#// someone about to throw them both out for indecency

[twistedisciple]

[ Fashion Police ] - What in the world is that person wearing, and are you fit to be judging them for it? Or are you instead the culprit in question?

"That's a nice outfit you've got on, pal. I know the struggle; shirts aren't cheap. But hey, real creative of you to use a fishing net instead! Know where I can get one for myself?"

Oh, this guy's huge. Probably bigger than Mauvier even with the blocky armor. Griss had watched him walk all the way over here, but it wasn't until he was in the man's shadow, craning his neck back to look him in the face that he finally felt like he was looking up into the trees. He could stand and reclaim some of the difference for himself, but it wouldn't matter much, so instead Griss reclines nonchalantly in his chair, arms hanging loosely on either side.

"Now that's an idea." His eyes light up at the suggestion and he tilts his head. "You got any nets on hand? The coarser the better. I'll cut you out a shirt that'll give ya all kinds of blisters."

It's not a threat, even though for Griss the line between threat and conversation is a thin one. The excitement in his smile says something else: that he's met someone who understands the necessity of unending penance, and the value of a hair shirt to achieve that end. He plucks at the sheer mesh of his own thin shirt and shakes his head with disappointment.

"This one's too soft. Besides--" This time he waves a hand at the man's six (eight?) chiseled blocks of muscle on display for the whole ballroom to see. "--you wanna get kicked out or something? Thought they made you wear shirts for events like these."

[shmpxx]

NOTHING BUT A BULLY — g.s

⛤ bully! gojo satoru x fem! reader

you’re a victim of gojo satoru and his annoying tactics, it’s hard getting away from him but probably not this time.

cw. smut. mentions of non-con(photo taking). dub-con. virginity loss. oral (f.receiving). creampie. unprotected sex. fingering. dacryphilia. breeding. public sex. overstimulation. 18+!

wc: 2k

a/n: it’s been a minute bc I’ve been picky on what i write and i got inspiration from bully!gojo fics I’ve read so I’m writing this one!

Something about you was different, in a way that gojo couldn’t stop teasing you, he could never get bored even if you wished and prayed there be a day where he grew tired of poking at you.

He purposely trips you down the hallways or acts like he doesn’t see you and intentionally shoves you with his shoulder. Makes derogatory comments about you where he makes sure you’re listening. Stealing your lunch which he probably doesn’t even eat, he just wants to make your life miserable. Slaps your books out of your hands and watch you pick them back up while he chuckles to himself, if your lucky geto would be there and help you and excuse gojo’s actions. He would also secretly takes pictures under your skirt of your panties probably jerking off to them later.

He does get a little jealous when he sees someone else talking to you, he’ll always come around throwing his arm over your shoulder or even pushing you forward.

You tried to avoid him as much as possible, when you see him you try to walk the other direction he was coming from. He always know you try to avoid him as well and sometimes he still catch you. “Trynna hide from me?” He deviously smiles.

It wasn’t that he hated you, he just loved to tease and make fun of you. He made sure of that when you were both alone in a classroom.

He had you sitting on a desk with his hand slipping past your skirt to grope your thigh and ass. He grins to himself spreading your thighs for him to get in between them as he hungrily kissed your lips. His other hand on the back of your neck preventing you from pulling away from him even though you tried, fingers tugging on his shirt for desperation of air.

There wasn’t a day where every time he saw you, he thought of kissing you and touching you indecently. Now the time has come. His sexual fantasies of you are finally coming true.

Why were you letting him do this to you? After months of bullying and torture, you were letting him do whatever he wanted and you didn’t know why.

“You don’t know how much i wanted this” He moved down to your neck, ravishing your neck not caring that even after people would see the marks on your neck only to embarrass you.

You jolt when you feel his fingers press against your clit behind the fabric of your panties.

You kept thinking to yourself, you should stop this now. You can’t have gojo satoru control you like this. Not here.

“don’t want to anymore-“ you let out.

You pull away seeing his face in a pout expression, “aw don’t be like that” He moves your panties to the side, spreading your folds apart before entering his two fingers inside and feel the stretch of your walls by the intrusion of his fingers, letting out a cry and cling onto him. Your muscles tightening around him by the weird sensation he brought you.

“Your so tight, i bet your a virgin huh? Saving yourself for me right?” He whispers into your ear whilst pumping his fingers into your hole.

His fingers curl into the right spongy spot inside you making you wail loudly, smirking to himself watching your aroused expressions.

Looking at you as you were such a inexperienced sweet thing he loves that he’s toying you like this.

he speeds his pace faster into your cunt with also his thumb rubbing circles on your clit bringing you a whole new sensation you never felt before, you feel the tears breaking through your closed shut eyes. The tingling feeling bubbling up inside you, you didn’t know what that was, afraid of it.

“No! No! Wait-” you beg with a moan, you were about to reach something. Reach something you don’t know of and you felt complete emptiness. You were confused.

His drenched fingers covered in your arousal left your hole, instead gojo hooks onto the elastic of your panties and strips them down but you stop him from doing shaking your head no.

“you don’t want me to make you feel good?” He tilts his head at you.

“I..” you didn’t know what to say, your cunt feeling in ache of touch again but realization hit you that your in a classroom doing such activities in public.

“You want me to make you feel good right?” He stills brings your panties down dangling off your one ankle.

Apart of you wanted to say no but without thinking he had you wrapped around his finger like you were entranced that you nodded yes that got him smiling from ear to ear.

“I know you feel sore don’t you? I can kiss it better” Subconsciously you leaned back onto your palms when his hands under your thighs pushed them up more for him to gain more access as you watch him dip his head between making your heart ponder at your chest.

You whimper feeling his lips giving you a gentle kiss on your clit and started off with soft kitten licks on your cunt.

His lips latching onto your clit, sucking and licking your sensitive area. The same feeling building up inside you again coming much faster than before causing you to break out a moan.

Giving him the signal to bury his tongue deep inside your walls and give you a hard suck one last time before you start feel an rippling pleasure throughout your body. You feel as if the air ultimately left your lungs and you try to catch your breath.

Gojo licking the creamy substance that came from you from his lips and your cunt, not even giving you a break to let you calm down and your clit becoming sensitive spasming uncontrollably from his tongue and your legs became like jelly. You try to buck your hips away from his mouth but you were to weak to do so. Letting out sweet sobs.

“sweet angel being so good for me” he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip leaning in to kiss you again.

Without a warning from him, you break away from his lips feeling the tip of his leaky cock rubbing between your swollen folds.

“Gojo-“ your hand on his shoulder stopping him from going any further.

“Just relax angel—if you let me, I’ll let you call me satoru” as if it were a deal for him to take away your purity.

Half of his cock disappear inside you, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as you clutch onto him for support, dipping your face into his chest and his shirt damp from your tears. It was different from his fingers, his dick was pushing aside your walls. An inch of pain engulfing you but only for a few seconds.

“Sweet thing it’s not even all the way in yet”

“Ah! Gojo! I-“ his hips slamming into you. Not giving you time to adjust his rhythm already being so rough. You can’t think other than him being so thick and how far he’s reaching deep inside you making your head spin. He was so hard too and impatient he couldn’t wait to fuck you.

“Please—you’re too rough” As if he would listen to you. He thrusts into you hard, skin slapping against each other, the sounds of squelching from your sobbing cunt and his cock bullying your walls you might end up in the shape of him. Your body bouncing and your breath hitching every second from his aggressive thrusts.

You wanted him to be gentler though did you want this at all? Your mind still can’t comprehend anything other than the sweet spot he hits repeatedly. You cry and whimper into his shoulder making cute noises to gojo’s ears, holding onto him as you heard him grunt and pant into your ear.

“Who knew a slut like you could be enjoying this?”

“That’s not—ah!” You couldn’t get your words out without being interrupted by each moan you kept choking out.

Gojo couldn’t get over the way you squeezed him tight every time he pushed in and out of gummy area, your hot soft walls. You were full of warmth and wetness, making his dick twitch already. Even the way you cling onto him and cry into his chest by the overwhelming pleasure was so cute.

He can even see the way you move against his hips knowing your so desperate for it and enjoying it even how many times you try to deny it he knows.

“I’m gonna cum inside okay? I want to so bad need to fill you up”

“No—don’t! ah!-h, don’t wanna-“ the familiar tingling came back again yet you felt as if you were gonna cum much harder than before. His hips hitting you faster at a brutal pace, his hand grabbing behind your lower back to pull your hips closer to his to hit deeper inside your cunt, his tip almost at your cervix you might go dumb.

“Can you imagine having kids together? wouldn’t that be nice?” Carrying a child of your bully would be the last thing you thought of.

Shaking your head no he is quickening his pace and his slams his hips on his last thrust, emptying his hot load into you as you also reached your second orgasm much harder than before, your gummy walls contracting around his girth. Your body trembles and you sob loudly tears damping his shirt at this point feeling full and warm of his cum in your tummy.

He pulled out and cum leaked from your hole dripping onto the desk. “aw your letting it all spill”

Your body goes limp and he decides to flip you on your stomach onto the desk, your ass hanging in the air though you feel as if your about to fall apart. He smiles to himself watching his cum stream from your cunt like it was his masterpiece. it was too much already but gojos hands finds your waist, you whine feeling pressure and his cum gush out, sticking his erect dick once again inside you. “I miss your pussy already and plus i want to cum inside you again and fill you up a little more, just be a good slut like you are okay?” He squeezes the plush of your ass.

“Gojo no-“

“Satoru…you earned it now and you earn a little more—hah” already thrusting inside your abused swollen cunt. It was so easy for him to slide in again and how you still feel so warm inside just how he likes it.

“Sa-toru” you moan and whine water filling your eyes and soaking your lashes. “I love it when you say my name” his voice in a raspy tone, throwing his head back, pleasure engulfing him whole. His essence oozing onto the floor.

He grabbed your thigh lifting your leg up for him to gain more access more control, you were onto your side holding onto the desk preventing yourself from slipping off. He just continues tormenting your body, reaching towards your clit and his thumb putting pressure onto it. You couldn’t do nothing but cry out, you were so overstimulated, you were weak and now his thumb adding a more electrifying sensation and you were about to achieve your third orgasm.

You would consider this torture, it was too good to handle at all once. Your head spinning, your out a breath only to make small noises.

“I’ll try to make this quick, just for you sweetheart” he continues his frantic thrusts, rubbing your clit in rough circles, your eyes roll back in too much ecstasy you were basically drowning in. He loved watching you all fucked out, his cock plunging you every second.

He finishes up and cums into you one last time, fire pooling low into your abdomen. Another warm load filling you up making you fuller, Gojo thinks to himself that this would not be the last time he will have you.

You thought gojo would change a bit towards you, that was a lie. The next day your shoes are missing and you can hear him laugh from the hallway down. You hate yourself for liking someone like him now but you can’t help it, you know he is just using you as his little toy and also messing with you at the same time. From your missing shoes to him freeing his cock and pressing it against your lips on your knees.

[glitch-after-dark]

Ekidocksos i am in LOVE with your account!!!!!!

Just..Rodimus completely stuffed and bred with Drift & Ratchets sparklings from a drunken one night stand? He left before they woke up and dodges them for weeks on end not knowing they want so much more of him & his hot plush valve.

They get the drop on him when they find him rubbing his tanks & eating sweet energon mini cakes in his office.

They know right then he’s sparked & soon they have him bent over, stuffed with their spikes & trying to add a couple more for a clutch

I would have answered this sooner but I’ve been gardening so exhaustion prevented me from having the energy. I just found your account as well and SoundRod content is very exciting to see! I need to do more with them.

Anyway—this idea is brilliant. I love some Dratchrod angst+horniness+babies.

Just Rodimus hanging out with his best friend—they are officially Amica now, yeah drinks for everyone—celebrating the latest adventure on their Forever Adventure and well into giggling drunk that both Ratchet and Drift are as well. He’s been very cuddly grabby, draping himself over Drift—who is definitely over! He’s very supportive now—and instead of huffing Ratchet just tells him to shove over and when he’s moving too slow picks him up and sits under him making Rodimus half in Ratchet’s lap while still draped over Drift and Ratchet’s telling jokes and laughing at Rodimus and he’s lost track of whose hands are whose at some point. Then Dratchet kisses and Rodimus whines about not getting any so Drift kisses his cheek which Rodimus pouts and says isn’t the same so Ratchet huffs and grabs his chin to lay one on him that has him squirming especially when Drift is petting his spoiler and he’s panting when it breaks. Drift, of course, protests that Ratchet cheated and Drift was supposed to get the first move, making Ratchet laugh and before Rodimus can figure that out Drift is turning his head his direction and kissing him deeply. Rodimus is just a squirming mess not having to be moved and just moving back to the other with someone constantly petting him or grabbing his thighs or holding his waist until Swerve finally throws them out for “public indecency”.

Which gives Rodimus enough of a moment of fresh air to go oh wait what and start to think up an excuse to dip out only for the hands to come back and the three of them to stumble back to Dratchet’s room to resume the sandwich and kissing, which quickly escalates once they have Rodimus shoved in the bed between them. Rodimus catches bits of “wanted you here” and “thought we were going to take him to dinner first” teasing between the kissing and moving around each other and realizes what is going on. Drift and Ratchet are clearly wanting a threesome and intended to ask Rodimus who feels guilty how immediately into that he is for both of them and distracts himself by opening his own panel and mouth descending onto Ratchet’s hands to suck them in remembering how sensitive they are.

He is being passed back and forth between them and responding very eagerly, if a little clumsy which slowly peters out into more smooth movements when the overcharge fades through multiple overloads leaving him clear minded but unwilling to leave when Ratchet is holding his thighs thrusting up into him and Drift is petting him laying over his back, spike pressed against him waiting for his turn, telling him how pretty he looks taking his Conjunx’s spike and look how happy he’s making him and Ratchet is growling out and agreement that sends Rodimus toppling into  another overload that makes him bluescreen a bit only to wake to Ratchet kissing him sweetly, Rodimus sprawled out on his front, Drift slipping inside behind peppering kisses on his spoiler with Ratchet’s hands steadying Rodimus’s hips.

He's too tired to leave immediately when it finally finishes and they clean each other off, nuzzling and kissing, this time slow and sweet without the expectation of it leading to anything, and shove him in between to cuddle. He wakes up with Drift having shoved between him and Ratchet, wrapping around their arms and carefully manages to slip out painfully sober and aware of what he’s done and flees cold and horrified by how much it aches to leave them.

Rodimus is panicking because he thought—had lied to himself—he was over Drift and now not only is he wrong he’s developed a crush on Ratchet—reliable, stern, stubborn, kind, smart Ratchet—his Amica’s Conjunx. And he knows very well it is unrequited. Even if they are wanting to be adventurous and invite someone new to sleep with them, Rodimus is going to be devastated when they finally close their bed again.

One night he could laugh off as a drunken fun time, but he will not be able to disguise how clingy and emotional and needy he’ll be if they make it a frequent thing. That’s why Rodimus didn’t do multiple nights with people! He “misunderstands” and thinks more is going on than it actually is. He refused to inflict that on Dratchet.

He’d just gotten better at not shoving his way into Drift’s way and asking for things because Drift won’t tell him no! Ratchet finally tolerates him enough to not protest them being Amica—not that he’d said anything before but Rodimus knew he thought Drift could do better—which Rodimus agreed but was selfishly glad he hadn’t.

So he avoids them, helped by arranging the schedule and a few emergencies, always ready to offer an excuse even if it did make Drift look at him sadly and Ratchet look suspicious. And if he starts to feel weird afterwards, at first sick and tired, falling asleep in his office and achy, and then horny and starving and can’t stop eating sweets that’s his business. He has successfully managed to scrap their interactions down to the bare minimum which he will continue to do until he’s unrequited feelings fade, which would be a lot easier if they’d stop trying to corner him and Minimus and Megatron stopped judging him every time he made the schedule.

Rodimus’s sweet intake leads to his density increasing making him way more as protoform is building up and he doesn’t notice the difference, difference until he has the subtlest belly budging out just above his array. Ratchet finally pegs what is going on when he notices the anti-nausea, the glow, and the belly and way Rodimus’s hips are rounding out and chest is subtly swelling. He puts his foot down and he and Drift finally corner him by using privileges to be put on the graveyard shift with Rodimus.

Rodimus, who’d been getting gentle pep talks (Minimus) and just do it pep talks (Megatron), allows himself to be lead away. Accept apparently him carrying has gotten Ratchet and Drift very hot and bothered and instead of the conversation they are kissing him and pushing him over his desk to stuff him full and Rodimus is ready to go at a moment at this point, constantly horny, and is immediately distracted by this and also can’t get away and is sober enough to actually hear them saying they want him to stay and how thrilled they are to have a clutch and the phrasing is with the intention of a future together. After Drift, who has to be responsible because it turns out Ratchet’s breeding kink is making him thoroughly distracted pushing Rodimus against the nearest surface so he can cup his belly and fuck him, calls Megatron and Minimus to take over their shift.

Rodimus wakes up the next day to a grumbling Ratchet getting out of bed and kissing Drift goodbye and soothing him back to rest and then seeing Rodimus looking up at him sleepily kisses him and tells him to keep sleeping too. And Rodimus gets to, still not entirely sure what is going on, but the possessive grasp Drift makes on him when he rolls back over to sleep and Ratchet’s firm stay here with his own instincts finally relaxed and sleeping good from a night in between them helps.

They do eventually talk and work things out in between a lot of makeup sex and now Rodimus basically living it while getting bent over or crowded up against a wall to make sure he gets enough material to make their clutch. Drift is more slow and sweet about it taking his time and gentling Rodimus through it, savoring every moment, but Ratchet is rougher and very into the breeding aspect, prone to picking Rodimus up and shoving him against the wall or desk or bed (if they make it that far), and filling him up, fucking him until Rodimus’s is yowling, still carefully and hand always gently petting over Rodimus’s swelling tank. Ratchet is also the one who is now the most prone to spoiling Rodimus at the slightest pout. The carrier of the clutch deserves everything is Ratchet's stubborn response everytime he has a happy purring Rodimus pepper his face with kisses and Drift tease him about it.

Happy pregnant Dratchrod sex and babies for the win with Rodimus getting pampered.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hi! I really love your fics! Can I request a Vasco x blunt!reader? Where the reader would always compliment Vasco without shame (he deserves it!) and like calling him Good bo or handsome for beating bad guys whhehehe. I think Tabasco would blush a lot and I would love to see his reaction in your perspective! (They’re either lovers or both have feelings for each other but haven’t confessed yet) thank you! (Also sorry that this is long🥺)

-🥔

Aww thanks for the kind words anon, and for the ask! Long asks are good! Allows me less freedom to wordvom and completely miss the point lol. Let me know if this hits the spot, or feel free to send me another ask (I think I might have misread this????)

Heheheeee Vasco would 100% blush, and he would also 100% need a blunt reader because someone needs to make it obvious and Euntae is too dense innocent for words.

Vasco x Reader: Compliment Assault

You've seen the Burn Knuckles gang. They're not exactly the most... well-mannered and their leader Vasco is exactly the person you would expect to lead them. Except, well. He really isn't.

He tells you all about kangaroos and Hero Man and Jay's puppies; all about wanting to protect the weak and using the gang for good. He even starts walking you home after you tell him about feeling unsafe. Who can blame you for liking him.

"Vasco, how are you still single!"

Vasco completely pauses midstep and freezes. He turns to look at you with wide eyes.

"Y/N? W-what do you mean?" Bless this guy, he's turned completely red.

"Vasco, you've turned completely red!" You sidle up to him and throw your arm round his shoulder, or what you could reach of it, forcing him to crouch down. He glances at you uncertainly but manages a hesitant smile.

"My dear Euntae. You're just..." you hold the back of your hand up to your forehead and pretend to swoon. "Look at you!"

"W-what about me?" You notice despite his embarassment, he eagerly looks at you.

"You're just so big and strong. I mean these muscles... and your tattoos!"

You give his biceps a little squeeze and he flushes. He always lets you get away with too much, and the fact that you're groping him in public makes him feel indecent. Yet seeing you smile and feeling your touch makes it worth it.

You continue your assault.

"And you're always looking after me and protecting others! You look so hot beating up bad guys. You know that right?"

Vasco shakes his head furiously. Y/N thinks I'm hot?

"You might be the sweetest guy I know." Y/N thinks I'm sweet?? "How are you such a good boy!"

Shit. The words 'good boy' makes Vasco's pulse race and he gulps. Definitely indecent. He decides to put a stop to this before it goes too far. He clears his throat and wills himself to stop blushing furiously.

"Y/N... are you feeling ok?"

You take a step back to look at him. God you really do like this fool. You sigh. "You know when you get a girlfriend-" Vasco opens his mouth to interrupt but you press on, "-and you will. We... we probably shouldn't be like this."

He looks at you in confusion, barely keeping up with your change in mood. "What do you mean Y/N?"

"We spend a lot of time together, Euntae. We probably wouldn't be hanging together as much. You wouldn't be walking me home anymore..."

You look at the ground sadly, thinking about the day that you won't be the only person taking up his spare time. Vasco's strong hands reach out to grasp yours. You look up in surprise at his display of affection.

His face is set in grim determination, "I'll always walk you home and look after you Y/N. I promise."

Vasco looks at you with such sincerity that you can't help but be touched and your lower lip starts to tremble. You wrap your arms around him in an embrace, hiding the emotions on your face.

"Thank you Euntae."

[fandomfluffandfuck]

no i love this so much..... imagine professor evans looking like That in class but when you stumble upon him in a bar he looks like That?!? it's either chris just likes to separate work from play in a more visual manner, or it's subtly because he knows he won't get recognized as easily...

(college twink!seb is horny for both btw 😉)

but damn, i wanna throw in the idea of nerdy!seb who wears glasses and his long hair in his face when he's at campus, but when he has the time to go out, he's in his Full Slut Outfit that makes fratboy prof!chris drool 🥴🥴

related to this

Fuck yeah!

I LOVE this idea.

I mean, whether it's intentionally a vibe change to hide in plain sight or just because he has those two sides and it helps him let loose it's... 😮‍💨😮‍💨 yeah. It's a lot.

It's too much to deal with!

He's breaking necks because he looks so fucking good that everyone's eyes are tracking his every move, but he's also breaking necks, giving everyone whiplash, because to those that do know him it's, wait, is that Professor Evans? Intellectual, prim, proper Professor Evans who's passionate about his work and happy but definitely formal and a little rigid, controlling of his rules and attire effortlessly? Huh? What the fuck? He's so... hot. Like. He's hot all the fucking time but whereas he's buttoned up suave during the day, the sun has set and he's unbuttoned, rowdy, drunk hot. Fuck me.

Ohhhh my god, you're so right, though. If we have code-switching Professor Evans, then we need his matching Sebastian. Absolutely! We need good-boy, rule-follower college student Sebastian who becomes a full-on fucking hot mess when he's out partying on a Friday night. Sebastian's long hair hangs over his face, falling into his eyes during lecture, making him always twitch, shaking his head to push it back, blushing whenever someone tugs playfully on his hair, commenting about how cute he is, but when he's out-? His hair is a mess from dancing. Sometimes, it's down and curled from sweat and heat, other times it's tied back, back from his face to show off that pretty bone structure and especially those red, bitten lips wrapping around the rim of any bottle he can get his hands on (and some other things too, mostly, really, anything he can get his hands around and some things he can't 😘)

Oh my god, though, what if they run into each other at an off-campus party? Close enough to campus for Sebastian to make it there in the first place but far enough away that Chris feels comfortable partying there, no fear of running into students, it's mingled ages of Chris and Sebastian and... they drink, making eyes at each other, Sebastian watching Chris' big hands as they wrap around a cold bottle, Chris watching Seb's lips and throat as he takes another shot, throwing it back, they dance, hands everywhere, pushed up under tight, sweat-transparent clothes, grabbing bulging muscles, grinding indecently against each other admist writhing bodies, practically having sex already, and they hookup, world-spinning, sloppy drunk, moaning so loud people on the other side of the wall start shouting and pounding on the drywall, telling them to shut the fuck up, it just makes Seb moan louder (the exhibitionist he is) and Chris laugh, reckless and stupid. And. Get this. They don't recognize each other. They're just acting and dressing so differently from how they normally do. There's nothing to get ahold of. Nothing to recognize. But...

The sex is wildly charged, it's hot, it's too good to give up, they have chemistry, so they're drawn back to each other again and again, back to that fucking place and their recurring, insane parties. How long do you think it'll take before they realize who the other is? What'll it take? 🥴

[littlebunnywitch]

Drizella Headcanons

🟢 💚 🟢 - 💚 🍀 💚 - 🟢 💚 🟢

(I made the Drizella Gif myself <3)

So one of my kins is Drizella - my HC will stem from All 3 Cinderella movies and The Wicked Ones by Robin Benway and just personal preference and thoughts too.

DRIZELLA BASIC HEADCANONS

Drizella and Anastasia don't share the same father. Drizella is a year or two older then Cinderella but Anastasia is a year or two younger then Cinderella.

Anastasia looks just like their mother when she was younger, while Drizella looks just like her father much to her mother's dislike. This lead to Lady Tremaine to favor her youngest daughter often making comments that she was the pretty sister

Her birth name was Ella but it was legally changed when her mother married Cinderella's Father (Richard) since the man didn't want his daughter and Drizella both to be named Ella since she had just lost her mother he didn't think it would be fair for his daughter to have to change her name. Richard suggested Drizella because she reminded him of a freezing drizzle due to the girl's cold and quiet nature.

Drizella had a really rough relationship with Richard. She felt that the man was always comparing her to Cinderella and how much better she was to her. He was good with Anastasia though allowing Ana and Cinderella to have a closer relationship then Drizella could.

She developed a fondness at a young age for reading. Often using books to escape reality. A hobby that her mother didn't approve of since she felt that it had no value for getting a high quality husband.

She grew a short term relationship with a older widowed female scientist/scholar she met by chance one day when her Vocal Teacher (who was trying and failing at training her to sing better) was late; Madame Lambert. She was kind to Drizella when she needed someone in her life, Drizella almost moved away with the woman to become her assistant but it didn’t work out. Her mother found out her plans to runaway with the woman - and her mother gave her a choose. If she left with Madame Lambert she would report the woman for grooming her daughter and claim she witness the woman being indecent with Drizella or she could stay and Madame Lambert would be able to go and teach without any issues. Drizella choose to stay. It was during her grief at loosing the first person she ever felt cared and loved her where she ended up throwing a fit with Cinderella and she rubbed in the girl's face about her dirty status and gave her the name Cinderella. After all it had been her father who renamed her.

She took over most of the work when Cinderella married the Prince due to Anastasia's habit of daydreaming and higher belief in falling in love and marrying falling in line with their mother's desire to marry them off. Which is likely why when her younger sister found the fairy godmother's wand - Her mother decided to make Anastasia the one the prince fell in love with. Ana ended up helping Cinderella marry the Prince again. After that Anastasia was disowned by their mother but Cinderella took her in and the two lived in the castle together.

She choose to stay behind and take care of her aging mother as the oldest daughter she felt like it was her responsibility. Cinderella allowed them to stay living in the Château even though it rightfully belonged to her. As she tried to keep the home livable and food on the table - she found that her new reputation as Princess Cinderella (and a year after the marriage Queen Cinderella)'s ugly wicked stepsister made getting a job hard. So she taken to makes things like clothes, toys, paintings, and other little knickknacks to sell or trade in town with for the things they can’t grow around the Château. While dealing with her mother's abusive nature worsening.

Drizella is half Pooka (her bio father was a Pooka) and over time she developed her more animal-like traits including Pointed elf like ears, clawed paws replacing her feet, and prehensile tail.

4 years after having no connect with either sister. Cinderella and Anastasia attempts to create a new bond with Drizella who is a bit more stand offish and has a preference to being alone from everyone.

Drizella has rather low self-esteem and accepting of other's view of her being the unredeemable wicked ugly step sister. She believes that she is unlovable and feels like that is why shes never fallen in love with anyone (Shes asexual). While she still has a bit of a temper is prone to biting her tongue and taking the abuse from her mother or the village people not wanting to deal with the negative reactions of if she where to snap back. However she sometimes does has a hard time holding back her tantrums and will storm off to not throw a fit in front of others

DRIZELLA AGERE HEADCANONS

Drizella is premaregressior of 10 - 12 year old / Trauma Regressor age range of 3 to 6 year old

Has a preference to flee into the forest near her house when little

Love flowers, and playing in the creek

She makes her own toys including a stuffed Dandy-Lion. But she also sells wooden and knitted toys to make a bit of money to help keep herself and her mother afloat.

Is rather independent as a little but if shes comfortable around a cg (Cinderella or Maleficent is honestly my preferred CG for Drizella)she can be rather bratty and likes to push buttons.

She's most likely to regress after a fight with her mom or a bad trip to the village.

Deals with selective mutism both in and out of headspace - she will growl if non verbal to communicate displeasure or purr when please.

Is more likely to make a mess trying to do something herself then ask for help.

Can be rather immodest at times preferring to wear lighter clothes due to her enjoyment of spending times in the forest or playing in creeks.

Will bite if you try to touch her ears or tail.

SOME DRIZELLA ART

The way I draw Drizella's hair does vary sometimes do it as poofy curls, other times its done as ringlets. I like to believe its dependent on if her hair was in curlers or left to curl naturally.

DANDY-LION THE DANDELION LION

[montywithchildhoodtrauma]

I saw a goddess part 2

The next few weeks after what everyone else called the 'Indecent' went by slowly. Monty had been forced to the confines of his room for about a week, doctors came and went. The word asphyxiation was bounced around and drifted through the crack of Monty's flimsy, broken door. Monty was told that his brain was just trying to comfort him in his final moments, bullshit. Monty knew what he saw, that creature was real, he tried talking to someone about it. Foxy and Puppet laughed in his face and told him to stay away from the ocean until he knew how to swim.

FC asked him if he was going crazy and then asked Monty if he was going to a hospital if he could have Monty's video games. Monty then wondered if Foxy would kill him if FC just so happened to accidentally get pushed into a little basket and thrown into the river for some other town to deal with. He wasn't crazy, why would he remember the goddess so perfectly if he had? Her image was engraved into his memory, clear as day. The one person who toyed with the idea was Lunar.

Though after Monty told the younger what had happened Lunar asked Monty where he learned to tell stories like that. Moon and Sun were the weirdest about the whole thing, Moon told him over and over to just stop talking about 'her'. When Monty asked how Moon knew if the creature was a girl Moon grew bright red in frustration and embarrassment and told Monty to stop talking about 'them'.

He knew something.

He knows about them- Her.

And with that Monty was one piece closer to finding more about 'her'.

"W- I don't know what you're talking about" Sun stammered, his hair was frazzled and the metal rays that kept his hair up looked like they were about to fall out. Sun most likely pulled another all nighter the night before, Monty could sympathize, buuut at the moment she was interrogating the lanky fucker.

"Come on Sunny boy, we both know yer' full 'o shit" Monty growled, she grinned as the taller ran around the table, trying to get away from the absolute wall of stubbornness and spite. Monty leaned against the table.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about! Who's SHE!?" Sun wailed in frustration, backing up slightly as Monty rounded the table slowly, almost in a playful sort of way, the ax strapped to her belt said otherwise but lets not focus on that-

"The girl I saw in the water" Monty huffed, grabbing one of the tiny plastic chairs and tossing it near Suns head.

"Are- are you still on that?!" Sun threw his hands up in exasperation, "The doctors said that she doesn't exist, shes something your brain came up wi- ACK! STOP THROWING THINGS AT ME" Sun yelped as a barrel caught him dead in the chest and bounced off.

"Shes real! She fuckin' touched my face!" Monty yelled, grabbing another chair as Sun ran behind the counter.

"MONTY! EARTH ISN'T REAL!" Sun slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes growing wide at his mistake. Monty froze, gaze boring into Suns.

Monty stalked over to the counter and leaned against it, "Wanna run that by me again?" Sun shook his head violently, Scrambling away from the shorter. "Sun~"

"I- didn't say any thing!"

"oooone"

"Sh-should I start running?"

"Two"

"I should start running-"

"GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE YA LILL SHIT-"

___________________________________________________________

@lookwhatyoudidithasanxiety

I did another thing!

[the-archangel]

Moving Day

Kerry was genuinely annoyed at his mainline for agreeing to go into work today of all days, it was such an unaccustomed feeling that he didn’t know what to do with it, and so was throwing the full diva-like force of his status at the already harried removal men.

He wouldn’t’ve minded so much if it had been one of his own gonk ideas, but this was all down to V. After years of being closeted in his airy, glamorous, but ultimately lonely villa, the Rockerboy had finally had his shadows chased away by a young, handsome brat of a merc who had given him the confidence to start again somewhere else with someone else – someone who was markedly absent at the moment and who would be getting an earful the moment he deigned to finally appear.

He hadn’t even had to think about it very much, after a few drinks and some of the best sex he’d ever had – and that was saying something – V casually shows him the picture of the condo on his tablet asking what he thinks about them, maybe, doing it together and Kerry agreed on the spot. They might not have known each other for even a year yet, but the heart wants what it wants and his heart wanted V, for however long they had left.

The merc already pretty much lived with him anyway. Within a couple of weeks of becoming inputs Kerry found his wardrobe space being taken over and the cupboard he used to use for old trinkets and memorabilia inexplicably full of weaponry. Despite his current temper, he smiles thinking about how he and V had immediately been comfortable around each other, how he found himself yearning for his company after only a few hours apart and how neither felt a bit of embarrassment about being caught in a fond look, or in their frequent and sometimes close to indecent PDA’s.

It was coming up to an hour later than V had promised to be back, everything had been pretty much packed and ready to (mostly) go into storage or get moved into the condo for days, so all Kerry could really do was watch as sheet-wrapped furniture and crates were moved from place to place ultimately finding their way into an AV currently fucking up the lawn. All he was really taking – apart from personal stuff – was his guitars and the marble table, he loved that table. It was the first thing he’d bought to put into the villa and it was one of the few things he’d chosen himself. Apart from that, everything else would be new, new furniture, new tech, new art – bye bye Samurai, new start.

V isn’t answering his messages and Kerry is getting even more pissed off, not sure why he’s even hanging around here he stalks to his car and throws himself into the driver’s seat, thumping the steering wheel with the heels of both hands as the door closes. Let V deal with whatever the shit is going on when he finally gets here, Kerry’s had enough, he floors the accelerator and skids out of the gates of villa Eurodyne for the last time towards Little China and his asshole of a merc mainline.

His nerves are jangling in the elevator up to the penthouse, he’s not worried that he’s making a mistake, heck he’s never been worried about that even when he should’ve been, but it’s a big thing starting over at his age, a lot to take in and it would be a lot easier if V was here to offload onto. He could see on the journey over that the AV had beaten him to it, so as the doors open he’s imagining a scene of chaos in the apartment and not the calm, flower filled oasis that he actually walks into. The table has been laid out with real sushi and good red wine, every available surface is covered with the most intoxicatingly fragranced blooms, and there in the middle of it all is the recent object of his ire, smiling so wide that his dimples line his cheeks.

For once, the Rockerboy is speechless. He stands open mouthed and wide eyed allowing himself to be herded into the centre of the room and to be held in V’s strong arms, “Welcome home Ker,” he rumbles, nuzzling into his silver hair. That’s the moment Kerry realises that home is wherever V is and nothing is ever going to take that away from him,  whatever the cost.

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

(ouma anon) Oh BOY do i have a fic wherein they want to get this robot beetle toy but not just the standard ones but the ones being displayed, limited editions that they weren't able to preorder

miu handles the equipment, kiibo is actually the one stealing surprisingly (he shoves the boxes into gonta's hair)

gonta is actually the pleasant distraction, big enough to give kiibo a blind spot for the nearby guards, with the cameras disabled by kokichi in their getaway car, they manage to successfully get the boxes in gonta's hair

it's just a bad stroke of luck that the guards notice it gone before kiibo n gonta are out, miu makes a ruckus in another aisle, toppling over something, kokichi gets the voice changer n througb the intercom goes, "there's someone being an indecent nuisance in public display in aisle 3" (thats a lie, miu's in aisle 6 bUT SHE KNOWS THAT WAS TARGETED AT HER)

so they get out, toy beetles in gonta's hair, except, the van they rented (bc who would go to a heist like this with a recognizable car linked to them) was also a key part of evidence or suspected vessel for an illegal dealings

so it's just the funniest fucking car chase because they didn't want any lethal shit over this heist so the police chasing them are just so confused when they get thrown balloon animals—

they get away, shaken by kokichi's maniacal laughter n driving skills but they outrun them and quickly switch vehicles in their check point, kokichi driving the van a few ways away before being picked up by the rest

the police try and get anything from the cameras, even just the face of them.

except.

They're all wearing Horse Masks.

ONE OF THEM WAS WAVING AT THE CAMERA

AHGJDSKFSD I Feel like Gonta would be so conflicted about this though !! Like YES of course he wants this sick beetle but also it's ungentlemanly to steal!! I imagine he was actually against the idea at first, but then the people running this store must've been really really shitty to the point where he was like "....actually lets do it"

I feel like Kokichi actually knows how to drive very well but because he's Kokichi likes to swerve around and jostle the van to make things more interesting and exciting. and he and Miu are throwing CLOWN HAZARDS out the front windows while both Gonta and Kiibo freak out in the back like "if i get caught my whole life is over"

ALSO THE HORSE MASKS GHDSJGJDHSJFK That's hysterical. Could you imagine your store getting raided by three weird strangers in those awful creepy horse masks and they dont even go for the cash register but the collector's display beetle toy? What would you even do

[bronzebtch]

❛  15 .   a  kiss  that  comes  out  of  nowhere .

rhea tries not to be there when he is indecent —

that is, when the maester insists her lord husband, @dastardlydaemon, ought to take a bath. simply, if not to wipe away yesterday's fever sweat, than to give the maester a chance to further inspect the wound. the maester, a greying red-headed old man with splotches of freckles around his hooked nose, by the name maester eugene, has dutifully informed rhea that the wound have finally seemed to close far more properly, and the effects of the infection have reduced significantly overnight. whatever fevers ahead, it would not have been like how it was the past few days.

to say she is relieved would be an understatement — after all, for as notorious of a reputation their marriage had brought forth, she did not intend to be a widow anytime soon.

though, maester eugene is quick to add, the fatigue from fighting off the infection and bouts of fever these nights passed is unlikely to go away anytime soon. i will have to advise the prince shall remain strictly on bedrest until his appetite return, or the wound closes - whichever comes first, milady. rhea, she thinks quite kindly of her, does not correct the maester that she has about of an authority over her husband as any meagre lord who dares defy him. that is, not quite much; not like the authority she has had to assume when she is temporarily the lady of stepstones in place of her husband, the so-called king of the narrow sea.

( some of the men had attempted at calling her queen, but rhea had rolled her eyes, dismissed the title, and sent them away. she will be no queen of a dead land, though most importantly - she will take no more title that will only have her husband accusing her of robbing anything from him. she will not give him anymore reason to throw his hatred of her right at her feet. )

regardless — it is not her intention to have walked in so soon after she knew her husband had just gotten his daily bath and thus, daily inspection. but there he was, in nothing but his breeches, white wet hair falling in rivulets over the expanse of his naked chest. so surprised she was by the sight of him, she didn't pull her eyes too quickly and excuse herself away from the chamber. instead, her eyes land on the barely-healed scars smattering over his shoulder and chest. and the infected wound to add to that. rhea swallows - again, she has to truly take in the fact that her husband is understandably a glorious warrior. such strength, such power, such tenacity to survive — like moss, she thinks dully, just to be purposely bitter when he comes closer, invades upon her vision, and...

he kisses her. suddenly, and squarely. there is no room to deny it; no space where both of them could've played pretend.

and rhea ... she's surprised, mouth falling into an 'O' shape against his own lips — she hasn't kissed him since their wedding day ! — before, gingerly, hesitatingly, then all at once, she moves to reciprocate. not a lot, but enough that she is sure he would've felt the pressure of her returning the kiss. she is careful from treading her hands anywhere near his wounds — no need a repeat of the last few days — settling instead near his hips, but even then, it is feather-like, barely-there. she cannot touch him; she will always feel like she is not welcomed to.

when they part, there is a sigh upon the lady of runestone's lips, before rhea sucks it in between her teeth, tongue darting at the suspicious taste of him. her brown eyes are slow to open, though it does, and it flickers from her lord husband's mouth to his own piercing eyes. she squints, watching him like a hawk, before, in a whisper, rhea lets her question be heard—

❝ you've mistaken me for someone else, milord husband. i'm afraid i am not your whore. ❞

the overwhelming desire to kiss.

[avictimofthejazz]

❛ this your idea of laying low? ❜ (Hannibal to Face)

@iloveitxwhenaplanxcomestogether (Hannibal)

By all accounts, Hannibal’s critique is correct. The club, though certainly better lit then most of its kind, is hard hardly a subtle location for a man to spend his time. Too many people are milling about. Quite a few are on the dance floor, but most of them are in their intimately-lit booths. There are no tables here crowding the area—all the seating arrangements are tucked along the walls in such a way as to promote the smoothest flow for the staff and the greatest amount of privacy for the occupants. A cynical soul might suggest such privacy only leads to illicit dealings of all natures, but not in Efraim’s club. The tiny Filipino might not cut the most imposing figure in San Diego, but he runs an immaculately tight ship. More then a few pimps and drug dealers thought they could use the back booths for their work, only to have a waiter promptly report them to the manager. Within a few minutes, the police were escorting the miscreants out, restoring the dignity and reputation of the Coral Triangle.

Setting his glass back down on the table, Face cannot resist throwing a shadow of Hannibal’s own infuriating grin back at him when the Colonel tracks him down to his booth. “It is if you own almost half of the place, Hannibal.”   Technically, due to his legal situation, Face is a shadow partner but that changes little. He still owns just under forty percent, not enough that he has to worry about ownership duties but enough to ensure his cut of the profits are very comfortable. Efraim and he met as young supply officers in Vietnam, and became good friends. At the time, they kicked around ideas of starting a club together like the ones in Saigon but, with Templeton’s fall from grace, a proper partnership became impossible. That mattered little to Efraim. A few months after Face’s return to LA, while Hannibal’s insane plan for a mercenary team struggled to get off the ground, Efraim tracked him down. They were both on the bricks, but Efraim convinced him to give their idea a chance… The money Face could afford to front turned out to be almost forty percent of the down-payment for the tiny basement Efraim found, while Efraim and his wife got the other sixty percent together. That had been over ten years ago though, and now the Coral Triangle enjoyed a stellar reputation as one of San Diego’s most exclusive clubs, with strenuous expectations placed on all parties involved… even the con artist financier who helped get it off the ground, and his friends.

Sighing, Face gestured at the seat across from him. “You better sit down… someone’s bound to notice you looming over my table like that. And thank you for putting on a suit this time—Efraim takes his dress code seriously.  It’s why he normally makes you guys come in through the back.” Pouring a glance of wine for Hannibal from the bottle on his table, he sets it in its place at the offered seat. “Now, if you have to know, I was laying low at the Alvin Brenner apartment in Oceanside. I have to use it sometimes, or it’ll look suspicious. Even jet-setting stockbrokers have to come home and check the mail eventually. I popped by Efraim’s house this afternoon to drop off a birthday present for his youngest daughter, and he asked me to come by here tonight. He didn’t want to discuss it in front of his girls, but it’s something about a regular member he’s not happy with. He wants to see if I can help him do something about it.” Face’s other contribution to the club, besides money, is his knack for getting dirt on people, which helps Efraim find grounds to ban rich but undesirable guests. More then a few elites found themselves barred due to their taste in underage dates, a tendency to use cocaine in the bathrooms, or other immoral and indecent behaviors they tried to keep under wraps. Picking up his own glass, Face impatiently waits for Hannibal to take his seat as he scans the room for his friend. Ephraim is more a blur then a person on Friday nights, but he still manages to greet all of his favorite guests by name and have a chat with them. Face spots him working his way back to the back booth Face usually claims when he visits.

“There’s Ephraim.” He inclines his head, “And since you’re here, he can tell both of us about his problem. It might prove interesting.”

[punkscowardschampions]

Tancy Pt.3

Teddy: [when you’ve clearly bit your tongue about all this and his ow sort of noise is giving hers from before but way more indecent ‘look what you made me do’ sticking it out not only so she can see it’s all puffy and ridiculous but also to let all his spit fall and hit her wherever it is going to depending where her face and head are positioned at the time with no fucks given to the carnage that’ll cause]

Nancy: [pouting up at him so big, letting his spit fall all over your face and hair before you’re quickly kissing his tongue better, at first doing the quick pecks you would do, pinching his tongue as far out of his mouth as you can, holding it in place before your pecks turn into more extra kisses before you are washing your tongue over his, finally letting go with your fingers so you can suck it into your mouth as hard as you can, still maintaining pouty eye contact like is that better?]

Teddy: [we all know damn well he’s giving her heart eyes the entire time but they are never bigger than when he bites her tongue the first chance he gets, in retaliation as if it was only all her fault he did his and nothing to do with him, unable to not start moving again when he has because of whatever reaction he gets in response] 

Nancy: [when the little cry you do is as needy as the way you bounce yourself, purposefully lowering yourself directly onto his knee so it hits harder, can pretend you’re moving away from him because he bit you but you can see in the EYE CONTACT being maintained that we’re obsessed with it]

Teddy: [we love to see it all, not to mention hear that, hold onto her so she doesn’t fall off this knee while you’re both wilding out with it because really gotta do the most as soon as she’s there and that idea is in both their heads, catch him also fully spitting into her mouth as hard as he can from the distance there is, as if he’s really launched his head back and entered a spitting contest with the force of it he’s trying to give, without actually moving anywhere but closer]

Nancy: [when you throw your own head back to MOAN that dramatically about this, the way the spit is literally going to be gargling in your mouth before you’re letting it run out, smearing it over your face in a similar fashion to how you licked his, all the while absolutely dying over how this new position feels ‘this is a new game’ as something you eventually get out, disjointed from the erratic breathing and noises you’re holding back just about]

Teddy: [living for the entire spectacle, obvs, holding her face so dramatically when it’s all spitty and gross because you absolutely have to, stroking her throat with as much !! like she needs help to swallow or get the words out or breathe when really again you just wanna spread this around further, holding it too when you’re sure she’s finished her sentence, to feel what she isn’t saying and the noises she’s trying to keep in ‘I’d hate for you to want to stop playing’ like gotta keep these games new and fresh and you both interested, which is true in fairness]

Nancy: [nodding as a way to further how he’s holding your throat, with how hard you’re writhing, it’s going to be the only way he’s holding you and you’re about that and the precariousness of it all, obviously ‘I don’t’ because not what we were saying even when we had every intention of walking out the door and not ending up here again]

Teddy: [thank god it’s not easy to accidentally kill someone by choking them to death because he’s only holding her throat harder about this as if she said she gotta leave rn immediately because can’t help but be THRILLED that she doesn’t want to and hence we’re losing control a little bit, I say as if y’all weren’t already out of control haha, but he’s all about keeping her right here and exactly this feral]

Nancy: [wouldn’t complain even if we could and that’s being made so obvious with the heart eyes we’re giving you, even if our face is an absolute red mess, we care not, putting our hand over his in the way we did earlier like remember this]

Teddy: [as much as I’d love for you to deal with some actual consequences for once in your life hun killing this gal is not how, just live your best lives, nobody is dying today, not literally anyway, put her other hand on your crotch for that reminder as well though cos it’s fine if you die in that sense]

Nancy: [there’s plenty opportunities for both of you to get into perilous situations because of your unhinged behaviour but we won’t choose right now lol, not when we have to do the most to once again be touching you so indecently whilst not actually undressing you sufficiently so you’re being killed by that as well]

Teddy: [not with a murder, you’re both welcome, we’ve actually been so kind to y’all tonight that we should probably think of a way to cockblock that isn’t someone coming in which we’ve already done, maybe her boyfriend could ring her as she’s forgotten about him?]

Nancy: [that’s a good idea and you did tell him you’d be coming to see him so he’ll be chasing that up with all that machismo and his friends backing him up, joy of joys lol, and he really would have to blow your phone up because you’d happily ignore him otherwise and we all know it but when he won’t stop calling, his next step is to likely come back so you have to answer and stop]

Teddy: [^^ it tracks because I’m sure you’ve both ignored your phones plenty at plenty of other points during tonight and would try to ignore hers again for as long as you could but clearly it’s getting to a level where you can’t despite how distracted you are and therefore you’ve realised it must be him and there is a real possibility he might appear, oh how frustrated and fuming they’ll be but I had to do it to them, can’t have this going too far lads, hooking up is a no until the future I’m soz, Teddy will be trying to drag her under this bed by her ankles for that nod to earlier like no no let’s just hide and carry on but you cannot I’m afraid and her prioritising this shit bf will encourage him to make the gf his actual gf which likewise needs to happen so]

Nancy: [oh the awkwardness of this being the death throes of this relationship for you and this is all for nothing but alas, you’re not after getting caught and absolutely not by this man who would have every reason to tell everyone, the way you have to run and totally dip from this party right now, such fun]

Teddy: [we get it girl, everyone calling you a nonce would not be fun, by which I mean jemily, Teddy absolutely refuses to get it and will be livid haha, bet she regrets being so covered in spit now, huh? I hope for your sake it’s raining on this June night in London so you don’t have to deal with your bf being like um wtf]

Nancy: [me hoping that whatever pub they’re in is far enough you can warrant getting a car there because then you’ll have time to somewhat fix the state of yourself here but truly who knows]

Teddy: [tbf she could get a car there even if it was round the corner cos she is that bitch, this bf is not to know how long it has taken her and why, she’s been partying and was hard to get hold of, idk what state you’re expecting babe]

Nancy: [mhmm, not saying you’re stupid but you’re clearly not that observant, any jealousy and accusations about why she might have taken so long will have come from you being egged on by your friends]

Teddy: [there’s a lot of boys who aren’t that observant or that smart so you aren’t alone hun, me like, Teddy are you gonna go home/take this girl home in a sulk or stay here until the bitter end because both are valid moods]

Nancy: [both valid, me just debating when I should have her come at him awkwardly to say sorry without saying it because what a place to leave things]

Teddy: [let us say you stay here til the bitter end to be different from your diva storm out last time, it’s absolutely NOT that you’re hoping to wait it out until she comes home and see her, NOPE, it goes without saying that if by some miracle his gf is still here with her fiends and has not left he will be fucking her on Nancy’s bedroom floor because she is a blatant stand in now and forever]

Nancy: [me like lol where do you think he’s been queen, god bless, know he’s not your boyfriend like that yet but still, just reappearing so suddenly and all over you, am going to have to make you go to your boyfriends to avoid y’all seeing each other again, just to be mean, this party not ending until the flatmate finally shows, whoever she may be]

Teddy: [at least we can give you the benefit of the doubt of saying you were more out of it than tancy were when he left and used to these kinds of messy parties where people just vanish and reappear with a wild story or not at all cos very real, even if you’re also not that smart or observant too, as long as you’re hot so he can say he’s with you for your looks and rich so you aren’t beneath him it’s fine, when you wait AND wait for Nancy to reappear and she doesn’t and you know what that means for where she is so you’re like okay gotta gf up this girl now, fantastic]

Nancy: [can’t wait for you to catch wind of that, girl, along with your flatmate being pissy with you for throwing and then leaving a party unattended, just in the best mood lmao, I will come at him, giving flimsy excuse next morning vibes]

Teddy: [go for it girl, can’t believe we’re over 30 pages again]

Nancy: Do you happen to know what happened to [something your friend owns/in her room, giving it’s horrifically broken vibes]?

Teddy: It doesn’t ring a bell as something I’ve ever seen, even in 1 piece

Nancy: I did try to say no one would be invested as she is… my hunt for the culprit continues then

Teddy: Try [someone we’re shading as having bad taste/being invested cos they fancy her flatmate/something to that effect] 

Nancy: Thanks, worth a shot

Teddy: No problem, darling

Nancy: Hope you have a less shit day at work

Teddy: Naturally, I’m not going

Nancy: Too hungover

Teddy: Please, I’m not old enough for hangovers, it’s the rest of your crowd losing their touch, moi EXCLUDED

Nancy: They make a great excuse nonetheless

Teddy: My father doesn’t need them, unlike you, I know when & how to mute a contact

Nancy: If your head is hurting that bad, I’ll leave you to your [whatever headache cure we’re touting that is probably hair of the dog esque]

Teddy: It isn’t, but apparently it makes a fantastic excuse nonetheless

Nancy: You’re welcome for the hot tip

Teddy: Thanks, you’re welcome to blame & bill me for the damage

Nancy: Don’t be silly, why would I do that

Teddy: Why wouldn’t you? It shuts her up & ends your search for whoever did her the real interior design favour, I only wish I had

Nancy: And you’re sure you didn’t?

Teddy: Absolutely

Nancy: Then it’s not your problem to fix

Nancy: don’t worry

Teddy: [send her the amount this thing costs because you’ve looked it up clearly]

Teddy: It’s fixed

Nancy: I don’t get why you would do that

Teddy: Clearly, but you’re far from alone when SO much of what you do is a giant mystery to me

Nancy: What have I done?

Teddy: I was speaking in generalities

Nancy: Too big a word for me, unfortunately

Teddy: That is unfortunate

Nancy: Tell me about it

Teddy: [tell her some goss from the party that isn’t about you or anything you care about, but it’s maintaining the facade of how you would usually talk]

Nancy: Everything always happens when I leave

Teddy: Perhaps take that as a sign

Nancy: If by sign you mean an insult, I have

Teddy: I meant an indication, but that’s probably too big of a word for you as well

Nancy: Indication of what, that I’m boring?

Teddy: It’s hardly my place to say

Nancy: [send him the money back like no it isn’t]

Teddy: [send it straight back]

Nancy: Oh my God

Nancy: I am not buying her a new [whatever this is, we do not care girl lol]

Teddy: Don’t then

Nancy: Don’t you waste your money

Teddy: If you’re going to do an impression of my sister, fully commit

Nancy: I doubt either of us has the time for that roleplay

Teddy: Find time to go shopping, for all I care

Nancy: I won’t bother telling you what I buy as you care so little 

Teddy: As you wish

Nancy: You’re being strange, not the good kind

Teddy: You’re busy, allegedly 

Nancy: Only with this mindless errand, as I assumed you would be too but my mistake

Teddy: Of all the mistakes to own up to

Nancy: What was I meant to do?

Teddy: What’s the point in asking me now?

Nancy: Don’t act like I could at the time

Teddy: You didn’t at the time, don’t act like you want my input any more in the cold light of day

Nancy: I had to go or he was going to come back, there wasn’t a discussion to be had, I thought that was obvious

Teddy: Go, not stay

Teddy: I thought breakups are famously quick instead of something you pull an all-nighter for

Nancy: He had a lot to say

Nancy: hence the phonecalls that meant you’d be gone whenever I got back

Teddy: Except I wasn’t, Nance

Nancy: You weren’t

Teddy: No discussion to be had here either

Nancy: Come on, I didn’t know you would stay

Teddy: I shouldn’t have

Nancy: You were having a good time without me, it’s not like you wasted your evening

Teddy: I never waste an evening

Nancy: So no need for regret

Teddy: Of course not

Nancy: Stop being moody with me when you know I’ve had a terrible evening then, it’s rude

Teddy: It’s your own fault

Nancy: That doesn’t mean you can’t feel sorry for me, that’s what friends are for

Nancy: who was nice to you when you had a shitty day

Teddy: I didn’t do anything wrong, it was easier for you to play nice

Nancy: It’s never easy for me to play nice

Teddy: Liar

Nancy: Ask anyone

Teddy: I have plenty of examples springing to mind without resorting to a Q&A

Nancy: That wasn’t playing nice

Teddy: Yes it was

Nancy: It’s not my fault if I’m not very good at playfighting

Teddy: You will choose boyfriends who waste their stamina throwing rugby balls around & having long showers together, how do you expect to get any better?

Nancy: I suppose that makes it a hate crime if I tell everyone that’s why we broke up, when he seals the deal

Teddy: You can tell them it’s because my dead grandmother could accidentally land a more painful punch the next time I make her turn in her grave?

Nancy: 😅 a somewhat traumatising visual but I like it

Teddy: [a rugby result whereby her bf’s team lost pathetically] isn’t surprising with him [in whatever position he plays], you could score in your [most ridiculous shoes she owns] before he or any of his friends are troubling anyone with their efforts

Nancy: I was going to ask you which one you fancied to be checking the scores but perhaps it’s someone on [the other team]?

Teddy: It was, but he’s less impressive off the pitch

Nancy: how relatable…

Nancy: I’m switching genres, I’m over rugby players

Teddy: Good for you

Nancy: Thank you

Nancy: as long as I get a new boyfriend before him, I win the breakup regardless

Teddy: Unlucky for you he already has [however many players are on a rugby team] boyfriends 💔

Nancy: Ha ha

Teddy: It’s very funny they’re seemingly unaware of what’s staring them in the face, I agree

Nancy: Not everyone is gay, sorry to say

Nancy: anyway, stop talking about him, you’ll depress me

Teddy: Retail therapy awaits you, remember?

Nancy: That was nice of you, even if you were buying my silence

Teddy: I’m under no illusion you’re capable of silence

Nancy: 😲😤😶

Teddy: Charades? But Christmas is months away

Nancy: 😈📝

Teddy: I do hope so

Teddy: Krampus obviously knows how to have a good time

Nancy: I lack the emojis for that conversation

Teddy: A tragedy

Nancy: You should bring it up with the next tech bro you meet

Teddy: Bold of you to assume I ever get a word in

Nancy: Ooh la la

Teddy: I meant because the only thing those bores do is talk your ear off about their ‘achievements’ & ‘goals’ 🥱

Nancy: Sadly I am all too aware, not who to go for until you’re ready to settle down and be disgustingly rich

Teddy: I am disgustingly rich, thank you

Nancy: You can always be more disgusting, duh

Teddy: Without needing to settle down or for anyone 

Nancy: Not even for half in the divorce?

Teddy: My brother can have the pleasure

Nancy: A kid each

Teddy: & G’s set for widow, there’s just happily married or eternally single remaining on the board

Nancy: You’ve made the right choice then, put like that

Teddy: I’d be a fool to attempt the former

Nancy: Tell me about it

Teddy: When they’re back from holiday, I’m sure I’ll have lots to tell you

Nancy: You must win Chlo back so she confides in you

Nancy: your brother is too smart for that

Teddy: I’m almost bored at the thought of how simple that’ll prove

Nancy: That is the effect she has, yes

Teddy: I have 0 clue how you were friends with her for years

Nancy: She’s easy to manipulate, and she makes pretty poor decisions without any need for my control, which could be amusing

Teddy: Still, other amusements must have been thin on the ground

Nancy: Everyone was more amusing than they are now, I suppose

Teddy: OR you were more easily entertained

Nancy: you’re going to make a case for my standards being higher now, are you?

Teddy: You’re right, I can’t

Teddy: how awkward

Nancy: I’ve never claimed otherwise, I’m bored most of the time, you know that

Teddy: Life is & we’re supposed to be content with that according to my family

Nancy: They would say that, awkward is right

Teddy: Which is why they’re muted

Nancy: that’s the only reason, is it

Teddy: What other reasons would there be?

Nancy: Not for me to say

Teddy: Okay, shh

Nancy: Don’t you want to talk about it?

Teddy: Talk about what?

Nancy: Your own dubious taste

Teddy: My taste is fantastic

Nancy: Okay

Teddy: Kindly go back to 😲😤😶

Teddy: maybe you’ll make more sense

Nancy: 💩👅🤡

Teddy: Ha ha

Nancy: 😷🤒

Teddy: Really? Because you sound jealous

Nancy: Of what?

Teddy: Exactly, stop being ridiculous

Nancy: I’m not!

Nancy: I have no idea what you’re talking about

Teddy: Okay

Nancy: Prick

Teddy: You started it

Nancy: And what

Teddy: & here are the consequences you’re always SO eager for

Nancy: Shut up, it’s not that serious

Teddy: A second ago you didn’t have the slightest idea what I was talking about

Nancy: Whatever, if you don’t want to be friends, we don’t have to be

Teddy: Suits me perfectly

Nancy: So glad I took time out of my day for you yesterday

Teddy: The first & last occasion you’ll be required to

Nancy: Doesn’t make it any less of a waste of my time but thanks

Teddy: Mine either, at least we’re even

Nancy: I really didn’t expect this from you

Teddy: Surprise! 

Nancy: Predictably dull

Teddy: Effort is for people I deem worthy of it, you know that

Nancy: Yes, how cute, as I said, you really are the first person to get a partner and feel the need to prove how loyal they are by cutting me out

Teddy: I waited the entire night for you, that’s how loyal I was

Teddy: watching the door like an idiot, thinking you’d care to come back

Nancy: I couldn’t!

Nancy: and if I had you would have been too busy anyway so what good would it have done me

Teddy: You cut me out first, how dare you try & turn it around

Nancy: You’ll never know now, you made your choice

Teddy: You made yours & he’ll be sick of you before my half term’s over, I’m being wildly generous giving days plural

Nancy: I had a boyfriend the entire time, he’s never been relevant

Teddy: He’s relevant when you choose him

Nancy: Actually, you’ve made my choice for me, I was way off

Nancy: you’re not mature enough to handle this, obviously, my bad

Teddy: You made a fool of me, I’m not doormat enough

Teddy: wrong brother, darling

Nancy: You’re a spoiled brat, is what you are

Nancy: why would you expect to be prioritised, for what?

Teddy: Look how soon your friend speech falls flat

Nancy: You don’t want to be, then we’re not

Teddy: I don’t want to be treated like that

Teddy: For what? Who?

Nancy: You saw me treat other people like that

Nancy: and I you

Teddy: No, you’re ashamed of me like I’m an immigrant pool cleaner or something

Nancy: You haven’t had your 16th yet, you have to understand that

Teddy: It’s [however long away it is, cos not far is what we’ve said so we can do it in this era sometime soon]

Nancy: I mean, legality is sorted but apart from that

Nancy: you know what people would call me

Teddy: I’ve fixed that too, no one is going to call you a thing now & you don’t need to see me before it’s legally appropriate to do so, or indeed, ever again, if you prefer

Nancy: You’ve made your feelings clear

Teddy: As have you

Nancy: You can’t handle being a secret, just so you don’t lead anyone else on by mistake in future, you should know

Teddy: I know myself & I’m not changing for you

Teddy: which is just as well, because I can’t magically become older

Nancy: I never asked you to

Teddy: You didn’t ask anything, you fucking walked out

Nancy: To save you getting punched in the other eye

Nancy: sorry that makes me an awful person, for giving a shit 

Teddy: That one wouldn’t hurt either, he’s awful at it, I told you

Nancy: It was going to be rather more of a group affair, his friends having spent all that time talking about what a prick you are

Nancy: why are you surprised it took me damn near all night to talk him off that idea, because it wasn’t all that secret, that’s why, it was too obvious

Teddy: I’d go to hospital at worst, it would be a longer holiday

Nancy: You can take all the holiday you want, don’t give me that

Teddy: Don’t give me a damsel in distress label, I’d be fine

Nancy: What kind of person would I be to let you get beat up

Teddy: You went there because you need everyone to think that you’re still with him, that you want to be, you didn’t do it for me specifically 

Nancy: It certainly wouldn’t hurt me avoiding the accusations

Nancy: you can read the messages if you want, I’m not lying

Teddy: If I was in the mood to read I’d be revising

Nancy: and I’m not lying, obviously they wanted to beat you up

Teddy: I remember

Nancy: You were purposefully insufferable

Teddy: At least it was my intention, they manage without trying

Nancy: I’m yet to be included in that ‘they’?

Teddy: I’ll gladly keep you two as a ‘we’ if that’s what you want, forgetting I’m aware you have any personality of your own

Nancy: As you kindly pointed out, any attempts at having that cover for myself were pretty futile

Teddy: We don’t both need one, as long as one of us has

Nancy: You think

Nancy: because I doubt anyone expects you to be loyal to [this gal], respectfully

Teddy: Perhaps I deserve that, but nevertheless, mean

Nancy: You’re sweet

Teddy: I can make myself appear loyal to her, to the point of having no doubters whatsoever

Nancy: Perhaps you can

Teddy: & you can get a new boyfriend

Nancy: Of course

Teddy: I overreacted, a little

Nancy: I am sorry that you waited, I don’t like to think of it

Teddy: I thought you were… I don’t even like to finish that sentence

Nancy: Don’t then, let’s not talk about it any more

Teddy: It isn’t being a secret, it’s the word no

Nancy: I understand, I wouldn’t call myself fond either, who is, when they want a yes

Teddy: I felt stupid & too vulnerable

Nancy: I swear I didn’t mean for you to

Teddy: But you’re capable of doing it, how disgusting is that?

Nancy: I see your point

Nancy: you’re hardly incapable, I feel like shit

Teddy: Do you?

Nancy: Yes, you were SO mean

Teddy: I had to be

Nancy: You did a pretty good job

Teddy: Thanks, alas my CV won’t reflect my true talents 

Nancy: Best start revising, right

Teddy: A revision of this conversation

Nancy: I would consider it a better use of your time but you did want me to be your sister earlier so

Teddy: YOU were determined to be

Nancy: I was meant to be nicer than her

Teddy: You have your moments, which is more than she has

Nancy: Still

Nancy: could do better

Teddy: Still, I’ll carry on waiting

Nancy: I wish I’d stayed

Teddy: But you couldn’t

Nancy: No, it would’ve ended bad for all of us

Teddy: I do understand

Teddy: however stubbornly I may have pretended otherwise

Nancy: I like how stubborn you are

Nancy: more when it’s working in my favour but can’t pick and choose

Teddy: You can, I’ll behave accordingly

Nancy: that is a nice thought

Teddy: I’ll be good

Nancy: Please tell me you’re alone and not with her like I feared

Teddy: I was for a while, but I promise she’s gone

Nancy: Whether I should trust that is up for debate but I still want to talk to you

Teddy: [send her a pic of you which doesn’t really prove you’re alone properly but you just want to anyway, getting the bruise in which is all her handiwork and not her bf’s]

Nancy: 🥺 your poor, poor face

Teddy: I know

Nancy: I really didn’t show any consideration whilst we were together, I get why that sounded false in hindsight

Teddy: I have no complaints in hindsight regarding what I was shown

Nancy: [send him a picture of the lovebite on your thigh]

Teddy: 🥺 I neglected the other side

Nancy: Playing favourites

Teddy: Your [whichever side it is, left or right] is especially incredible, true

Teddy: I’m as fond of the [other] though, having considered it

Nancy: It really happened, I would be fond of an unlimited amount of reminders of that fact, however they were presented to me

Teddy: I may keep last night’s outfit on until such a time, personally 

Nancy: You do look insanely handsome

Teddy: I wish I had a wardrobe consisting of pieces you’d decided on

Nancy: Fuck

Nancy: Let me spend the money you sent me on you?

Teddy: [send her some more, just cos]

Teddy: & that

Nancy: I know what I’m going to get you

Teddy: Let me guess, no spoilers?

Nancy: My lips are sealed

Teddy: Open them

Nancy: [a shameless selfie, wherever the hell you are now, doing as much]

Teddy: I’ve missed you so much

Nancy: I miss you more

Nancy: don’t ever say you don’t want to be my friend again

Teddy: I won’t, I really need a friend like you

Nancy: Better friend than enemy, I promise

Teddy: Perhaps I’ll ignore the saying & keep you closer anyway

Nancy: People don’t know what they’re talking about

Nancy: but I know how I feel when I’m close to you

Teddy: It’s undeniable

Nancy: I can’t deny myself any more than I can deny you

Teddy: Can’t & won’t

Nancy: I’ll behave too, exactly as you wish

Teddy: Then I’m happy now

Nancy: Show me

Teddy: [do, I hope you’re at home because being indecent regardless clearly with no fucks given, so a clothed pic of how turned on he is, as a reminder of when she was touching him before we cockblocked]

Nancy: 😁😁😁

Teddy: Show me

Nancy: [send him your deranged heart eyes]

Teddy: & smile

Nancy: [again, nothing to see here]

Teddy: [send her your hottest hot lol]

Nancy: Are you being nice or are you being mean, it could be both

Teddy: It’s both because you want both

Nancy: Badly

Nancy: it’s obscene

Teddy: I’ll send extra money to clean up [the shop or shops we’re guessing she’s headed to for this shopping spree]’s floors

Nancy: I am upset you aren’t here to pin me to it first

Nancy: very, actually

Teddy: You’d lose focus & I’d have nothing to wear

Teddy: literally, when this outfit is totally ruined by you taking out your upset on it

Nancy: but you like it, you like the reminder it left you, the ability to remember me whilst you’re still wearing it

Teddy: Which is why I asked for more, clothes, reminders, memories, everything 

Nancy: Best stop distracting me then, boy, so I can get them all for you

Nancy: without getting kicked out of [the shops we plan to go to, to show you how many you got right with your guess]

Teddy: You said you want to talk to me

Nancy: And I do

Nancy: but is your mind so truly one-track, I wonder…

Teddy: Spending the night with your soon-to be ex blessed solely with a single shared brain cell is no reason to doubt me

Nancy: I’m certainly not going to miss his conversation, thankfully I don’t have to pretend that

Teddy: How exhausting

Nancy: You have no idea, darling

Nancy: no girl could ever be as dull, you’re so fortunate

Teddy: Boys don’t have to be, it’s your terrible taste

Nancy: I wish that were true

Teddy: It is

Nancy: Maybe gays are a tad more interesting, again, all your luck

Teddy: We can’t be friends if you’re going to mope the entire time

Nancy: I’m not

Nancy: my heartbreak is fresh, you have to allow me at least a fortnight of drinking about it, if you’re any kind of friend

Teddy: I refuse to allow you to be heartbroken over him

Nancy: then how are you going to cheer me up, bestie?

Teddy: A fortnight’s worth of drinking in 1 night, if you insist

Nancy: I really do

Teddy: [name her fave bar or club as a suggestion because of course you just know that nbd]?

Nancy: When are you sending a car?

Teddy: When you’ve finished shopping, have you?

Nancy: No, I’m having too much fun

Nancy: and I had to come from [wherever this boyfriend lives for uni because you purely want to tell him so he shades it even though there’s nothing wrong with it, giving rich boy pretending to not be for the uni experience as they are want to do]

Teddy: I’ve changed my mind, I don’t wish to be seen with you if anyone has seen you in [wherever that place is, when it’s clearly not the slum he’s pretending it is haha]

Nancy: Rude!

Nancy: you know that no one YOU know has ever stepped foot in [this location]

Teddy: You wouldn’t have agreed had I suggested [somewhere his friends always go and thus we are shading as being beneath her], I do possess more than a singular brain cell

Nancy: I can’t believe you’re passing on an opportunity to ask me what it’s like getting back to my roots

Teddy: I’d adore the opportunity to be able to say I can’t believe you’re slumming it in [this location] for someone like that, but I wholeheartedly can & do

Nancy: Why?

Teddy: Your famously low standards

Nancy: Ha

Teddy: Who’s next?

Nancy: I haven’t decided yet, I don’t rush these things

Teddy: What about [the biggest pisstake of the most unsuitable person he can think of]?

Nancy: If you’re rethinking your own decision, there’s still time

Teddy: I’m not

Nancy: then I’m not taking suggestions from you

Teddy: But [some other pisstakey suggestion] is OBSESSED with you

Nancy: You’re obsessed with me, shut up

Teddy: You’re sulking again, you brought her up, don’t if it’s going to make you 💔

Nancy: I’m shopping, not sulking

Teddy: Multitasking, well done

Nancy: [stop replying, in a totally non-sulky manner lol]

Teddy: Oh come on

Nancy: Do you need something?

Teddy: You loathe time alone, why put yourself through it?

Nancy: You’re not my only option for company

Teddy: I’m the best option

Teddy: or you wouldn’t be this jealous about the company I’m keeping

Nancy: Don’t confuse pity with jealousy

Teddy: I haven’t

Nancy: Okay, babe

Teddy: I understand, Theo was easily confused, but naming aside, that’s where the similarities end

Nancy: You aren’t special

Teddy: You aren’t convincing anyone, least of all me

Nancy: Your delusion your problem

Teddy: A fantastic slogan for the people of [the place her bf lives that we’ll never stop shading]

Nancy: It’s fine, whilst you’ve been going on and on, I’ve had time to think who I want next

Teddy: Who’s it to be?

Nancy: I’d rather see if you guess

Teddy: [do some silly guesses while you think about it seriously]?

Nancy: 🙄🥱🤢

Teddy: My thoughts exactly when you confirm it’s [a correct guess, because why not, they think alike, I can believe he’s capable of it]

Nancy: [me here like well it’s your brother so would you actually guess that because she has no chance lmao hence we’re not telling you]

Nancy: What’s wrong with [his guess, who clearly is who it will end up actually being]?

Teddy: [me CACKLING, because imagine, you’ve been there and tried that girl, your brother cockblocked you then hun and your sister is now so good luck, but love that he’s clearly picked whatever dude it is going to be and is thus giving her an actual true tea list of everything he thinks is wrong with this man, don’t mind us being salty as per usual]

Nancy: but he [and list everything you think is right which is undoubtedly shallow and materialistic, duh]

Teddy: He & most of Chelsea

Nancy: So it doesn’t matter

Teddy: Your future boyfriend, your future headache

Teddy: none of it matters to me

Nancy: You’re all the same to me

Teddy: As you’re desperate to point out

Nancy: I wouldn’t want you to get ideas

Teddy: Because you can’t say no to my ideas

Nancy: It was always my idea, so what are you talking about?

Teddy: You haven’t had a good idea of your own since [something so long ago and not a big thing, a little thing, because I’ve always gotta give away how long he’s been interested and how observant he is of everything she does, even while shading her]

Nancy: UM excuse me, whose parties were they

Nancy: you are so welcome for your little meet-cute

Teddy: You’re hardly [someone who throws Elton John style amazing parties but for this era]

Nancy: I don’t live with my parents, that one-ups you by default, child

Teddy: Yours don’t want you under their roof, it isn’t the flex you think it is

Nancy: Neither is your weird mother so don’t be rude

Nancy: I wouldn’t dream of living at home

Teddy: I’m legally obligated, as you said

Teddy: but I wouldn’t rush to live alone if the effect it has upon me is similar to the one it’s had on you

Nancy: I already said that too, momma’s boy

Teddy: You’d like her

Nancy: I don’t like you anymore

Teddy: Why?

Nancy: You’re being mean

Teddy: You were crueller first, you always are

Nancy: I didn’t say anything

Teddy: Precisely, you’ve been ignoring me, thinking about [this man she’s going to date next]

Nancy: You started that

Teddy: No I didn’t

Nancy: Her socks look ridiculous

Teddy: Well, I’m yet to dress her, it isn’t my fault

Nancy: Ugh

Teddy: Take it up with [whichever designer made those socks], frankly

Nancy: Why would I? The worse everyone else looks the better I do

Teddy: Ditto, not that I need the help

Nancy: Good, you’re not getting any

Teddy: Have you forgotten you’re shopping for me as we speak?

Nancy: No shit, this is getting regifted

Teddy: Nancy

Nancy: Don’t

Teddy: Don’t be like this

Nancy: Fine, maybe I’ll keep it but I have no reason to come see you now

Teddy: Yes you do

Nancy: You should take your girlfriend

Teddy: Fine, if that’s what you want

Nancy: I’m not telling you what to do

Teddy: What I should

Nancy: Why don’t you want to?

Teddy: I’ve already seen her

Nancy: Right

Teddy: Meet me

Nancy: That’s not a good enough reason for me

Teddy: You know what my reasons are

Nancy: I’m not interested in being second choice

Teddy: You aren’t

Nancy: Just start being nice

Teddy: That goes both ways, Nance

Nancy: I was being nice, too nice, if anything

Teddy: So was I

Nancy: I need more [some kind of happy drug, you know the vibes]

Teddy: [send her some more money how you do]

Nancy: I’m avoiding [the dealers that were at your party that you obviously owe money lol]

Nancy: Who else do you know?

Teddy: [tell her because I’m sure you have some different peeps you know cos of your age diff]

Nancy: 😘

Teddy: [when I just know he’s gonna go and see those dealers and pay off her debts without even saying anything, oh sir]

Teddy: You’re welcome, darling

Nancy: [you lowkey don’t deserve it but it’s also very sweet in y’alls way, I’m sure you’ll find out when these men get in contact or you do again]

Teddy: [his appearance is a dead giveaway in his Draco hair era and also who else would, so yeah, I have no doubt you’ll find out at some point]

Nancy: I’ll be nice

Teddy: Once the [drugs] kick in

Nancy: Testing me immediately, I see…

Teddy: I’m just playing

Nancy: I like playing with you

Teddy: That is nice to hear

Nancy: It better be, I’ll be ever so bored if you swear off being the entertainment ever again

Teddy: Me too

Nancy: Don’t get boring

Teddy: That’s your most hurtful comment by far

Nancy: I’m asking you not to, not claiming you have yet

Teddy: I couldn’t possibly, the implication I might is outrageous

Nancy: No one would be more devastated than me

Teddy: I would & I promise not to do it to either of us

Nancy: No, I’d be more, trust me

Teddy: The last thing I want is to truly devastate you

Nancy: Is it?

Nancy: that’s very nice of you, Teddy

Teddy: Of course

Nancy: But what’s the first thing you want?

Teddy: Oh now that would be telling, wouldn’t it?

Nancy: Yes

Teddy: I’m shocked you need to be told

Nancy: Perhaps I just want it

Teddy: Perhaps I’d like you to guess

Nancy: Oh that’s too easy to be fun

Teddy: Humour me, you adore games

Nancy: Very well 

Nancy: You want your gifts, of course

Teddy: & are you going to give them to me?

Nancy: Ask for them nicely and I’ll consider it 

Teddy: Please

Nancy: Please? Try again, try harder

Teddy: Pretty please? 

Nancy: Better

Teddy: So? Will I be rewarded?

Nancy: I said better, not right 

Teddy: 🥺💔

Nancy: I’ll give you another try, best of three is customary 

Teddy: I don’t know how to beg, I’m afraid

Nancy: Spoilsport

Teddy: Quite, but I was just never trained for it

Nancy: Talking about your wealth doesn’t inspire gifting, sugar baby 101 there

Teddy: Paying for them yourself, as I have, makes it redundant anyway, I would think

Nancy: Eugh, see, I don’t want to give you anything now

Nancy: talk of money is so cheap, it’s not the point at all

Teddy: It was you who mentioned money in the first place

Nancy: You, with your acting as if you’re above begging

Nancy: you just haven’t met the right person yet

Teddy: I simply meant that my father wouldn’t be able to stomach me rolling on mine for anyone else, it isn’t a wealth issue

Nancy: I’m sure he does

Teddy: He’s a crawling contradiction, naturally

Teddy: but I don’t do it for him & I genuinely wouldn’t have the slightest clue how

Nancy: Well, there’s no fun in being confined to either role constantly, is there

Nancy: it doesn’t matter, you can have this stuff anyway

Teddy: Keep it, I’ve spoiled yours

Nancy: It’s not that serious

Teddy: Then don’t make such a big deal of it & do as you’re told instead

Nancy: This is all men’s stuff, what will I do with it

Teddy: Buy your new boyfriend, the deal must be sweetened somehow

Nancy: Excuse me

Teddy: You know, like a dowry

Nancy: Are you attempting humour again?

Teddy: It’s a solution as well as being amusing

Nancy: Fuck you

Teddy: You’re so very sensitive today, it’s almost as though you don’t want to think of me when you’re with him

Nancy: Of course I don’t

Nancy: do you think he’s going to want to wear anything you would

Teddy: Why not?

Nancy: Your taste is eclectic, as I’m still being nice

Teddy: My taste is still fantastic, despite how often you keep trying to insist otherwise

Nancy: [this dude] is more manly

Teddy: You’ll hurt my feelings in a minute

Nancy: It’s just factual, your style is more androgynous 

Teddy: His masculinity is that fragile, you mean

Nancy: There’s no need to be offended

Teddy: I’m not, the fact is, I can dress how I want, fuck how & whoever I like, that’s what being a real man is

Teddy: he wishes

Nancy: Okay

Nancy: [his socials] because I don’t know why you’re giving me this rousing speech right now

Teddy: Because your niceness doesn’t last, you’re hoping to upset me again

Nancy: I’m really not but who’s fault would it be if I were

Teddy: Your own

Nancy: It’s yours

Teddy: No it isn’t

Nancy: I don’t need to buy anyone

Teddy: It was a joke

Nancy: Whatever it was, you don’t want them anymore, you’re not getting them, end of conversation

Teddy: You’re impossible

Nancy: You don’t even know what you want

Teddy: A lie, I knew perfectly well, I no longer want it, that’s all

Nancy: That’s what I just said

Teddy: I’m aware of that, I just read it

Nancy: Then don’t call me impossible for it if you’re going to repeat it back to me

Teddy: You are & talking to you also is

Nancy: Then why are you still here?

Teddy: Fantastic point, I’ll be off

Nancy: You’re a prick, you just flipped for no reason

Teddy: No reason you can fathom, obviously

Nancy: Why do you enjoy wasting my time

Teddy: I don’t

Nancy: That’s how it’s starting to feel

Teddy: Don’t worry, I’m going, this afternoon is yours to waste yourself

Nancy: Great, thanks so much

Teddy: [do actually piss off boy, however long that lasts lol]

Nancy: [that went well lads lol]

Teddy: [always a rollercoaster with y’all, never know what we’re gonna get]

Nancy: [me thinking how you’re going to start trying to finesse James when he’s back and DYING, thank god he’d never tell Teddy]

Teddy: [lord, we simply must do a convo between them so we can cackle ourselves to death because of his lack of interest]

Nancy: [it’s so embarrassing but we must because she just would]

Teddy: [do you wanna do that next for funsies? Or is there anyone else we should do first?]

Nancy: [I think we can probably go to that next, y’all will be home soon enough]

Teddy: [post this then boo, as much as I could keep on doing these fools forever we’re almost at another 30 here]

Nancy: [we can always then go back to y’all, whenever you end up talking, it’s whatever we want]

[pesterloglog]

Caliborn, Dirk Strider

Act 6, page 5071-5075

uu: BETTER HuRRY uP.

uu: YOu CAN'T ESCAPE THE MILES.

uu: NO ONE CAN ESCAPE THE MILES!

TT: Why do you keep saying that?

TT: Are you trying to turn it into some sort of Thing?

uu: IT ALREADY IS A THING. INASMuCH.

uu: AS FACTS ARE THINGS.

uu: HERE ARE MORE FACTS THAT ARE THINGS.

uu: YOu ARE GOING TO DIE SOON.

uu: YOuR WHOLE uNIVERSE IS GOING TO DIE.

uu: BECAuSE.

uu: YOu CAN'T.

uu: ESCAPE.

uu: THE MIIIIIIIIIIILES.

TT: Sorry, it's not going to start being a Thing no matter how much you say it. Give it a rest.

uu: NO.

TT: What I don't understand is how the attack is making its way here from Derse.

TT: Is that even possible?

uu: WHAT.

uu: JuST BECAuSE THE SAME THING IS HAPPENING THERE.

uu: YOu THINK THERE IS CORRELATION. BEYOND SOME SORT OF CIRCuMSTANTIALLY SIMuLTANEOuS. FuCKRuBBISH?

uu: YOu'RE SO DuMB.

TT: So, you know why this is happening?

uu: YES.

uu: THESE MILES ARE FROM JACK. WAY OuTSIDE YOuR uNIVERSE.

uu: THE MILES ON DERSE ARE FROM ANOTHER GuY. WHO'S JuST. SITTING IN A CASTLE SOMEWHERE PROBABLY.

TT: That doesn't actually explain a whole lot, but ok.

uu: SOMEONE COMMISSIONED JACK. SORT OF.

uu: PuT OuT A HIT ON YOuR ENTIRE uNIVERSE. AND ALL ITS INTERNAL ITERATIONS.

uu: DON'T YOu THINK THAT'S FuCKING AWESOME?

TT: I thought you didn't know much about our story? You usually like to brag about how you don't care about details like that.

uu: I MAINLY JuST SKIM PAST IT ALL WITH DISGuST. EXCEPT FOR THE PARTS.

uu: WHERE PEOPLE DIE.

uu: I COuLD READ THOSE.

uu: OVER AND OVER.

uu: AND ALSO MAYBE THE PARTS.

uu: WHERE PEOPLE "KISS"?

uu: IN THE WAY THAT WHEN YOu CHANCE uPON SOMETHING.

uu: uNSPEAKABLY AND VISCERALLY ABHORRENT.

uu: IT GETS HARD.

TT: Does it now.

uu: TO PRY YOuR EYES AWAY!

uu: YOu DIDN'T LET ME FINISH.

uu: TO PRY YOuR EYES AWAY.

TT: Oh.

uu: HEY.

uu: WHY ARE YOu GIVING ONE OF YOuR HuMAN "THuMBS uP".

uu: INTO THE SKY.

uu: IS IT AN INDECENT GESTuRE.

TT: I guess you would probably think so.

uu: OH YES.

uu: I THINK IT'S PROBABLY TRuE.

uu: KEEP SHOWING ME THE NASTY.

uu: I DEMAND A STEADY DIET OF RIBALDRY AND. *SHuDDER.*

uu: POIGNANT EXPRESSION.

uu: EITHER KEEP THAT uP.

uu: OR MAKE SuRE THAT.

uu: THE CORPSE PILE.

uu: DOESN'T STOP FROM GETTING TALLER.

uu: OR BOTH. IDEALLY.

uu: BOTH WOuLD BE GREAT.

TT: Your staccato babbling is just so choice today. But I really have to go.

TT: Got to escape all these goddamn miles, remember?

uu: AAH HAA HAA!

uu: YOu CAN'T!

uu: YOu CAAAAAAAAAAAN'T.

uu: ESCAAAAAAAAAAAPE.

TT: The miles. Right.

TT: Bye.

uu: BuT SERIOuSLY. WAIT!

TT: What.

uu: I WANTED TO GIVE YOu SOMETHING. A "PRESENT".

TT: What?

uu: IT'S A TOKEN OF. uH. "THANKS". uGH.

TT: For what?

TT: Can we seriously move this along.

uu: FOR HELPING ME. WITH THE THING YOu JuST HELPED ME BuILD.

TT: God, what are you talking about.

uu: FOR YOu IT WAS YEARS AGO. BuT FOR ME. SOLICITING YOu FOR ASSISTANCE WAS QuITE RECENT.

TT: Oh, alright. I remember now.

TT: You're always all over the timeline and somehow expect people to know what you're talking about.

TT: So what's the present?

uu: BEFORE I GIVE YOu THIS TREASuRE. FIRST YOu MuST DO SOMETHING FOR ME.

TT: Man. You really do struggle with human customs, don't you?

TT: When you're about to give someone a gift out of gratitude, you don't then start negotiating with them and ask for shit before handing it over.

TT: Just fuckin' give it to me already.

uu: NO. DO WHAT I SAY FIRST.

TT: Ok, what do you want me to do to collect my awesome prize you're allegedly thanking me with?

uu: YOuR JuJu.

uu: REMEMBER I TOLD YOu TO BRING IT TO THE ROOF.

TT: Cal? Yeah, I remember.

uu: SHHHHHHHHHHH. DON'T SAY ITS "NAME" YOu IDIOT.

uu: NOW TAKE OuT THE JuJu.

TT: Ok. Now what.

uu: NOW THROW IT IN THE FIRE.

TT: Screw you.

TT: I'm not chucking the C-man into a flaming ocean.

uu: IT IS THE uLTIMATE ABOMINATION.

uu: YOuR JuJu MAY BE DEAD AND HOLLOW. BuT SOMETHING TELLS ME.

uu: THAT MIGHT MAKE IT EVEN MORE DANGEROuS.

uu: DISCARD IT AT ONCE. TREASuRE BEYOND COMPREHENSION IS YOuR REWARD.

TT: No.

TT: Keep your treasure.

uu: AH HA HA. AS IF IT IS NOT INEVITABLY DESTINED TO FALL FROM YOuR HuMAN FINGERS.

uu: AND BECOME ERASED AS YOuR uNIVERSE DIES.

uu: DIDN'T I MENTION.

uu: A JuJu CAN NEVER BE TRuLY COPIED.

uu: IF TWO APPEAR TO EXIST. SuCH AS ONE IN REALITY AND ONE IN YOuR DREAMS.

uu: IT IS ONLY AN ILLuSION. EITHER NEVER TRuE. OR SOON TO BE CORRECTED.

uu: THERE CAN ONLY EVER BE ONE.

TT: Well, I'm not tossing him, so that's that.

uu: YOu WILL THOuGH.

uu: ANYWAY. YOu TOOK IT OuT.

uu: I WILL DEEM THAT COMPLIANCE ENOuGH.

uu: AND REWARD YOu WITH MY GRATITuDE.

uu: I THINK INSTEAD OF THANKS THOuGH. I WILL CALL IT. A "BIRTH DAY PRESENT"?

TT: It isn't my birthday.

uu: NOT YOuRS JERK.

TT: Oh. So it's your birthday today?

uu: IT WILL BE.

uu: IF EVERYTHING GOES ACCORDING TO PLAN.

TT: How cryptically meaningless.

TT: And you continue to struggle with human customs. You don't give other people presents on your own birthday.

TT: Anyway, just tell me what it is.

uu: IT IS A "WORK OF FINE ART".

uu: THE VERY FIRST I HAVE EVER ATTEMPTED.

uu: YOu WILL FIND IT SuITABLY CONVEYS OuR SPECIAL BOND.

TT: Let's see.

uu: http://tinyurl.com/DIRKTHISISuS

TT: Uh.

TT: What the fuck am I looking at here?

uu: DON'T YOu SEE?? IT IS uS! YOu AND ME.

uu: WE ARE GETTING PERHAPS A LITTLE TOO. *FRIENDLY.* IF YOu WILL. HAA. HAA.

TT: I... really don't see.

TT: What do you mean? This fucking scribbly bullshit is us? Are we shaking hands or something?

uu: WHOA! WHOAAAAAAAAAAA! DuDE. HAHA. FuCK.

uu: YOu HAVE AN EVEN DIRTIER MIND THAN ME. I'M FuCKING OuTCLASSED BY YOuR REPREHENSIBLE IMAGINATION ONCE AGAIN.

uu: I CAN'T SAY I'M SuRPRISED.

TT: So, it's just us? What about The Bitches?

TT: I thought you found a scarcity of The Bitches to be all but unacceptable.

uu: THE BITCHES AS YOu CAN PLAINLY SEE HAVE BEEN FAR FROM NEGLECTED. LOOK.

uu: THEY'RE RIGHT THERE ASSHOLE. THE BITCHES APPEAR TO BE. *AHEM.* RATHER ENJOYING EACH OTHER'S COMPANY???

uu: OOOOOOOOOOOH.

uu: SOO GNARLY.

uu: TO IMAGINE. WHAT FILTH MY OWN HAND HAS WROuGHT.

TT: Yeah. Gnarly is about right.

TT: This is utter shit. You know that, don't you?

TT: Please don't tell me you are actually incapable of understanding how bad this drawing is.

uu: WHAT. NO. FuCK YOu.

uu: IT'S PRETTY GOOD. AT LEAST FOR A FIRST TRY.

TT: If you actually think this even qualifies as a drawing, I'm going to have to say you are literally the worst artist who has ever existed.

uu: WHAT THE FuCK. THIS IS HOW YOu TREAT. MY "BIRTH DAY THANK YOu GIFT"??

TT: That's not a thing either.

TT: You must have some wires crossed between your left brain and right brain. Like a weird perceptual disorder. Or something like that.

TT: It's actually kind of fascinating that you think you achieved something visually coherent or recognizable.

uu: THIS IS OuTRAGEOuS.

TT: Anyway. Got to go.

TT: Your drawing blows.

TT: Later.

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering undyingUmbrage [uu]

[btscontentenjoyer]

Oh wow. This chapter was just... I'm kind of speechless to be honest, but I can say that I loved it.

"You’re embarrassed to admit that it never even occurred to you that Min Yoongi might be a person with a past and a hometown and stories to tell. As long as you’ve known him, he’s always just felt like… a menace. A life-ruiner. An inescapable force." As I've said before, I feel like OC realising that there's more to Yoongi as a person than someone to hate will really be the catalyst of her also realising that maybe she has some feelings for him other than hate. And I love that for her.

"Jungkook makes a face, like he knows he’s touched a nerve but can’t figure out why. “Okay. That’s good.” I love our Baby Star Candy and I know that he'll probably get hurt really soon, but I am too invested in Yoongi and OC, so I just hope that everything works out for all of them in the end.

“Sugaaaaa.” Lmaooo, at least he didn't do that at the actual presentation.

"As you’re listening diplomatically to one of them drone on about the flight to Seoul, you spot Jungkook slip in the door out of the corner of your eye, and it takes extra effort to keep the smile plastered on your face. The seats on either side of yours have long since been taken, and you glance over to see his eyes sweep the room before he moves to take an open spot at the far end." Poor baby. 🥺🥺🥺

"You can’t help yourself as the smile you’ve been desperately trying to hide starts to spread across your face, equal parts supportive and indecent." Aaaaah they are becoming cute at this point, look how far we've come. And yet there's still a long way to go.

"His only response is a slow nod, and then he goes quiet in a way that’s rare for him. It feels like an eternity of sitting and eating in silence before either of you says another word." I feel like Jungkook has been suspicious of OC and Yoongi for a while, but there's no way for him not to be now. I'm just surprised that he hasn't said anything about it yet.

“No, that’s okay,” you say, firmly enough to make it very obvious you don’t want company. Maybe a little too firm, because Jungkook blinks, like he’s taken aback. Your stomach twists with a feeling that you imagine must be similar to having just kicked a puppy." 🥺🥺🥺 He's exactly like a puppy. But I also can't help but find it cute that OC's getting lunch for Yoongi, so I am so torn between feeling bad for Jungkook and rooting for OC and Yoongi. I guess I'll just do both and suffer.

"Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you hum, feigning thought. “If only you had someone who could help with that. Some kind of… Admin Bitch.” The fact that she brought him lunch and told him to go home to rest and that she would take care of things for him!!!!! And the fact that he actually accepted her help!!!! This is real progress and I love it.

"There’s a crinkling sound, and when he gently sets a small wax paper pastry bag on your desk next to the coffee, you’re sure that you’ve overslept your alarm and are in the depths of a wild, ridiculous dream. It’s the only way any of this can be happening." I always love some good banter and hatefucking, don't get me wrong, but this progression to them doing sweet things for each other is killing me in the best way possible.

"Jungkook doesn’t pry into your vague statement, but a sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that maybe he doesn’t have to." Yeah, he definitely knows 😬😬😬 Just preparing myself emotionally for that confrontation now.

"When you fill in the final details, Jimin nearly spits his drink out. “Suga really hatefucked you on a conference table?! I need to go buy some lottery tickets.” He throws back his second shot, and there’s a smug smile on his face as he swallows it down. “God, I love being psychic.” Don't even care how many times I've said it at this point. I. Love. Jimin.

“No, what did you just say?” You lift your head up to look at him, and his expression is deadly serious, his eyes sharp and focused. “Min Yoongi? I know Min Yoongi.”

You give him the same look right back. “You what?”

“We were trainees together. I— wait, Min Yoongi is Suga the producer? Really?!” He scrambles for his phone and you just sit there, dumbfounded." Aaand somehow Jimin has become even more iconic.

"He makes a face like the mere suggestion is ridiculous. “I am an adult, with a job and a very needy boyfriend. Your chaos already monopolizes too much of my time.” Lmaooo very valid.

"Min Yoongi was so simple when you first met him, back when he was a two-dimensional character, the antagonist of your TV show life, your enemy. But now he’s none of those things. He’s a real, flawed, complicated person, and your feelings for him are confusing and overwhelming. And you deeply do not want to think about your feelings. You don’t want to examine them, don’t want to hold them up to the light for fear of what you might find. It occurs to you in this moment that you don’t want to think about anything at all." I totally understand OC because the more I learn about Yoongi, the more I fall in love with him too sooo...

"You’re doing the only thing that makes sense. “I’m gonna go fuck him,” you say, resigned, and then you make your way out the front door of the bar as you pull up Yoongi’s contact in your phone." I don't exactly see how sleeping with the man you don't want to think about will help you, but you do you.

“Please,” Yoongi cuts you off. “If you’re really calling me begging to get fucked, the least I can do is provide the transportation. Just send me your location.” He never stops being a menace though and I love him for it.

"He takes a longer sip of his drink this time, chasing his swallow with a grimace as he stares at the floor. “It’s funny. I always feel like I have to do better, even now. I get obsessed with work because it’s better than being depressed. And most of the time it feels like there’s nothing else to do anyway. I just work myself to death because it’s my only reason to stay alive.” Ugh, I love seeing this side of Yoongi, and no matter how much she doesn't want to, I love that OC is seeing this side of him too and it's forcing her to reconsider how she feels about him.

“And it makes me feel like such a fucking asshole, because he died, and I’m sitting here complaining about me. It’s like I don’t even miss him as much as I just miss… the way things used to be. The person I used to be.” You let yourself take a breath, but the final thought, the part you don’t usually say out loud, slips out with it. “It’s like she died, too.” It genuinely is so amazing to see both of them talk about things like these, where Yoongi isn't just some asshole reclusive workaholic and OC isn't just some dumb person who even lied to get the job that she has. We've seen flashes of the fact that they are more than that, with Yoongi opening up more and even accepting OC's help and I believe OC has genuinely proven that despite basically every aspect of her job being new to her, she could handle it in the end, albeit after a few fuck ups. But seeing them being so vulnerable in this way is truly so amazing to read. And you manage to weave such hard and deep conversations into the story so well, M. It was something I loved when I read The Shape of Your Body and it's something I love seeing here.

“The night I left the studio door unlocked, and there was the break-in,” Yoongi starts, his thumb fiddling with the ring on his index finger. Something twists in your stomach, an intuition you can’t explain that makes it immediately clear to you what he’s about to say. “I wasn’t thinking about locking up that night because I... was planning to kill myself.” Well... Damn. I didn't expect this at all but it is truly heartbreaking. But the fact that he’s telling OC all of that??? It really shows how far they've come in their 'relationship'.

“I mean, I definitely did. But now, I don’t know. Would I really be wasting my Saturday night here if I hated you?” This is honestly so much progress for them. I'm proud of OC for saying that!

"You don’t get to finish the thought, because Yoongi’s touch is sliding over the curve of your waist, and then he’s dragging you back toward him until his mouth finds yours again. The taste of whiskey lingers on his soft lips as they move against yours— you can’t help but whimper a little at how hungrily he kisses you. Like he’s wanted to do it for a long time." Hell yeah!!!! Can't believe I've been reading about these two having sex this whole time and yet I'm cheering for them kissing and getting so excited about it lmao. They really are doing things backwards huh.

"It’s weird to not be rushing through this: to feel like you can take your time as he kisses you again, as you lick into his mouth to roll your tongue over his, as one of his hands starts to creep under your skirt to gently rub up and down the length of your thigh." I feel like them bringing that vulnerability from earlier into the sex is something very brave for them. Because no matter how many moments of something other than hatred that they shared, the sex they had was always about exactly that - their dislike towards each other. And now it feels like that's not the case at all. I wonder if they'll get scared and revert back to the old ways.

"Yoongi just barely pulls off of you, close enough that a string of your arousal is still joined to his lower lip when he speaks. “You’re not the only one with good head game here.” It was about damn time. OC should be kicking herself for not taking him up on his offer earlier.

"A muscle in his jaw works as he exhales a resigned sigh, and you reach out, one hand finding his bicep to stop him before he leaves. You want it too much, bad idea or not. “Just… fuck me anyway.” Damn we are going all the way today. Pulling out all the stops all at once. But I'm not gonna lie, if Yoongi just suddenly opened up to me and then made me squirt??? I'd let him fuck me raw too lmao. It also somehow doesn't feel like the most reckless thing they've done.

“Holy fucking shit,” is all he can manage when he finally collapses down on the bed next to you." I absolutely agree with Yoongi, because that was some of the hottest smut I've ever read. You are literally the best at smut writer out there, M! But what I loved most about it was the way you could feel how different this experience was for them compared to all of the other times. All of the vulnerability of just the two of them in private baring their souls to each other first and then their bodies.... I mean OC even called Yoongi baby! I really love the way the sex scenes are never only about the sex in this story and how you build OC and Yoongi's characters through them as well.

“You know Jungkook is in love with you, right?” Lmao, I know that this whole sex in an actual bed thing is new to them, but this is not good pillow talk, Yoongi.

"Yoongi stares up at the ceiling, seemingly nonplussed. “Well, when he asked me for the code to my office, I figured he wanted to take you in there and fuck you.” The fact that Yoongi tried doing Jungkook a favour with this and it led to... all of that, is kinda hilarious, not gonna lie.

“It’s okay,” he answers softly, and then his mouth drags you back in like a riptide.

You don’t know how long you stay there like that, kissing him under the steam and the spray, but you’re breathless when you finally pull away to look up at him. Water droplets are twined through his long, dark hair, collecting delicately on his eyelashes, trailing down his neck and over the muscles of his chest.

“You can sleep here tonight, if you want,” Yoongi offers, and before you can even process the words, he’s stepping back to push the shower door open behind him, and then he’s gone." Ohmyfuckinggod I am absolutely losing my mind at this point. Don't have any coherent words in me anymore.

"He looks smaller like this. More vulnerable, maybe." 🥺🥺🥺

"You move through his apartment aimlessly, like a patron in a museum. Something cracks open inside of you as you allow yourself to take in his place undisturbed, and with it, what could be. The idea that a night spent here could feel normal. The two of you in the clearly well-used kitchen, how you might sit on the counter with a glass of wine while he cooks dinner. Talking about your days, about the past and the future. Sharing a life. Fucking and showering and falling asleep in his bed, tangled up together." Now she really is in veeery deep.

"For something so close, it feels impossibly far away in the harsh light of morning. It feels like something meant for a much better person than you." 😭😭😭😭 Nooo, don't think like that pls 😭😭😭😭

"He just shrugs. “I don’t know. You’ve been… different lately. About Suga. I thought maybe something was going on.” An uneasy feeling starts to wash over you." Whew, here we gooo.

"Jungkook’s brow furrows again. “It’s my business because I care about you. He made you so miserable when you first started, so I don’t see how you could just forget about that and be into him, especially when you could…” He trails off and looks down, unwilling to finish the sentence." Damn, this is really painful. Knowing that Jungkook has good intentions and that he genuinely is a nice guy, but also knowing what OC and Yoongi have and how good it can be if they let it...

“Let me make this clear to you,” you hiss. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and making my own decisions. And I do not have to explain or justify them to anyone, including you, because you are not my fucking boyfriend.” It makes so much sense for OC to be so defensive, especially after all that has happened. And it also makes sense for Jungkook to be confused since he hasn't directly witnessed the development of OC and Yoongi's relationship and he cares about her 😔😔😔

"You’ve never seen him look at you the way he does now, his eyes dark, his face twisted into a near grimace. There’s a long pause, and his voice is stilted when he finally speaks. “Yeah. Sorry I brought it up.” Even with the way I am rooting for OC and Yoongi, I feel so bad for our Baby Star Candy. He is just too pure for anything bad to happen to him. Someone wrap him in bubble wrap so that he doesn't get hurt and give him cuddles pls. Or you know what, I might as well just do it myself!

“Love you, have fun. And be a slut!” Jimin knows what's up as always lmao.

"Perfectly in sync, you both push your bags forward, stepping carefully toward a weekend that feels impossible to imagine." Aaah can't wait!!!

This chapter made me so soft and was definitely a new experience for me with these two. Loved loved loved seeing this deeper side to both of them and can't wait to see more. Although I did see that chapter 10 is heartbreaking, I can't wait to catch up and be emotionally wrecked.

look down on me like that - 8 (explicit)

genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut (w some eventual angst that is no longer eventual 👀)

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.

word count: *deep breath in* 15.3k

contains: explicit sexual content and discussion of some dark themes .....yyyyyep 🤐 includes past-tense discussions of the d3ath of a parent (reader's) and su1c1dal ideation (yoongi's) so please tread carefully loves 💜 some references to alcohol per usual, and plenty of confusing feelings and piss-poor communication..... i'll leave the rest as a surprise 👀 but here are your smut-specific warnings: kissing (‼️), nipple play, clit stim, a single pussy slap lol, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting (🤭), unprotected sex and pulling out (💀), orgasm denial of sorts, but it's cool bc reader has multiple orgasms, ok byeeeee~

A/N: welp..... i'm off to enter witness protection in case you all decide you hate this chapter 💀 not really but heuhjkghkfjgdsf dear god am i nervous to post this lmfao. hope you're ready for some ~answers to questions~ and a whole lotta callbacks to earlier chapters idk why i shoved them all in ch8 specifically but here you go. the scene at yoongi's apartment was one of the very first things i dreamt up in regards to this story and it's nuts to me that we're all the way here now 💜 hope you're ready for a little more insight into these two! also baby goth fans don't come for me..... i promise we'll get a better resolution there..... reader and yoongi just have to survive LA first 😩

an eternal thank you to @haliiimede and @monimonimoon for being wonderful betas, and to @nabiolive for the dead parent sensitivity read lmfao I LOVE Y'ALL

read on AO3!

chapter seven | masterlist | chapter nine

~*~

In the morning, you wake up well before your alarm with an inexplicable uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. When it’s clear sleep is a lost cause, you decide to just get up, and you move through your routine slowly. Everything feels distant, not quite real, like it’s happening to someone else.

On the bus ride to the office, you let your eyes drop closed and try desperately not to replay the events of last night back. You should feel bad about the sex on the conference room table, and you do, a little. But your mind is stuck somewhere else.

Rain streaking down Yoongi’s windshield. The silence as he drove, disturbed only by the low rumble of his voice. The way he’d looked at you, and the heavy pause that hung in the air between you, for just a moment, until you’d fumbled open the door of his car and had practically ran back to the safety of your apartment. And his story— he’d told you something personal, with no malice or hidden agenda that you can manage to find, no matter how much you search for one. Something from when he was just a kid, growing up in Daegu.

You’re embarrassed to admit that it never even occurred to you that Min Yoongi might be a person with a past and a hometown and stories to tell. As long as you’ve known him, he’s always just felt like… a menace. A life-ruiner. An inescapable force.

The thoughts follow you as you step off the bus and make your way into the building and onto the elevator. You can’t figure it out. Yoongi could’ve easily left you to suffer in the rain, but instead he did something nice for you, without asking for anything in return. He’d related to you. He’d let you in, barely, but it’s something.

And you have no idea what to make of it.

Polite small talk with Jungkook as you unlock the front doors is a decent distraction, but you wonder if he can tell that you’re not all the way there today. You set your bag on your desk, then circle around to take a seat, only half-listening as he continues to talk.

“Did you stay late last night?”

You swear your heart stops beating. “What?”

He shrugs, like it’s an obvious question. “There’s the big overseas thing today. I’m sure you had a bunch of stuff to prep. Hopefully it wasn’t too late of a night?”

“No.” The word comes out harsher than you mean it to. You’re not quite sure why your body is suddenly doing emotional alchemy, taking your fear of being caught and somehow turning it into anger. “It wasn’t,” you say firmly.

Jungkook makes a face, like he knows he’s touched a nerve but can’t figure out why. “Okay. That’s good.”

You don’t respond— you just try to control your breathing, try to will your heart to quit racing as you start up your laptop and pretend to suddenly be engrossed in it.

“Well,” he tries again after a moment’s pause. “I guess I’ll see you at the presentation thing.”

“Okay,” you answer, your voice a little softer this time, but you’re still too scared to look away from your screen. When you do eventually work up the courage, he’s already gone.

Before you even have the chance to glance back down, like some universal joke at your expense, the front door of the office is pushed open, and Yoongi steps through. Annoyed as you are, you can only be grateful that his entrance didn’t overlap with Jungkook’s question. You probably would have died of embarrassment on the spot.

Yoongi’s usual dark sunglasses are nowhere to be found today, and he’s in nice clothes for the presentation, a button-down and dress pants, his hair styled. He does still have a death grip on a large iced coffee, but that’s to be expected, especially given the fact that he’s in a lot earlier than is typical for him.

It’s only when his eyes snap over to you for the briefest of seconds that you see the dark shadows sunken deep beneath them, weighing heavy on his face.

Yoongi’s gaze moves back to the hallway in front of him as quickly as it alighted on you. You open your mouth before you even understand why you’re doing it.

“Yoongi?”

He stops dead in his tracks and blinks at you a few times, clearly tired, clearly not expecting the interruption. “Yeah?”

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

His mouth pulls into a flat line as he shakes his head. “Nerves. It’s why I don’t do stuff like this. Unless forced.”

You nod, unsure of what to say— or why you even asked. “Oh. Well, uh. Good luck.”

Yoongi lifts his coffee in a parting gesture, then disappears toward his lab without another word.

You try to focus on your work, to shove the interaction to the back of your mind with everything else you’re avoiding, but the screen seems to blur in front of you, until you finally push back from your desk with an exasperated sigh. The emails can wait.

Maybe, you consider, it would be good to stretch your legs. You can head into the presentation room early to set up before everyone arrives, and make sure everything is working for the several hours of agenda lined up for the morning.

Setting your shoulders back, you grab your things and make your way down the hallway. The thought feels like a good idea until you push the door open and encounter a severe case of deja vu.

Yoongi glances up from his laptop at the front of the room, blearily rubbing at one eye with the heel of his hand. “Is it time already?”

You hover in the threshold, unsure. “Uh— I mean, not quite. I’m early. I can go, if you want.”

He shrugs, busying himself with something on his computer screen. “You’ll have to hear it anyway. Can I just run through it one more time?”

You take a few tentative steps forward, dropping your bag and laptop on the table, right where you sat to watch him the night before. The energy in the room feels entirely different now, and your stomach is twisted into knots that you can’t manage to breathe deep enough to untangle.

“Yeah, fine.” You pause, unable to help yourself. “Just… don’t expect the same treatment as last night.”

Yoongi huffs a dark laugh. “I wasn’t.”

Taking a seat at the table, you set about your admin duties and try to ignore the way Yoongi mumbles over his presentation as he taps through his slides at the front of the room. There’s only so much you can do without bothering him, and you fly through those tasks all-too quickly. You drag your bottom lip between your teeth as you glance back up at Yoongi, and then you inhale to steady yourself before you speak.

“Can you turn on the mic?”

His head snaps up, caught off guard. “Hmm?”

“I need to make sure the mic is working.” Yoongi’s gaze flits to the podium’s built in-microphone, then back to you as he presses the switch to turn it on. “Say something into it,” you instruct. “It doesn’t matter what.”

Yoongi’s eyes move back to the microphone, and it’s like you can see the delay in his brain from lack of sleep. You don’t know what you were expecting— maybe a half-assed ‘check, check’, at worst some sexual or smart-ass remark. Instead, he leans in far closer than is necessary, until his mouth is nearly touching the microphone as he whispers into it.

“Sugaaaaa.”

The live demo of the notorious producer tag that intros all of his tracks is so ridiculous, so unexpected, that you can’t help it. You burst out laughing, clapping a hand over your mouth a few seconds too late. “What the fuck was that?!” The question is only muffled slightly by your palm.

Yoongi’s head drops forward, his dark hair falling in his face, and you can see his shoulders shaking with laughter, too. “Sorry,” he manages with a gasp for breath, tilting back up to speak into the microphone, which you can now actually tell is working properly. “I’m so fucking tired, I think I’m going insane.”

You uncover your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief.

The sudden loud buzz of your phone against the conference room table makes you jump, and you quickly reach for it, for fear it might be an emergency text from your boss that needs immediate attention. Your eyes widen in surprise when you see it’s actually from Jungkook.

Presentation thing? Wanna sit together?

You read the words again and again, and a strange feeling rises up in your chest that you can’t quite name. As you stare down at your phone, you hear the distinct sound of Yoongi’s laptop shutting, and then his voice, no longer amplified by the microphone when he mutters to himself, “Fuck it. It’s as good as it’s gonna get.”

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, you glance up at Yoongi again, then back down at the text. With a final hard swallow, you turn your phone on silent and flip it over on the table, leaving Jungkook’s question unanswered.

The time is close enough now that you get to your feet to prop open the presentation room door, and then your colleagues quickly start to file into the space, filling in the seats around the large U-shaped arrangement of tables. It’s everything you can do to keep your expression neutral as your brain unhelpfully reminds you that Yoongi fucked you on one of these tables last night.

You try to manage something close to a smile when your boss enters with the team from the American office in tow, and you proceed to exchange pleasantries with them and fake laugh at their jokes when he introduces you.

As you’re listening diplomatically to one of them drone on about the flight to Seoul, you spot Jungkook slip in the door out of the corner of your eye, and it takes extra effort to keep the smile plastered on your face. The seats on either side of yours have long since been taken, and you glance over to see his eyes sweep the room before he moves to take an open spot at the far end. 

You watch unabashedly now as he leans back in his chair, tilting to one side to pull his phone out of his pocket, and you can only pray he’s watching TikToks with the sound off rather than checking for a text that’s never coming.

When your manager repeats a question meant for you, your attention snaps back to the group. Sure your smile is nearly a grimace now, you apologize and blame the distraction on needing more coffee, which is enough to earn you a polite chuckle.

Eventually the room takes their seats as your manager moves to the front to start the presentation. You stay focused on copying down minutes as various speakers go through the company’s financials for the previous four quarters, the roadmap for the coming years, and a summary of top-level talent that the label has signed or directly worked with.

The discussion of talent leads smoothly into a quick review of achievements and nominations, and then Yoongi steps to the front of the room.

As he launches in, you can’t get over the stark difference between the Yoongi you’re used to and the one standing behind the podium in front of you. The man with the easy, confident, cocky demeanor is nowhere to be found, replaced with someone who barely looks up from his slides and speaks at a rushed pace, like he’s trying to get the words out as fast as possible. You bite down firmly on your bottom lip and try not to react at all.

He’s nearly halfway done now, and just as you’re thinking he might make it through the whole thing unscathed, Yoongi stumbles slightly over his words. It’s not a lot, a little slip-up that the rest of the room probably didn’t even notice, but you see a momentary flash of panic in his dark eyes. And then those eyes snap up to meet yours, and your stomach drops.

The memory of the two of you in this room, the thought of what you’d be doing to him if you were alone again, the way you could so easily make his voice shake and his knees threaten to buckle with just your mouth— it’s all too much.

You can’t help yourself as the smile you’ve been desperately trying to hide starts to spread across your face, equal parts supportive and indecent.

There’s a beat of silence, not long enough for anyone to think anything of it, and then Yoongi drops your gaze as quickly as he found it. He squints back down at his computer screen, and though he leans away from the microphone, you don’t miss the unmistakable sound of him clearing his throat.

“Excuse me,” he murmurs, and then he picks up where he left off, managing to get back on track without further issue.

You desperately try to ignore the warm flush of heat that creeps up your neck as Yoongi goes through the rest of his slides.

Time seems to speed by in a rush after his presentation, and you barely manage to keep up with the barrage of content. You’re more than grateful when your manager inevitably wraps up the session, reminding everyone to head to a nearby restaurant for a team lunch immediately following.

As the room begins to empty, you take your time finishing up the notes and firing them off to the broader audience. When you finally close your laptop and look up, you realize nearly everyone has left now, though as fate would have it, Yoongi has also lagged behind. He’s standing hunched over the conference room table as he types something into his own laptop.

You try not to overthink it as you hug your computer to your chest and take a few steps toward him. “Yoongi?”

He hums a response, and when he glances up at you, the bags under his eyes are just as prominent as before.

“Are you, uh— coming to lunch?”

He rolls his eyes, like the question is ridiculous. “I can’t. I’m drowning in shit I put off for the last two days.”

His words make you take a step back, and you immediately feel stupid for asking. Why do you even care what he does? “Right. Got it.”

You don’t wait around for him to say anything else, you just shove your laptop into your purse and pull the strap over your shoulder as you head for the exit.

Largely preoccupied with getting away from Yoongi, you don’t pay much attention to your surroundings as you slip out of the room, and you only get a few steps down the hall before a voice behind you nearly makes you jump out of your skin. “There you are.”

“Jesus!” you gasp, whipping around to find Jungkook leaning up against the glass wall of the conference room, his arms crossed over his chest. “You fucking scared me, Baby Goth.”

“Sorry.” He gives a shy smile, nose scrunching slightly like he’s embarrassed. “I wasn’t gonna let you ditch me again. Lunch?”

You do your best to match his smile. “Let’s go. I’m starving.” 

The two of you meet up with the rest of the team at a restaurant well out of your price range, and Jungkook babbles freely as he stuffs his face, seemingly unbothered by how little you have to say in return. The chatter of so many people at the long table is a white noise that you can’t focus on any part of, and Jungkook’s usual comforting presence feels overwhelming today, nearly stifling. You push food back and forth on your plate but barely eat, your stomach uneasy for reasons you don’t want to dwell on.

“Min Suga seemed like he didn’t even want to be up there.” The mention of Yoongi’s pseudonym is enough to snap you out of your haze.

“Huh?” You glance up at Jungkook, your eyes widening slightly, and you force yourself to eat another bite of pasta as he continues.

“I don’t know, he went through it so fast. Guess it makes sense. He hates anything that drags him out of his lab, right?”

You aimlessly twirl your fork against your plate, around and around. When you first started this job, you would have agreed with Jungkook without a second thought. Laughed about it, even. Now you’re not so sure. You don’t want to add to this growing sense of friction, the weird energy in the air, but the words come out anyway.

“He was nervous, Jungkook.”

When you meet his gaze again, Jungkook looks confused, and you instantly regret saying anything at all.

“What, did he tell you that?”

You nod as you take another bite of food to avoid having to explain yourself.

Jungkook’s eyes drift down to the table between you, distant, his brow furrowed like he’s suddenly doing some complex mental math. “When?”

“Last night,” you murmur through your mouthful. “We both worked late. I helped him practice a little.” The explanation was meant to make the situation sound less incriminating, but somehow you feel like it only makes it worse. You hope Jungkook can’t tell how warm your face is starting to get.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low, his gaze still not meeting yours. “I thought you said you didn’t stay late. When I asked you this morning.”

A rush of adrenaline hits your bloodstream so hard it makes you dizzy. “I—I didn’t. It wasn’t that late. Like an hour max. Didn’t seem worth mentioning.” You set your fork down, quickly hiding your hands in your lap so Jungkook can’t see the way they’ve started to tremble.

His only response is a slow nod, and then he goes quiet in a way that’s rare for him. It feels like an eternity of sitting and eating in silence before either of you says another word.

The conversation eventually picks back up again, and when it does, you try to tell yourself you’re just imagining that it’s slightly more stilted than before.

As you and Jungkook trail after the rest of your coworkers on the walk back to the office, you trade a few more polite questions about work-related projects, and then you fall quiet again, seemingly out of things to say. It’s a few stretches of city blocks, and then you see Jungkook’s head tip up, and he outright sniffs the air.

You can’t help but laugh a little, mostly because he looks like a dog, and then you smell it too. The unmistakable aroma coming from the street cart up ahead. You smile softly to yourself as you both slow to pass it, ogling rice cakes and fish cakes simmering in a pan of spicy sauce.

“God,” Jungkook groans appreciatively. “I would absolutely destroy some tteokbokki right now if I didn’t think I’d literally explode.”

“This is what happens when you help yourself to thirds every time you eat,” you chide him with a giggle, and the two of you nod to the vendor before you continue on toward the office. You only take a few more steps before you falter, and Jungkook turns back when he notices you’ve stopped.

“What’s up? Did you want to get some?”

You don’t know what makes you lie. “Uh, no. I, uh— I just realized, I think I left my scarf back at the restaurant. I’m gonna run back, but don’t worry about waiting for me. You’ve got work stuff.”

Jungkook shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. “It’s cool, I can go with you.”

“No, that’s okay,” you say, firmly enough to make it very obvious you don’t want company. Maybe a little too firm, because Jungkook blinks, like he’s taken aback. Your stomach twists with a feeling that you imagine must be similar to having just kicked a puppy.

“Oh. Alright, well. I’ll see you later, then.” He pauses for a moment, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, and then he turns on his heel and keeps walking in the direction of the office. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch Jungkook’s retreating form until he disappears down the city block.

You try not to overthink the interaction as you retrace your steps to the cart, then head back to the office with a takeout bag gripped in one hand. Thankfully you don’t have to fumble for another lie of an excuse, because you don’t run into Jungkook or anyone else in your straight shot from the entrance to the door of Yoongi’s lab. Quick as you can, you punch in the lock code, then push the handle down and slip inside.

It takes you a minute to process what you’re seeing as you shut the door behind you. Yoongi’s arms are folded on the desk in front of him, and he’s slumped forward, head buried in the crook of his elbow. For a brief moment your heart drops, and then you take a tentative step closer and realize there’s no shake or shudder to his shoulders, only the smooth rise and fall of deep, steady breathing.

He’s asleep.

You close the remaining distance until you can reach out and gently place a hand on his back. “Yoongi?”

He inhales sharply, and you quickly pull your hand away like you’ve just been burned. Tilting his head to one side, he cracks an eye open, mumbling something that sounds like a question but is otherwise fully incoherent.

“You fell asleep,” you say dumbly, and Yoongi slowly sits up with a grunt, his eyes squinting, clearly readjusting to the room around him. He leans back to stretch, and several places in his back and shoulders crack impressively loudly.

“Fuck,” he sighs, voice strained, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “Why are you in here?”

“I brought you lunch,” you murmur, lifting the takeout bag for him to witness. He frowns at it, then up at you, like he can’t quite figure out what’s happening.

“Thanks,” he eventually manages. “You can just leave it. I’m nowhere near done with all my—”

You cut him off before he can finish. “Go home, Yoongi.”

The look of slack-jawed confusion on his face is enough to nearly make you laugh. “What?”

“I said go home.”

His brow furrows. “You’re not my boss.”

“I’m not saying it as your boss,” you sigh. “But you need to eat, and sleep. This isn’t healthy.”

Yoongi huffs a little, exasperated. “That’s easy for you to say, but I have so much stupid admin stuff to get caught up on.” He gestures halfheartedly to a massive to-do list pulled up on his monitor, one he’s barely a quarter of the way through.

Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you hum, feigning thought. “If only you had someone who could help with that. Some kind of… Admin Bitch.”

The comment must catch him off-guard, because he outright laughs. “You know, I still haven’t changed your contact name.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Then you should go before I question why I’m being nice to you. I’ll leave a note for tomorrow with anything I can’t figure out for myself. Assuming you trust my ability to do my job.” As if to indicate that you are no longer open to discussing the subject, you shove the takeout bag into Yoongi’s chest, and he wraps both arms around it, still looking entirely dazed.

But to your surprise, he doesn’t fight you, just slowly rolls his desk chair back and gets to his feet. You watch carefully as he shifts the bag of food to one arm, then grabs his work bag and slings it over his shoulder. “I, uh— thanks.”

You wave a hand as if to tell him not to mention it, and then you plop down into his chair and get to work, barely phased by the sound of the door clicking shut when he leaves.

~*~

As you settle in at your desk the next morning, it dawns on you how close the Grammys have started to loom, made abundantly clear by the overwhelming amount of prep you find yourself launched into. You don’t think you look up from your screen once, not even bothering to greet coworkers as they push through the doors, until the muted tap of something being placed on your desk startles you.

You see the cup of coffee first, and when you glance up expecting a pair of Baby Star Candy eyes, you instead find Yoongi hovering at the edge of your desk, like he’s not sure what he’s doing there. You make zero attempts to hide your total shock at whatever the fuck is going on in this moment.

He looks— good. Fresh-faced, like he managed to actually get some sleep, a little less gaunt. Even his expression seems weirdly pleasant, something you might mistake for happiness if you thought that he was capable of such an emotion.

There’s a crinkling sound, and when he gently sets a small wax paper pastry bag on your desk next to the coffee, you’re sure that you’ve overslept your alarm and are in the depths of a wild, ridiculous dream. It’s the only way any of this can be happening.

You blink up at him as you hesitantly reach for the bag, like you’re scared it might bite you.

“It’s maple,” he says as you slowly pick it up and investigate the contents. It’s still warm. “I asked for the most disgustingly sweet thing they had.”

Too overwhelmed, you set the pastry bag back down wordlessly. As you do, it’s only now that your eyes focus on the letters “AB” sketched in black marker on the side of the coffee cup, where a barista would typically write your name.

Yoongi’s eyes must be watching yours carefully, because he huffs a laugh as he sees realization dawn over your face. “Making them actually write Admin Bitch seemed a bit much.”

You can’t manage to find a laugh to match his, can only sit there, shell-shocked. When you look up again, he’s already walking backwards in the direction of his lab, but his eyes are still on you. “I’d tell you not to tell anyone, but I don’t think they’d believe you even if you did.”

And just like that, he’s gone again.

You remain unconvinced that both of his gifts aren’t secretly poisoned, but your desperate need for a fresh hit of caffeine overwhelms any other emotion. Carefully, you lift the cup to your lips and take a sip— it’s not scalding, but still perfectly hot, and your eyes widen as the flavor hits your tongue.

Two cream, three sugar. Exactly how you like it.

Before you’ve even had time to swallow, Jungkook is suddenly rounding the corner from the opposite direction, and you have to make a conscious effort not to choke.

He slows to a stop, and you watch him take in the coffee cup clutched between your hands like a lifeline. “Hey! You seriously snuck out for coffee without me?” His tone is mock-hurt, but you can’t help wondering whether it’s entirely put on.

Your gaze drops back down to the cup. “Sorry, JK. Someone else picked this up for me.”

Jungkook doesn’t pry into your vague statement, but a sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that maybe he doesn’t have to.

~*~

It’s Saturday night by the time your schedule aligns with Jimin’s for a night out, and given that it’s the last time you’ll see him before you leave for Los Angeles, you manage to guilt him into driving. The bar you choose is a shitty dive nowhere near your office, where you’re certain you won’t have to worry about any accidental encounters.

Or any encounters at all, as it turns out. The place is dead.

“I think we’re single-handedly keeping them open tonight,” Jimin murmurs with a grimace as you grab a pair of stools.

The bartender pours you each two shots and two beers, then returns to their side work at the far end of the bar in an apparent attempt to give the two of you some privacy.

It’s only once you’ve had your first shot and are halfway through the accompanying beer that you’re able to speak the words aloud: “I had sex in the office again.”

Jimin glances up at the ceiling, as if asking for strength, and you recount the full story mostly to the wood grain in front of you, unable to look your best friend in the face while you catch him up on everything.

When you fill in the final details, Jimin nearly spits his drink out. “Suga really hatefucked you on a conference table?! I need to go buy some lottery tickets.” He throws back his second shot, and there’s a smug smile on his face as he swallows it down. “God, I love being psychic.”

You shove an elbow into his ribs. “Listen. I don’t know what’s fucking happening anymore, Mochi. Sometimes he’s insufferable but now sometimes we apparently mildly tolerate and are even nice to each other. Like, coffee and a pastry nice.” You smack your hand on the bar for emphasis as you repeat the words. “Coffee. And. A. Pastry.”

“So,” Jimin clasps his hands together as he surveys you. There’s a look on his face like he’s clearly expecting you to draw some conclusion from all of this, but it seems to have entirely escaped you. “What have we learned?”

You drop your head down on the bar with a resounding thud. “We’ve learned that Min Yoongi is ruining my life.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Voice muffled slightly, you groan. “Don’t make me say it louder.”

“No, what did you just say?” You lift your head up to look at him, and his expression is deadly serious, his eyes sharp and focused. “Min Yoongi? I know Min Yoongi.”

You give him the same look right back. “You what?”

“We were trainees together. I— wait, Min Yoongi is Suga the producer? Really?!” He scrambles for his phone and you just sit there, dumbfounded.

“How are you only now telling me that you know him?”

Jimin glances up, incredulous. “Um, hi, because you literally never fucking told me Suga is Min Yoongi?”

You roll your eyes. “Please, surely I have said his name to you at least once.”

It’s Jimin’s turn to smack the bar, and he does so loudly. “Run those tapes back, ma’am! We have always called him Suga.”

“You’re telling me you’ve never even Googled him?!”

He makes a face like the mere suggestion is ridiculous. “I am an adult, with a job and a very needy boyfriend. Your chaos already monopolizes too much of my time.”

The search on his phone loads, and you watch Jimin tap and scroll slowly, mouth dropping open in disbelief. “Min Yoongi is Suga. Wow. I think I need a minute.”

Jimin’s earlier words finally catch up to you, and you finish the last of your first beer before you dare ask the question. “Yoongi was really a trainee?”

“He was,” Jimin confirms, gaze still locked on his phone. “Obviously he didn’t debut either. He left a few months before I did. I always wondered what happened to him.”

“What was he like?” Your voice comes out soft, a little unsure.

His eyes widen, staring off unfocused as he searches through his memory. “I mean, we weren’t super close, he’s a few years older than me. But it doesn’t sound like that much has changed if I think about what you’ve told me. He was quiet, not too personable. Worked hard. Didn’t really seem that close to anybody. I think maybe he had a difficult home life?”

Your stomach drops a little as Jimin pauses, choosing his words. “Like I guess his parents weren’t very supportive. So I think he felt like he had a lot to prove, and had really high standards for himself. But he obviously loved music. Makes sense that he ended up a producer. It’s like me and dance, right?” He picks up his beer with a shrug, staring thoughtfully down at the amber liquid. “Man. Those years were tough.”

As Jimin takes a sip of his drink and then continues on about his trainee days, your head starts to spin. You throw back your second shot in hopes that it might help.

You wish you could go back and unlearn this information, unsay the name Min Yoongi. Because you don’t want to think about him. You don’t want to know that Min Yoongi gets nervous about public speaking, that he likes his coffee iced, that he can’t say no to street cart tteokbokki, that he used to be a trainee, that he worked an unpaid job in Daegu, that he had a disapproving family and never felt good enough and maybe still doesn’t.

Min Yoongi was so simple when you first met him, back when he was a two-dimensional character, the antagonist of your TV show life, your enemy. But now he’s none of those things. He’s a real, flawed, complicated person, and your feelings for him are confusing and overwhelming. And you deeply do not want to think about your feelings. You don’t want to examine them, don’t want to hold them up to the light for fear of what you might find. It occurs to you in this moment that you don’t want to think about anything at all.

With a sigh, you scoot your chair back from the bar, then get to your feet.

“What are you doing?” Jimin interrupts himself to ask as you dig your phone out of your purse.

You’re doing the only thing that makes sense. “I’m gonna go fuck him,” you say, resigned, and then you make your way out the front door of the bar as you pull up Yoongi’s contact in your phone.

It’s only as the line starts to ring that you realize you don’t exactly have a location in mind. Sex in a bar bathroom is an experience you have no desire to repeat, and the thought of Yoongi seeing your shithole apartment makes your drinks threaten a return appearance.

You’re starting to consider that maybe you should just hang up and forget the idea entirely when Yoongi’s voice startles you.

“Uh, hi?”

“Hi.”

There’s a pause as you realize you didn’t actually plan how to have this conversation, and then you and Yoongi speak in tandem.

“I was just wondering—”

“Is there a reason you—”

“Shut up,” you snap, agitated by your own awkwardness. “What are you doing right now?”

Yoongi laughs darkly into the phone. “I’m sorry, is this a booty call?”

“Answer the question, asshole.”

There’s a slight shifting sound, like he’s making himself comfortable. “Nothing. Drinking.”

“Great, same here.”

Another pause, and you swear you can hear Yoongi slow blinking, can see the stupid smirk on his face when you close your eyes. “Would you like to come over, then?”

“Yes,” you answer, trying to sound more confident than you feel, and then you falter slightly. You’re not about to ask Jimin to drive you— you don’t trust him enough to stay in the car and behave, not when he’s been drinking. “Uh, are you by any chance near a bus stop?”

Yoongi doesn’t even try to suppress his snort of laughter. “I’m not. But I can send a car.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you say quickly, trying to think. “I can figure something—”

“Please,” Yoongi cuts you off. “If you’re really calling me begging to get fucked, the least I can do is provide the transportation. Just send me your location.”

“Fine,” you concede, and your voice comes out harsh. “But to be clear, I am not begging.”

He hums a low note, like he’s thinking it over. “Not yet,” he ultimately responds. “See you soon.”

You swallow hard as the call disconnects.

The time it takes for the car to arrive is just enough for you to slip back inside and finish your beer, and Jimin’s eyes narrow with frustration when you’re unable to explain yourself.

“Didn’t you just complain that this man was ruining your life?”

“Yes,” you retort. “And then I thought it over, and I decided that’s my job.” Your phone buzzes with the notification that the car is outside, and you quickly swig the last of your drink. “Bye.”

Jimin’s face twists like he’s holding further commentary back, which you didn’t think he was capable of doing without combusting. “Alright, babygirl,” he finally sighs, defeated. “Call me if you need saving.”

“I always do,” you deadpan as you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek.

~*~

Yoongi doesn’t say anything when he opens the door for you, just nods his head to the interior of his apartment to gesture you inside, letting the door swing wider so you can step past him. He shuts it again as you slip your heels off, and it takes you a second to adjust to your true height difference, the fact that you have to look a little further up to meet his gaze now.

“Want a drink?” is his delayed greeting, and you shrug.

“Yeah, okay. Just whatever you’re having.”

Without another word, he turns and heads down the hallway, and you follow after him, taking in your surroundings as you move further inside. It’s only now that it occurs to you how rich he must be. His place is identical to any one of the swanky, million-dollar Hannam apartments of which you’ve spent thousands of hours watching YouTube tours. You try to keep your expression neutral as you follow him into the living room, but it’s hard not to be impressed.

Yoongi crosses the room to a mini-bar, built into the far wall and softly backlit with inset LEDs. You pull your bottom lip into your mouth as you hover nervously for a second, then finally choose to drop down onto the large, L-shaped couch, setting your purse on the floor next to you.

“Thoughts—” When Yoongi’s voice breaks the silence, you start a little, not expecting it. “—on single malt whiskey?” He turns over his shoulder, and you shrug back at him.

“Never met one I didn’t like.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up, just barely. “Alright.” You watch as he grabs a dark green bottle off the shelf, coating the bottom of a glass with the amber liquid inside, then just barely topping up what must be his own drink. He crosses back to the couch, hands you yours, then drops down a respectable distance away from you with a sigh of effort.

The atmosphere is certainly different from what you’d expected, and Yoongi must be able to tell you’re a little on edge, not sure what to do or why you thought coming here was a good idea.

He glances over at you as he swirls the contents of his glass. “Not feeling up for much small talk tonight. Sorry.”

“That’s fine,” you say quickly. “We don’t have to talk.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you grit your teeth in anticipation of the smug smile, the cocky smirk at your unintended double meaning, but it never comes. Yoongi stays just as he is, slouched forward, his eyes unfocused, like he’s got a thousand thoughts running through his mind at once.

You turn sideways on the couch so you can look over the back of it and out of the large picture window behind you, where the city is alive in a blur of light and color, bracketed by the dark swath of the Han River.

Yoongi’s whiskey is strong but smooth, tastes like the bottle probably cost more than the entire bar-tab you and Jimin rang up tonight, and you sip it slowly. The thought of your best friend sparks something in your mind— you find yourself speaking again in spite of your previous statement.

“I just found out that you know my best friend. Park Jimin.”

At this, Yoongi looks up, clearly stunned. “No shit?” You nod, taking another pull from your drink, and he shakes his head. “I haven’t heard that name in years. How is he?”

“He’s good,” you murmur, the sharp taste of alcohol lingering on the back of your tongue. “He’s really good. He actually just performed in the concert I took Jungkook to.”

Yoongi pauses, glass halfway to his lips. “What group is he in? For someone in the industry I am atrocious at keeping up with this shit.”

“Oh, he’s not, he’s just a back-up dancer now. He never debuted.” 

Yoongi nods slowly. “Well. Makes two of us.”

Your chest starts to tighten a little— you’re weirdly nervous to talk to him about this. It feels like uncharted territory. “I can’t believe you were a trainee.”

He leans back, resting his free arm over the back of the couch, fingers tapping idly. “I can’t either, most days. It was a long time ago. Feels like it happened to somebody else.”

Torn between deep curiosity and not wanting to pry, you stare down at the liquid swirling in your glass and leave it up to Yoongi. To your surprise, he keeps talking.

“So what did Jimin tell you about me?”

The unexpected question makes you laugh a little. “Uh… I don’t know. Said you sound like you’re still the same as you were back then. Keeping to yourself and working a lot.”

You don’t know if you should repeat everything, but the liquor loosens your tongue. “He said your parents weren’t very supportive.”

You glance up to see Yoongi shake his head, matter-of-fact. “They were not. So you can imagine how well they took it when I quit.” Your heart sinks at the thought. “Probably put a chip on my shoulder, if I want to be introspective about it. Explains the workaholic tendencies, maybe.”

He takes a longer sip of his drink this time, chasing his swallow with a grimace as he stares at the floor. “It’s funny. I always feel like I have to do better, even now. I get obsessed with work because it’s better than being depressed. And most of the time it feels like there’s nothing else to do anyway. I just work myself to death because it’s my only reason to stay alive.”

Your stomach drops sharply, and you can’t help but look over at him as he continues, feeling thoroughly unprepared for this sudden insight into the inner workings of Min Yoongi.

“It doesn’t even matter what milestones I hit, the fame, the fortune, whatever. I’m going to the fucking Grammys next week and it still doesn’t feel good enough.” His eyes flicker up to find yours, and his voice is quieter now. “Even if I win, I know it won’t. How sad is that?”

“You sound like my dad,” you mutter into your glass, and then your gaze snaps back to Yoongi as you realize what you’ve just said.

He looks as surprised as you feel, and you steady yourself as you take a swig of your drink and swallow it down. Fuck it. If he can overshare, so can you. “Work always came first, before family, before everything. And you know what happened? He dropped dead in his office before he even turned fifty. They said it was probably stress.”

There’s a flash of something in Yoongi’s eyes, but he doesn’t try to interrupt you.

“It makes me so mad,” you say, and you will yourself not to get emotional, your grip on your drink tightening slightly. “Because he worked so fucking hard thinking that once he got to a certain place, he’d be happy. Just a little more, then he could relax. But he never got there. He worked non-stop his whole life and then he fucking died. That’s it.

“And you know what’s really fucked up?” You don’t wait for Yoongi to respond— you can’t stop it all from coming out now, like a tap turned on high.

“People say grief makes you resilient, that it makes you stronger, or kinder, that we go through these things and they’re hard but you learn from them and grow or whatever the fuck. And I don’t feel like any of that shit is true for me. My dad died, and I just got worse.” A self-deprecating laugh flutters out around your words. “I’m selfish. I’m lazy. I make terrible choices. I deeply cannot fucking stand myself, if I’m honest with you. Jimin is like the one friend I still keep in touch with who knew me when my dad was alive, because everyone else just… didn’t know what to do with me. And I don’t blame them.

“And it makes me feel like such a fucking asshole, because he died, and I’m sitting here complaining about me. It’s like I don’t even miss him as much as I just miss… the way things used to be. The person I used to be.” You let yourself take a breath, but the final thought, the part you don’t usually say out loud, slips out with it. “It’s like she died, too.”

There’s a long pause that feels like an eternity, and you realize your heart is racing in your chest. You lean back against the couch with a sigh of frustration, too embarrassed at your own word vomit to do anything but stare at the stupidly high ceiling. You’re so wrapped up in the rush of saying it all— it’s been a while since you’ve gone this deep with anyone— that it takes you a second to notice that Yoongi is laughing softly.

“Wow. And here I thought you were just a slacker.”

The words make you glance over at him. You haven’t divulged these feelings to many people, but nearly everyone you’ve told has responded the same: awkward apologies, shitty words of affirmation you didn’t ask for, waxing poetic bullshit lies about how you’re not a bad person. A road paved with good intentions, things meant to console you that only make you want to scream. 

But Yoongi gives you none of that. He just nods, like he understands.

“Well,” you counter, trying not to let the shock read on your face. “I thought you were just an asshole.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I am an asshole. I’ll own that.” He smirks into his glass as he takes another sip of his drink. “Do you want to know something?”

“What?”

He suddenly pauses, like he’s not sure how to word it, like he maybe regrets asking the question at all. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so hesitant before. “You have to not make a big deal about it.”

“Okay,” you say simply. You’re willing to return the favor.

“The night I left the studio door unlocked, and there was the break-in,” Yoongi starts, his thumb fiddling with the ring on his index finger. Something twists in your stomach, an intuition you can’t explain that makes it immediately clear to you what he’s about to say. “I wasn’t thinking about locking up that night because I... was planning to kill myself.”

It’s like all the air is sucked out of the room, and you will yourself not to react, gripping your glass until your knuckles blanch. Your eyes drop to the floor as you try to process the weight of his words.

“But you didn’t,” you reply dumbly.

“No, I didn’t. I walked up and down the bridge over the river for a long time. Probably an hour, maybe more, I don’t know.” You look up to the window again, tracing the inkblot snake of the river in the distance.

“I thought about it, and then I decided to go home. I thought that maybe I could give it just one more day and see what happened. And then when I got to work the next day, I was in such deep shit about the break-in, I felt like everyone would blame themselves if I did it after that. Like they’d think they were too hard on me.” He laughs bitterly to himself. “Like I’m not always the one who is hardest on myself.”

“Yoongi,” you breathe. “I don’t know what to say.”

He shrugs. “You don’t have to say anything. It just feels nice to tell someone.”

There’s a heavy silence between you, and heat rushes to your face as the words leave your mouth before you can stop them. “I’m glad you didn’t do it.”

He glances over at you, brows pinched together like he doesn’t believe you. “You hate me.”

“I do not!” The insistence in your voice surprises even you. In an attempt to ground yourself, you press your palm to the side of your drink and try to focus on the feeling, the cool surface against your flushed skin. “I mean, I definitely did. But now, I don’t know. Would I really be wasting my Saturday night here if I hated you?”

Yoongi pauses with his glass halfway to his mouth, and you can see him fighting to keep a smile off his face. “Look at me, you came over here to fuck and I turned it into a therapy session. Christ.”

With a final shake of his head, he downs the last of his drink in one swallow. “You want a tour?”

You follow Yoongi as he takes a winding path through the various rooms of his apartment, and you continue to sip at your drink, barely processing any of what he shows you. Your mind is still spinning from the conversation, and that paired with the cotton fuzz of strong liquor makes everything feel muted and far away.

As anticipated, the tour ends in his bedroom, which matches the rest of the place: sleek, minimally decorated, and bathed in the soft glow of inset strip lighting that runs the length of the ceiling.

When Yoongi sets his empty glass down on the dresser, you mirror him, then watch as he steps in to close the distance between you. As your eyes search his, you realize you’re once again caught between conflicting versions of Min Yoongi, still trying to reconcile the one you thought you knew with the person who just spilled his guts all over the living room floor. It feels impossible to hold the two of them together in your mind.

Up close, his smirk seems to soften. “You’re a lot shorter without those heels.”

Before you even understand what you’re doing, or why, you take his face in your hands and kiss him. It’s only a split second, your lips barely brushing over his, and then you quickly pull away, struck by the reality of what you’ve just done.

“Shit,” you breathe, dropping your hands and taking a step back. You stumble slightly as a hot wave of shame rushes up in your chest. “Sorry, I just—”

You don’t get to finish the thought, because Yoongi’s touch is sliding over the curve of your waist, and then he’s dragging you back toward him until his mouth finds yours again. The taste of whiskey lingers on his soft lips as they move against yours— you can’t help but whimper a little at how hungrily he kisses you. Like he’s wanted to do it for a long time.

The idea overwhelms you, and you pull away from him again, your lips still ghosting over his. “Yoongi.” You try your best to sound firm when you say his name, pressing one hand against his chest as you look up at him. “This… can’t mean anything.”

You can feel the heat of his breath when he laughs softly. “It doesn’t have to. I’ve been trying to tell you that.”

Too desperate for his mouth to want to argue, you decide to let him win. “Okay,” you sigh. Your hand is already tangled in his long, dark hair by the time his lips meet yours again.

“Get on the bed,” Yoongi murmurs between kisses, and you do as he says.

Moving backwards, you crawl up toward the pillows while Yoongi crosses the room to hit a panel on the wall, dimming the soft lights overhead until they’re barely there. He comes back to join you, strong hands wordlessly guiding you to lay down beneath him.

It’s weird to not be rushing through this: to feel like you can take your time as he kisses you again, as you lick into his mouth to roll your tongue over his, as one of his hands starts to creep under your skirt to gently rub up and down the length of your thigh.

The motions of his hand push the fabric higher and higher, until it’s as far up as it can go, and he leans back, clearly not satisfied.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, and you nod, sitting up to help as he pulls your dress up over your head.

It occurs to you a beat too late that you’ve never been this naked in front of him before, and your heartbeat flutters. “You too,” you murmur, pinching gently at the hem of Yoongi’s t-shirt, and he smirks as he reaches one hand between his shoulder blades to tug it off entirely.

You take him in as he drops the shirt to his bedroom floor: he’s broad-shouldered in a way you’ve never noticed under all his baggy clothes, with firm definition in the muscles of his chest and arms, and there’s a flush of warm glow to his pale skin.

As you blink up at Yoongi, more than dazed, you realize his eyes are roaming over your body, too. “Fuck,” he swears under his breath, and you resist the sudden urge to hide from his surveying gaze. “You have great tits.”

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that, and the surprise of it makes you laugh.

“Just for that, I’ll let you see them,” you say, unable to keep the teasing edge out of your voice as you lean forward to reach behind your back. Your hands shake a little more than you’d like as you fumble to undo your bra and toss it off the side of the bed to join everything else.

Your nipples stiffen quickly in the cool air of his room, and when you lay back again, Yoongi covers your body with his, the movement paired with a groan that’s nearly a growl. You can’t hold back your own soft sounds as his lips and tongue move down your neck, and it occurs to you now that there’s so much that the two of you have never done before. So many steps you skipped.

Like the way Yoongi cups one of your breasts in his hand, rolling his thumb over your nipple to earn a louder whine from you. “Shit,” you gasp as he does it again, his mouth still trailing kisses between the valley of your breasts.

“God,” Yoongi hisses against your skin. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy.”

With his thumb continuing to work at one nipple, he takes the other into his mouth, and you can feel the way your arousal is starting to soak through your panties as he sucks firmly at the stiff peak. You arch up into him, and then he’s shifting to roll your nipple between his teeth and tug, and you can’t help it— you flinch and yelp beneath him, overwhelmed.

He quickly pulls his mouth off of you, eyes flashing up to find yours. “Sensitive?”

You nod, face flushing, embarrassed. “A little bit of teeth is okay. Too much hurts.”

“Okay,” Yoongi answers softly. He licks up the underside of your breast to pull the bud of it back into his mouth, and the swirl of his tongue there soothes like an apology. When he just barely grazes his teeth across the sensitive peak, it’s enough to make you keen, your eyes rolling back as they flutter closed.

“Oh, fuck, just like that.”

With a wet noise, he pulls off to switch sides, repeating the firm suction, the drag of his tongue, the slightest brush of teeth. His fingers pinch gently at your other nipple, made slick with his spit, and he keeps working you lazily, unhurried, until your body writhes underneath his.

“Yoongi—” You try to catch your breath, and you run a hand through his hair to pull his mouth off of you. His jaw is still dropped open slightly when he meets your gaze. “Touch me.”

His lips pull into a smug smile. “Told you you’d beg.”

Your grip on his hair tightens in response. “Not begging. Ordering.”

Yoongi tuts gently, like he’s disappointed. “I don’t follow orders, sweetheart.”

As much as his teasing irritates you, a twin smile to his spreads across your face. “I’ll kill you,” you murmur, releasing your grip as he shifts back onto his knees.

It gets harder to focus on your bloodlust when his palms run over the curve of your hips, then press between your legs to part your thighs. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he deadpans as his fingers slip under the waistband of your panties and he starts to drag the lace down your legs.

“That’s fucking dark,” you can’t help but laugh as you kick your underwear the rest of the way off.

Yoongi licks his lips, clearly distracted, and you spread yourself wider for him. “This pussy,” he grunts hoarsely, like he’s talking to himself more than you. “Gets so puffy when you want it. All tight inside, too.” He unexpectedly slaps the whole of his hand over your center, and you gasp, your hips jolting up.

You don’t even have time to respond before he’s pressing a finger into you, your cunt squeezing tight enough to reward him with an audible noise as he fucks it in and out. “Fuck,” you groan.

“You get this wet just from having your tits played with, huh?”

The thorough analysis makes you huff a laugh, because he’s not wrong, and it stutters into a moan when his thumb gently starts to circle your clit.

“God,” you manage to choke out, “you’re fucking chatty tonight.”

Yoongi smirks, and you’re not sure why until he speaks again, his voice now pinched in a clear imitation as he withdraws his hand. “I’m sorry, is there somewhere you’d rather I put my mouth?”

Your jaw drops in disbelief as he repeats your own stupid tease from weeks ago back to you. “I’ve changed my mind,” you snap, sitting up a little, and Yoongi glances at you, already in the midst of settling between your spread thighs. “I do still hate you.”

“That’s fine,” he says with a shrug, and then he leans in to lick a thick, wet stripe up your slit. His mouth is immediately dizzying, and you drop your head back against the pillow, overwhelmed.

It’s another thing you’ve never done before, at least not with Min Yoongi. As he repeats the motion over and over, lazy long strokes where he drags his tongue from your entrance all the way up to circle your clit, you mentally kick yourself for every missed chance, every opportunity to have his mouth that you didn’t take.

“What the fuck,” you breathe.

Yoongi just barely pulls off of you, close enough that a string of your arousal is still joined to his lower lip when he speaks. “You’re not the only one with good head game here.”

He dives in again like he’s determined to immediately prove his point, and you shove your legs open wider as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

As much as you’d like to bruise his ego, it’s impossible to keep yourself from moaning when he pairs the firm suction with the press of his index finger back into your tight heat. As wet as he’s made you, he’s easily able to slide a second in beside it now, and your nails scratch helplessly over the sheets beneath you.

“Yoongi,” you gasp as he curls his digits to beckon inside you, stroking over your front wall and easily finding the spot that makes you gush. He does it again and again, like a button press, working up more and more arousal until you’re dripping down his wrist.

Even the way he hums against your pussy sounds like a smirk, but you’re too far gone to care. Yoongi starts to flick his tongue steadily over your clit, matching the rhythm of his fingers pumping into your g-spot, and you can feel the pressure in your core building, a band pulled tight enough to snap.

Your hips buck up toward his mouth in an overwhelmed reflex, and Yoongi’s free hand is immediately there like he was expecting it. His palm presses firmly to your lower abdomen to hold you down and keep you there, and even that feels good too, renders you entirely helpless to his mouth and his hands as he takes you apart.

“Fuck,” you moan, loud and unabashed now. “Fuck, yes, I’m—”

The feeling overtakes you before you can get another word out, and you nearly sob as your orgasm rips through you, your whole body straining hard against Yoongi’s strong hand as he pins you to the bed. The extra pressure on your core pushes a rush of fluid out of your cunt, enough to soak the sheets beneath you as your muscles contract around Yoongi’s fingers.

“Oh my god,” he doesn’t even pull away to groan, and the low vibration of the words against your throbbing clit makes your thighs tremble.

There’s a wet smack of his lips and tongue as he finally relents, the pace of his fingers slowing as he continues to work you through the aftershocks. You desperately try to remember how to breathe as you start to come down.

Yoongi is a fucking sight when he leans back to look up at you: long hair falling in his face, eyes dark with lust, lips and chin slick with your arousal. “Did you seriously just squirt?”

It’s been a long time since anyone has managed to make it happen, and you suddenly feel overwhelmed in a different way. Still recovering, you can barely get the words out. “Shut up.”

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘shut up’? It was hot,” Yoongi grunts, and you’re at least grateful that you don’t have to have the ‘it’s not pee’ conversation right now. He ducks his head down again as he withdraws his fingers, and his tongue drags up the crux of your thighs to chase a few stray droplets. You squirm, oversensitive, your legs nearly snapping shut around his neck, and he takes the cue to back off with a soft laugh.

You’re too spent to fight it when he starts to manhandle you a little, palms slipping under your ass to drag you further down the bed until your hips are flush with his, then encouraging your knees to pull up toward your chest. “Think you can do that on my cock?”

The question sparks something in your core, the first lick of a freshly lit flame, and you prop yourself up on your forearms to better meet his gaze. “Make me.”

Yoongi’s appreciative smile is nearly a snarl, and he shifts lower on the bed to quickly strip out of his pants and boxers. You watch as he starts to crawl back up your body, anticipation tightening in your core, and then a flash of realization crosses his face and he freezes.

“Fuck,” he swears, and your stomach drops.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot I’m out of condoms.” Your eyes widen as his gaze meets yours. “Do you have any?”

You shake your head. “Not with me.”

A muscle in his jaw works as he exhales a resigned sigh, and you reach out, one hand finding his bicep to stop him before he leaves. You want it too much, bad idea or not. “Just… fuck me anyway.”

His expression goes deadly serious, and there’s a long moment before he responds. “You’re sure?”

You swallow hard as you nod, your eyes searching his. “Just pull out, okay?” You hate yourself for saying the final word before it even leaves your lips. “Please.”

“Okay,” Yoongi repeats back to you, and his hands press to your thighs again to encourage your knees up as he positions himself between your legs. There’s a feeling humming in the space between your bodies, like the reality of the situation has settled over the both of you. The reckless abandon of the previous moment is gone, replaced with something slower, more hesitant. Heavier.

With your eyes fixed on his face, you feel it first: the weight and warmth of his cock grinding over your slit, sliding easily with how soaked you are. You look down to see it for yourself, flushed dark and hard enough to leak precum, trailing a glossy sheen over your folds as Yoongi guides it against you, one hand gripped firmly to the base. He teases the head of his dick over your clit and keeps it there, and you’re still sensitive enough to whimper at the feeling.

“Please,” you repeat, and he’s too focused to be smug about it. He just nods as he drags his cock back down to your entrance, then braces one hand against your thigh and starts to push in.

You exhale softly at the welcome stretch, familiar made new at the lack of anything between you. You can feel it all: the thick swell of the head of his cock as he eases you open, how he throbs gently as your walls squeeze around him, so tight that you can even feel the prominent veins that trace down his shaft.

You’re still wet and getting wetter from the way he fills you up entirely, your arousal drenching the length of him when he bottoms out with an audible slick sound. His cock twitches, buried to the hilt, and even that barely-there motion is enough to coax a breathy moan from you.

“Shit,” Yoongi laughs softly, and the tinge of humility to his voice makes you glance up at him again. “Not gonna be able to go that fast. Feels too good.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “Just…”

The words won’t come. It would mean too much to say what you want, and this isn’t supposed to mean anything at all.

So you don’t say them: you just hook your arms over his shoulders and pull his mouth down to yours. “Just fuck me,” you murmur against his lips. He grunts a low note of appreciation as he kisses you, as he starts to drag his cock out of you just to fuck it back in again.

It’s shallow, it’s slow, it’s nothing like what you’re used to with Yoongi, but it’s good. Good enough to make your kisses sloppy when you trade open-mouthed breaths, good enough to make you tilt your head and slide the flat of your tongue over Yoongi’s unabashedly, like an earned reward.

He pushes your knees up a little more, thrusting deeper this time, and the new angle drags the head of his cock right over your g-spot. You whine at the heavy weight of him, the shudder that ripples through you in response, and he stays there, stroking steadily to rub that spot again and again until your eyes roll back in your head.

“Oh my god, Yoongi,” you gasp into his mouth.

“Shit,” he groans shakily, reaching one hand up to brush his hair out of his eyes. A few dark strands stick to the sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Squeezing me so fucking tight.”

Your arousal coils hot and fast inside of you as he keeps thrusting, and you have to break away from kissing him to tip your head back on the pillow and moan. “Fuck, please don’t stop, I’m—”

It feels like the final second before your climax when Yoongi pulls out, sitting back on his knees between your spread legs with a low groan. The sudden loss of his cock makes your walls clench at nothing, and you whine, petulant. “Yoongi!”

“Sorry,” he mutters, breathless. “Almost came.” You glance up to see him squeezing at the base of his cock with one hand, his chest heaving with effort. Your hips tilt up toward him, jealous.

“I miss your cock,” you whine, fucked close enough to be shameless.

“You’ll get it,” he retorts, and then you feel three of his fingers press in to fill the space he left behind inside of you. “Want to make you come again first.”

You keen as he starts to pump them, wrist angled just right to meet your g-spot each time. “Oh fuck, Yoongi.” The arousal in your core aches as he fucks you open on his fingers, and you can hear how wet you are in the soaked squelch of your needy pussy, can feel it leaking down your thighs.

His thumb brushes over your clit with every upstroke of his hand, and it makes you gasp, your moans starting to pitch higher. “Harder, baby, please, I’m so close.”

Too lost in the feeling, you barely notice when Yoongi laughs a little, but he does as you ask, and the way he pounds into you is just enough to work you over the edge. Waves of pleasure rip through your body as you come for a second time, squirting a little on his sheets again, your thighs shaking violently.

“That’s it, there you go, fuck,” Yoongi groans appreciatively at the sight.

You’ve just barely made it past your peak, still shuddering all over, when Yoongi withdraws his fingers to shove his cock back in again, and you keen.

He thrusts like a man close to his own end, fast and hard, his breath coming in ragged pants of effort and pleasure. Your pussy pulses around him, squeezing like a vice, so swollen with sensitivity that it really does feel like he’s splitting you open every time he fucks into you.

You moan unabashedly now and cling to him all over, legs bracketing his snapping hips, nails of one hand digging into his shoulder, the other hand tangled in his hair. Your cunt throbs and gushes around him as he strokes, and it still feels like you’re coming: you can’t tell if it’s an intensely drawn-out second orgasm or if the hot stretch of his cock worked you seamlessly into a third.

When he finally pulls out, you drop back against the bed with an exhausted groan, every inch of you fucked into oblivion. You can barely focus your eyes to watch as Yoongi shoves his hips up to straddle yours, one hand working his cock until his release overtakes him.

He flattens both palms to the mattress as he starts to come, groaning softly and rocking his hips so that his cock grinds against your stomach. The head of his dick twitches visibly, leaking pulse after pulse of sticky gloss over your skin, and he smears his cock through it as he ruts against you. He keeps going, rolling his hips and rubbing the mess across your stomach until he’s thoroughly spent, until you’re both flushed and sticky all over.

“Holy fucking shit,” is all he can manage when he finally collapses down on the bed next to you.

You glance over at him and nod, trying to imply without speaking that the feeling is mutual. He meets your gaze, and you lay like that for several long minutes of silence as your breathing slows, eyes fixed on each other as your heartbeats race through the comedown.

It’s hard to believe that any part of tonight has been real, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking the same thing.

As the post-orgasm glow starts to settle, exhaustion hits you like a train. You groan, breaking the prolonged eye contact to throw an arm over your face, blocking out Yoongi’s bedroom with the crook of your elbow.

You’re not expecting it when he softly says your name, and something in your gut tells you that whatever’s coming isn’t good. You will yourself not to look back again, to stay as still as a statue when you answer him. “Hmm?”

“You know Jungkook is in love with you, right?”

The plan to not move goes out the window at his words. Your pulse spikes, and you drop your arm to look at him, your face twisted in confusion. “What?!”

Yoongi studies your expression for a second, then makes a small hum of surprise. “Interesting. I figured you were just trying to let him down easy.”

“I— what?”

“You really didn’t know?” He scoffs, and his tone is enough to instantly make you set your jaw. “It’s pretty obvious. It’s funny, I guess he’s sort of inadvertently responsible for all of this.”

That takes a second to sink in, and you blink. “How?”

Yoongi stares up at the ceiling, seemingly nonplussed. “Well, when he asked me for the code to my office, I figured he wanted to take you in there and fuck you.”

Hot blood rushes to your chest, and you sit up a little. “You talked to Jungkook about fucking me?”

“No.” Yoongi blinks. “This was before anything happened. I haven’t told him anything. It was just clear he liked you, even back then, because I have eyes. So I was trying to do him a favor. He’s a good kid.”

You squint, still trying to catch up. “Why would Jungkook fuck me in your office?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s the only door that locks. Sometimes you get desperate.” You swallow the immediate urge to argue when your brain unhelpfully reminds you that you have in fact fucked Yoongi at the office. Twice.

“But you know, I figured he’d wine you, dine you, all that romantic crap first. I’m sure he’s a very respectable sex on the third date kind of guy.” That all-too-familiar smirk is back when he glances over at you again. “I guess neither of us realized who we were dealing with.”

You open and close your mouth a few times before you can remember how to speak. “I’m not having this conversation with you. Particularly not with your cum still on my stomach.”

Yoongi nods toward the en-suite. “There’s towels in there. Or you can shower if you want.”

Your head spins as you silently slip out of his bed, and you shut the bathroom door firmly behind you, wishing you could leave that entire conversation on the other side of it. Maybe his fancy shower will get hot enough to blast all the thoughts out of your brain, you reason, and it only takes a bit of fumbling with the knobs before you figure it out.

The water pressure is so much better than what you’re used to that you groan a little when you step under the spray. You turn in a semicircle, letting it beat down on your neck and shoulders as you close your eyes, willing the tension to melt out of your body. You really are exhausted, practically asleep on your feet, despite the way your mind is still racing.

You don’t know why you came here tonight. You don’t know what you thought would happen. You don’t know what makes you keep coming back to Yoongi, over and over, like a moth to a flame, like the definition of insanity. You don’t know why he opened up to you tonight, or why you decided to do the same— or what the fuck compelled him to say that Jungkook is in love with you. You don’t know if things are supposed to stay the same after tonight, or if they will be irrevocably different, and you don’t know which you’d even want.

You have no idea what you want, actually. Another drink would be nice.

The sound of the shower door opening startles you, pulling you up from your thought spiral, and your eyes snap open to see Yoongi shutting the door behind him. Without a word, he steps in to crowd you under the water, and you hate the way your heartbeat flutters when he’s close to you.

“What are you—” you try to ask, but you don’t get to finish the sentence before his hand cups your jaw and his mouth finds yours.

His kiss blots everything else from your brain, and in this moment, you’re grateful for it. You lean into him, letting him in deeper when his tongue traces your bottom lip, whimpering softly as his other hand presses to the small of your back to pull you closer.

You don’t know what he wants, either. Why he came in here. But you have a guess.

“Yoongi,” you murmur against his lips. “I can’t again. I’m so tired.”

“It’s okay,” he answers softly, and then his mouth drags you back in like a riptide.

You don’t know how long you stay there like that, kissing him under the steam and the spray, but you’re breathless when you finally pull away to look up at him. Water droplets are twined through his long, dark hair, collecting delicately on his eyelashes, trailing down his neck and over the muscles of his chest.

“You can sleep here tonight, if you want,” Yoongi offers, and before you can even process the words, he’s stepping back to push the shower door open behind him, and then he’s gone.

With the glass fogged over completely from the heat of the water, and the white noise of the fan overhead, you have no concept of when he leaves the bathroom, or what else he might be doing. You just know you feel entirely alone.

After scrubbing yourself thoroughly with a washcloth that you lather in Yoongi’s soap, you emerge from the shower, grabbing a towel from the linen cabinet to wrap up in. It’s weird to smell like him, sandalwood and musk, somehow both comforting and alienating.

When you nudge open the door to his room again, it’s empty, and the inset lighting has been turned off entirely, the room bathed only in the glow of the bedside lamp that’s been switched on.

He’s left out one of his t-shirts for you, and you recognize it as one you’ve seen him in often at work. You remember Googling the label once out of curiosity and nearly passing out at your desk when you saw the three hundred dollar price tag. You pull it on over your head, then return to the bathroom to hang your towel up.

As you slip back into the bedroom, you can’t help but wonder where Yoongi’s disappeared off to, but you’re too exhausted to go looking for him.

Though you figure he’ll be in eventually, your heart still sinks a little as you pull back the covers and crawl into his bed. It feels so much bigger when you’re the only one in it. You decide to leave the lamp on, then turn over to press your cheek to the pillow, and the waves of sleep almost immediately pull you under.

You’re still alone when you wake up in the morning, the other side of the bed entirely undisturbed. 

Blinking slowly, it takes you a moment to remember where you are, and then the night comes back to you piece by piece. The lamp on the nightstand is still on when you sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed.

Yawning and rubbing sleep from your eyes, you push open Yoongi’s bedroom door and pad down the hallway, trying to make sense of things. You have to retrace your steps all the way back to the living room before you find him, curled up on his side on the couch with one arm tucked under his head, still sleeping soundly.

He looks smaller like this. More vulnerable, maybe.

You wonder if you should’ve asked him to join you in his bed, and you wonder why he didn’t. Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, you decide to let him rest.

You move through his apartment aimlessly, like a patron in a museum. Something cracks open inside of you as you allow yourself to take in his place undisturbed, and with it, what could be. The idea that a night spent here could feel normal. The two of you in the clearly well-used kitchen, how you might sit on the counter with a glass of wine while he cooks dinner. Talking about your days, about the past and the future. Sharing a life. Fucking and showering and falling asleep in his bed, tangled up together.

For something so close, it feels impossibly far away in the harsh light of morning. It feels like something meant for a much better person than you.

When you make it all the way back to his room, you peel your borrowed shirt off and drape it across his bed like you found it. You retrieve your clothes from last night off the floor and pull them back on.

Thankfully Yoongi chose to fall asleep on the far side of the couch, so when you re-enter the living room, you’re easily able to grab your purse where you set it down the night before without waking him. You slip your heels on in his entryway, then open the front door and shut it as quietly as you can behind you.

You fish your phone out of your bag and scroll until you find Jimin’s contact, then press it to your ear as the line starts to ring.

~*~

You don’t hear from Yoongi at all on Sunday, and you barely see him at work the next few days. You don’t know why it surprises you. It makes sense. You said that night had to mean nothing, you left in the morning without another word, and it’s not like you’ve made any effort to reach out since.

But nevertheless, hurt feelings sit heavy in the pit of your stomach, stinging like salt in an open wound. You’re angry that Yoongi seems to be acting like nothing even happened. You’re annoyed that you have to spend an entire weekend alone with him in Los Angeles. And you’re pissed off that you have so much fucking work to do in preparation for a trip that’s all about him.

You keep your head down and just try to fucking survive. You stay silent in your meetings unless directly asked a question. You type furiously at your desk, forever behind on emails and late on promised deliverables.

The week passes by in a blur, and it doesn’t even occur to you what day it is until you find Jungkook waiting for you at your desk when you return from an afternoon meeting.

“Hi, Jungkook.” You try to say it gently, to not take your frustrations out on someone who didn’t even do anything. While you’ve made polite small talk all week, things certainly haven’t felt normal, and you can’t tell if he senses it too, or if you’re just letting Yoongi’s cryptic words plant imaginary strange vibes in your head.

To his credit, Jungkook seems unfazed. “It’s the last day before your trip!” he says brightly, and your eyes widen as you realize he’s right. “What’s the rest of your day look like?”

You take a seat at your desk and pull up your calendar to check, and he circles around to look with you. “That was thankfully my last meeting,” you respond. “Just getting back to my never-ending to-do list now.”

“Or…” Jungkook prompts, and you glance up to see him leaning forward to rest his elbows on the back of your desk chair, his chin propped cutely in his hands. “You could not do that.”

You blink up at him. “And what would I be doing instead?”

“I was thinking, it’s been a while since we’ve had a walking meeting. Plus it’s actually nice out. So you should take a break.”

Glancing back at your to-do list sends a fresh wave of dread through you, and then you snap your laptop shut with a resigned sigh. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

Not only could you use the break, but you want things with Jungkook to feel normal again, even if the weirdness is only in your head. Maybe this is what you need.

Down in the lobby, Jungkook holds the door for you, and when you step outside, you realize he’s right. It’s one of those clear-sky early spring days, warm enough out that it feels like the world is starting over, like everything is coming back to life. You can’t help but feel like you could use a fresh start, too.

Though you expect to be led somewhere with food, Jungkook takes a different route instead, and you follow him a few blocks over to the entrance of a nearby park. You end up side by side on a paved pedestrian path, the length of which is lined with trees that have only just begun to bud.

It’s quiet, save for the distant noise of the city, the rustle of nature, and the rush of the occasional cyclist whizzing past. You walk slowly as you chat about nothing of importance: work, music, his dogs.

Jungkook glances over at you during a moment’s pause, with a look on his face like there’s a question he’s been waiting to ask. “So how are you feeling about your trip?”

You can’t quite manage to keep your expression neutral, your eyes rolling like a reflex. “Whatever. I just want to get it over with.”

“Ah.” Jungkook nods, and you can see he’s biting back some reaction. “For some reason I thought you might be excited.”

“What do you mean?”

He just shrugs. “I don’t know. You’ve been… different lately. About Suga. I thought maybe something was going on.” An uneasy feeling starts to wash over you.

“Nothing is going on with me and Yoongi,” you say, far too quickly. Jungkook glances at you, his brows pinched together slightly as if he’s unsure what to believe.

“Okay,” he says simply. You hope that’s the end of it, but then he keeps going. “That’s good. I’m glad I don’t have to tell you to raise your standards.”

Heat rushes into your face, caught somewhere between shame and anger. “Um, what does that mean?”

You grit your teeth when he just shrugs again. “I don’t know. He was such a jerk to you, and then suddenly it’s like you guys are hanging out and getting close and stuff—”

“We are not close,” you interject, and you hate how unsteady your voice sounds when you say it.

“Good,” Jungkook responds. “Because I thought maybe you might be, and it didn’t make any sense to me.”

Overwhelmed by his words, you come to a standstill on the pavement, and he makes it a few steps further before he realizes. As he turns back to face you, the words rush out before you can stop them. “I mean, I don’t see how it’s any of your business either way.”

Jungkook’s brow furrows again. “It’s my business because I care about you. He made you so miserable when you first started, so I don’t see how you could just forget about that and be into him, especially when you could…” He trails off and looks down, unwilling to finish the sentence.

“When I could what?” Another fucking shrug, and you can feel the rage inside you simmering now, threatening to boil over. Yoongi’s question comes back to haunt you— you know Jungkook is in love with you, right?— and the pieces start to slot together in front of you.

“When I could be into you?” you press him, taking an accusatory step closer. “Is that what you want to say?”

His gaze flits up to the trees above you, like he’s willing to look anywhere but your face. “No. I don’t know.”

The birdsong in the air has suddenly started to sound a lot more like screaming, and you have to suppress the urge to do the same. Instead, your voice comes out low and deadly serious. “You and I are friends, Jungkook. Just friends.”

“I know we are,” he says softly.

“Do you?” you snap back, vicious now. “Because it sounds to me like you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he responds automatically, in the same tone, and you scoff.

“Look me in my face and say it.” You take another step toward him, and his eyes meet yours. He’s silent long enough for you to understand the truth, and all at once, you feel like a fucking idiot.

“Let me make this clear to you,” you hiss. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and making my own decisions. And I do not have to explain or justify them to anyone, including you, because you are not my fucking boyfriend.”

When you spit the final word, Jungkook flinches like you’ve slapped him, but you can’t stop now. You’re so angry, it feels like it’s eating you alive. “When I want your opinion, as my friend, I’ll ask for it. Understood?”

You’ve never seen him look at you the way he does now, his eyes dark, his face twisted into a near grimace. There’s a long pause, and his voice is stilted when he finally speaks. “Yeah. Sorry I brought it up.”

The two of you walk back to the office in total silence, and Jungkook doesn’t try to talk to you again.

~*~

It’s early enough to still be pitch black outside when Jimin pulls up to the curb of your terminal at Incheon Airport.

“Thanks again for driving.” You yawn around the words as you reach down to unbuckle your seatbelt. When Jimin suddenly pulls you in for a hug, you groan at the affection, but he pays it no mind, dotting kisses over your hair that make you squirm.

“Love you, have fun. And be a slut!”

You roll your eyes as you manage to peel him off of you. “Bye, Baby Mochi.”

Slipping on a face mask, you push the door of his car open and climb out of the passenger seat. You swing open the trunk to grab your suitcase, then slam it shut again and step up onto the curb.

Making your way into the terminal, you dig your phone out of your bag to double-check the text from Yoongi, and then you glance up at the sign overhead to confirm you’re right where he said he’d be.

It takes a second for you to realize the person walking in your direction is Min Yoongi. The black baseball cap pulled low over his eyes is certainly not a bad look, but when paired with his black face mask, it makes him almost impossible to identify, or get a good read on. Rolling your suitcase ahead of you, you move toward him, and the two of you meet in the middle.

You wore sneakers today, so he still seems tall.

“Hi,” you say simply, a thousand different emotions swirling in your gut. You do your best to ignore them all.

Yoongi hums a wordless grunt back in response, then turns to face the already bustling security line. You mirror him, and for a moment the two of you just stay like that, like you’re standing firmly in the present and unsure of what might be waiting on the other side.

He gives a tired sigh. “Ready?” You’re surprised to learn he can speak this early in the morning. 

“I guess so,” you answer.

Perfectly in sync, you both push your bags forward, stepping carefully toward a weekend that feels impossible to imagine.

chapter seven | masterlist | chapter nine

[hopelesslyromanticposts]

why i hate fantasy.

tw: mild gore.

okay hear me out before i get declarations of war sent to my dms

fantasy is essentially the dreams of mankind. hope. longing. stuff like that. we dream to have the powers of gods, though it's obvious that in a way, we are gods, since we created so many universes in the forms of books.

yet, is that really a good thing? look at us. you can't tell me that no one here has ever wanted to be in another world than this. come on guys. we've all wanted to be in harry potter, or some other world. maybe we wanted to be the child of a duke in england who was being courted by a handsome yet poor knight. maybe we wanted to be a ruler of a flourishing egypt who ruled the empire with the general as their secret lover. maybe we wanted to be in a world of cyborgs where we could genetically modify our bodies so that we could throw the empire state building into the pacific. maybe we wanted to grow wings and press our lips to the burning surface of the sun, or wrap our arms around the cool, milky surface of the earth, or grasp the stars and decorate our hair with them.

tell me you haven't longed for kisses underneath moonlight. tell me you haven't longed to be slammed against a wall and kissed so desperately, as though your partner was trying to swallow your soul and truly make you theirs. tell me you haven't longed to sway with them under the anonymity of black with no one but the stars watching in envy. tell me you haven't longed for someone who you could rip apart and watch them fall between your fingers as broken pieces, and easily put them back together. tell me you haven't longed for someone to not brush your tears away, but defend and avenge them with their life.

i dare you to tell me you haven't longed for heated gazes across a ballroom, biting lips behind the decency of a medieval fan, knuckles brushing against each other, hands gripping your hips tighter than necessary as you float across the ballroom, someone clasping your hand and looking into your eyes as though they held the universe in them, hugs so tight you feel like you both will merge into one like you were meant to be, a chase through the halls of an abandoned castle, indecency hidden by the status you hold in society, warm strong arms being the only protection you have against the frigid cold raindrops that pelted your skin, a soft warm body against yours while you both snuggle into sheets, hot kisses against aching raw lips that leave you wanting more, more until your mouth filled with the taste of coppery metal, and more still.

you do, don't you? you long for something akin to this, if not exactly this.

this is fantasy love. scars that are simply made out of makeup, sometimes scars that are covered in makeup. glass that's stained and will shatter, like illusions do. they whisper honey-dipped lies in your ears, tell you that your eyes shine with the fire in their soul, that your skin is littered with the stars of their universe, before leaving you gasping in your bed at 4 am with hot tears streaming down your salty wet cheeks as you realize that it was too good to be true.

real love isn't that. real love is twisted, ugly, purple scars that mar their skin, bared teeth at the first sign of danger to their vulnerability. real love is sharp daggers against tender skin, it's pain and screams and wails as they rip your chest open, tear your heart out, and run off, leaving you with a gaping, bleeding hole, and nothing to fill. sometimes, they give it back to you, with a chunk missing. sometimes, they never give it back. it isn't prince charming and cinderella or bad boy billy and gorgeous gal gemma. it isn't popular patrick and nerdy noah. its you with someone who you would've never dreamed of loving. someone you would look at and shout, "why?! why them?!" because they have nothing desirable, until your heart says "just watch" and takes you on a journey, until you're left on your knees in front of them, begging for their love.

but that's the thing about real love, it isn't beautiful. it's twisted. it's ugly. it's disgusting, but it's love. and, yeah, maybe it's poetic in a way. but it certainly isn't a poem.

thing is, being so used to seeing fantasy love and thinking "that's true love", you begin to look at real love and think "that isn't love", when it is. it is love, just real. maybe she can't bring you heaven to make you smile, but she'll bring hell to anyone who makes you cry. maybe he can't give you the moon, but darling, he'll steal the fire of the sun and place it in your eyes. maybe they can't create a new world for you, but my love, they'll set this world on fire if you desire it.

[juanarc-thethird]

How would Yang and Winter explain to Ruby and Weiss that they are both with Jaune? And how would the younger sister respond to that?

In a living room, Yang and Winter are sitting on a couch, ready to make an announcement to their sisters. Her sisters are sitting on the other side of them and each one is sitting in her own chair.

Yang: Ruby

Winter: Weiss

Yang: We are calling you here today because we have something to announce to you.

Winter: It's about our love life.

Weiss: *surprised* You two are dating!

Ruby: *Smiles* Oh I can't believe it!

Yang: No we are not, well partly yes, but it's not just us two dating.

Weiss: What do you mean?

Winter: Let me show you. *She glances back toward a door* You may come in!

Jaune: Excuse me.

Jaune opens the door and sits between Yang and Winter.

Weiss: Wait, don't tell me that-

Ruby: You guys are dating jaune!!!!!

Yang: *Hugs his arm* Yep

Winter: *Hugs his other arm* Affirmative.

Weiss: Wha-! When, Why, How?!!

Winter: Well, I think that's very easy to explain. *To yang* Do you want to start or should I go first?

Yang: I go first. You see Ruby, it all started when Beacon fell. You wanted to go save the world, but I stayed home depressed. I should have gone with you, but I didn't. Then when I saw you in Mistral and you told me your stories of your trip, that made me notice Jaune. He being the weakest of our group followed you all the way. He had the courage that I and the rest of our team don't have to follow you into the unknown. He protected you, motivated you, and even helped our uncle when he was hurt. How can I not fall in love with someone like that?

Ruby: Well, if you put it like that...

Yang: Also look at those muscles, so big and strong. And his hands, oh god, his hands are big and manly. Every time he-

Jaune: *Blushing and tries to look serious.* Yang, I think that is too much information for them.

Yang: Oops, sorry.

Winter: Well leaving that aside. In my case, it was the same. Weiss, when you got here I was surprised. I didn't think that you would be able to leave everything behind and face anyone who is in your way. But that's my fault, for me you've always been my little sister. You have grown up so much.

Weiss: *Smiles* Thank you, Winter.

Winter: And when you told me about your adventures, I realized that you are capable of much more. But even knowing this, that didn't stop me from worrying about you. When you told me that you almost died at the hands of Cinder, I wondered "How many times was my sister in a situation so close to death?" That scared me. But then you told me how you survived. Jaune used her semblance to heal such a serious wound. He saved your life and he gave me more time to spend with you. After that I began to observe him and I noticed that he is an excellent leader and a great friend. He always takes care of the weak and goes out of his way to be stronger so he can help you. A man with that heart is hard to find. So I took a leap of faith and fell in love with him.

Weiss: Winter, I didn't know you felt this way.

Winter: And I agree with Yang. He is so hot, every time I see his chest exposed, I just want to throw him on the bed and-

Jaune: *Blushing* Winter, please behave.

Winter: Yes Daddy~

Weiss: Daddy?!

Ruby: Ok, but that doesn't explain why you two date him at the same time.

Yang: *Blushing* Well, is a funny story.

Winter: *Blushing* Indeed. You see, when I watched him I realized that Yang was also interested in Jaune. So I got more aggressive.

Yang: And then I realize how aggressive she was flirting with my Jaune, so I started doing the same

Winter: We did many things to get our Jaune's attention.

Weiss: Like what?

Yang: A touch of leg here, showing a nipple there.

Weiss: Winter, tell me you didn't do such indecent things.

Winter: I didn't do those things.

Weiss: Thank god.

Winter: I let him feel my ass at our workouts.

Weiss: *Covering her face in embarrassment* Oh my Oum.

Ruby: So then what happen?

Yang: Well I decided to put all my cards on the table, and I took a risk.

Ruby: What did you do?

Yang: I paid a night visit to Jaune.

Weiss: How indecent!

Yang: But I wasn't the only one with that idea. Winter appeared at the same time.

Winter: The two of us, after seeing each other outside her door, started fighting.

Yang: Jaune then shows up and stops us. He let us into our room and asked why we fight

Winter: So I, well, the two of us used that opportunity to tell him that we're in love with him and ask him who he would pick.

Weiss: *To Jaune* And you said you'd take them both?! You're disgusting!

Jaune: I actually turned them both down.

Weiss: What?!

Ruby: Why?

Jaune: After what happened to Pyrrha, I was scared to approach another woman and see the same thing happen to her. I don't know what I would do if that happened. Also, they are good friends of mine and I didn't want to lose that. It was complicated for me.

Winter: Yang and I, hearing that, took a look at each other and at that moment we realized. Jaune deserves to be happy.

Yang: That night, we both decided to go out with him.

Jaune: I tried to refuse, but…

Winter: ..But we didn't take no for an answer.

Yang: Once in bed, we were very convincing~

Winter: It was an exciting night~

Jaune: *Blushing* Please, stop.

Winter: I love it when you blush.

Yang: You look so cute.

Weiss: I can not believe it?! This is so-!

Jaune: Weiss, I understand how you feel. I know it's unusual, but I want you to know that I love Winter and Yang with all my heart. I would never do anything to hurt them, and I promise you in the name of the Arc family, that I will never stop loving them and protecting them.

Ruby: You love them that much?

Jaune: Yes

Ruby: *Smiles* I see. I wish you guys happiness.

Yang: *Happy* So you accept our relationship?!

Ruby: Yes I do.

Winter: Weiss, what about you? Do you accept our relationship?

Weiss: I... I... *Looks at Jaune* If you hurt my sister, I'll throw you to the Grim!

Jaune: Yes ma'am!

Winter: *smiles* Thanks Weiss. You have no idea how much your approval means to me.

Weiss: *Blushing* Whatever.

Yang: Well, since this came to light. Jaune, Winter, and I have a date at a new restaurant in town. So see ya.

The trio gets up and leaves the room.

Weiss: You know Ruby, you were very calm for most of the conversation. You behaved very mature, not like me. How embarrassing. Do you want to go get something to eat?

Silence~

Weiss: Ruby? Did you hear me?

Ruby: FUCK!!!!

Weiss: Ruby?!

Ruby: Why did it take me so long to tell Jaune how I feel?! Why didn't I listen to Nora!! Now Winter and Yang are enjoying his sexy body! No, I won't let it end here! If he was able to accepted both of them. One more person would not make much difference, right?

Weiss: Ruby you're scaring me.

Ruby: Just wait Jaune, I will become your woman. *Evil laugh* HAHAHA!!!

Ruby then uses her semblance to get out of the room.

Weiss: I need to lie down.