerate and laid back. She is a hard worker, always dancing in the practice rooms but she knows when it's time to take a break.

"Maybe this weekend we could go out to a spa, go relax in a hot tub or something," Areum proposed with a smile. She looked exhausted on the inside, once all her makeup was off she had circles under her eyes and she looked pale. She got hardly any sleep last night because she was worried about today. Comeback showcase day.

"Yeah, that sounds nice!" Everyone agreed with bubbling energy except the maknae.

"Well I can't make it," mi cha said as she laid on the white couch with her legs up on the armrest. Her Nintendo Switch glued to her face. "I'm going out with won young, Rei, and yujin," Mi Cha said as she clicked the buttons on her Switch.

"Says who?!" Yina put her hands on her hips as she stood over top of Mi Cha. Yina was always the one to get Mi Cha into line. She makes sure that the group sticks together and that everyone agrees on things. Mi Cha on the other hand would rather die than work together.

"It's fine," Areum the Unnie chimed in. "Just make sure you aren't seen by fans and stay safe," Areum sighed before turning her phone off and standing up. She walked over to you and put her hand on your shoulder. "If it's okay with you me and the members would like to leave soon, it's very late and all of our things are packed up. If it's okay with you we'll be leaving," she said tiredly.

"No problem," you smiled with a thumbs up.

"Some of the staff will be staying behind packing up makeup and things so you can ride with them alright?" Areum explained with a smile as the other girls grabbed their purses and hats to leave.

"Okay, see you guys at the dorm," you waved to the members and they all smiled while leaving. Except for Mi Cha, she stayed glued to her phone. The door shut behind them and you finished getting undressed and ready to go home. You wore comfortable sweatpants and a cropped shirt. Not too short but just enough to balance out the ratio of length in the outfit. To top it all off you wore a Loverboy hat.

It had been only about 10 minutes since the members left 15 minutes at most. You went to the front of the building to find the van for you. You saw some of your staff packing things into this white van so you went up to them. When you approached the door the window rolled down to reveal Mi Cha.

"Hey girlie~ I got caught up in talking with nmixx so I took this van! There's another one showing up to take you so you can catch that one alright~" she said before snapping her gum in your face as her phone lit up her face. You looked at her unamused.

"You sure you can't just push over a little?" You crossed your arms as you saw the space in-between her and the staff next to her. She glanced over.

"The staff have to put more things there," she explained before setting her purse there. "You understand. Be a good Unnie and wait would ya," she smiled cheekily before rolling the window up. You went back inside and rubbed your arms.

"Damn it's cold out there..." you mumbled to yourself as you waited before the doors. You watched for a van to pull up but none of them belonged to you or your staff. Then you got a call from Areum. You picked up the phone and just as you were about to say something into the speaker Areum spoke first.

"Where are you!? Mi Cha said you were gonna be there shortly after you!" You chuckled awkwardly.

"Well..." you explained the situation and after Areum dragged Mi Cha by her Ear.

"You left her!?" Areum yelled away from the mic but you could still hear her loud and clear. After a long and loud conversation you found out you'd have to find another way home. That was until you felt a tap on your shoulder. Your co-host Yeonjun.

"Couldn't help but overhear, you can ride with me and my members," he smiled as he gestured behind him. When you gazed behind him you saw his members arguing while one of them was on the verge of falling asleep. You had seen all of them around before due to being in the same company as them but the member who looked like he was about to sleep right then and there was extra familiar. Oh, of course, soobin. He's very popular globally.

"Oh that'd be great thank you!" You said as a wave of relief washed over you.

"Don't thank me yet, you'll have to squeeze in with everyone," he chuckled and gestured to his members to come over. Two of them looked like they were about to strangle each other. Black and brown-haired. The one with pink hair walked behind the other two and next to Soobin. He had one earbud in and a hoodie. Soobins blonde hair was messy and poofy, All in his eyes. Yeonjun chatted to them about the situation and all the members smiled saying "It's no problem," and they'd be "glad to help out," at this point, you were too tired to care about who it was that sits next to you or how long it'd take to get home or even how loud they'd be. All you knew was that you didn't want to stay at the SBS building all night by yourself.

There was some idle chit-chat between the members before their van finally pulled up. You waited for the members to go in first so you could pick your seat when they were all situated first. You were silently hinted to sit in the middle row, beside Taehyun and Beomgyu. Pink-haired guy and brown-haired. You had to walk in front of Beomgyu to get to the seat in the middle…awkward. You put your foot up to step into the van and Beomgyu extend his hand to help you up.

You thanked him softly and sat next to him, situating your purse on your lap. You buckled your seat and waited. Awkwardly. You kept your body close to itself trying not to touch your shoulders or legs with the other members but it was basically impossible to do so. At first, the members were talkative but after a while, they put on their headphones or earbuds and just relaxed on the way home. You did the same, slowly dozing off. The street lights buzzed by through the window onto your legs and you watched the lights with tired eyes. You had to fight to keep them open. Eventually you gave up and shut your eyes. Sitting there with your head hanging.

You weren't asleep but your eyes were shut and your body was pretty much lifeless. You felt a hand gently caress your head and set your head on his shoulder. It relieved the ache in your neck that you were too tired to fix earlier. Then your mind went foggy and you had finally fallen asleep.

When you woke up the van was at a halt and the members were getting out of the van. You rubbed your eyes and tried adjusting to the lights from the inside of the van. Beomgyu smiled at you as you looked up at him, your cheeks pink. It was Beomgyu who set you on his shoulder to sleep. He stepped out of the van and helped you out. Not a word had been said between the two of you yet...there was such a bond already forming.

You got out of the van and stretched. "Thank you guys again, so much, for taking me with you. I don't know what I would've done without your help," you smiled at soobin and yeonjun.

"Of course, no problem at all," Yeonjun smiled with a thumbs up. Soobin still looked like he was about to collapse. Taehyun came up to you with a little suitcase behind him. He put his hand on your shoulder.

"Sorry if we woke you up throughout the drive," he smiled wide with his Boba eyes.

"I didn't wake up at all. I was outcold," you sighed with a shrug. Taehyun looked amazed.

"Wow you must be a deep sleeper," he put his hand on his hip, his cardigan moving slightly.

"Come to think of it Beomgyu kinda has that aura about him. When he's not being a total fool and hooligan he's quite comforting. Many people tend to fall asleep around him," Yeonjun says as he puts his finger to his chin. Beomgyu came up behind him with a smile. "Unfortunately me too," Yeonjun sighed and Beomgyus's smile faded. He jokingly pretended to strangle him before laughing.

After a little laugh, it finally struck you. Despite both of you being under Hbye, it didn't mean that your dorms were side by side. The dorms are split up by gender. Male on one side of the building and female on the other side. That was to ensure there was no conflict or rumors between idols. TXT was obviously dropped off by their dorms which meant you had to walk all the way around the building, in the freezing cold, by yourself at a quarter to midnight…not scary at all. You sighed.

"I guess it's time for me to uh…walk back," you said as you rubbed your bare stomach.

"What do you mean walk back?" Taehyun asked.

"Well my dorms are on the complete other side of the building so I gotta walk around it," you explained as you used your index and middle finger to create two legs to demonstrate what you had to do.

"That doesn't seem very safe," Beomgyu said, which was what everyone was thinking.

"Well…there's not much I can do about it," you shrugged.

"C'mon I'll walk with you," beomgyu said with a playful shrug.

"O-Oh, okay if you're sure," you smiled. Butterflies flutter in your stomach. Beomgyu followed you and waved to the members. You thanked them all again before walking off.

"If you want you can have my jacket," beomgyu smiles as he looks down at you.

"Yeah, thank you," you grin as he takes off his jacket. The scent of his fills your lungs. It was such a complicated scent. It felt like…comfort. Like a warm towel but how it smells. You zipped up the jacket and bowed to him in thanks. Then the air got painfully quiet.

To be continued...

#txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt hard hours #txt beomgyu #txt #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu #beomgyu smut #beomgyu #chapter 1

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hornychristianprincess · 11 hours

Text

wasted (leehan x fem reader) FINAL

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.

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.

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.”

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

#leehan #boynextdoor #leehan smut #boynextdoor smut #leehan x reader #leehan fluff #leehan angst #boynextdoor fics #hornychristianprincess #donghyun boynextdoor #boy next door smut #donghyun smut #donghyun boy next door smut #kpop smut #kpop angst #kpop fluff

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serotonins-stuff · 1 year

Text

BROKEN SWITCH - K. KOZUME

♡︎ Includes: Kenma Kozume

♡︎ Sypnosis: You accidently break your boyfrinds nintendo switch right before he gets home from work.

♡︎ Warnings : Reader accidently hurts fingers while undoing screws, little bit of angst, FLUFF!!!

♡︎Kenma is a bit ooc in this!!

Reader and Kenma are aged up and living in their own apartment.

Crap.

You sat on the kitchen floor, panicking while water seeped out of Kenmas Nintendo switch.

Before this, you had been getting ready for a bath, unaware that your boyfriend's switch was in the pocket of his hoodie that you were wearing.

All you saw was his black very expensive switch laying at the bottom of the bathtub and you lost your train of thought.

You shook the device in hopes to rid of some water, knowing it won't be enough anyway.

Kenma was due to get home any second now and if you were being honest you were as scared as hell. Not only because you wouldn't know how he'd react -but because you knew how seriously he'd take his gaming career. You would feel guilty about him losing all his progress simply because you were being clumsy.

What if you've ruined some very Important information that can't be brought back?

You panicked more while undoing the screws on the switch. You dried it out whatever you could with a paper towel, but it was still no good. No matter how many times you pressed the on button, it just wouldn't switch on. You even put it in rice for a bit but there was no luck.

Not only were you freaking out but now your fingers had cuts all over them from nervously handling the screws and screwdriver.

"Maybe a hairdryer will do the trick-

the sound of keys fiddling with the front door ran your blood cold. You were frozen in place, your boyfriend's footsteps sounding in the house.

"I'm home" he spoke loudly, expecting you to appear from somewhere to give him your usual greeting. Instead he was met with silence, followed by some rustling in the kitchen.

"Love?" he called out with a raised brow, and before he started looking for you, you hid the console behind your back. Jumping up from your position on the floor.

"Hey Ken" you smiled suspiciously, not moving from your position.

He raised a brow skeptically, obviously aware that something was going on. "No hug today?"

"My hands are dirty from gardening" you lied , moving backwards as he inched closer.

You didn't want to turn around and walk normally or else he would see what you were trying to hide, but you couldn't look back to see where you were going either, or else he'd sneak up on you. You trusted the little luck you had and just hoped that you would not fall.

Luck was not on your side when you tripped on the carpet and started flastartedone hand in hopes of not falling on the floor. You must have looked silly to hide this thing, but you had to at least try to fix it before he could be disappointed. Your boyfriend caught you just in time to give you a soft landing on the fluffy carpet. He sat right in front of you, legs crossed while he stared at you with an amused expression.

"You're a bad liar" he stated while holding the hand that had not even a spec of dust on it.

He figured you out too quickly.

He was not annoyed with you in the slightest, he thought you looked very cute trying to hide something from him with your awful deception skills. The last time you showed this type of behavior was back in high school when you accidentally dropped his phone at Kuroos birthday party-

That's when it clicked "Did you break something?" he gazed into your eyes with a steady tone. When you avoided his eyes and started shuffling uncomfortably he realized he was right. He wasn't going to ask you what is it that you broke, he decided to just give you time while caressing small circles on your palm. If you were going to tell him about it he did not want to push you.

Or maybe he's wrong and you didn't break anything. Could you be trying to tell him bad news?

After a few minutes of silence and Kenma caressing you, the panging of your heart subsided and you glimpsed at his delicate face.

The delicate face that has shown you nothing but love for the past few months of your relationship. The delicate face that kisses you to sleep after playing video games with him.

The delicate face that is patient with you even when you're being difficult.

He might have not vocalized it but he looked like a very impatient puppy right now-making you you want to burst into giggles.

"Promise you won't get mad at me?" You tightened the hold on your intertwined hands, a small smile appearing on your face.

"I would never"

You extended the hand you hid behind your back, displaying the worn-out console "It fell out of your pocket when I was running a bath......"

Kenma gradually but dramatically clutched a hand over his heart, slowly slumping backward and sticking his tongue out to play dead.

Before you got to know Kenma-you would've sworn he'd just be a mean, introverted gamer but he was so much more than that. He makes jokes and expresses a lot more emotion and admiration than his looks portray.

He earned a giggle from you, and you were now relieved at the fact that he wasn't angry with you at all. You could also see him sigh in relief- possibly from the fact that he was expecting you to tell him something way worse.

"So you're not angry with me?"

He jerked upright from his position on the floor, swiftly tugging you flush against him. You were now sitting on his lap as he hugged you close, his face in the crook of your neck.

"I thought you were going to tell me something bad" he caressed your back "You had me scared for a sec"

From the silence and distance you were showing him earlier, he thought he wasn't going to get you to open up.

"So you aren't angry with me?" you snuggled up closer to him, enjoying his warmth.

"Not even a little bit"

You huffed another breath of relief, and he picked up the switch."This is nothing ok?"

You nodded.

"I dont want you stressing over things I can easily replace" he said. "I have a spare one which I bought a while ago in case this one broke"

Of course he has a spare.

"What about all the saved progress in your video games?" you asked attempting not to seem so anxious anymore but the shake in your voice failed you.

"I can just transfer it"

"Can I help?"

He chuckled at your eagerness. How was he supposed to say no to such a cute face? But he had to get you in peak condition first.

"Let's get your fingers bandaged up, and I'll warm up the bath again ok?"

"Ok " you answered and he planted a lengthy kiss on your forehead.

"Love you baby"

"I love you Ken"

____________

The end~

Requests are open!!!!

#anime and manga #fypage #imagine #haikyuu #kozume kenma #kenma #kodzuken #nintendo #nekoma high #nekoma x reader #puddinghead #kenma fluff #kenma x reader #kenma x y/n #oneshot #angst

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ghostgirl101 · 2 years

Note

Yellow! Loved your BEN Drowned Dating HCs, they made my heart skip a few beats. Pardon me if this isn't allowed, but could I request some sort of BEN "aftermath" scenario with a reader who's been distancing herself from electricity in order to escape BEN? (A tad bit like Netflix's horror movie Umma if you've seen it) Then one day, electricity pops back intro her life, hauling a BEN along with it who's not about to let you repeat the same mistake without knowing the consequences.

Condolences if that isn't allowed. If not, Ticci Toby Dating HCs instead?

BEN Drowned; You Can't Run

|| Word Count: 2.2K || Angst → Comfort → Fluff ||

A/N: Can do, I've been wanting to write for BEN again, though this did take me a while 🙃 and I'll add Toby headcanons to my list. I've been thinking about some stuff for Jeff The Killer too? I mean, if you want 😎

A releasing click sounds as you pull the final plug out of the socket, flipping off the switches on the wall, the little red strips hidden as they're pushed down. Your hands are trembling, and you stay where you're standing for a few long moments, your uneven breathing all you can hear.

There. It's done. It's gone. Breathe.

Your home is stripped of its electronics, the TV screen dead, your laptop and phones' batteries lying beside them. Even some of the lights are off, every mains switch is turned off, red strips hidden from sight. This was the last resort, and you know it could work if you leave everything off for a while. BEN can't get to you without electricity to power your gadgets, practically all of which have been infected by his presence. He was everywhere, but like this, he can't get to you. You're okay.

It wasn't that BEN had ever tried to harm you, though you knew he could if he tried. The whole thing was just so unsettling and confusing, it kept you up at night. Your life went from normal, to a glitchy, disturbing version of Majora's Mask you'd found at a garage sale, from an old neighbour who was moving out garage sale. His haunting eyes pierced through you every time the Nintendo 64 powered on, empty, like the elegy should be, but very much alive.

He liked playing with you, teasing that was almost taunts if it wasn't for the oddly suggestive nicknames and phrases sneaked into each jumpscare and wrong moment of the game. At one point, you were so freaked out by the boy in the game that you threatened to destroy the cartridge, to anything that could hear you, the fireplace on and humming with burning energy as you readied yourself to take the game out and toss it into the flames.

That was when the haunting, materialized form of BEN Drowned had snapped to life and simply pushed itself out of the TV connected to the Nintendo. Those cold, ghostly pale hands had grabbed your wrists tightly, though not so tight as to hurt, and the same intense eyes from the elegy bore into you, masking any emotion as you dared not to struggle in the being's hands.

"You can't run."

No, you couldn't. What with BEN loose from the game and with free access to anything powered by electricity, you didn't have much choice but to let him invade your life. You kept reminding yourself of the questionable fact that BEN didn't seem to have any intention to hurt you, physically or mentally. He just showed up when he pleased, which was quite often, and watched as you worked, deleting a sentence or two just to get on your nerves, or played as a supposed robot on online games, the screen glitching with his presence every thirty seconds. You'd almost, almost gotten used to it.

It was when you were reminded of exactly who BEN Drowned was and what he could do that you panicked, hence where you are now. Even though at this early-ish point in your time together, most about him remains a mystery to you, you always knew just how deadly his antics could be. He tears people apart by driving them paranoid and crazed by what they see and experience, until they lose all sense of reality, most even ending themselves before BEN does.

Some girl from your class had started mocking you on a group chat, and you knew that as soon as you'd opened it, BEN had most likely read it before you did. Because, just minutes after, her account had updated with several posts that weren't all that wholesome at all, unflattering, candid shots of things no one should share on the internet up for all to see. Then the account was closed, and that was that.

She didn't show up to class the next day. BEN showed you exactly why.

"She shouldn't have done that."

All the blood, all the fear, the abnormality of it all, really got to you. It was one thing having a really odd kind of friend that seemed to just be overly protective, but this was too much. He had the strength to do the same to you. What if you said something accidentally that set him off? What if he got bored of you? How much more stable and normal could your life be if he moved on?

And the only way for that to happen is for him to not have any way to get to you. He has no proper reason to stick around, none that you can figure out, since you aren't one of his victims. What are you, then? Someone that interests him? He won't be mad for long, will he? He'll get bored.

Yes. That's it. He'll get bored. Of course he will.

The tense silence that fills your house when everything's unplugged makes you stay standing still for a long minute, double-checking everything's cut from power. You can make this work, if that's what it takes.

A day went past. Then another. And, all at once, after a boring day in class, your friend approaches you with a bewildered look.

"I did what you asked. Bit weird."

"What?"

"Why'd you unplug everything in your house? Some competition? Look, I managed to swing by yours and find the spare key under the mat to turn your stuff back on. I guess you're gonna need it like that if your parents are visiting. Don't want them to see you living in the stone age, I guess. Oh, and you owe me, bestie."

"Wait, wait," your voice heightened in dread, "I never asked you that. My- my parents aren't coming over! What are you-"

BEN.

Crap.

"What're you talking about? Are you messing with me? I got your text this morning, and since you work through lunch and I don't, it was easier for me to just run in. Look, no biggie, alright? Why do you look so worried? I didn't rob you."

"I- I know," you breathe shakily, forcing as genuine a smile as you can muster on your face, knowing that it would be more than unfair to expose them to BEN too. "Thank you."

"Sure."

Where do you go? Back home, where he's waiting for you? What'll he do? Most likely kill you. If you weren't his victim before, you must be now. Or maybe you can stay with a friend for... for what? Forever?

You can't run.

Every step you take that leads back to your home seems heavier and heavier, and although from the outside, the house looks perfectly normal and quiet, you know there's a fatal storm coming. All you can do now is face it and try to reason with it.

You unlock the door slowly, stepping tentatively inside and closing the door, leaving it unlocked in case you need to make a break for it, in the rare event that you get the chance to. And, as your friend confirmed, there's everything back in, ready for the counter to reset.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you feel eyes all around you, and solid static coating the atmosphere, buzzing coming from every screen and making the light twitch when you turn it on. You take one step into the living room before the colour drains from your face, fear rushing over all other thoughts as a bloody spark blinds you momentarily, before revealing the boy. You squeak as freezing hands clamp onto your arms tightly, pressing you back against the wall.

You're forced to look into his eyes, his crimson stare blazing amongst the dark, hollow space around his pupils. They're bleeding, the deep red dribbling down his pale cheeks, his usual amused, smug smirk replaced with something much more sinister. He's scowling in untamed fury, and you can't make yourself take a step back, frozen stiff to the spot. The lights are practically sparking from how much they're flashing with his wild anger, and you can't do a thing about it, except look straight back at him helplessly.

"You shouldn't have done that."

Your mouth's agape, scarcely blinking in dread of what BEN might do, everything you've been scared of just leading to this moment. He speaks with a snarl, and you flinch, trying to make yourself say something to diffuse the situation, even by a little.

"I know," is what you manage to whisper brokenly.

"Are you stupid?! Bored and didn't want me anymore? Found someone better? Shutting me out's the safest way, is that it?!"

You jump as a lightbulb from nearby smashes by the force of BEN's anger, glass spraying over the floor as the brightness winks out.

"Please, BEN-"

"No! I gave you one last chance, remember? You can't play with me anymore. It- it's not fair!"

He's not making any sense. Playing with him? You catch a fleeting moment to study his dark expression, and you can practically see the cracks of genuine vulnerability seeping through his dangerous fury. The lights have stopped flashing as violently as they were a minute ago, and so you take the chance to ask the inevitable.

"BEN... why do you care so much?"

He hangs onto you for a while longer, obviously processing the question as his grip grows looser, clenched jaw relaxing slightly. It doesn't seem to be out of defeat, though, but out of tiredness, BEN's piercing gaze weakening but never leaving your face, his scowl dropping into a frown. He almost looks hurt, concerned, the hints of caringness contrasting with his unnatural, deadly looks.

"If I go, who'll protect you?"

You don't know how to respond, and so you don't, lips clamped shut as you stare at him apologetically, his cold hands leaving your arms.

"Who'll watch over you?"

You blink at his expectant, thoughtful look, shaking your head silently. The blood's stopped gushing from his eyes now, but trickles down his face slowly, eerily like tear tracks.

"Who'll understand you?"

You let out a shaky sigh, your body finally moving, taking a hesitant step closer to him. BEN's eyes drift over to the TV absentmindedly, a frown still on his face, and you dare to take a step closer, reaching a hand out tentatively, your warm fingers brushing against his freezing ones. His eyes snap to you then, and you speak up quietly.

"BEN, I'm sorry."

He doesn't say anything, staring at you indifferently, and you try again, your fingers wandering to his hand, which doesn't pull away at when you lace your fingers with his.

"I'm sorry, BEN, I am. I won't shut you out again, okay?"

BEN still won't answer, and you dither, before doing something that'll either get you killed by shocking stuns of electricity, or his miraculous, unbothered amused smile. You take back your hand to steadily, anxiously wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his cold body close for a hug. He stiffens at the action in surprise, and you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact.

Impact that never comes.

A small poke at your side makes you shrink back with a stifled laugh, and you relax in relief and happiness when you spot BEN's signature smirk, though it's a little milder this time.

"That won't do you any good."

"Oh, come on," you plead, and he raises a brow, clearly enjoying the desperate attention. "I- I was just scared, okay?"

"I know."

"I won't run from you again, BEN. I know you wouldn't hurt me..."

He tilts his head to the side at the last sentence.

"Do you?"

You don't know how to answer the question honestly. "Well..."

BEN seems annoyed and almost exasperated by your response, and you notice how the blood has stopped leaking from his midnight eyes, his red pupils searching and reading you all too easily.

"Would it help if I tell you?"

You nod slowly, uncertain of his motives, but don't move away as he's suddenly an inch away from you, the lights flashing briefly from the electric energy.

"Yes?"

BEN nods, the cold skin of his hands pushing your middle back into the wall again, though much more carefully this time. Then, all too soon, the electric boy's lips are on yours, and your eyes widen in shock at the bold move, and the unusual, addictive feeling. He tastes electric and appley, his lips melding against yours perfectly, and there's nothing you can do but melt into the feeling, letting your eyes flutter shut within a second.

But then it's over after a few drawn-out moments, and you hold back from chasing the sensation as he lingers, his nose bumping against yours and his cool breath tickling your cheeks.

"I'd never hurt you."

You let out a shaky breath, a faded smile on your face.

"You scared me," you admit awkwardly.

"...So did you."

"I'm sorry," you plead again, and he shakes his head dismissively. You know he's forgiven you by the way he looks at you, with no trace of his previous aggravation in his red and black gaze.

"Never mind."

"Can't I make it up to you?" You try asking, but as soon as you've said it, you watch apprehensively as that signature, boyish smirk, that you've surprisingly missed, tugs at his lips.

"I can think of a few ways."

There's no running from that, either.

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milesluna · 6 months

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My Favorite Games of 2023.

Hi. Hello. Thanks ever so much for clicking on this page. Happy to have you.

First thing's first: I'm a little freak when it comes to video games. I don't feel the need to beat most games I play. From Software is one of my favorite studios in the industry and I've never finished a single one of their games. This means, fortunately, that I get to play a LOT more games than the average bear.

I've written up some blurbs about my top ten favorite games from 2023, but before that here's the list of every game I remember playing this year that left any sort of lasting impact on me (in no particular order):

Dead Space Remake Resident Evil 4 Remake F-Zero 99 Humanity Dredge Metroid Prime Remastered Anemoiaplois Alan Wake 2 Baldur’s Gate 3 LoZ Tears of the Kingdom Counter Strike 2 Hunt Showdown El Paso Elsewhere Jusant Slay the Princess| Remnant II The Finals Street FIghter 6 Lethal Company BattleBit Remastered Don’t Scream Homebody The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog Pizza Tower World of Horror Super Mario Wonder Mr. Sun’s Hatbox Fifa 23 Sea of Stars (Demo) Half-Life (25th Anniversary Update)

And the games I played that were NOT released in 2023:

Unpacking Persona 4 Golden Picross 7 The Order 1886 Shovel Knight Dig Lost Planet: Extreme Condition Spider-Man: Miles Morales Pac-Man Championship Edition DX Project Zomboid Quake LoZ The Minish Cap Drill Dozer Wario Land 4 Pokemon Pinball Resident Evil Revelations Summer of ‘58 Trackmania TwinCop We Were Here Visage Cursed Halo CE Half-Life 2 (I probably play this once per year) Witch Hunt Red Dead Redemption 2 Cyberpunk 2077 Borderlands 3 Brutal Legend Cultic Slay the Spire PUBG Rez Infinite Batman Arkham City Alan Wake Alan Wake: American Nightmare Max Payne LoZ: Majora’s Mask 3DS Metroid Prime Metroid Prime 2 Tunic Everhood Final Fantasy VII Final Fantasy VII Remake GOODBYE WORLD Yakuza: Like a Dragon Critters for Sale Dome Keeper Phasmophobia Hades Nintendo Switch Sports

Now that you understand the kind of freak you're dealing with…

Let's dive into my top ten favorite games from this objectively fucked up year.

10. El Paso Elsewhere Developed by Texas indie studio Strange Scaffold, El Paso Elsewhere is a Max Payne-clone with vampires, an opinionated narrator, and lots and lots of bullet time. As a small studio punching well above their weight class, Strange Scaffold leans into abstract, PlayStation 1 minimalism when it comes to visuals and pairs them with a soundtrack that will make your hands sweat. The vibes are here and they're ready for the end of the world. I'm personally also a big fan of everything this studio stands for.

9. Mr. Sun's Hatbox I want you to imagine Metal Gear Solid V. Now I want you to imagine that game as a 2D, level-based, slapstick platformer you can play with up to three friends. If you think that sounds stupid, you'd be right. And it's beautiful. As you build up a secret army of soldiers with various skills (and disorders), you'll start to develop *favorites*. This game constantly asks if you're willing to send those favorites on a harrowing mission and risk losing them forever… or if you'd rather send an idiot you recently captured who blinks constantly and can't kill anyone without fainting.

8. Dredge Every year I feel like I find one game that falls into the “just one more round” category, and baby… Dredge was it for 2023. As a weary fisherman in strange waters, you'll make the most out of your 12 measly hours of sunlight only for your daily voyages to inevitably pull you into the darkness of night, and night is when things get weird. Rocks emerge from the fog that you swear weren't there before, your equipment malfunctions, and you're pretty sure you just saw something in the water… something big. Despite only containing a small collection of islands, the world of Dredge manages to feel vast - perhaps vast enough to swallow you whole.

7. Resident Evil 4 Remake I was curious to see what sort of changes would be made to the timeless classic and father of modern 3rd person shooters, Resident Evil 4. I wasn't let down. RE4 Remake takes all the things that didn't age well about the original, tossed them out, and replaced them with only good things. And MORE things! It's campy, fun, and better than a game of bingo.

6. Jusant I really feel like this one didn't get the recognition it deserves. Jusant is a rock climbing game that combines the quiet contemplation of Journey with the mechanical specificity of Death Stranding. Unlike Death Standing, though, there is very little story to interrupt your flow. There are plenty of collectible bits to find for those curious to learn more about what happened before the events of the game, but the environmental storytelling does most of the heavy lifting. For me, the joy of the game comes from how it feels. Right trigger controls your right hand grip, and left trigger controls left hand grip. Plan your route, manage your stamina, and climb high above the clouds in search of answers.

5. F-Zero 99 This. Shit. Slaps. I've never been a big F-Zero guy, but this MADE me one. The “battle royale”, 99 player format is the perfect fit for the ruthless, high octane world of the game. Races last about three minutes, and friend, they are the most intense, white-knuckled three minutes of your life. The decision to make your boost meter the same as your health meter started in F-Zero 64 (I believe), and it is so much more HARROWING in this game when another player could side-swipe you mere meters from the finish line and blow you to bits. Sadly it's only playable via Switch Online, but it made me cheer, laugh, and scream enough this year to earn a spot in my top 5.

4. Alan Wake 2 Remedy makes weird games that also manage to exist in the AAA space and for that I will forever love them. Although Alan Wake 2 resembles a 3rd person shooter survival horror, I'd honestly say it's more of a narrative game than anything else. There's sidequests, there's puzzles, there's upgradeable skills, but at the end of the day the characters, world, and story are what kept me playing. If you haven't checked them out recently, you should definitely watch a story recap of the original games before diving into this sequel, but the wild swings for the fences this game takes are well worth that small price of admission. There's a god damn musical number, for Christ's sake.

3. The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom I've really got nothing to say about this game that most people don't already know. It's incredible. The fact that Nintendo made a game that redefined an entire genre and then made a SEQUEL to it that ups the ante is remarkable. To be honest, I've only cleared the Rito, Zora, and Goron cities. I got a bit tired of exploring the depths and guiding Koroks to their friends, but I can't deny the sheer level of complexity and polish on display here. I saw someone on TikTok build a functioning Mecha Godzilla in this game. Good God. I've heard that the ending of this game is one of the best in the franchise, and if I'd seen it this year then it may have wound up higher on my list, but for the time being I'll continue picking up this masterpiece from time to time, chipping away at it until the day comes that I can finally smack the tits off thicc Ganondorf.

2. Half-Life (25th Anniversary Update) I know I'm gonna get shit for this, but I don't care. This year was the 25th anniversary of Half-Life and Valve released an update that made playing it (and it's online Death Match) much more accessible. I threw it on my Steam Deck out of curiosity, expecting to play for 20 minutes. I could not put it down. It is unbelievable how modern this game still feels. I simply had so much fun sprinting through the corridors of Black Mesa with a dozen weapons strapped to my back, blasting aliens and military Spec-Op chumps as a 24(?!) year old theoretical physicist.

1. Baldur's Gate III This game is fucked up, man. The sheer amount of writing in this game scares me. We can all talk about how BIG this game is, it deserves it, but the thing BG3 does better than any other role playing game I have ever experienced is actually encourage roleplaying. I've played through Act I four times now, with four different groups of friends, and it has felt fresh every time. I have seen the same events play out in so many different ways that it boggles the mind, but in every one of those play sessions I see players asking themselves “What would my lil guy do here?” rather than "what is the best thing to do here?" The game rewards players constantly for just trying shit and the D&D 5e rule set means playing like the character you said you were from the start leads to frequent Points of Inspiration. Maybe one day I'll see the end of this story (probably not), but I don't have to in order to feel a connection with BG3's world, characters, and most impressively, the characters I made myself.

Honorable Mentions for 2023

5. Dave the Diver 4. Homebody 3. Sea of Stars 2. Humanity 1. Super Mario Wonder

Top 5 Favorites NOT from 2023

5. Metroid Prime 4. Final Fantasy VII Remake 3. Cursed Halo (Halo CE Mod) 2. Red Dead Redemption 2 1. Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask (3DS)

Games I didn't have a chance to play from 2023 but still want to when I find more time...

Viewfinder Venba Chants of Sennaar Thirsty Suitors Hi-Fi Rush Moonring Armored Core VI Laika Aged Through Blood Bomb Rush Cyberfunk

OKAY THANKS BYE!

#video games #2023 #GOTY

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spanishskulduggery · 16 days

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what games do you play in spanish?

As of right now, primarily Baldur's Gate 3 in Spanish and a few other games - it's usually English dub, but because I switched my console to Spanish language, the Spanish subtitles/language options are the default (assuming they have the option)

Like I have the Kingdom Hearts collection and for whatever reason Spanish is not an option so it's all English. But then a few games like Dragon Age or Mass Effect have the option to change your language [and many computer games have language options as well; I was playing Civilization 6 in Spanish but there were so many proper names, names of cities, and specific things that are translated that I could not figure out how to look up what something did properly, so it was a bit of a trial by fire]

If you have a Nintendo Switch or something like that, you can often choose the language right before the game starts - that's how it was for Pokemon games in my experience

A lot of newer games come directly with the option and if you have a newer console they often change based on your language settings on the system itself. I forget that I'm playing in Spanish until I come upon some codex entry or something that's translated in Spanish and it's a main plot point so I'm like oh no what is that supposed to be in English

As an example, I was playing Baldur's Gate 3 and they translated the word for "hag" as la saga

That's not a terrible translation - "hag" in English typically makes you think of anciana or maybe bruja for "old lady" and "witch" but that doesn't 100% match what they were trying for [also brujo / bruja is how they translate "warlock" class which is historically correct but a bit confusing sometimes]

And I'm wracking my brain because to me la saga is a "saga" like a story... and then I remember, la saga is sometimes translated as like "witchdoctor", it means something like "wise woman" but it's sort of like a woman that says she knows magic but she might have ulterior motives? You can use that to describe people that give you psychic readings, that sort of magic/illusionist sort of thing

So it finally clicked that they were trying to translate "hag" in a way that didn't sound like you were talking about some old person, but someone who is magical in nature and understood to be greedy and negative in a way

Anyway, I usually play RPGs or longer story games that give me lots of chances to read and learn new words

I tried Assassin's Creed in Spanish but there were sometimes very particular nouns that I had never seen before because they're more... like tools or specialized things; like never in my life have I used the word azuela or "adze" so my brain is like "is that a kind of fish hook? [anzuelo]"

...Anyway you learn a lot, sometimes really specific vocabulary

I also notice some translation errors here and there that warm my heart because it's not usually the translator's fault

[As an example, I was playing this game and one character was papi "daddy" and the other was listed as momia and I'm confused until I realize it was probably "mummy" the way UK English says "mommy", so in a game with fantastical creatures they saw "mummy" and thought well it might be an actual "mummy" like una momia egipcia "Egyptian mummy", but really how would they know it should be mami not momia unless they saw the whole context?]

#asks #long post #I ramble #if you want a full list I'll let you know

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splatoongamefiles · 9 months

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not to steal your whole gimmick, i just wanna try to do this stuff myself because gamedev is one of my special interests and id love to look at various models and textures in detail. how do you get all the assets from the games, and view them so easily?

sure!

this program only works for Nintendo Switch games, maybe wii u? idk.

You need three things: 1. A switch game (dump the game yourself or find it online) 2. Yuzu or Ryujinx 3. Switch Toolbox

Load the switch game into the emulator of your choice, including the DLC and Updates too! I'll skip over this because theres a lot of guides online for emulators.

Next you need to dump the "romfs" of the game, you can do it like this in ryujinx/yuzu (neither of these screenshots are mine)

if it asks you for a full or a skeleton, hit full.

When it's done dumping it will give a folder with a bunch of stuff, you can leave it there or move it to somewhere more convenient

When that's done open Switch Toolbox and open the folder

you'll have something like this, and then now all you do is just go through folders and files until you find things you want. You really gotta just figure things out, because the folder structure may be different from game to game but usually they're labeled nicely. All the files that end in .zs are compressed/packed, and you can just double click to open it up.

heres a few ways you can see things:

the only thing is that sound and music needs an external program. i use Foobar2000 with the vgmstream plugin

#ask #Anonymous #not a rip

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simpforfandom231 · 6 months

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Mario cart wrestle PT 1

pairing: Alycia Debnam-Carey x Fem!reader

Summary: just you guys hanging out and playing some Mario Cart that turns into an Olympic sport.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alycia Debnam-Carey and her girlfriend Y/N were enjoying a rare day off together. The couple decided to spend their free time doing something fun and competitive, so they set up their Nintendo Switch and started playing Mario Kart. The living room was filled with laughter and playful banter as they selected their favorite characters and prepared for a gaming showdown.

Alycia chose Princess Peach, and Y/N went with Yoshi. The race started with the familiar countdown, and they were off, racing through the vibrant tracks of the Mushroom Kingdom. The room echoed with the sounds of excitement and button mashing as they jostled for the lead.

"You better watch out, Y/N! I've been practicing," Alycia teased, her fingers dancing across the controller.

Y/N smirked, "Oh please, Alycia. I've got this in the bag. Yoshi's going to leave Princess Peach in the dust!"

As they raced through Rainbow Road, the intensity escalated. The tight turns and colorful obstacles made the competition fierce. Alycia managed to pull ahead, but Y/N wasn't one to back down. She used a well-timed mushroom boost to catch up, causing both of them to burst into laughter.

The playful banter continued as they navigated through the different courses. Alycia couldn't resist throwing in a few jokes about Y/N's driving skills, while Y/N retaliated with playful jabs at Alycia's character choice.

The final lap of the last race arrived, and the tension in the room reached its peak. Alycia and Y/N were neck and neck, exchanging glances of determination. The finish line was in sight, and victory hung in the balance.

In a surprising twist, Alycia pulled off a perfectly timed boost, crossing the finish line just ahead of Y/N. The room erupted into cheers and laughter as Alycia celebrated her triumph.

"I told you, Y/N! Princess Peach for the win!" Alycia exclaimed, doing a little victory dance.

Y/N, however, wasn't as amused. She playfully pouted, crossing her arms, "This is rigged! I demand a rematch. Best two out of three!"

Alycia chuckled, "Alright, alright. But prepare to lose again, my love."

As the day went on, Alycia and Y/N's gaming session escalated into a full-blown battle. The friendly competition turned into a hilarious yet intense struggle for victory. The living room was filled with shouts, laughter, and the rapid clicking of buttons as they fought for the upper hand in the game.

Eliza Taylor, Alycia's best friend and co-star on "The 100," decided to surprise them with an impromptu visit. Little did she know, she was about to witness a spectacle she would never forget.

As Eliza entered the room, she was greeted by the chaotic scene. Alycia and Y/N, both on the edge of the couch, were practically on top of each other, feet and hands flying in every direction. It looked more like a wrestling match than a video game session.

Eliza stood there, stunned, taking in the bizarre sight before her. "Um, what is happening here?" she finally managed to ask, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Alycia, caught in the heat of the moment, looked up and grinned, "Oh hey, Eliza! We're just settling a little Mario Kart dispute. Care to join?"

Eliza couldn't help but burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation. "This is better than any reality TV show I've ever seen," she remarked, pulling out her phone to capture the moment.

Meanwhile, the gaming battle raged on. Y/N, fueled by a desire to win, decided to take a bold approach. She playfully lunged at Alycia, attempting to suffocate her with her strategic positioning. Alycia, not one to back down, responded with a swift jab to Y/N's ribs, causing both of them to erupt into laughter.

Eliza, still recording the hilarious scene, decided to go live on social media. "You guys, you won't believe what's happening here. Alycia and Y/N have turned Mario Kart into a full-contact sport! Check this out!"

As the live stream gained viewers, fans couldn't get enough of the entertaining chaos. The comments section flooded with laughing emojis and exclamations of disbelief. Alycia and Y/N, oblivious to the online audience, continued their playful brawl for victory.

Eventually, they collapsed back onto the couch, breathless and in fits of laughter. Eliza, wiping tears from her eyes, declared, "I think we just discovered a new Olympic sport – Mario Kart Wrestling!"

The trio spent the rest of the day reminiscing about their outrageous gaming session, sharing the video with fans, and creating memories that would be talked about for years to come.

#fandom #fanfic #alycia debnam carey #eliza taylor #the 100

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aheckinmess · 29 days

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Sasses, Spice, and Everything Nice [Bakugo] (Fluff)

(One-shot 12/? in a collection of My Hero Academia one-shots posted regularly on Saturdays - and sometimes Sundays.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Bakugo x OC, Katsuki Bakugo, Dynamight, Pro-Hero Bakugo, Pro-Hero OC, Pregnant OC, Some Fluffy Cuteness to Soothe Your Soul, One Explosion Boy, Playing Video Games, With a Side of Cute Banter

Word Count: 971 words

Summary: During a quiet evening in, Ichijiku and Katsuki play some video games with a side of banter.

Ichijiku (Tigress)

"SON OF A SIDEWAYS SALAMANDER!" I yell at my Nintendo Switch. "Kastukiiiiiii, I almost had it..." I whine, flopping against his side as a giant skeleton creature kills my Hollow Knight.

"Are you playing Hollow Knight again?" He chuckles, wrapping an arm around my waist and squeezing me closer to him. His fingers stroke my belly absently. "You told me you've never played it before. It makes sense it would take you a few tries to get it right."

"You say that, but what about you?" I poke out my lip at him and lick his cheek on principle. "You know good and well if youuu were playing..."

"I know, I know." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, turning the page of his book. "Smartass."

"Better than being a dumbass." I giggle, which makes him grip my cheeks and shut me up with a hard kiss. "Trying to shut me up with brute force won't stop me!"

"That's not what you said last night." He teases, and I smack his arm.

"Behave!"

"Never." He twirls my hair through his fingers and turns back to his book. "Go ahead and give it another try."

. . . . .

Fifteen minutes later and I shriek at the top of my lungs.

"Kakun, I did it!" I wriggle my legs all happy. "I beat the big boy!"

"Is that his official villain name?" He taunts, before kissing my cheek.

"Maayybbee," I purr. "How's your book?"

"It's the book you recommended to me." He grunts. "I thought since it was fantasy it wouldn't be that great, but..." He trails off.

"Hahah! You like it!"

"I guess." He pouts and then shifts me so I'm curled up in his lap. "Main character's irritating though."

"Thank you!" I agree, setting my Switch to the side and wrapping my arms around his neck. "She's so annoying. I want to jump in the book and slit her throat."

"I don't know that she'd deserve the energy."

"Harsh, Katsu. Harsh." I wiggle my nose. "What do you want for dinner, handsome?"

"You think you can make some of that spicy tempura you made last time?" He asks. "That shit was tasty."

"Sure, I can manage that. But only if you cuddle me for a few more minutes." I tangle my fingers up in his hair. It's always so spiky, but that makes it that much more fun to play with as I massage his scalp.

"That's an easy request."

My request for cuddles results in me falling asleep for a few minutes against Katsuki's broad chest. When my eyes flutter open, the soft music of Zelda and the clicking sound of him pressing buttons serenades my ears.

"Katsuki?" I mewl, yawning and lifting my head up to meet his eyes. I smell something spicy and turn to look around. Spicy tempura sits on the table. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"You've got a whole human growing inside you, Tiger, you're allowed to take a nap." He ruffles my hair. "Besides, if you're that tired today I don't want to make you get up just to cook. You're fine." He promises.

"How far have you gotten?" I ask after a silent moment.

"Trying to beat this damn thunder blight." He huffs, backflipping for a flurry rush and slamming the beast with his weapon as quickly as possible. "I got all the other divine beasts but this bastard is resisting like he has any choice in the matter."

I laugh. "You're so cute."

"Cute? Me? We need to get you some new glasses, Tiger."

"But you arrreeee! You try not to be but you just can't help yourself." I squish his cheeks and kiss him.

"Whatever." He licks his lips, eying me salaciously before turning back to the Switch screen. "FUCK!" His exclamation jolts me, but he shifts and rubs my back to keep me soothed. "Sorry. I lost. I'll try again later."

He picks me up in his arms and carries me to the charging dock to put the Switch away. When he returns to the couch, he sets me down and lifts my shirt a bit.

"Hey, Small Fry, don't repeat that word, you hear? Your mom might murder me in my sleep."

"There is no might to it. I will murder him in his sleep." I chirp fondly to my belly.

"Oh, so I'm not allowed to curse, but you're allowed to condone the murder of parental figures?" Katsuki suddenly tackles me and nuzzles his face in my neck. "I see your double standards."

"It's not condoning murder. It's teaching him to be a man of his word."

"Then I'm just teaching her a bigger vocabulary."

I narrow my eyes at him but end up snorting anyway. "Okay, I get your point." I direct my commentary to the bean in my belly again. "No one shall be murdering your father, little one, fret not."

"And I won't be using any curse words in front of you...intentionally."

"Good. Now, I'm starving, Kakun."

"Mmph, there's not a chance I can stay here a few more minutes, is there?" He sneaks a hand over my belly as his breathing gets deeper. Even though he whispers, I can hear every word. "I'll protect you and your mommy forever, okay? I promise."

My fingers rake through Katsuki's hair again, tears glittering in my eyes. I love you so much. You're going to be such a good daddy.

"We'll both protect you." I purr.

"And teach you how to fight." Kastuki adds quickly. He delivers one final kiss to the tender, taut skin and then pulls back. "Alright, time to eat. Hope you like spicy food, kid."

"If he has your attitude? There's no doubt." I smirk.

"And if she has yours, we're all in trouble."

Want More Bakugo? Try: Fire in the Hole - Boom! Goes the Dynamight

Credit to @cafekitsune for the divider!

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bulldog-geckorahhhhh · 1 month

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I finally feel confident posting my Lizzy writing here lol. Uh so, (semi old) Lizzy fic be upon ye! Quick info:

Lizzy is a half vampire, Strebers younger sister, a hardcore gamer and local menace. This takes place after tender treats, and is headcannon heavy! Also candybats is mentioned cause I’ll die on that hill.

Usually, late november was one of the best months for Lizzy. With the cooling weather and discount halloween candy being even more discounted. The movie theater getting rid of all the excess candy they couldn’t sell during the halloween rush. For Lizzy it was heaven! She had no need to stealthily hop the counter and grab handfuls of sweets, when Radford was tossing packs of twizzlers and skittles at her the moment she walked through the door! But this November she couldn’t stomach a single sweet at all.

While the cold draft swirled around her and the old metal bench she sat upon, Lizzy absentmindedly pulled her collar up with a shaky hand. Her fingers were freezing, nearly purple from the cold as she struggled to press the buttons on her Nintendo Switch. It wasn’t every day she brought it with her, she never had before, but now she had to have something to entertain her while she waited for kevin to pick her up from school. He got off work an hour later than she got out of school, and the only bus in town never went down her road. So while she clicked away on her console, the wind barely muffled the two sets of footsteps rushing towards her.

Along with the footsteps, high, shrill voices carried in the wind. “HI LIZZY HI LIZZY HI LIZZY HI LIZZY”, the chorus raced towards her, echoing around the empty parking lot as the two costumed children ran up to Lizzy’s bench. Skid and Pump, the two kids who wore halloween costumes even into late december circled the bench, waving their arms above theirs heads. “What are you playing, Lizzy? What are you playing, Lizzy? What are you playing, Lizzy?” They chanted, climbing onto the bench to peer over her shoulders at the small screen.

She could smell the sugar on their breath, and it made her insides flip.

“Ju’th fortnite.”, She mumbled, gently nudging the two younger kids away with her elbows. They apparently didn’t catch her hint, and immediately leaned back on her. “Can we play next??” Skid asked loudly, looking away from the screen to give Lizzy his best puppy dog eyes. Pump matched his friend, staring up at Lizzy with a quivering lip. She could only spare a glance to the two though, as she was currently in a chase with another player. Her fingers ached as she pressed down hard on the joystick to activate her sprint. “Maybe, guy’th. I’m trying to complete th’ome que’ths.” was her delayed response.

The two younger boys groaned, dropping their pleading expressions in favor of watching the screen once more. Admittedly Lizzy was great at the game, as she eventually gunned down the other player. The number of people in the game ticked down as Lizzy got her kill, leaving her as one of the only ten players left. She sucked in another sharp, cold breath as another player ran into her scopes view. She pressed down on the right bumper, landing a shot on the person, smiling to herself as they were eliminated, their items spilling out onto the ground. Nine players left.

Next to her, the younger boys gasped in awe, amazed grins stretched across their masked faces. Amazingly, they stayed quiet while Lizzy played, the only noises emanating from the bench being the sound effects from the game. Time ticked down, and the storm grew closer, more people were eliminated until it was just Lizzy and one other person remaining. A cold chill ran down Lizzy’s spine as she searched for the other player, adrenaline buzzing in her frozen fingertips. As she listened closely for the sound of other players' footsteps, even the raging wind seemed to go silent, holding its breath in anticipation. The world felt so empty for a moment, the quiet so deafening as Lizzy’s finger squeezed on the right bumper, her scope locked onto the other player in the distance. A hushed breath escaped her lips, her finger pressing down firmly on the bumper.

She missed

The other player spun around, quickly moving towards her as Lizzy fumbled to switch to one of her other guns. Squeezing down on the left bumper she aimed and started firing, her heart thumping from the thrill of fire-fight. She had landed two good hits on the other player, the two boys next to her, as silent and still as statues drew their own quiet breaths. The air continued to remain so still, and thick around the bench none of the children noticed the three sets of crunching footsteps coming closer. Lizzy, still fully engrossed in the match, grimaced as she ran out of ammo and had to reload. She jumped around, mashing the B button until her gun was reloaded. She aimed again, ready to unload what would hopefully be the last round of bullets onto the last player, when she was startled by a loud, barking shout. The controller nearly slipped from her hands, and the other player used this moment to spray her down with bullets and eliminate her.

Lizzy breathed heavily, tightening her grip on the console after nearly dropping it. The exit menu flashing in her face as the winning player claimed the Victory Royale. Slowly, with defeat, Lizzy clicked off the console and looked up to see who startled her and cost her the match. And of course it was a particular set of three boys. Signified by the fact they were all wearing hats, and that two were taller than the last boy. Who just happened to be Lizzy’s arch nemesis. Roy. and his two cronies. Really, she only hated Roy.

“What.” she deadpanned, glaring daggers at Roy, her annoyance deepening at the smug grin he returned. His two friends behind him offered her softer expressions, but did nothing to stop their friend. The two kids next to Lizzy waved brightly at the other three, greeting each of the boys by name. It seemed they shared little of Lizzy’s reservations about Roy and his friends. Even if they tormented them the same.

“Surprised to see you sitting in one place and not bothering anyone like you usually do! Shouldn’t you be at the mall or something?” Roy chided, crossing his arms tightly to his chest while he stood in front of Lizzy’s bench proudly. “But I mean of course you’re sitting here playing video games like a loser- so it works.”

To be honest Lizzy found the attempted slander pitiful and lame, causing her to roll her eyes and shrug. Following the advice Kevin gave her once, she didn’t dignify Roy with a proper response. She doubted he could make her feel any worse than she already did, so what did it matter.

“Oh so now you want to be quiet? Lemme guess! You played so much, you rotted your brain and forgot how to talk!” The shorter boy cackled, glancing back to his friends who offered nods and a thumbs up in response. Lizzy grunted, pulling her collar back up over her mouth and nose. Still not offering a response to the lackluster attempts to rile her up, she thought that maybe if she was boring enough they’d leave her alone for a day. Really, she just wanted to go home.

Her silence had a clear effect on Roy, as the boy sneered, his eyes darting to the side as he scrambled to come up with another insult. “Why- why are you even still here anyways? Your lameass brother forget to pick you up again? He’s probably too busy making some stupid invention or something and forgot you!”

Oh. Lizzy felt her stomach flip when her brother was mentioned. If anything she’d kill to be at the hospital with him right now. But Kevin was still working- and she didn’t have anyone available to take her. Maybe it was something in the way her eyes grew sadder, or the fact that she slumped in on herself that gave it away to Roy that he struck a nerve.

“Hey! You leave her alone, Roy!” Skid said from her left, pointing a finger at the other boy. “Yeah! Don’t be a meanie!” Pump chimed in, putting his hands on his hips. Lizzy remained silent, her cheeks flushing from embarrassment. She gently nudged the two boys again, trying to get them to stand down and drop it, but they refused to. Eventually the back and forth between Roy and the younger boys reached a head, and Lizzy abruptly stood up. With the sun behind her, she was silhouetted by shadow, giving her an admittedly scary image. The bickering died off quickly, as all eyes lingered on Lizzy for a moment.

“Th’ut up Roy.”, she mumbled after a moment, tucking her switch into her coat pocket. Kevin wasn’t here yet, but she couldn’t stand to be in the middle of this situation anymore. Despite her own short stature, she stood about a head and a half above Roy. She was eye to eye with Robert, the tallest member of Roy’s group.

“Oh are you going to go CRY to your stupid dork brother?”

Roy snarled, staring up at her. Lizzy could easily compare him to some sort of small dog. A scared animal that feels cornered.

“I’m going home”

She mumbled, shoving her hands into her pockets. She wasn’t actually going home. She couldn’t walk that far in the cold. The mall wasn’t too far, and Radford could call Kev and let him know where she was. She started to move past Roy, not expecting the sudden shove she felt on her back. Before she knew it, her chest hit the ground, her head following not long after.

She heard four- or three shouts. She could barely tell. Someone shouted Roy’s name- someone shouted hers. Her head was spinning- and she could feel a trickle of something on her forehead along with a sharp pain. The dull ache that followed kept her down for a while- even when she felt the urgent tugging at her sleeve, and Ross’s voice mumbled “Dude- did you kill her!?” Other voices and noises barely reached her as she slowly pushed herself up. Blood trickled down her face, down onto her coat collar. Dark red stained the neon green, and Lizzy simply groaned. Collecting herself while piecing together what happened. Her eyes drifted from the ground to Roy’s face. His eyes were wide, and face tinged with slight guilt.

Any other day she would have jumped on him immediately. Would have punched his lights out- would have screamed at him. But she couldn’t find it in herself to do that. She pulled her switch out of her pocket, quickly checking over its screen to check for cracks. With the device seemingly fine, she slipped it back into her pocket and stalked away.

She felt so empty and so messy and so terrible at the same time. The blood trickled down her face but she didn’t bother to wipe it away. It didn’t matter to her. She was cold, and achy, and so so close to a meltdown. Everything bubbled up in her chest, pushing and thrashing to escape. Hot tears pooled in her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. It wasn’t worth crying, not over this. Lately she’s been saving all her tears for the long, scary nights at home without her brother. Kevin went to bed fairly early compared to her, and by the time she finally allowed herself the freedom to cry, he was fast asleep. Which was fine for her, he didn’t need to see her cry anyways.

It took longer than usual for Lizzy to tramp her way to the mall, once or twice thick globs of blood got into her eyes, and she had to stop to rub them away. By the time she got to the mall, her face was stained a deep red, and she slunk around to the back entrance to avoid being seen and stopped. She knew someone would question her if they saw her face drenched with blood, but she really didn’t want to deal with that. Not until she got to the movie theater. The movie theater she was rapidly approaching now, her head angled sharply down. She didn’t need to see where she was going, it was practically muscle memory at this point. Slip in through the back, and jog to the movie theater. That’s what she did, but with much less mischievous glee than usual.

Soon enough, she reached the doors of the movie theater, pushing them over and slipping inside. Thank gods Radford was right up at the counter, though he usually was. The counter worker lifted his head, smiling brightly when he saw who it was.

“Heyyy, Lizzy!”

He greeted with his signature jovial enthusiasm. Though there was a softness to it that was impossible to ignore.

She looked up from the ground, blinking away another glob of blood that slid down into her eyes. Through blurred, red vision, she watched as Radford’s face contorted into a look of shock and panic as he hurriedly rushed from behind the counter towards her. His movements were blurred behind a thick trickle of the blood, nearly black. Lizzy barely reacted as Radford carefully pulled her bangs up to see the source of the smear on her sorrowful face.

“God- Lizzy what happened!?”

The counter worker asked loudly, his voice cracking behind worry and panic. Lizzy could barely hear him, a foggy numbness spreading across her brain.

“I fell..”

It wasn’t a complete lie, she had fallen. But it wasn’t the whole truth, she hadn’t done it herself. She was pushed.

“Hit my head..th’idewalk. “M fine though..”

She slurred, wobbling on her feet slightly. She really would be fine- she just needed a snack or something. Sweets and fruits sped up her healing process by days, but she still couldn’t decide if she was able to stomach that stuff anymore.

Her blurred vision settled on Radford again, watching his face contorted in pity and fear. His hand moved from her forehead, to his pants to wipe off the blood- then to his back pocket to grab for his phone.

“I’m calling Kevs- uh or- do you think you should go to the hospital??”

Rad pulled his phone from his back pocket, his fingers hurriedly pushing in his passcode. His fingers shake as he adjusts the phone in his hand.

“M’ fine- ju’th. Gimme th’om water n- n’ a twizzler plea’th”

Her voice came out barely above a whisper, her vision momentarily coming back into focus.

Radford knew she wasn’t fully human, and thankfully he didn’t protest and got her what she asked. Ushering her towards the counter, and helping her up, he gave her a cup of water and a handful of twizzlers. Afterwards, he turned his back and brought his phone up to his ear.

Gratefully, she brought the cup to her lips, emptying it in record time. Afterwards, setting the cup aside to chomp down a few twizzlers at a time. Chewing the tough candy brought mixed feelings. The taste made her want to cry, from relief that it’ll speed up the healing process- or from the sorrowful pit clawing in her chest. Feelings of disgust surfaced as she gnawed on the red strings. She didn’t want to be eating candy- not while her brother was laying in the hospital with no candy of his own. It wasn’t fair to him, it really wasn’t. She reluctantly swallowed the candy, staring down at the rest of the torn up red candies in her hand. It made her want to gag, the blood in her eyes obscuring what she saw just enough for the Twizzlers to appear like rippled apart tendons and guts.

Choking back the wail that threatened to rip itself from her throat, she dropped the candies onto the counter next to herself. Lazily wiping blood from her face with her arm, she turned her head to look over at Radford, who spoke quickly into the phone. Lizzy wondered if he was calling the cops or Kevin, until she heard him say “Kevs” and she had her answer. Figuring it would be better than going to the hospital as a patient, she didn’t say anything as Radford urged Kevin to head to the theater as soon as he could. After a few more minutes of rushed and shaky talking, Radford hung up. He turned back to Lizzy and leaned forward, examining the gash on her forehead.

“This did not come from just a fall- Liz what happened??”

He pleaded, using part of his sleeve to wipe away a bit of the fresh blood that slowly oozed from her wound. Lizzy could tell he was worried, but she just shrugged, batting his hand away.

“I told you, I fell. On the th’idewalk out’hide the s’thool”

She deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest and averting her gaze. She wasn’t going to tell him she was pushed. She didn’t want to deal with anything legal, knowing what she could do due to Roy seriously injuring her. She knew neither her nor Kevin wanted anything to do with Roy’s mom. That was something they bonded over, their shared beef with that specific family. She didn’t know the specifics, but she knew that woman tormented Kevin at Candy Club sometimes. Lizzy herself just got the brunt of Roy’s aggression at school.

“T’ho..i’th Kevin coming?”

She quickly changed the subject, looking back up at Rad. Her head tilted ever so slightly.

“Course he is! I think he almost had a heart attack when I told him you showed up here all bloody and out of it!”

Rad explained with a wild gesture, throwing his hands up above his head. He stared at Lizzy like her question was insane, and she couldn’t blame him. It was silly. For as much as the two pretended they couldn’t stand each other, Lizzy and Kevin were the closest they’ve ever been. Through all her self loathing and self depreciation she knew he cared about her. He does try.

“I’ths not like I’m dead.”

Lizzy shrugged, feeling the brain fog that swirled around her head begin to recede. No longer could she feel the trickle of blood over her skin, so she had to assume it stopped.

“Okay well I’m half undead. But that wa’th a th’ide effect of birth”

She mustered a quiet chuckle at her own joke, flashing a lopsided grin. It worked as intended, slightly easing the worry that thickly clouded the theater front-room. Tension still lingered however, and the two simply sat in quiet. Only a few minutes in, Lizzy reached into her pocket, pulling out her switch. Radford couldn’t stop the disbelieving laugh he squawked out.

“Seriously!? You have your switch with you?”

It was hilarious to him, because of course she did. It's Lizzy, why wouldn’t she have her video games with her? Even Lizzy wheezed out a chuckle, just holding the console in her hands. Offering a shrug, she clicked the console on, but quickly turned it back off as Kevin burst through the door.

Immediately, the tall ravenette rushed over, and grabbed Lizzy by the shoulders. She could almost swear there were silvery gray hairs sticking out from under his work hat. Kevin’s face was etched with worry and anger, his hands firm on her shoulders. Just looking at him made her want to cry. He looked so worried about her- causing a little voice in the back of her head to whisper about how she was a burden. Kevin was so stressed already-

“LIZZY! OH MY GODS LIZZY! Elizabeth May-Weather Alberich! What the hell happened!?”

Kevin asked in a slightly squeaky, but urgent voice. His hands shook where they gripped her, and his face reddened like he was going to cry. Nearly all reservations Lizzy had about telling the truth came crumbling down, as tears pricked in her eyes.

“Got pu’thed- Roy- freaking- he-”

She could barely start her sentence, tripping over her words. Her face reddened underneath the dried smear of blood. Her tears started to flow, huge and heavy. Everything bulled over, the tears she had tried so hard not to cry started to spill from her eyes. She hiccupped and sobbed, pulling her coat collar up over her mouth. Every mournful tear that welled up in her when she thought of her brother waterfall down her face, pooling on the bottom of her chin before dripping off onto her shirt.

Kevin took his hands off Lizzy’s shoulders, hovering them close to her for a moment as he thought of what to do. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever seen her cry, but it always took a second to figure out what he needed to do to help her. Hesitating for another moment, before he reached forward and pulled her into a hug. Moments later her arms were wrapped tightly around him, as she sobbed against his shirt. He didn’t need any more information to figure out what happened, or at least some of it. It made his temper flare, anger bubbling low in the pit of his stomach.

Couldn’t life just leave his family alone for five damn minutes?!

His anger went back to a low broil as Lizzy mumbled something, poking his back lightly.

“What’s up, Liz?”

Kevin asked gently, cocking his head to the side. Watching Lizzy lift her head slightly, her teary red eyes staring into his own.

“Can we go home..?”

She asked after sucking in a shaky breath. Really, all she wanted was to go home and curl up in her bed. She thought that if she had to stand one more second anywhere else she’d explode. Her skin crawled and she could hear the buzz of the fluorescent lights above. The sounds dug into her ears and pulled at her brain, making her wince and bury her head back against Kevin’s shirt. She clung tight to him, even tighter as he scooped her up into his arms. Holding close against him carefully, he said something to Radford that Lizzy couldn’t make out. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and her shoulders scrunched up against the sides of her head.

She only realized they were outside when the cold November air hit her like a heavy wave. She shivered, lifting her head to see the fading lights of day sinking over distant hills. The dim lights hurt her eyes less, and the muffled noises of the town around her were less grating than the harsh buzz from inside the movie theater. Eventually, Kevin set her down outside his car. Lizzy heaved the passenger side door open and climbed inside, slumping against the worn cloth seat. Her blood-caked bangs clung to her forehead, and her stomach began to hurt.

Kevin got into the driver's seat, and started the car. They sat in the parking lot for a moment, letting the car heat up. Neither of them spoke, and Lizzy turned herself to slump against the door, looking out the window. She let her eyes unfocus, the slight strain in her head fading away for a few moments. The next thing she knew the outside world on the other side of the window was moving. Colors and shaped blurred past as she stared out the window, the fog from her breath obscuring everything just a little more.

The drive back home didn’t take too long, but Lizzy was asleep before they even approached the road their house was on. Her cheek was pressed against the window, and she snored softly, though it was lost against the gentle hum from the car. As Kevin pulled the car into their driveway, Lizzy barely stirred. For a moment all her worries were gone, everything that clawed and scratched at her mind was quieted. This was a peace she longed for in her waking moments, a peace she was unsure if she’d ever actually feel again.

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