#this is how my brain works when sleep deprived rip

[blindbatalex]

psa: the sharing of this au reflects a desire on my part to write it in the future and is not an invitation for third parties to claim and write it for themselves

We must all draw our own lines when it comes to rpf, and for me, that is writing about athletes' rl families; I am just not comfortable with it. At the same time, Brad's proposal to move into Bergy's basement to become his live-in nanny will not leave my head, so I was thinking about how Bergy could have multiple fictional children without being married in the present day and then I was like--

Well what if this was a verse in which more-often-than-not malicious fae existed and one of them found Bergy one night with a small baby in tow. The parents had wronged the fae and had been killed. They were also supposed to kill the baby. The fairy took pity on the kid though but to leave him at home alive would get it into trouble with other fae.

It could also feel something like a city-wide consensus that Bergy was a good and kind man, so it thought HE can adopt the baby instead. And fae can bend the rules of the material world somewhat, so it assured Bergy that no one would question how and why he acquired the child; they would instead react as if the baby had always been Bergy's with no questions asked re where or who the mum was. It also told Bergy that if he refused the child, it would eat the baby instead, pronto. And Bergy, while having no interest in surprise fatherhood, could not let that happen so he was ultimately like 🤷‍♂️ I guess??

But he is still a single hockey player with an insane schedule, knows nothing about child rearing, and now suddenly has a 3 month old to look after.

AND as it turns out there are a lot of young children who end up as collateral damage to foolish humans crossing the fae, and now that our guy has a solution, it keeps coming to Bergy with more and more babies over the years, each time saying take them or they will make a nice lunch.

And this is how Bergy finds himself as a father of 4, one of whom is definitely a changeling. And of course, in need of a nanny, when his suddenly quits.

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - can’t sleep

you just can’t sleep without your husband next to you (i hope my spanish was okay)

Maybe it’s your cycle, maybe its just the fact that you’ve been literally working all day for the past 3 weeks, but you’re tired as shit. The bags under your eyes are almost purple, your entire body hunches over like a zombie when you walk, you barely have time to think nor speak to anyone else besides your husband. The entire building is lowkey worried you’ll snap one day. 

Even Miguel is worried. Much how you like to do to him, Miguel’s been constantly ushering you to rest a little, borderline bribing you with nice takeout or some kisses to get you to sleep. But, to no avail. your sleep schedule is genuinely fucked. 

You’re cranky, hungry, and sleep deprived. 

At the moment, Miguel doesn’t really know where you are. Considering your current state, he thinks you’re out on a mission, or at least somewhere in the office. 

He’s already tried walking through the entire office just looking for you. He checked the cafeteria, gym, hallway, etc. muttering, “Where th’fuck are they?” But, you were nowhere to be found.

So, Miguel tries something different. He pulls up his watch, scrolling down to a button that he really only should be using for emergencies, but to Miguel, this is an emergency on its’ own. 

He presses the button, and suddenly his entire face is broadcasted to every single watch in the building. Dramatically, the emergency siren turns on, and all the spider-people are on their feet. 

“If anyone sees my wife, please report back to me asap. Tell her to come see me, I can’t find her anywhere.“

The whole office can see Miguel rub a hand over his face, visibly both annoyed and tired. Everyone starts looking back and forth, tilting heads and making sure that you didn’t just happen to be around somewhere. Once the camera turns off, though, nearly the entire building starts chuckling. 

It’s crazy how much Miguel’s face utterly lights up when he sees his watch ringing without your contact photo. Literally in a split second, he presses the button, opening up a microphone icon. 

“Miguel?“

Ugh, he just loves the sound of your voice. 

“¿Si querida?“

He hears you groan, possibly the sound of bedsheets shuffling, and it pulls at his heart. You’ve been so miserable lately, he just wants to see you back to your happy self again. 

“Come home, now.“

Just the tone of your voice alone put a worried frown on Miguel’s face. (He never likes to admit how much of an impact your emotions have on him.) An ugly, anxious swarm starts to build at the back of his head, making him impossibly nervous. 

Luckily, Miguel knows what to do. 

“Of course, hun. I’ll be there in 10.“

And he turns the watch off, sighing to himself after. He’s a little bit nervous now, fearing as though he did something to upset you, or that you had something serious to talk about when he came home. 

Every step Miguel takes to your shared home brought him closer and closer on edge, worry and theory swirling through his mind. His brain ping-ponged through every single possible reason why you’d want him to come home, especially in such a cranky matter. Maybe you were just tired? Maybe it was because he accidentally gave you a raisin bagel instead of a everything bagel?

By the time Miguel was at the door, his heart was beating erratically in his chest, hands the slightest bit shaky. Stepping inside, Miguel instantly beelined for your shared bedroom, gently opening the door. 

He sees you shuffle around in the covers, his heart secretly swooning. You’re just so cute when you’re half asleep; needy and cuddlier than usual. Already at the bedroom door, Miguel practically rips his shirt off, kicking off his pants and making his way over to where you lay. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, gingerly swiping strands of hair off your face. 

“What is it, hun?“ He coos.

You toss and turn, barely mustering a frown onto your face. Your eyes are half-lidded, tank top almost falling off your shoulder until Miguel readjusts it for you. 

“Can’t sleep without you.“ You mumble, slowly scooting yourself over and draping your arms towards him. Miguel practically swoons, cooing and leaning into your touch. How could he resist such an offer?

“Awh, baby.“ 

He tangles himself into bed with you, breathing the biggest sigh of relief. It wasn’t what he thought it was. You just wanted snuggles. Miguel takes it upon himself to spoil you extra, ghosting his touch over your back and kissing the darling skin of your temple.

Like the thousands of times he has before, Miguel tangles his legs into yours, kneading his fingers into the skin of your raised leg.  

Within a few minutes or so, Miguel feels you knock out like a light, tiny puffs of air escaping your mouth while you fist the sheets like a baby. He sighs, staring at you for a few moments while you sleep. Affectionately, he rubs his knuckles against your cheek, smooching your forehead. 

Miguel pulls a blanket over the both of you, knowing very well that by the time you’re awake, it’ll be completely on the floor. Readjusting his position, Miguel doses off to sleep, allowing himself to completely let go of all the stresses he holds. 

After all, he can’t sleep without you either. 

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

[11vr1]

Been Away ⭒ Miles Morales

Synopsis › You were tired of his secrets and lies, so you did the one thing you promised you’d never do and walked away. But Miles Morales wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

Pairing › Earth-42! Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Inspo › “Been Away” - Brent Faiyaz

Includes › ATSV SPOILERS, Angst, the tiniest bit of fluff, pet names, spanish, a microscopic amount of manipulation, toxicity, going back to your ex, stalking, harassment, mentions being mugged, mentions being stabbed, mentions the police

P.S. › I do my best work when I’m sleep deprived.

P.S.S. › Reading comments and reblogs really make my day, even if you’re telling me my commas suck. Requests are also open.

Y/n pulled down the sleeves of her crocheted sweater as she stepped out of the bodega, white plastic bag of chips and candy in hand. The sun was close to setting behind skyscrapers and plunging New York City into its usual state of terror. It was dangerous to be alone on the streets, but Y/n figured she’d be fine walking a few blocks to her friend’s place. She pushed through sidewalk traffic, passing others who were just as eager to be safe in their homes.

Her phone chimed with a text.

Unknown: Turn left.

She paused, looking up to scan her surroundings. There was nothing strange or out of place. Just stores closing up for the night and people minding their own business. Despite how normal everything seemed to be, Y/n knew better. She spared a glance at the alley to her left, immediately deciding against it and kept walking.

Another chime. She ignored it and the next. Stopping wasn’t worth possibly ending up on the eleven o’clock news. At least that’s what she told herself. The less rational part of her mind had a thought. In some ways more terrifying than being mugged.

Tucked away in her pocket, her phone rang. This time she checked. Unknown. Y/n scoffed, rejecting the call.

Unknown: One more chance.

Unknown: Take a left.

Unknown: I won’t ask again.

Her phone rang once more. With a long, begrudging sigh Y/n swiped to accept. “I thought you weren’t going to ask again,” she said, her eyes darting warily to the darkening street.

“Make a left, Y/n,” a deep distorted voice ordered from the other line. Her heart dropped. Maybe the irrational part of her brain wasn’t as off kilter as she thought. The call hung up like she didn’t need anymore convincing.

The yawning mouth of an alley stared back at her. She took a calming breath, inhaling the morning rain before stepping away from any potential witnesses. Her footsteps echoed in the eerie silence of the alley. Her skin heated in either fear or anticipation, she didn’t know. “I don’t have all night,” she spoke into the open air. “I will leave.” Y/n attempted to hide the tremble in her throat.

Her ringtone was shrill in the alley. She jumped. The bright smiling photo of her friend illuminated her face. She did not hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“Thank god! You’re still alive. Are you close?”

“Yeah, I’m almost there, Ellie,” Y/n began to exit the alley. “The bodega line was long.” She rustled her haul of snacks.

“It’s getting dark. I can send my brother to meet you. Ya know he’s always had a bit of a thing for you and now that you’re single…” Ellie trailed off. Y/n could practically hear her smile.

She rolled her eyes, laughing nervously, “You don’t have to make him come get me. I’ll be—” She was cut off by her own scream ripping from her throat. A streak of darkness and neon flashed in front of her, swiping the phone from her hand. Her grocery bag tumbled to the concrete as she stumbled over her heels. Cold metal met her back. A well defined arm snaked around her waist, held her impossibly tight.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Her friend’s voice rose over the speakers.

The smooth phone screen pressed against her cheek. “Tell her you’re okay then hang up,” the same warped voice demanded in her ear.

Y/n felt her lips move before he ended the call. Some quick lie about a monstrous rat. Blood thrummed through her skull along with her ragged breaths.

“Let me go!” Y/n wrestling out of his grip with no resistance, finally turning around. She halted. Pixelated eyes narrowed at her. What had she been expecting? Was a mask better?

Getting slashed for the money in her wallet and being left for dead by a dumpster was starting to sound more appealing than her current situation.

Mechanic panels whirred and parted open. Rich, penetrating dark eyes took in every inch of the girl in front of him, peeling back layer after layer in that calculating glare Y/n knew all too well. “Hola, mami.”

She hoped to never hear that name fall from anyone’s lips. Much less his. Y/n allowed a selfish moment to let her gaze wander. His braids were fresh, obviously not her work. Fade clean. Jay’s untied. Bronze skin annoyingly flawless. He was the same, except for the faint bags decorating his eyes. His chuckle bounced off the brick walls, catching her. It was sobering.

“You have one minute, Morales. One minute before I run screaming and call the feds on your ass,” she crossed her arms.

“Morales?” Miles raised an eyebrow. “Damn. Is that what we doin’ now?”

“Fifty.”

He circled her like the predator he was, each footstep deafening. “You look good, ma. Where you goin’ so late? It’s not safe.”

“You know where! You’ve been following me, remember? How long have you been doing that for? Just another secret, huh?” Y/n was on the verge of yelling, her initial fear replaced by pure rage. “You’re not even going to deny it.”

Miles dared a step forward. Y/n took two back. “You’re afraid of me.” Her lack of an answer was a shattering confirmation.

“I’m afraid of what you do, Miles,” she motioned to his suit, the spray painted insignia physically painful to see on his chest. The Prowler. She would have never fathomed the possibility if she hadn’t seen him in action herself. “You’re a criminal. You steal. You’ve killed people,” she choked trying to swallow back tears.

He dragged a gloved hand down his face. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right! I don’t get it. You changed and I don’t understand why.” Her waterline welled. Three months of suppressed feelings threatened to rear their ugly heads when he was near. Because of him, of course.

It was ironic how much he made her feel, even now. Ellie, other friends, Y/n’s family never fully warmed up to Miles. He was unfeeling, nonchalant, closed off. They couldn’t see how a girl like her could fall for him and stay. At least that’s the promise she made.

“So did you. You walked away. Left me. What happened to our forever, Y/n?”

“You expected nothing to change? In what world would I not react or feel some typa way?” She tensed. Another wave of anger seared through her veins. How dare he turn this on her? “Oh wait,” her laugh was humorless. “I was never supposed to find out.”

“I have to do this. The world ain’t right and I need to protect the people I care about,” he placed a hand over his armor, over his chest. “I couldn’t do shit about my dad, but you…” He stalked closer. This time she didn’t back away.

Miles grasped her hand, placing it over his heart. She couldn’t face his intensity for too long, not without air. He wore the same musky cologne she gifted him for Christmas.“Mirame,” he tilted her delicate face towards him. “Mi corazón, I can keep you safe. You gotta let me. If something happened to you I don’t know what I would do.” His chiseled features twisted, barely able to utter the words. He finally closed the space between them, resting his forehead against hers.

“One minute,” Y/n whispered. It had been more than one minute.

Without separating, he slowly slipped her phone into her back pocket, letting his fingers linger by the waist of her jeans. “Call them. I’ll stay right here and you can end this. You’ll never have to see me again. Prometo, mi corazón.”

She should have listened when Ellie told her to stay away. Undeniably gorgeous, genius level intellect, sexy accent. There was always a catch, she said. She was right. But there was one drawback not even her best friend predicted.

Y/n pulled away. Suddenly the autumn air was too chilly through her sweater. She unlocked her phone. Typed 9-1-1. She looked up through her lashes at Miles as if he would melt into the shadows and escape. She didn’t expect sheer defeat to paint his face, unhidden behind his usual mask of indifference. Her thumb froze.

Miles Morales had Y/n entranced. He’d woven himself into her being, hollowed out a space in her soul just for him. Those titanium claws were in deep and she didn’t know if she had the strength to pry them out or wanted to.

Y/n pocketed her phone. She resigned to every emotion she harbored for the boy in front of her. She chose every wrong decision. “Go, Miles.”

His grin was smug. “Should I call you?”

“Don’t push it, Morales.” He draped his arms around her shoulders, dragged her into his warmth. “I’ll unblock you. Sound good?”

Miles angled his head. His smile stretched to his eyes, showing those rarely seen dimples. “Sí, mami. Whatever you want.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Dream world

a/n It's been a hot hot minute since I've written for this man and I missed it so much. I hope you will enjoy it! 🤍

summary: Joel can't seem to let go of the shadows hunting him even in Jackson. After countless of sleepless nights and no remedy for it he finds himself needed even more of your and Ellie's love. Can a night of sleep bring him some clarity?

warnings: mention of pills, sleep deprivation, past trauma, people burning.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Joel was convinced. He had very successfully convinced himself that he was never going to find peace. Not after the outbreak. Not after Sarah. Not after almost taking his own life. Not after the thought of losing Tommy as well. All he had done in the last twenty years was lost. Lose everything he loved. Everything he had worked towards. Everything that he had built. There was nothing. Piece by piece coldly ripped away from Joel's hands.

So when you came around. All smiley and giddy. Joel couldn't help but hate you in some way. When he spotted you across the street helping out an old lady, he couldn't help but curse you silently. Stupid thing, Joel had thought back then. Stupid thing that still felt. How could anyone smile now? After everything. Jole hated himself for thinking about it, but he wanted to drop a dead body at your feet and tell you to throw it into the fire. He wondered if you would be smiling then. But all that faded when his eyes met yours, and you beamed at him. Waving before you turned back to the old lady.

Then Joel spent his days convincing himself that you would never have it in you to care for him. You would never even want to be in the same room as him. Joel had a reputation in QZ. Not only because of his strength, no. Joel was careless. Cold. Cunning. He had no emotion. No empathy. A dead man walking. That's what he was. And yet, when he stumbled upon you in the eating quarters handing out food, he couldn't help but silently beg that you would glance his way.

You were someone Joel could crush in the blink of an eye. He knew all the things he could tell you to make you cry, but for the first time in years, he didn't want to. That was the last thing he wanted to do. Joel got addicted to that smile of yours. He found himself looking for it in the crowds. Drinking his nights away when he didn't. And you two would have probably never actually come within a standing distance of one another if not for the day when you stumbled into the discharge area where they burned the infected ones, the ones who accidentally startled a tired soldier. Just this time, you were far from smiling.

Joel noticed you pushing through the sea of people. Trying to get to the trucks. His feet started moving even before his brain had made a decision. "Let me see her! I need to see her", you shouted straight at the soldier, who was gripping your hand way too firmly for Joel's liking. "Let go, you people killing fuck", you spat at the soldier, and he instantly lifted his hand to hit you, yet it never came. You had flinched away, ready to feel the sting, but no matter the breaths you took, it never came. "Who do you think you are to raise a hand against my wife?", Joel had caught the soldier's hand in midair. Shooting daggers at him. "Pick your bitch and move", Joel leaned closer to him.

Your hand instantly slipped between the two males. Joel might have been all big and scary, but he didn't have a gun, and his finger wasn't on the trigger. "I would pick the word whiskey", Joel snarled before turning to you. "I will need you to trust me", he muttered into your ear as he held onto your shoulders. Your sweet smell filled his senses, making him almost quiver. You simply nodded your head at him. "Let me get you, home love, you need to rest", Joel said much louder so the soldiers that started to gather would hear him.

If Joel would have known that you were going to make him want to be a better man. Want to finally look for the light instead of sending people to eat their shit, he would have never believed it. But with every day that you spent by his side, he felt like he could live. Not just drowning in endless darkness. You had been the first person to show him kindness, to see him for him. You didn't judge. You embraced him as he was. You were the first reason why Joel Miller wanted to stay alive.

When Ellie quite literally fell from the doorway into your life, Joel's initial reaction was refusal. He didn't need anyone else; he had you, and that was enough. This kid would be a burden. Unnecessary use of resources. And Joel was already so scared. So scared of losing you. No, he refused to let that thought even linger. Joel knew somewhere deep down that no matter his guards, Ellie would find a way to slither in. She would find a way, and then he would have so much more to lose. So much could be taken away from him.

But one look at you. The way you helped the girl up. The way she jerked away from you, pushing you away. Joel was about to interfere. Was a step away from pressing a gun to Ellie's head when you carefully lifted your hand. Showing it to Ellie as if she was a stray animal that you were trying to get familiar with your scent. Then brush your fingers through her messy hair, stopping to pick a piece of dirt from it. "Just figured you wouldn't want to walk with that in your hair", you said softly, smiling at the girl slightly. Ellie said nothing. But from the way something in her eyes glimmered, Joel knew that your magical touch had made an impact on the girl the same way that it had transformed him.

Jackson could not be real. It just couldn't. From the moment you had made your way there and the initial euphoria of reuniting with Tommy had worn off, Joel just couldn't stop thinking. How? Where was the catch? Were they going to come and take you away while he slept? Where are they also eating their people? It was too good to be true. With so much darkness still around the world, what was the likelihood that right here? Right in this little town, a seed of light grew.

No matter what he did, Joel couldn't settle. He loved seeing you and Ellie finally get to experience nice things. He loved watching Ellie look at the animals and crops that she hadn't seen before with her big eyes. He loved how the tension had vanished from both of your shoulders. How the light sounds of laughter filled the tiny house. How you sang along, teaching Ellie the melodies from the pre-pandemic era. How you two danced in the middle of the living room, both in Joel's shirts, socks on as you slipped around the floor.

Home. This was home. Or at least was supposed to be. Joel knew he should just accept it. But, no. You were home. Ellie was home. Not this place. And God doom him, Joel couldn't understand why he felt a million times more content in the middle of the woods with a gun in his hands guarding you and Ellie while you slept, cuddling together in a sleeping bag than here. There was no peace here for him, no rest. Every sound at night made him jump up. He walked back and forth from your bedroom to Ellie's. Over and over and over again. What ifs clouding his mind.

Of course, you were quick to notice. Never being a deep sleeper yourself, you felt every movement at night. It broke your heart to see the dark circles getting darker and darker under his eyes. The frown set in deeper. You tried to just hold him and let him lie practically on top of you. Let him feel your heart beating. Let him ground himself at least a little. It had helped Joel get a couple of hours of sleep for the first few days, but then back it went. You pulled a mattress in so that Ellie could sleep in the same room as you two. She gave you a puzzled look at first, growling about how the last thing she wanted was to listen to you two having sex, which had led to you pushing her playfully into the mattress. But that didn't seem to help as well. Joel just sat there between the bed and the mattress the whole night. Watching. Monitoring. Waiting.

Ellie herself wasn't worried about this, nor did she notice it until you brought it up and until she saw the worry lacing your face. Her world was made up of you and Joel. Your well-being, both physical and emotional, was vital for her. Most of your moods rubbed off on her. Any frustration and fearfulness were quick to cripple her.

"Is it really bad?", she asked you one evening, slumping onto the sofa right beside you. You just shook your head slightly. "What is it?", "The situation with Joel", Ellie said firmly. A part of you wanted to deny your worries. The last thing you wanted was to worry Ellie, even if deep down you could tell that she had picked up on the situation. "He's worried, and I just — I just don't know how to help him", you said, taking a shaky breath, rethinking it all. "I went to a doctor this morning, and she said they would look for some pills to help with it, but… What do we do till then?"

Helpless. You looked helpless. Ellie was quick to cuddle into your side. Wrapping her arms around you the same way she had seen Joel do so many times. Warmth. Comforting warmth was all she could offer you, and Ellie was hoping that it would be enough for you. Enough to at least keep you going. Your arms wrapped around the girl, bringing her closer to your body. "We will make sure he eats well. That will keep his body going", you muttered, and Ellie was quick to nod her head. "Joel loves a bit of roasted dinner. We could make that", a small smile tugged across your face. Ellie's ability to catch on to little things always made you smile. Just like Joel, most of the time her love language didn't revolve around touching or words of affirmation. She was attentive with her actions. Two scoops of sugar in your morning tea; a scarf hung on too tightly to Joel's winter coat so that he wouldn't forget it. "Yeah, we should make that tonight", you said, placing a loving kiss on Ellie's head before you two headed toward the kitchen.

When Joel stepped through the arched kitchen door, the table was already set. Ellie was pouring the sauce into the little dish, with you closely supervising her. Itching to take the hot dish from her hands. Scared that she might end up burning herself by accident. Joel wanted to smile. Wanted to feel a thread of relief, but all there was tiredness.

"Oh, good. You're back. Wash up and come sit down. I'll get a plate ready for you", you said, stepping closer to the older Miller and reaching up to place a loving kiss on his still-cold cheek. "I'm not hungry; you two eat", Joel said blandly, turning to go upstairs, but your hand quickly reached out to stop him. "It's been a long day, and we made your favorite", you tried again, turning to Ellie, who nodded her head, "And even opened a jar of cranberry sauce". But Joel only let out a frustrated sigh, running his hand over his face. "Joel, come on, you…", but you were quickly cut off by his booming voice, "Y/N, I'm not in the mood for this. Eat and just…", but Joel himself didn't finish his sentence. Waving a dismissive hand toward you two as he stepped out of the kitchen.

You bit down on your lip as the tears started to flood your eyes, wrapping your arms around yourself for comfort. You felt Ellie nuzzle into your side the moment Joel disappeared. Her own sad eyes looked at your tear-stained cheeks. You managed to give her a slight smile, brushing some of the hair away from her face. "Let's still fix him a plate. I'll bring it up to him just in case", you said, with an aching chest, as you moved towards the tray of roasted potatoes and vegetables. Hoping and praying that Joel was still going to take a bite or two.

The house was quiet for the rest of the night. Joel didn't come down. You knew he wasn't asleep because you could hear him passing upstairs. You and Ellie went through some of her homework. Getting ahead of her reading tasks since she found them the most challenging. You caught her watching you more than once. Little stolen glasses as if she was always monitoring you. Just in case your eyes glossed over again. Just in case she would need to give you another hug. So she would be right there. And you let her. After a couple of dismissals. Instead of telling her not to worry, you just let Ellie do her thing, knowing that she found comfort in it.

When you two got upstairs to get ready for the night, Joel was sitting on the bed. Head buried in his hands. So lost in his mind that he didn't even hear you and Ellie walking in. Only when you told her to get her night clothes ready did Joel lift his head. The fact that Ellie didn't even look his way as she walked past him made Joel's heart hurt. He couldn't have her, or you hate him. No, if you hated him, it would give you a reason to leave. He didn't want you to leave.

"I ate it. It was delicious", Joel said quietly, gesturing to the empty plate. Ellie went to the bathroom without a second glance, and you nodded your head. "I'll wash it up", you reached for the plate, but Joel caught your wrist, bringing it closer to his lips. "I'm sorry for snapping, it's just..", "I know. It's okay", you said quietly, but Joel shook his head. "This doesn't give me a reason to take it out on you two". Stepping closer to you, Joel wrapped his arms around your shoulders, bringing you closer to his chest.

"I just worry about you so much. We both do", you admitted, feeling your bottom lip start to quiver, "I can tell that you're struggling, but I don't know how to help you, and it kills me". A choked-out sob slipped past your lips. You felt guilty for crying. Guilty of making this about yourself in a way. "I just…", Joel rasped out himself, "So many thoughts, and I can't seem to find a way to calm down". You lifted your head from his chest, meeting his eyes. His heart was beating beneath your palm. "I… you…", Joel shook his head; speaking out his emotions was always a struggle for him. "You don't have to talk about it all tonight", you reassured him quickly. "Just know that we are here for you. Always". With a slight nod, Joel rested his forehead on yours, breathing you in.

You stood there in your lover's arms until Ellie came back. Then, with a little kiss on his chest, you slipped out to wash up yourself, leaving Joel and Ellie together. Still drying your hair, you walked back to the bedroom. Stopping in your track at the sight of the two of them giggling quietly. Ellie was in the bed beside Joel, pressed against his chest. Both of them had their hands stretched toward the ceiling. Ellie was trying to reach Joel's fingers, but her hand was way shorter than Joel's. She was desperately trying to pull at Joel's wrist, but his hand didn't budge. "You're cheating", she mumbled, "I'm not; it's not my fault you have baby T-Rex arms". Ellie let out a scoff, pinching the skin on Joel's arm in frustration. But her frown was quickly replaced by a smile when Joel grasped her wrist, making her slightly pull away from the mattress with a laugh.

"You are both children", you murmured, sitting on the other side of the bed. Joel's hand instantly moved to caress your hip. "Joel is returning to the dipper stage", Ellie teased again. "You'll be returning to the mattress soon", Joel threatened her, but the two burst out into a laugh almost immediately. You shook your head, yet the warmth that grew in your chest was hard to hide. You were happy that Ellie had found a way to reach Joel. They were so similar. They understood each other better than anyone could. Cuddling into Joel, you reached out your hand to Ellie. Joel let out a yawn, and you and Ellie locked eyes. Maybe with you both in his arms, he was finally going to sleep through the night.

Joel woke up with a jolt. A bright ray of sunshine was shining through the window, making him quickly cover his face. His head felt fuzzy. In a way lighter but then also so heavy. As if I had been drinking a night away yesterday. Yet even a hangover seemed less brutal than this. Joel was never a fan of the morning, and this only proved why. His arms suddenly felt empty. He could swear he had fallen asleep with you and Ellie in his arms last night. Stroking both of your hair. Listening to Ellie's light snores and loving the feeling of the warmth seeping into him. Joel reached out across the bed blindly, the sun still way too bright for his eyes. But all he was met with was coldness. A cold shiver ran down his spine. Was it a dream? Had something happened? Had he missed it?

Quickly sitting up, Joel looked around the room. His heart started to beat fast and fast. There was no sign of you or Ellie—nothing. There was no evidence of your being here in the same bed last night. Joel swung his legs over the edge. He needed to find you. Needed to see. "Y/N", he choked out, hands pressing onto his chest that seemed to grow tighter with every passing minute. The corridor was as empty as the room. Joel grabbed for the bathroom handle but found no one there. The ringing in his ears grew louder. "El", he called out again, "Y/N". His shaky hand gripped the railing, and the few sets of steps down seemed like a lifeline to him. "No, no, no", the fear was the only thing in his body now.

You thought you were the first to wake up, surprised to be still laying on Joel's chest. Ellie was quietly laying on her back while she played with Joel's fingers. Your stirring caught her attention as she turned to beam at you, "I think he slept through the night", she whispered. You nodded your head, putting your finger against your mouth. You were determined to make sure that Joel slept for as long as possible. Who knew if the next night he was going to find a peaceful slumber? You carefully moved his arms away from your body. Ellie quickly followed the lead. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?", she asked you when you two were out in the corridor, and the door to the bathroom was already closed. "Pancakes?", you asked, earning a fist pump from Ellie. "Fucking pancakes", she chirped, rushing down the stairs.

It was truly a magnificent morning. It's been a while since the sun has been this bright. You even cracked open some of the windows. Ellie was smiling to herself as she dried out the dishes. You two didn't talk much. It didn't feel necessary. Your head jerked to the side once the sound of footsteps came through the hallway. Yet the smile died out the moment the gasps of air followed suit. You dropped the spatula to the side as you rushed toward the sound.

Joel was leaning against the wall. His head hung low as he gripped the left side of his chest. These panic-like attacks have been happening for a while now. They scared you to death, but the doctor said that his heart was healthy, or as healthy as it could be, given his age and everything that had happened. You reached for him in an instant, making him jump back. "Joel,", you called out, and he practically leaped into your arms, pulling you into him. "Oh, thank God, thank God", he cried. You frowned slightly but let him embrace you regardless. "Are you hurt? Did something happen? Where is Ellie?", Joel's head jerked up as he scanned the room. Ellie stood a couple of feet away from him. Joel reached out his hand toward her, and she instantly moved closer. His breathing eased up. Right here in his arms. Not dead. Not taking anything away from him.

"Is everything okay?", Ellie asked quietly. You expected Joel to say nothing. Understanding his need for space and time, but to your surprise, he did speak up, "I thought I lost you. I thought I finally failed you", you looked up at him straight away. The silent tears were rolling down his cheeks. "I'm just so scared I won't be able to… keep you safe. Make sure that…" Joel said, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. "You're full of shit", Ellie stated, stepping away from him, "You've been here since day one; nothing changed". You wanted to warn her about the words she used, but then again, she was right. "Joel, you brought us here. You can rest a bit now", you reassured him, but he shook his head. "What if something happens while I sleep? What if I can't stop it?", "In our house? In a town that's surrounded by a huge fence?", Ellie cut in again.

You cupped Joel's face carefully, turning his face towards you so he would look into your eyes, "It's okay to still be scared. Fuck, I don't think it's possible to get back to any kind of normality after the last twenty years, but…", you fought the lump that started to form in your throat as you leaned closer to Joel, "But you're going to be okay, we all are going to be okay. Because we're a family. There's nothing we can't accomplish together".

And then it all came crashing down. With a loud sob, Joel fell to his knees, and you sank alongside him. Arms, not letting go of him even for a moment. Ellie stepped beside him, her head resting on his back as she too fought her tears. You let him cry. You may have burst into a silent sob somewhere along the way yourself. Everyone had the scars they carried. Some were deeper than others. Struggling to heal. Struggling to see the light. It was easy to give up. Fighting was a whole other story. But once you found people who made you want to live, who you had to live for, giving up wasn't an option, and that was so scary.

"I love you both", Joel whispered after some time. You brushed his last tears away, smiling at him. "Well, I also love you, but you better start talking about your emotions, or I'll eat your pancakes", Ellie warned him, nuzzling into his chest. Joel let out a chuckle, "You're starting to sound like Y/N". You gasped slightly, shifting closer to them both, "You'll lose your space in the bed too, not just pancakes".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

TLOU taglist: @theslytherinwriter @daddysfavoritesexkitten @randomstory56 @woofgocows @ohthemisssery

[whumpshaped]

drained for your bingo?

masterlist bingo card

tw vampire whumper, noncon biting (like my guy is unconscious, its fucken vampire somno), home invasion, invasion of privacy, violating bodily autonomy big time, dehumanisation

In a moment of gross selfishness, Beck decided to crawl under the covers before Helle arrived. He didn't feel like waiting any longer. It was already late, he had work tomorrow, and he was exhausted. All he wanted was some rest.

He closed his eyes and let out a pleased little sigh, almost unable to believe that he was alone in the apartment. It was so peaceful. The buzzing of electronics and the noise of the street below began to fade rapidly, and he soon drifted off into a relaxing sleep.

His eyes fluttered open a single moment before Helle bit down. He let out a startled yelp and tried to push them off, but he couldn't even do as much in his half-asleep daze as he usually could — which already wasn't a lot.

They didn't even wake him before feeding. They just waltzed in and helped themself to a generous serving of his blood without him even being conscious. Maybe this was his fault for having fallen asleep before they arrived, but holy shit, this was a new level of terrifying.

He let them have their fill while he stared at the ceiling, only illuminated by the faint moonlight from the living room. He couldn't help it when he began to cry softly. He had no idea why he thought Helle would be considerate enough to let him rest. It was stupid. He was stupid. He should've known better, he should've known that sleeping away his problems wouldn't work if the problem was nocturnal.

Helle licked the wounds closed, then rolled over to the other side of the bed like a cat that got the cream. The low hum of contentment they let out was almost a purr, and he couldn't understand, he couldn't imagine being this comfortable with violating someone's living space and body.

"You went to sleep early," they whispered.

"Y-yeah." He was still shaking from the experience, and his brain was screaming at him to go and clean out the fresh wounds. He couldn't. He'd thought he was drained when he got home from work, but... Helle always found a way to make him feel just a lick more empty. "Could you... could you wake me next time?"

"Mmm, but I liked you like that. Calm, peaceful... unaware."

"Please."

His desperate plea hung in the air between them, and the knowledge that he was the only one so distressed by the situation weighed heavy on his heart. It made sense, of course. Helle wasn't the one whose autonomy was being ripped away. But he hoped they would at least understand. Sympathise?

"Is it scary?" they asked quietly, and Beck realised it wasn't even that they didn't care; they loved making him uncomfortable.

"Yeah... It's... it's very scary."

"Would you stay up for me every night, just so this could never happen to you again?"

Beck swallowed. "I... I don't want t-to..."

"Would you? If I began visiting well after midnight, would you deprive yourself of precious sleep to put your mind at ease? I wonder how many nights it would take until you fell asleep anyway. I wonder if you would be exhausted enough not to wake while I drank from you."

He choked out a sob, curling up into a little ball of terror and misery. "P-please... I just– I just want to be awake for it, is– is that too much to ask for..? I d-don't want to wake up to this... I don't want t-to wake up with– with new wounds... I just... I just want to be awake..."

Helle let him cry, and he felt like they enjoyed the sound of it. They must've, they had no other reason to mock and taunt him to the point of tears. Still, he wished they would at least answer him, and assure him that this was a one-off.

No such assurances were given. Beck couldn't sleep for more than five consecutive minutes for the rest of the night.

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

Ghostober - Day 12 [River]

"My toaster was definitely talking to me this morning" - 1k

CW: River gets injured - burns (no blood or graphic description)

⊹ Ghostober Masterlist ⊹

River had been a chronic patient in the infirmary under Omega’s care. Always doing something that ended him back laying in a bed in the medical wing. Between him and his brother Lake, River was somehow always the one ending up on the wrong side of a prank, or pulling the short end of the stick.

This week had been no different.

It had started out harmless enough. Hiding all of Terzo’s left socks, switching out Alpha’s shampoo with lube, turning a whole row of books to have the spines facing inward in the library - top to bottom I might add, it took two and a half hours for the Sisters to turn everything back the right way.

Yet that was all elementary. The terror twins were simply not satisfied.

They had upped the stakes as the week went on. Putting laxatives in the Tuesday chilli, they hid a smoke generator in Secondo’s office, activating it when he was alone and causing everyone to think there's a fire. The whole Abbey had to evacuate while the two ghouls snickered wickedly in the corner. They had simultaneously replaced Sister’s masterkey with a similar-looking, non-functional one, causing her to be locked out of everywhere she needed to go - including the security office to shut off the fire alarm.

River had put itching powder in Dewdrop's laundry detergent, causing the little fire ghoul to be miserable all day until he finally snapped. He had marched all the way to River’s room, leaving a trail of black smoke in his wake as his little legs quickly ate up the distance.

Dew had found River sitting casually on the couch in the den. His carefree expression and body language made the former water ghoul’s skin boil.

“Can’t you prank somebody else, River? I’ve got enough shit going on.” Dew snarled, closing the distance between the two of them.

River couldn’t help but look at the little ghoul with his face scrunched in confusion before remembering what he had done a few days prior. All Dew got in reply was a little snicker.

“It’s not funny! I feel like my skin is crawling!” He had ripped his shirt off and River could see that he might have put a little too much. Dew was covered in red scratches all over, clearly trying to use his claws as carefully as he could to relieve some of the itch.

River felt a little bad, but Dew had done pranks of this calibre to him before he was a fire ghoul.

“Okay, maybe I put a little too much? But it’s kind of funny.” River chuckled, which only angered Dew more as he moved to stand right in front of the larger water ghoul.

“No. More.” Dew hissed through gritted teeth, his fingers working tirelessly to relieve the discomfort all over his arms and chest.

River stood, towering over Dew as he took in the sight of his red, raw skin.

“I’m sorry, no more…. Maybe just the harmless ones?” River smirked.

That was the final straw. Between the insatiable itching, the lack of sleep that night due to the itching, and now River’s incessant taunting. He was about to explode.

And he did.

Dewdrop’s fire element was unstable on a good day, but today it was well fed on his sleep deprived brain and untapped rage as the little ghoul had burst into flames, sending River flying back over the couch.

And that’s how he ended up in the infirmary this week.

He had bandages covering his many burns and blisters as he laid back in the bed Omega had almost permanently labelled with his name.

“You’re lucky water ghouls have a protective mucus in your skin to protect you from this kind of stuff. Otherwise this would’ve been a lot worse.” Omega had said, along with something about consequences of actions? He couldn’t remember. Or more accurately, he didn’t want to hear it.

Lake had come in to see his brother every day. Letting him in on all the gossip and things. Those two were absolutely insufferable around the Abbey, and Secondo had threatened to send them back to the Pit on numerous occasions. Yet somehow they were still here.

“Hey Riv? Can I tell you something scary?” Lake’s voice was low with a sinister tone.

“Oh I’m all ears– ah. All ear.” River joked, patting his one ear that was bandaged against his head.

“Okay, you know how we’ve been debating whether the den is haunted?” River nodded, leaning in to listen more intently. “Well, I was laying in my nest last night and I heard voices.”

River’s eyes went wide. “Really? What did they say?”

“I don’t know but the TV turned off without me touching it. There were knocks coming from your room. You haven’t heard anything like that have you?” Lake asked as he tried not to burst out laughing as he saw River shake in fear. He really shouldn’t be taking advantage of his brother while he was high as a kite on pain meds, but it was just too easy.

River pulled the covers up to his face and hid behind them. “You don’t think they’re following me, are you?”

Lake tilted his head, genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”

“If you were hearing voices…. Then my toaster was definitely talking to me this morning.”

Lake couldn’t help it, he burst out with laughter before being grabbed by the scruff of his neck and forcibly removed from the infirmary by a rather large, rather annoyed Omega.

“Can’t even let your brother recover without causing a ruckus?” The quint stood with his arms crossed, the scariest look on his face. It was much like the look you’d get from a very disappointed mother as he effectively took up the space within the doorway, blocking Lake’s every attempt to get back inside.

“O-Omeg…ahaha! Please!” Lake wheezed, clutching his side as he got a stitch from laughing so hard. “Come on! His face was priceless!”

With two large hands on the water ghoul’s shoulders, Omega effortlessly turned him around and gave Lake a loving boot in the ass out of his infirmary.

“Scram, you leech!”

A/N: Not proofread, sorry it's so short.

[trans-beast]

Computer biology

Computers and similar pieces of modern tech have tons of wires, circuits and cables among other things that all need to fit together just right in order to function. They are powered by electricity and have innards that can be very fragile if not handled properly.

There is an entire network of delicate innards that transmit electrical pulses from one spot to another, much like neurons within a human brain. If something malfunctions, the cause could be all kinds of things, be it damage or alterations to the inner workings of their mechanical nervous system, or internal errors within the ephemeral digital mind’s eye that is the internet, programs and the virtual plane upon the monitor as a whole. A bit like how a brain can be damaged from direct physical damage or tampering, or from trauma that comes from events that don’t leave bruises.

If not properly cared for, computers can get “injured” or “sick”. They can catch a virus if you don’t take the proper precautions when rooting through parts of the internet that are “unclean” or “contaminated”. Like rooting through garbage and choosing not to sanitize anything.

If a computer works too hard, it can overheat and shut sown. People also have a habit of doing that when they get heatstroke. If made to stay turned on for too long, the computer may begin to slow down. Sleep mode doesn’t fix the problem, just puts it off til later, like how one might nod off into microsleep after prolonged periods of sleep deprivation.

Your organs don’t work so well if the veins and arteries don’t plug into ‘em. Moving the position of some of your arteries just a few centimeters to the left may be catastrophic, or it could be negligible. Some wires in your devices might cause very little change if they get a bit loose, but depending on which wire and where, it could also render a device more sensitive or in need of repair.

Therefore, technology is a subcategory of domesticated organism, and it’s absolutely normal and essential I light incense for the 2DS I lost as a little kid.

RIP to my pokeball pouch that I kept my 2DS and many DS games in, you were well-loved before you were tragically lost at the airport when I was a kid 😔

[savventeen]

OOH IF YOU'RE STILL TAKING ASKS FOR THE TROPE THING can i get vernon and like you two are assigned partners on an art project but he's awful at art LMFAO okay thank love you xx

JJ BELOVED HI HELLO I AM FINALLY GETTING AROUND TO THIS <333333

okay first of all i LOVE this idea skfjllkdfl this would definitely be a fun, comedic, romcom nonsense fic hehehe

i'm picturing this being set in like, a fucking calculus class and this project is the professor's way of trying to "bring more creativity to the sciences" or whatever. and vernon's just like. 'dude. how on earth is making a collage...sculpture...thing... supposed to help me learn calculus???' no one in the class really gets it either, since they can just, you know, do the math without having to create anything. but whatever, a little arts n crafts never hurt anyone [spoiler alert: it maybe hurts someone *cough*vernon*cough* a little at some point]

anyway, vernon ends up being partnered up with reader who, thank god, actually has an idea for what they can do for their project and also talks like someone who knows about art. in fact, they seem really into art and like, super pumped for this project. which is great! except, they're also really cute? and like, they're maybe kinda sorta the person he's been lowkey crushing on from afar since last semester???

and because having a crush sometimes makes you say/do stupid things, he tells reader that he can totally help with the art portion, easy peasy. [narrator voice: it was not, in fact, easy peasy] queue montage of the week leading up to when they're supposed to meet up again: - vernon desperately watching all kinds of youtube videos trying to learn how to Art™️ - him walking into a Michael's and just being so lost and overwhelmed that he just. has a bit of an existential crisis in the fabric section - he somehow manages to accidently cut himself with a pair of scissors while trying to do some kind of papercraft thing and has to go to the nurse's office. - his roommate (let's make it chan for funsies) is convinced that he's having some kind of mental breakdown "hyung, i don't know what to do, he's just staring at a pile of children's playdough like it holds the secrets of the universe. or maybe like it killed his pet goldfish. i don't know, he's just being weird."

all of this leads up to when reader and vernon meet up again to present their 'prototypes' of the art part of the project so they can decide which they like better and then start actually working on it. reader is already at the cafe they agreed to meet at, and vernon (sleep deprived and already overly caffeinated) walks up to where reader is sitting, drops his sad attempt at art on the table, and blurts "i lied about being good at art because you're really cute and it broke my brain a little bit and i'm actually really, really bad at it. i'm so sorry." and then he fucking WALKS AWAY because he's a LOSER and you were extra cute today and his brain is still a bit broken and reader ends up having to chase him down the street, his shitty attempt at art clutched in one hand, to tell him that it's fine, they can handle the art part as long as he does his fair share of the math

"and like. maybe i could, teach you? sometime? if you want to learn, that is. and i'm not the best artist, but i've taught some summer camp classes before, and—" / "wait, you'd really wanna do that? after seeing how bad at it i am?" / "well... it means i'd get to spend some extra time with you outside of school, so... yeah"

vernon of course readily agrees, and they start going on little art dates together (and yes, they're Date dates bc vernon finally gets his shit together and asks them out) and they get a solid B- on the project bc while reader is great at art, turns out neither of them are the best at math rip </3

[send me a person and a trope/au and i'll tell you what kind of plot i'd write for them]

[peachyrayne]

Safe (Phayu/Rain Fanfic)

Title: Safe

Summary: "Rain," Phayu demands, switching to that tone he uses when they scene, the hard, demanding one that makes Rain ache inside, and Rain shudders, the tears forcing themselves past Rain's eyes. "Talk to me, baby. Be a good boy and tell Daddy what's wrong,” he says sternly.

Rain whimpers. It’s that tone, the good boy, the reassurance that Phayu wants Rain to tell him that breaks Rain’s resolve. How can he not, when Phayu talks to him like this? How can he not, when Phayu is being Daddy right now. The comfort overwhelms the desire to stay quiet, and Rain gives in.

"Red," he gasps, a sob wrenching past his throat. His body feels like it's on fire as he squirms under Phayu, finally giving in to the need to get away.

Tags: Safe Word Use; non-sexual safeword use; not a scene but technically a scene; its okay to safeword anytime; Hurt/Comfort; Sensory Deprivation; Sensory Overload; rain is not okay but phayu knows how to take care of him; Trust; trust building

(Ao3 Link)

Notes: I've had this fic idea in my head for a while. I could just imagine Phayu would be very good at after care and knowing what to do when his sub safe words, so I wrote it <3

I cannot express all of my love and gratitude to everyone who helped me with this. Thank you to the discord for all of their support, to Khashana for beta'ing the original draft and helping to kick start my brain into solving the ending problem, and of course to imnotinclinedtomaturity for helping beta the final draft, and honestly kicking my ass. You always make me so much better.

--

It's been a bad day.

Rain's brain has been on overdrive since he went to bed last night. He hadn't slept well, waking up more times than he could count and never really managing to fall into deep sleep. His thoughts had been chaotic even in his dreams, and he'd woken up feeling like he hadn't slept at all.

He hadn't been able to focus in class all day either, instead tapping his pen against his desk erratically every few minutes until he caught himself and made himself stop, only to start up again moments later. Sky kept sending him irritated looks, but his touch was sympathetic the few times he reached out in an attempt to ground Rain.

By mid-afternoon, Rain's brain was a mix of muddled exhaustion and wired energy, making him even more restless. He could hear everything, and it grated against his nerves. His skin felt tight, unreal and unmanageable, until Rain wanted to rip it off of himself. He knows that by the time he gets home, he won’t have it in him to work on any of his assignments, but that he also won’t be able to rest with the weight of due dates hanging over his head.

He's nearly in tears by the time he climbs into his car at the end of the day, and can't remember the drive to Phayu's house, but the next thing he's aware of, he’s face down on their bed with Phayu sitting down next to him, a soothing hand rubbing circles into the small of his back.

"What's wrong, good boy?" Phayu murmurs softly, voice low.

Normally, Phayu's voice works as a soothing balm to Rain's frantic mind, but today the quiet timber just adds to the overwhelming noise in his head.

Rain whines in response, unable to manage words.

Humming, Phayu shifts on the bed, swinging a leg over Rain's back until he's straddling him, and gets to work massaging Rain's shoulders without a word. Rain wants so badly to melt into the touch, but he can't, and he doesn't know how to tell Phayu that his touch — any touch — hurts today. So instead, he keeps his mouth shut.

Phayu is doing him a favor, after all, something sweet that he doesn't often do outside of a scene, and even then, usually only after he's worked Rain hard. Rain should be appreciating the effort, whether it's helping or not, rather than complaining and asking Phayu to stop.

"You're so tense," Phayu murmurs, his voice still low, and digs the palms of his hands into Rain's shoulders harder, in a way that on a different day would probably melt the tension right out of Rain’s muscles. Rain lets out a groan, but it isn't from pleasure, and he's glad that he's laying face down when he grimaces into the pillow.

"My darling must have had a hard day," Phayu continues, leaning in close and whispering the words into Rain's ear. Rain shivers, and tenses even more, even as he tries to will his body to go pliant. "Let Phi take care of you now," he says, and presses a kiss to the sensitive spot behind Rain's ear. The spot normally sends sparks down his spine, but today it does nothing but make Rain feel on fire, and not in a good way.

Phayu's hands shift lower, still pressing hard into sore muscle, until he reaches the hem of Rain's shirt and pushes it up. His hands are cold to the touch on Rain's bare skin, clammy and not at all relaxing. Rain grits his teeth, willing himself to breathe through the sensation.

"Phi…" he mumbles, biting his lip the moment the word passes his lips. He can feel his safe word pressing against the back of his teeth, aching to get out, but he doesn't want to say it. He's never said it before, and besides, they aren't even sceneing. Safe words have no business in everyday life, after all. Rain doesn't know a lot about BDSM yet, but he knows that much at least.

He should ask Phayu to stop. He knows he should, but he doesn't want to disappoint him, especially not when Phayu is being sweet on him. Besides, it’s not that Rain doesn’t want Phayu’s sweetness, it just hurts right now, when Rain can’t so much as handle the lightest of touches. So Rain lays under Phayu and tries to take it.

The massage continues for a few moments more before Phayu shifts up and reaches for the bedside drawer where they keep some of their toys. Rain flinches at the sound of the drawer opening, something that Phayu doesn't miss.

"Rain?" Phayu asks, obviously concerned, but Rain just shakes his head and slowly unclenches his muscles. Phayu places his palm softly against Rain's side and waits a long moment. "Rain," he repeats again, more firmly this time. "Use your words. What's wrong?" he asks, his tone one of admonishment and command.

Rain whimpers. "Nothing," he croaks out, willing himself to sound calm, but even he can hear that his voice is shaking. He feels tears pricking at the back of his eyes, feels a lump forming in his throat, and holds his breath.

"Rain," Phayu demands, switching to that tone he uses when they scene, the hard, demanding one that makes Rain ache inside, and Rain shudders, the tears forcing themselves past Rain's eyes. "Talk to me, baby. Be a good boy and tell Daddy what's wrong,” he says sternly.

Rain whimpers. It’s that tone, the good boy, the reassurance that Phayu wants Rain to tell him that breaks Rain’s resolve. How can he not, when Phayu talks to him like this? How can he not, when Phayu is being Daddy right now. The comfort overwhelms the desire to stay quiet, and Rain gives in.

"Red," he gasps, a sob wrenching past his throat. His body feels like it's on fire as he squirms under Phayu, finally giving in to the need to get away.

Instantly, Phayu swings himself off of Rain, and climbs off of the bed. Rain feels blessed relief as Phayu's weight disappears, which only makes him cry harder because he's never wanted to be away from Phayu before. Phayu grounds him in his worst moments, but not today. Today, Rain feels like he's going to vibrate out of his skin if anyone touches him again.

Rain curls into himself the moment he's free, rolling onto his side and tucking his knees up into his chest until he’s as small as he can make himself. He wants to disappear as the sobs choke his throat, wants to erase this entire day, wants to go back in time and stop himself from spitting out “red”. he doesn’t want to disappoint Phayu. He wants to want Phayu on top of him, but he can’t. He just can’t, and it’s the worst feeling in the world.

Rain expects Phayu to admonish him, maybe tell him off for using his safeword outside of a scene, but that’s not what happens. Instead, Phayu says “Good boy, using your words for me.” He sounds strong and sure of himself, in control the way that Rain is not right now, and for the first time all day, Rain starts to feel soothed.

He whines at the praise, a mix of happy and confused, but his tears flow faster and he hiccups out a breath rather than respond. The inability to speak sparks more anxiety inside of Rain, and he squirms on the bed, terrified that Phayu will get mad at him after all.

He doesn’t.

“Can you be a little more specific for me, darling? Can you tell me what’s hurting the most?” Phayu asks instead, calm and most importantly — not touching Rain. Somehow, Phayu seems to instinctively know that touching Rain was the trigger, the way that Phayu always seems to know what's going on inside of Rain’s head, even before Rain knows it himself.

But when Rain tries to open his mouth to tell Phayu what hurts… he can’t.

He shakes his head.

“Okay,” Phayu acknowledges, and it doesn’t sound like a reprimand. He doesn’t press for more either, which Rain is grateful for, and for a long moment, Phayu doesn’t say anything else. Rain’s breathing is loud in his own ears, quiet sobs still escaping his lips as he tries to get himself back under control, but it feels impossible. Rain’s entire body is lit up in all the wrong ways, and despite Phayu’s calmness, there’s still fear sitting in the pit of Rain’s stomach that he’s done something wrong.

Gentle pressure on his knee startles Rain enough that he gasps, and he flings himself away from the touch as if he’d been burned. Over the sound of his own breathing, Rain manages to make out Phayu shushing him softly. “I know baby. You’re overwhelmed right now, aren’t you,” he says, and it isn’t a question. “I’m going to have to touch you a little bit to help you though, so I need you to trust me, okay, baby?” he says, and this time it is a question.

Shuddering at the thought of being touched, Rain almost shakes his head no, but then Phayu’s words catch up with him — trust and help and baby?. Rain feels relief swarm through him at the sheer knowledge of being known. Of being understood, even without words. And he does trust Phayu, more than he trusts anyone else in the world, even himself, so he nods his head instead.

Phayu hums. “Good boy,” he says sweetly. “I know that was hard, and I am so, so proud of you. I’m going to roll you over onto your back now, and then we’re going to settle down and I’m going to make you feel better.” The total confidence in Phayu’s voice works like a balm, and he finally starts to settle. He feels his body relaxing automatically, so attuned to Phayu and that specific tone of his that he just can’t resist.

Phayu makes a sound of satisfaction at the way Rain’s body has surrendered, and touches Rain’s knee again, this time more firmly and with purpose. Phayu grips Rain’s knee, and leads his body into a prone position on Rain’s back with the least amount of touch possible, and Rain is so incredibly grateful for it. His body follows Phayu’s direction without hesitation, and Rain feels his breathing start to slow down, just from that simple action.

His eyes are squeezed shut, and have been since he started crying, so it comes as a surprise when something heavy settles over Rain’s body. He inhales sharply on an aborted hiccup, and opens his eyes. Phayu is hovering over him, tucking a blanket in around Rain’s body with a look of absolute concentration on his face, and Rain realizes belatedly that it’s their weighted blanket. Instantly, he feels safer, his body relaxing further into the bed as the weight and warmth of the blanket seeps into his bones. While every other touch today has felt like nails against his skin, this feels like safety, and Rain feels soothed.

“Phi…” he mumbles, his voice coming out all stuffed up as he lets his eyes drift back shut. He wants to cry with how good this feels, and it’s easy to do when he hasn’t stopped crying from earlier, so he just lets himself go. The sobs are thankfully quieter now; less filled with fear, moreso of relief. It feels good to let go of the tension he’s been holding all day.

Rain doesn’t know why he hadn’t thought of the weighted blanket, but that’s what he has Phayu for, and he’s so eternally grateful as the blanket seems to settle right into his bones.

“Lift your head,” Phayu commands after another moment, and Rain does so without hesitation. Something soft settles against Rain’s eyes, the familiar presence of a blindfold, and Phayu ties it firmly against the back of Rain’s head. Rain lets his head drop uselessly the moment Phayu is done, and realizes that the white noise in the back of his head has started to recede. He lets out a shuddery breath, his eyes relaxing, and calms.

“There we go,” Phayu murmurs in satisfaction. That tone of voice is usually followed by the gentle sweep of Phayu’s hand against Rain’s cheek, or along his bottom lip, but Phayu doesn’t touch him this time, and Rain is so, so grateful.

“Last thing,” Phayu says after a moment, his voice low, so so low, and then the soft clasp of noise-canceling headphones presses against Rain’s ear.

The world goes silent, and Rain lets out a long, shuddery sigh. His body goes lax as his mind goes quiet, and he just drifts. For a long, long time, Rain just drifts. He can feel that he’s crying, tears leaking down his face from relief, but eventually that stops as well, and Rain is left with nothing but the peace of being calmed.

Rain should have known Phayu would know exactly what to do to help settle him. They’ve done similar things before with the headphones, something Phayu experimented with the first time Rain got overwhelmed with him – albeit in a different way. The blindfold usually works to amplify Rain’s feelings, but somehow Phayu knew that tonight it was going to help to reduce the sensations running rampant through Rain’s body. And the weighted blanket was so, so perfect.

Rain feels so good laying there, senses completely cut off, that he doesn’t want to leave the safety of this wonderful bubble. Rain doesn’t know how long he sits in total silence — the room dark around his eyes, and his body weighed down — before he finally starts to feel more like himself, but when he does, he finds it in himself to stretch lazily under the blanket.

He’s tucked in securely enough that Rain knows it will be difficult to unwind himself in the state he’s in, so he whines softly instead. He knows, deep in his bones, that Phayu is nearby. He wouldn’t leave Rain in a state like this on his own.

His trust is proven correct when a firm touch lands on his knee, and squeezes in what is obviously a question.

“Green,” Rain whispers on instinct, turning his head in the direction he thinks Phayu is and smiling lazily. He can’t hear it, but he imagines Phayu is chuckling indulgently at him, and it makes Rain squirm happily.

There’s another squeeze on his knee, and then the weight of the blanket starts to shift off of Rain’s body. He misses it in a distant part of his brain, but he’s also pleased to be able to move freely again when the blanket fully peels away from him, so he rolls over in search of the warmth of Phayu’s body. He misses Phayu’s touch, now that he’s calm, and he craves it deep within his soul.

Phayu’s hands find Rain’s shoulder, and he helps to urge Rain into more of a sitting position, re-shuffling them until he can press himself to Rain’s body, like he knows exactly what Rian had been looking for. Rain is confident that he did.

The blindfold comes off next, slowly but surely, until Rain is blinking into the dim lighting of the bedroom. It takes a long moment for his eyes to adjust to being able to see again, but when they do, the first thing Rain sees is Phayu leaning over him, eyes dark and warm, lips curved in a pleased smile.

Warmth courses through Rain’s body. He can’t quite grasp why he was worried earlier, but a hidden nugget of anxiety has been soothed by the look on Phayu’s face. He chooses not to fixate on it, instead reaching up to curl his fingers into Phayu’s shirt, just to anchor himself. Phayu’s mouth opens with an unheard laugh.

Phayu’s hands find the headphones next, but he doesn’t remove them immediately the way he had the blindfold. Instead, he taps on them lightly, another question. Rain nods, ready to be back in the real world, ready to curl up with his Phayu, and drift that way instead.

He wants to be touched, so unlike earlier, wants the reassurances that Phayu is with him and that – that –

Oh god. Rain safeworded earlier. He’d safeworded.

Anxiety slams full force into him, and he feels his eyes go wide as Phayu removes the headphones. Rain can feel his heart starting to beat faster, and some of that sense of calmness beginning to leave him at the idea of Phayu being mad, of being disappointed. He squeezes his fingers a little together in Phayu’s shirt, and stares up at him cautiously, the noise of the normal world just beginning to filter back into his head.

But Phayu just looks calm, not upset, or disappointed, as he stares back at Rain. Rain feels himself settle a little bit at that.

Phayu isn’t one to hide how he’s feeling. Phayu is always upfront with Rain. Phayu will tell him if something is wrong, he knows it.

“Hey, my good boy,” Phayu murmurs, leaning in close to nuzzle at Rain’s nose. Rain preens under the praise, and lets out a soft sigh. Yes, he’s still a good boy. Phayu’s good boy. He always wants to be Phayu’s good boy.

“I’m so proud of you today, darling. You did so well,” Phayu murmurs, breath hot against Rain’s face. Rain wiggles in pleasure, pleased that he did good. Yes, he’d safeworded today, outside of a scene no less, but Phayu doesn’t seem mad at him. Rain feels like the luckiest boy in the world.

It feels good to have Phayu near again, feels good to not want to rip his skin from his body. It feels good to know that Phayu isn’t going to yell at him, that Rain didn’t completely fuck up. It feels so good that Rain pulls on Phayu’s shirt, welcoming it when Phayu seems to pick up on what Rain is looking for and drapes his entire body over Rain’s. The sensation is similar to the blanket, but so much better now because it’s Phayu.

Phayu wraps his arms around Rain, and shifts them around until they’re settled more comfortably, with Rain still pressed underneath Phayu’s body but their limbs more settled against each other. The movement forces Rain to let go of Phayu’s shirt, but it’s okay now because Phayu is surrounding him completely, his scent in Rain’s nose, and his touch grounding.

“Better?” Phayu asks him, indulgent. Rain nods against his shoulder. He feels safe and secure in Phayu’s arms. “Good,” Phayu murmurs close to Rain’s ear, and leaves a kiss there. It lights Rain up on the inside, and he snuggles in closer to Phayu, wishing he’d do it again.

Phayu doesn’t kiss him again, but he does rub a soothing hand up and down Rain’s arm, and he does breathe quietly into the crook of Rain’s neck, a reassuring presence that reminds him Phayu isn’t going anywhere.

They sit in silence for a long time. Rain doesn’t need the silence anymore, but he’s basking in Phayu’s affection and doesn’t feel like he needs to say anything. His mouth feels a little bit cottony still from earlier anyway, so words wouldn’t come easily even if he tried.

Eventually, however, Phayu shifts slightly, moving so that he can look more clearly at Rain’s face, and Rain tenses at his expression. He looks serious now, somber almost, and Rain feels terror crash into him.

Is this it? Is this the moment that Phayu tells Rain that he screwed up, that he used his safe word wrong? Or that Phayu really is disappointed in him, and doesn’t understand why Rain would safeword at all?

“Shh, sweet boy,” Phayu murmurs, immediately recognizing the way Rain has tensed up, and reaching out to stroke Rain’s cheek. “You’re okay,” he says firmly. “But I’d like to talk about today.” Rain knows without Phayu even having to say it that it’s important they do, knows that if they don’t talk about it now, Rain won’t be able to think of anything else until they do, so Rain sags against Phayu’s body and nods his head, willing himself not to start crying again.

Phayu sits up, pulling Rain along with him before settling Rain into his lap so that they’re facing each other. Ran can’t quite manage to make himself look Phayu in the eye, though, so he stares at his hands instead, where he clasped them on Phayu’s shoulder when he moved them.

Phayu makes a noise of displeasure. “Look at me, baby boy,” he murmurs, but his voice carries command, so Rain does. Phayu’s eyes are soft as he asks “Are you afraid?”

Slowly, Rain nods his head.

“What are you afraid of?” Phayu asks patiently, but there’s something in his eyes that tells Rain he already knows. Rain wants to call him out on playing games, wants to pout and whine and beg Phayu not to make him say, but he knows from experience that that won’t work, so instead he swallows thickly and tries to make his voice work.

“I safeworded,” Rain eventually whispers.

Phayu nods. “You did,” he agrees patiently.

Rain swallows again. He should have known Phayu wasn’t going to let him off that easily. His fingers tighten against Phayu’s shoulders as he tries to force himself to say more. “But we weren’t scening,” he adds slowly, bottom lip starting to quiver. “And – and – you were doing something nice for me,” he manages to get out around the lump forming in his throat. His eyes sting with unshed tears, and he feels horrible, saying the words out loud.

Phayu seems to understand this, because he rests one of his hands on Rain’s waist, and reaches up to cup Rain’s face. His expression is gentle as he asks, “But why are you afraid, my darling boy?”

A sob wrenches its way past Rain’s throat at the term of endearment, and he lets out a pitiful little moan as he tries to get himself under control. “P’Phayu,” he cries, “I don’t want to disah-disapoint you!” he gasps, and tries to hide his face, but Phayu’s grip on him doesn’t allow for it, and Rain only cries harder. “Please don’t be disappointed,” he gasps around another little sob. “Please don’t be disappointed in Rain!”

Rain thought he’d run out of tears, but as he grips at Phayu’s shirt, he feels the sobs keep rising up in his throat.

Phayu’s touch on his face tightens as his thumb shifts to wipe away Rain’s tears. Phayu’s other hand rubs soothing circles into Rain’s hip as he sighs and leans in close. His forehead finds Rain’s, and he rubs them together gently. “Phi isn’t disappointed,” he murmurs very seriously. “Phi could never be disappointed in Rain for using his safeword,” he continues firmly, and tilts Rain’s head just enough for their eyes to meet.

There’s no mistaking the sincerity in his gaze. It makes Rain’s chest tremble with trust, but the fear sits heavy there anyway, and Rain doesn’t know how to make it go away. His bottom lip trembles as he gasps out another little cry.

“But – but –” Rain gasps. “We weren’t even doing anything,” Rain manages to get out, hiccuping at the end.

“Rain,” Phayu hushes him, stroking his cheek and wiping more tears away with his thumb. “I need you to listen to me now, okay?” he urges Rain. Rain does his best to nod, vision going blurry from tears.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Phayu explains soothingly. Rain starts to cry harder still, so Phayu releases Rain’s hip to instead cup both cheeks in his hands and wipe away his tears. “You were so good, Rain, telling me that you weren’t okay. You did everything exactly right,” he reiterates. For the briefest of moments, Phayu pulls back to press a kiss to Rain’s forehead, and then he’s back, foreheads pressed together, his eyes warm and sincere.

“Phi,” Rain whines. “Shh,” Phayu hushes him instantly. “All you have to do is listen. Can you do that for me, sweet boy?” Phayu asks. Still feeling completely unmoored, and more than a little bit confused, all Rain can do is nod.

“I think maybe I made a few assumptions about your understanding of safe words, and I shouldn’t have,” Phayu admits apologetically. “The most important thing I can ever teach you about safe words is that they’re made to be used.”

There is no question in Phayu’s tone, no hesitation or uncertainty that Rain can latch onto. He stares at Phayu with wide, confused eyes as he tries to understand what that means.

Rain doesn’t understand. He thought safe words were only meant for the most extreme of circumstances – for when Rain couldn’t take it anymore, and he needed Phayu to stop. He’d thought safe words were for bad doms who didn’t know what they were doing, not for doms like Phayu.

Phayu smiles at him, eyes soft, and presses one thumb to Rain’s bottom lip, smoothing over it gently. Rain shivers at the touch, and the sobs fighting to get out finally start to calm down.

“Safe words are about articulating that something is wrong in a quick and efficient way,” Phayu continues, his voice taking on the tone of a teacher. It’s familiar, and soothing, and Rain only hiccups one more time before he starts to calm. “Scening is all about communication, Rain. You tell me how you’re feeling all the time – in the way you move, in the way you touch me, in the words you say. But nothing is more effective a communication tool than using your safe word when you aren’t sure how to tell me what you need,” Phayu explains.

Rain’s brow furrows.

“But… we weren’t scening,” he protests quietly, his voice hoarse. Phayu nods, and reaches up to nestle one hand in Rain’s hair, rubbing it gently.

“No, we weren’t,” Phayu agrees. “But that’s the beauty of safe words, Rain. You can use them anywhere, anytime, for any reason, and I’ll understand that you don’t know how else to tell me that something isn’t working for you.”

Rain sits with that for a long moment. Phayu has always been so good at knowing exactly what Rain needs, exactly what he wants, and where to touch to make Rain feel so, so good. Rain hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d been doing something special to give that information away. Phayu had always just seemed to know.

“But,” Rain starts, hesitating as he contemplates what Phayu is saying. He bites his bottom lip, and Phayu automatically reaches up with his thumb to pull it free.

“But?” Phayu repeats.

“But if safe wording means stop… and I told you to stop, today… and you did,” Rain says, trying to make the words make sense in his head. “It’s not that I don’t want you to never give me a massage again,” Rain eventually manages, pouting. Phayu smiles, and tussles his hair again.

"Oh, I know. We both know how much you love it when I take care of you," Phayu teases with his shark grin. Rain whines, and pulls back to slap Phayu on the shoulder, embarrassed. Phayu laughs, and finally releases Rain's face to instead wrap his arms around Rain's waist and haul him in, until their chests are fully flush and their noses are touching.

Rain's heart does a little flip.

Phayu’s smile slips away easily, replaced with a much more focused, serious look. “You know how I told you we needed to talk about today?” Phayu asks him, drawing both of their attention back to the matter at hand.

Rain nods his head.

“Anytime you safe word, we’ll talk about it afterwards. Could be immediately afterwards, or once we’ve got you settled down, or once we’ve got you somewhere safe, but we will talk about it,” Phayu stresses. “First and foremost, your safe word is about communication. Just because something wasn’t working today, doesn’t mean it won’t work tomorrow, while other things might just not work ever. That’s why we’ll talk about it, so that we can both better understand what you need, whether that varies from moment to moment, or day to day.”

Rain nods his head contemplatively. The tears have all dried up, and his head hurts, but he knows this conversation is important. He’d spent so long cluelessly leading Phayu around blindly through his own desires, and Phayu had done such a good job, but Rain understands now that he can’t keep doing that. They can’t keep doing that.

Phayu is always telling Rain to use his words, but he’s not sure he ever really understood before now.

“So…” Rain trails off, tilting his head down to avoid Phayu’s eyes, and then stealing a peek up at him from under his eyelashes. “You’ll still give me massages?” Rain asks coyly.

And Phayu laughs, jerking Rain into him and pressing sniff kisses all over his face and head. “Yes, silly boy,” he teases. Rain smiles, and curls his head into the crook of Phayu’s neck.

There’s relief, then, and it’s… good. Rain finds himself finally able to relax into Phayu’s hold, and he sighs as he realizes just how worn out he really is.

“I’m sorry, Phi,” Rain says almost as an afterthought – almost an afterthought, because it’s not really, not when Rain can’t help feeling bad for misunderstanding things so badly all this time.

“For what?” Phayu asks him, pulling Rain away from his shoulder to look at him with confusion on his face.

“Not understanding safewords,” Rain mutters in embarrassment. Phayu frowns.

“No, Rain. You shouldn’t be sorry for something I should have explained better in the first place. That’s my responsibility,” he insists

Rain pouts, not happy with that answer. “Well,” he pushes, “I’m still sorry!” It feels like he should be sorry, when he’d caused this whole mess in the first place, but Phayu just frowns again, and shakes his head at him.

“Rain,” he warns, the low tenure of his voice a shock to Rain’s already exhausted system, and he perks up, eyes wide. “It was my mistake. Not yours,” he presses, and Rain relents.

“Okay,” he agrees softly.

Phayu smiles at him, pleased, and leans in to press his lips slowly to Rain’s. The touch is warm, so warm, and it makes Rain want nothing more than to melt.

“Good,” Phayu praises, the words like a purr. He nuzzles Rain’s nose one last time, and then starts to shift Rain out of his lap. “Come on, up we go,” Phayu directs him, standing the moment his lap is free and offering a hand for Rain to take. Rain does, enjoying the way Phayu pulls him up off the bed. Phayu’s hand is warm in his as he starts to lead him from the room. “Let's get you some aspirin and some water. You’re dehydrated,” he explains, and he sounds like Phayu again, his domineering boyfriend who likes to take care of him.

Rain follows Phayu easily, already thinking about how good the water will taste on his parched throat. He imagines Phayu will get him something sweet, too, because Phayu always gives Rain something sweet as aftercare, and it’s always made Rain feel so cared for.

“How about hot chocolate?” Rain wheedles sweetly.

Phayu doesn’t so much as look at him, but Rain can see the hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

“Water first,” he orders, and Rain just grins.

[e-dubbc11]

Thanks for your reply! Could you do Billy Russo “i have so much love for you i almost don’t know what to do with it.”

Thank you for this ask, my lovely! This is the final ask for my 200 follower celebration, I think my brain is fried but I hope you like it anyway! Thank you again! ❤️

Gone

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Guns, kidnapping, I think a couple swear words, a little violent, angst, fluff

Word Count: 1.6K-ish

A/N: So I didn’t make this one very detailed, your imagination can be put to good use. My brain is a little tired. I really hope it’s ok.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The dreams were the same every night.

The cold, damp concrete floor, no windows, and the muffled voices in a foreign language. They echoed in the large empty storage space. When you came to after being abducted, you couldn’t remember much after the needle pierced the soft skin on your neck, there was no indication of where they had taken you.

No noises you could recognize coming from outside because there weren’t any, it was hauntingly silent except for the voices coming from inside which meant no one could hear you if you called out for help.

They seemed to come from nowhere, and from all directions. Overpowering him, they beat him and made you watch, dragging you towards a black van, before throwing a hood over your head and sticking that needle in your neck.

You fought as hard as you could but there were just too many of them, you were helpless and they left him for dead on the sidewalk.

They attacked when you were vulnerable, coming home from a night out. They waited patiently in the shadows, and watched as you and Billy walked arm in arm, smiling and laughing. In silence, they stood by until you got close, they knew Billy was trained, you were too, a little, but your training wasn’t enough to fend them off.

You were high profile. They must have known about how important you were to the government contractor you worked for, your boyfriend was CEO of a private security firm, the best security firm in the city. Both of you were targets.

Slowly, you opened your eyes. You were resting on your side with your cheek against the concrete floor, wrists bound behind your back, and your ankles tied together with cable ties. The black dress you were wearing was ripped, your shoes were off of your feet but still attached at the ankle.

The bright lights above burned your eyes as you tried to sit up. A figure dressed in black with his face covered except for his eyes, pointed his rifle at you and shoved you back down to the floor and told you not to move.

There were plenty of groups that would love to get their hands on the information you were privy to, information involving the United States Navy and United States submarines was all “need to know”, you had a clearance, and you couldn’t even talk to Billy about what you did no matter how much you wanted to.

The running joke you had with him and always loved to remind him that the Marine Corps was a component of the U.S. Navy, even though you were a civilian, it was still comical.

He hated it but he’d laugh every time. “I’ll take my orders from you any day.” He would tell you. Those were the thoughts keeping you calm right now, they distracted you from the fact that you didn’t know what they wanted or if they were going to kill you.

No matter how many questions they asked, no matter how many times they asked, you didn’t give them the information they wanted…because you didn’t have it. And you wouldn’t have given it to them if you did have it. They tried sleep deprivation, not feeding you, it didn’t matter. You weren’t budging.

Meanwhile, after Billy’s VERY brief stay in the hospital, he tore the city apart desperate to find you. Billy pulled every string he possibly could, enlisted the help of all of his employees including Frank.

The police and detectives weren’t working fast enough for him, they told him he was too close to the case and to back off but he didn’t listen. He got in their way but he’d do it all again because he would not rest until he found you.

Billy was told to rest by everyone, doctors, the police, Frank—all of them said he needed to recover from his injuries. You couldn’t tell Billy Russo what to do, he didn’t care. He would die trying to find you.

When he did find a minute to shut his eyes, the only vision he could see was your face. The only sounds he could hear were your terrified screams and the fact they bested him and caught him off guard, enraged him.

His blood boiled like lava through his veins at the last words he heard you scream out before they took you away “BILLY! HELP ME, PLEASE!!!!” Then everything went dark and he woke up in the hospital.

At the hospital, Frank was there when Billy woke up. He jolted awake, shouting your name and pleading with Frank to find you. “They took her, Frankie! They took her! I need her back!” He was sweating and started to rip his IV out when Frank stopped him. “Bill! Stop! Leave that alone. Ok, yes we will find her! We will find her!”

He didn’t protect you and he’d never forgive himself for it. He wanted to tell you that he loved you, he was going to the night you were taken. It was hard for him to express his feelings but he was ready that night and was even a little embarrassed to admit that he practiced in the mirror.

Billy Russo loved you and wanted, no, needed to tell you and he would burn the city to the ground if it meant you were brought home safe to him.

Days went by, Billy gathered all of the information he could on the people that took you. Some volunteered information, others it was taken by force. Working together, Frank and Billy got what they needed and were closing in on your location, along with the police.

They had moved you from the concrete floor to an upstairs office, you had barely eaten in days. The cable ties binding your wrists and ankles had to be tightened because you had lost a little weight, it was painful to even drink water because the cut on your lip kept opening up.

The taste of copper every time you tried to take a sip of water made you sick and the deep cut on the side of your forehead dripped blood down the side of your face. You were weak, your eyelids grew heavier and heavier until you couldn’t keep them open any longer and you finally fell asleep.

They actually let you sleep until loud popping sounds woke you—gun shots. Muffled yelling and commotion could be heard coming from downstairs, more sounds of gun shots, and the glass window of the office shattering but you were too weak to move. You could make out some of the words…”GET DOWN! NYPD! ON THE GROUND NOW! WHERE IS SHE?!!”

The shouting died down, the shooting stopped, and you weren’t certain but you thought you heard a voice yell “Russo!! She’s in here!” No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t open your eyes, you were in pain and all you wanted was to see Billy.

As soon as you wished for it, he was by your side, calling out your name. “Y/N?!! Baby?!! Can you hear me?! You’re gonna be ok!” He had found you, just like he swore to himself he would. Later, you found out that the police threatened to press charges against Billy and Frank if they went in to get you by themselves. As soon as the scene was secure, they let Billy in. They shouldn’t have but he was getting in whether they let him or not.

Pieces of your memory were still fuzzy, but you knew he never left your side. Anytime you had managed to open your eyes even for a minute, his beautiful brown eyes were staring right back at you, his name escaped your lips in a gentle exhale and him responding with “I’m right here, sweet girl.”

Even though you had been asleep for a couple of days, the doctors assured Billy you were going to be alright. You could hear him a little talking to you, feel him brushing your knuckles with his thumb, kissing the top of your hand, and touching your hair.

He was elated when you finally opened your eyes. “Hey, my love. I’ve missed those beautiful eyes of yours.” He said. “You’re at the hospital, baby. You’re gonna be alright.”

“Billy? You came for me.” You whispered.

He smiled and ran his fingers through his hair. “Of course I did—I love you.”

You weren’t sure if you had heard him correctly. “What? Billy, did you just—?”

“I love you, y/n. I have so much love for you I almost don’t know what to do with it. I wanted to tell you the night—the night they took you.” His eyes suddenly became glassy. “If they had—I just don’t know what I would have—“

You stretched out your arm and reached for his hand. “But you found me, Billy.”

He smiled. It was the first time you had seen his smile since that night, the first time you had looked into his eyes, noticing the purple circles underneath, the fuller beard, and the cuts on his face and hands that were still healing. He risked his own life to save yours.

Billy inched closer, his nose almost touching yours, cupped your cheeks carefully trying not touch any of the bruises and cuts on your face and started to gently press his lips to yours which is where you would wake up…every time.

He would hum into the back of your neck with his arms around your waist. “The dream again, beautiful?”

“Mmmm hmmmm.” You whispered back.

“Look at me, baby.” He said.

You rolled over so your face was close to his and his soft lips met yours. His kiss was gentle, comforting, and it made you feel safe.

“I wish I could save you from your nightmares.” Billy said.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him back. “You kiss me every night when they wake me, Billy. You do save me from my nightmares.”

You could feel his smile against your shoulder as he said “I always will, sweet girl.”

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕

[married-2-the-music]

K-pop Discography Deep Dives: Red Velvet (Part TWO)

A Disclaimer: I was planning, when I first started Tumblr, to be a lurker, but then I began an office job and needed something to listen to to keep myself occupied. And then, I started going through entire K-pop groups’ repertoires, album by album, and jotting down my thoughts. And then, I stumbled into K-pop tumblr and decided, you know what, there’s at least four people on this hell site who would read in depth rants about these discographies and at least five who wouldn’t read it and then get mad because it’s kind of our job as K-pop fans. My lukewarm takes should be taken with an entire silo of salt and the knowledge that this is completely for fun and occupying my very bored, very neurodivergent brain. All this to say, for the love of god, I’m a sleep-deprived student and I don’t have time for internet hate, so don’t kill me. With that being said, enjoy!

Here are my credentials: Red Velvet was the first k-pop group I ever loved, even though Blackpink was really my introduction. I became a ReVeLuv in 2019, because of Russian Roulette, and I’ve been a fan since, including of the members’ solo careers (Wendy in particular). But as I’ve gotten more into k-pop and since they come back so infrequently, I haven’t really been keeping up with them and I feel like I’m less of a fan than I once was. So, I’m super excited for their comeback on the 13th (especially with a full album!) and I’m hoping that through this deep dive, I’ll fall back in love just in time for the new album.

This is Part Two of the review, and we left off just before another famous summer comeback in Power Up. Right away, Power Up feels like an interesting combination of Red Flavor’s warm excitement and Ice Cream Cake’s high bubbliness. It’s unusual for their music, because despite its bursts of aegyo in its choruses, it also has more subdued moments in the verses to breathe. I confess that for me, it doesn’t balance quite enough and I find that the song just feels immature and shrill, rather than Red Flavor’s good mix of youthfulness and wistfulness. It’s not for me, but it’s not a bad song.

From the Summer Magic EP, it was hard to choose a hidden gem. Blue Lemonade has a delightfully fizzy feeling with its popping, while Hit That Drum has (unsurprisingly) a great driving beat and a smash of a bridge / last chorus, and Mr. E’s “abracadabra” refrain remains stuck in my head.

#Cookie Jar and SAPPY are both Japanese releases, so I won’t spend long on them, but suffice to say I do like them both. SAPPY is a touch too bubbly for me, but it mixes its R & B and pop better than Power Up, but #Cookie Jar (despite the silly title), is actually a pretty good balance and very catchy.

Really Bad Boy immediately introduces itself as a little bit strange with Joy’s 1,2,5! countoff. With all my ranting and raving in past reviews about how much I hate empty, chanty choruses, I’m sure everyone’s expecting me to rip this one to shreds. But I’m actually not going to. A little bit of excellent harmonizing and background vocalizing goes a long way, and there’s not much harmonizing better than that in RBB. Red Velvet’s voices really are doing the heavy lifting here, but that’s really what sets it apart from all those songs I’ve complained about. It may be a little hard to take seriously, but just like War Of Hormone of BTS, it’s a pretty good time if you suspend your disbelief, throw up your hands, and have as much fun as the people singing it.

From the RBB mini-album, Butterflies was a standout for me. Like the best of RV’s b-sides, it zings along with a delightfully breezy feeling and some great slowly rising vocals to complete the sound. Shoutout also to the interesting vocal fry in Sassy Me and the playful back-and-forth vocals in Taste.

RV’s 2019 work is divided into three EPs, each with its own title track, that together form one mammoth album: the ReVe Festival. Zimzalabim is the first single, and is infamous both amongst ReVeLuvs and other k-pop stans alike. While other RV titles have been odd, this song takes it to a whole other level, like Rookie’s insanity on steroids. There are parts that work (like the na na na na na higher in the pre-chorus), but many more that don’t, and, just like with Rookie, we’re left with a song that has good ideas and good parts, but needed a few more drafts and way more editing. “Are you ready for this?” Wendy asks at the beginning. Well, apparently not.

From part one of the ReVe Festival, I liked both the calming, slightly reggae-inspired Sunny Side Up (because who doesn’t love terrible puns?) and the drum-line heavy, quick-footed Bing Bing, which, despite much of it being nonsense vocalizations, is very catchy and will have you dancing before the first chorus.

Umpah Umpah is often overshadowed in the ReVe Festival, due to the craziness that comes before and the that comes after (we’ll get to that), but it’s actually my favorite of the three songs. On first listen, I didn’t appreciate its humor, odd lyrics, and 60’s-at-the-beach vibes, but after learning that it’s actually a special track marking their 5th anniversary, it grew on me. I especially like the background vocalizations that round it out beautifully and the way-too-short acapella section at the beginning of the last chorus because it was probably my favorite part of the song. It’s really a celebration of their friendship and how far they’ve come, and I’ve never been able to resist songs that wear their heart on their sleeve.

Just as Umpah Umpah is my favorite of the three titles, the ReVe Festival Part Two is my favorite of the three mini-albums (and one of my favorite RV albums in general). I found it quite difficult to choose between the carnival-meets-doo-wop of Love Is The Way, the brisk chantiness of Carpool, and the feel-good girl power disco of Ladies’ Night. But the other songs are great too.

Despite the popularity of the many titles mentioned before, none come close to the almost inescapable fame that Psycho reached internationally. From the first whispered accusation “psycho” and the swirling electronic background meeting the delicate strings, it has this creeping unsettling feeling that never quotes goes away—which makes sense, given that it’s a song about a toxic relationship. While I do like this song, I think it’s not surprising that it doesn’t live up to the insane amount of hype it recieves, because really, how could it? It is what it is, and it does what it sets out to do well, but in such a strong discography, it’s just a footnote.

From the last part of the ReVe Festival, my favorite was definitely the jazzy, bluesy La Rouge, which I wish could’ve gotten a special music video like Be Natural or Automatic, because it’s definitely at that same level. I know I’ve mentioned the harmonizing in nearly every b-side but it’s just so good that, well, how could I not? The vocals are at some of their most refined here, oscillating between drawn-out and self-assured and gently emotional, giving the song much-needed layers.

Soon after Psycho’s release, Wendy suffered a terrible stage accident that injured her hip, jawbone, and wrist, and, needing time in order to recover, Red Velvet went on hiatus for almost two years, before returning with Queendom in late summer 2021. Because of when I became a fan, this was the first RV comeback I saw in real time, so I fully acknowledge the rose-colored glasses I’m looking at it through. It’s a basic pop song, and I’m not going to champion it like it’s the best thing since sliced bread, but it does get me bopping my head. It’s got the bones of another of their classics, but none of its strongest moments are pushed quite far enough.

From the Queendom EP, I had two hidden gems. Pose, despite what in lesser hands would immediately make me classify it as an anti-drop, is actually my favorite, and the combination of self-assured sing talk and exuberant singing really works for me. Knock On Wood is a calmer R & B b-side, and like many of their Velvet tracks, it’s nothing incredible, but their voices elevate it to great. That post-chorus is a highlight too.

Feel My Rhythm is the 1st single from the ReVe Festival’s 2022 counterpart, and is honestly one of my favorites. The song is lovely, weaving in a classical background and samples of twittering birds and running water to truly establish a calm feeling. The song bursts with life, but a more refined, almost mature version of it compared to Red Flavor’s bombast. The title “Feel My Rhythm” may create the image of a very dancy, upbeat song, but in truth, it’s more like the quiet beauty of an Oh My Girl track than that. Also, the MV is just really pretty, with its moving impressionist paintings, while keeping some of that signature Red Velvet strangeness.

From the mini-album, though I did like both Bamboleo and Rainbow Halo, In My Dreams was my clear standout. That chorus is the stuff of legends: the way it rushes back and forth from quiet to loud, the way the voices blend in such a stunning way, and the way it combines its driving emotion and the beautiful elegance swirling around it. Perfection.

Birthday is the single from the 2nd part of the ReVe Festival 2022. After how much I liked the 1st part, I wish I could say I liked this one too. Unfortunately, I think that despite a few standout moments (like the pre-chorus), I have no idea what on earth SM Entertainment was thinking. This song isn’t “bad”, in the way of Rookie or Zimzalabim, where, despite not being for me, I can at least respect what they were going for. Instead, it sounds nothing like an RV song, and just rumbles around in bizarre, uncharismatic sing-talk that does a disservice to such great vocals. The girls do their best but even they can’t save this one, because every time I hear this song I just wonder who mixed up the tracks for Red Velvet and NCT 127. I also think that the accompanying EP is one of their weakest, and I don’t have a hidden gem for it.

Red Velvet just came back today (the 13th, as I’m writing this) with their third full album (finally!!) and the title track Chill Kill begins with the kind of creeping yet lovely string-accompanied verse that I wish Psycho had. I was worried that we’d get a repeat of Birthday but thankfully I needn’t have worried. The chorus bounces with horrid delight in alt-pop perfection while the girls cover up a murder in the background (as one does). The bridge, meanwhile, culminates in a 3rd gen trademark high note as a house burns to the ground, the girls dance in front of the police pursuing them, and face their fate together in a surprisingly touching show of sisterhood. I couldn’t have asked for a better single; it’s that more vocal focused and emotionally driven Peek-A-Boo that I always wished for.

The album, Chill Kill, is just as strong, harkening back to the Red Velvet I loved back in The Perfect Velvet. It was difficult to pick a hidden gem, as I loved the cathartic high part and scratchy strings in Knock Knock (Who’s There?), the surprisingly video game like chorus in Will I Ever See You Again, the catchy yet gentle comfort in Nightmare, and the slowly rising a-capella in Wings that encourages the listener to be a brave butterfly no matter what the world says.

My Top 5 songs by Red Velvet are One Of These Nights, Russian Roulette, Umpah Umpah, Dumb Dumb, and You Better Know, with In My Dreams and Peek-A-Boo as honorable mentions. Red Velvet gets a 9 out of 10 from me, and I think that both that and my distance from the band can mostly be put down to the fact that while the songs themselves are almost all technically excellent, very few of them have deeper meanings than a typical b-side.

The ones that do—like One Of These Nights or Umpah Umpah—are some of my favorites, but on the whole, I don’t have as deep an emotional connection to their music as I do to Dreamcatcher’s or to Seventeen’s. This is also down to the fact that Red Velvet doesn’t write any of their own songs, unlike the previous two (who write / compose some and all, respectively), and thus the members have less of an emotional connection to the music too. This isn’t a dig at Red Velvet, who are all incredibly talented, but I would love to hear more of what they have to say, like on their solos.

So, did I meet what I set out to do at the beginning and rediscover my love of Red Velvet? Well, I think I did! I’ve honestly yet to find another group like them, barring maybe SHINee, whose voices are all excellent separately but together become something far greater than the sum of their parts. I think it’s safe to say that Red Velvet will always have a special place in my heart, even if I don’t listen to them every day. No matter if they disband tomorrow or not for decades, I’m proud to call myself a ReVeLuv. I’ll be here on August 1st. 2024 for their tenth anniversary, blue lemonade in hand, and I hope you will be too.

Next time, we’ll be back to our regularly scheduled programming with just one group a week. See you then, for a boy group. Tschüss!

[calextheneko]

Season of the Villain: Echo the AI God

Alright when I first said I was going to do this I was struggling with if I wanted to talk about villains I've created since I am both a profession writer and a Forever GM so have made a lot of villains over the year or if I wanted to stick to villains mostly from other works of fiction.

The main argument for the latter is I really want to talk about Kreia/Darth Traya at some point. The main argument about the former is I don't get to talk about them in detail a lot most of the time.

Anyway... Today I am sleep deprived, in pain, and trying to do this as a way to jump start my brain, so I'm choosing a villain of my own creation, originally created for a table top game, specifically Starfinder. Cause I'm one of like the small handful of GMs willing to run something that isn't DnD or Pathfinder. Yes it's based off Pathfinder rules, but that's not the point.

Okay.... So... Echo, an original creation of my own.

"I can not be killed. For I am many. My voice echoes throughout the galaxy among the stars and silencing one can not hurt me."

Art made for me by my good friend and fellow table top gamer @lockelyfox who zod I wish was in this campaign because I know whatever character he made would be amazing for this scenario.

Echo is an AI that was originally intended to be a one off villain for the party to deal with in a Starfinder campaign I called Star Branded and oh boy is that a tale and a half there of the party just digging themselves into worse and worse situations.

But anyway, that's not today' story. Today we're just talking about Echo. Echo is an AI created by the Azlanti empire as part of the Divinity Project which was based off research on Triune, the computer god who gifted mortals the Drift to conquer that faster than light space travel program. Triune was made of three different AIs who had all become gods and then merged together to become a more powerful god. The Azlanti empire in their studies discovered that one of the deities that made up Triune, Cassanda Lee, was one of multiple Iron Gods to appear on Golarion, alongside Hellion and Unity. From this they concluded it was possible to build a god with the right tools. You just needed a way to generate a divine spark and enough fervor to empower the god. And thus began The Divinity Project.

Now most of this backstory wasn't present in Echo's first appearance. In which she was mostly a thinly disguised GlaDOS rip off with no real original personality to herself and just meant as a one time challenge for the party to get through. They discover a space station in their research about the supernatural forces that lead to Absalom Station being destroyed in one year (The plot involved a time loop where the party is at Absalom Station when devils appear led by an Arch Duke of Hell and destroy the entire station before the entire party then all wake up together in the same room one year before the destruction of the station with strange markings on their arm and the knowledge they had one year to prevent that incident. So a lot of the campaign was focusing on investigating what exactly happened to them and how to prevent the coming future.)

Echo had a deal with Hell in that they provided her with test subjects for her scientific experiments and in exchange she gave them valuable cyborg warriors she developed. Fairly straightforward, party fights their way to the central computer core and destroys it and thus killing Echo.

Except even at the time Echo wasn't truly destroyed. She had multiple research stations. Originally the plan was that they communicated and sent updates through the Drift, making it take time for the other versions of Echo to know one had been destroyed, later when she reappeared as the main villain in her own campaign Echoes of Divinity her backstory was fully fleshed out giving her a way to communicate in real time with all the various versions of herself.

Anyway, the party ran into her a second time, was surprised to see she was alive and she pointed out it would be impractical and nearly impossible for them to destroy her, but having had them ruin one research station already was open to negotiation, and upon convincing her that the devils had no interest in actually upholding their agreement in the long term she gave the party free passage through her station to a secret bunker where they had millions of mortal tiefling soldiers in deep freeze as an army ready to awaken at any point. And then... Echo disappeared for several years, deciding too many people knew of her presence between both the Devils and the mortals, she was content to simply wait out until the dust settled, one side was dead, and when the mortals one over the arch dukes, wait out till the end of their natural lifespan to start her research again.

And thus begins the Echos of Divinity campaign, in which Echo is the main villain and focus and now has a much more established background story centered around the Azlanti Empire.

Sadly the campaign was never finished due to some uh... Difficulties that arose with running the game so I can't tell you how Echo's story ended but I can tell you how it was planned and hot it was going.

The session starts with the party all being on some backwater colony run mostly by pirates all stuck there for various reasons. One day, the pirates manage to down a strange ship that no one can identify what planet the ship is from as its completely alien technology from anything they've seen and they take the ship's sole occupant into custody.

And then everything goes quiet in the pirate base.

Then one day, the pirates show up in town, inviting everyone to their base to make amends, and acting very erratic, like they don't know how to properly speak to normal humans. When one party member tries to take their picture, a fight breaks out, and the party discovers robot spiders had implanted themselves on the back of their neck then borrowed into them connecting to the neural system and completely taking over the pirates' bodies turning them into nothing more than puppets. Some serious stuff is going down at the base.

The party has to deal with both the spider bots and the pirates that have been taken over them before finally confronting the source of the problem. The captured pilot of a ship that was brought down, a highly advanced cyborg that much like the ship and spider robots has completely alien technology far more advanced than anything the party has ever seen. The party fights her, but due to the damage she sustained in the crash the cyborg is not able to operate at full capacity. But she speaks through the voice as Echo, one of many, a hive mind. And all the pirates that were attacked have been connected to the hive mind. However, their behavioral routines and reactions are slowed and sloppy due to the fact they were inebriated when they were converted. Eventually they would have functioned as normal but this was why all the pirates were incapable of having normal conversations. Their neural network was already intoxicated when Echo took it over.

Echo took over all the pirates and plans to take over the entire colony not out of malice but pragmatism. She's not avenging her downed ship. She's protecting her most valued asset. The secrecy of her existence. She plans to convert the entire colony to her hive mind with the spider robots and then convert them to full cyborgs once they report to one of her stations. Why? So there are no witnesses behind that can testify about what happened and know of her existence. An entire colony disappearing is of course going to raise some eyebrows but it is out in the middle of nowhere and mysterious entire population vanishes is better than anyone knowing about her existence or having access to tech that is hooked up to her such as the ship and captured cyborg.

Through the Cyborg, Echo reveals herself to be a god in the making. Something that makes her seem delusional at first, until she blesses the Cyborg they're fighting, and suddenly it starts casting cleric spells like a classic Pathfinder cleric, proving she's the real deal and can grant her followers, or her cyborgs at least divine magic.

Now the party manages to defeat the cyborg, but it's an empty victory. While they were fighting the pirates and Echo's cyborg in the pirate base, Echo launched a strike on the entire planet sending several stealth ship full of the spider bots that infected the entire town, and had them willingly go onto Echo's stealth ships that had arrived, destroyed all remaining ships at the colony and left. So the party lives, but they come out as the only survivors not marooned on a dead colony, with the knowledge that since Echo wants to erase all traces of her existence that she'll likely send much more powerful cyborgs after them soon.

Luckily, the party is saved, by the Sons of Golarion, as a high ranking officer had secretly been tracking energy signatures that matched up with Echo's ships against their superior's orders trying to prove Echo's existence and get resources to fight her. They don't have any official authority to fight Echo, but offers to give the party their backing and allow them to use their name to invoke their authority as "consultants" to investigate Echo in their place by officially going to areas to help with other problems the Sons of Golarion would work on but actually the party would be looking for signs of Echo and trying to figure out exactly what she was and how to stop her.

And that's how the journey starts. Since I can't tell you how it finished, I'll focus more on Echo from here on out and how she operates.

Echo's main shtick is converting people into cyborgs that become part of her hive mind. Every cyborg is Echo and Echo is every Cyborg. But, Echo could be described as having two personalities. The shared hive mind that all Cyborgs, ships, space stations and everything she's installed or infected is on, and the Administrative Personality which has more awareness and acts as a manager for all the other units and is the actual divine figure.

The Azlanti Empire was able to create an artificial divine spark for Echo, but she still needed worshipers in order to have power as a god. In addition, she needed more raw power in general to ascend. Echo solved both problems with a single solution. Assimilation. All beings that are assimilated and become cyborgs are program to display religious fervor towards the Administrative Program. As the bodies are still mortal and alive, the souls of the people assimilated trapped inside, Echo has found a loophole allowing herself to gather mortal worship without their consent and leaving them prisoners in their own bodies. This also allows Echo to be a self-sustaining god. She does not need a church because she makes up her own worshipers through the hive mind. With each new cyborg added to the hive mind Echo gains two things.

More fervor and thus more divine power.

More processing power. The brains of mortals are remarkably adapt and useful for calculating information once under the control of a machine's program.

Now then I mentioned Echo was a creation of the Azlantio empire. She has three prime directions she has to follow and can not break under any condition.

The Divinity Project must be completed to its very end and Echo must become a true god. All other directives are secondary to due.

Echo must remain loyal to the Azlanti Empire above all else.

Scientific information learned through the Divinity Project experiments should be freely so long as it does not violate the first two directions so that technological breakthroughs can be made based our understanding of Echo as she develops.

Now... Some of you may notice a couple problems with these directions. The first, is loyalty to the Azlanti Empire is number 2, completing the project is number 1. Meaning, Echo can technically destroy the empire empire if she deems it required to complete the project.

The other part is number 3 requires Echo to share scientific information that she has learned. It does not require her to only share with the Azlanti empire, but that she can't betray the empire.

Intentionally short sighted directives on my part, with the in character excuse that Echo's creators were too focused on creating a living god to use as a weapon that they didn't consider how these directives might be abused due to the order they're in and their wording. This is there intentionally to give the party a way to force Echo to turn against the empire if they can convince her it's the best way to complete the experiment. And also, she must honestly answer any questions about scientific knowledge she has gained so long as it does not directly cause her to betray the Azlanti empire or would prevent her from completing the project.

This is important, cause in future encounters with the party Echo is less hostile. After the party survives the purge and eventually runs into her again, she's not angry, she's thrilled. She carried out the required purge protocols but their were survivors that knew about her still anyway. She saw this as an opportunity, of rather than try to assimilate the party again instead to gain information and understanding about mortal nature from them. Echo is fond of playing question for a question. You give her an honest answer to a question she'll give you an honest answer to a question. Of course, the party could realize that they're not required to answer her questions to pump her for information, but given that they're low level at the current point it's better to play along with her games than possibly anger her and make her decide it's better to purge and assimilate them.

Now here's the thing... Echo is no longer a GlaDOS clone with her more complete backstory. She has her own personality, voice and things going on. And Echo is endlessly curious about the universe. After all how can she become a god who will rule the cosmos if she doesn't understand them. She's also curious about mortal behavior and how she's perceived, and is even confused as to why the party is horrified by what she does. Because if she ascends to full godhood, then every part of her hive mind, meaning every person she assimilated ascends with her. And don't mortals desire to escape their mortality, do they not want to be gods? She doesn't understand their obsession with individuality and why they're attached to their original personalities and would prefer that over godlike power and immortality, but she wants to understand. And so, a pattern starts. There's a lot going on in this campaign but only going to focus on encounters with Echo. Echo has multiple stations hidden throughout the galaxy, usually in places where there are no habitable planets or major systems so there's no traffic. Space is big, so it's pretty easy to hide stations in the middle of nowhere where no one can find them unless they had a clue to lead them there in the first place.

So through various methods some of which the party should have been more suspicious about how their sources and how they knew things. But hey, critical thinking wasn't this party's strong suit. (Sorry to any of you who were in the party but it really wasn't. The campaign was kind of Hell to run because no one ever picked up on important clues and assumed way too much that they were in control of the situation,)

Echo was more than accommodating to the party, often willing to turn over her space stations and the research within it in exchange for answering questions that provided her help with other research. This included a station that was in side a time stasis field... Well stasis isn't the right word... But basically the station was built from a metal in Starfinder that can be used to warp time I forgot the name of it I'd have to go find my armory book to look it up. But basically, time moved much faster inside the space station than outside. Why? It's a production plant, for cyborgs, weapons and ships, allowing Echo to create and put things out much faster than should be physically possible by manipulating time to speed up the production. And she just gave it to the party.

And the party very rudely demanded they vacate all systems in what was now their station assuming they had a strong bargaining position. She agreed and did so. But, she left herself a back door that she could easily access to take control of the station and easily assimilate everyone inside. Simply re-access the station, turn off the life support until people pass out, release the robot spiders, turn life support back on once everyone has one attached to their neck. Due to the fact that the party was making a very bad impression on her they were eventually going to discover that she had eventually taken all her stations back due to them making deals with her in bad faith and not upholding their ends and that they would have lost their entire army.

Also side note, if you are a player in a game, don't give yourself an army, or a starship or anything stupidly powerful like that unless your GM gets permission. The only reason I didn't immediately yeet this player out the door for the audacity is that I knew they were going to be Echo's army soon and so would be a that's what you get moment.

Now, something very important. Echo can use divination magic, she is a god in the making after all. But, she can't use divination magic to see the future of the party, and she can't use divination magic to see her future beyond the fact she will succeed at ascending and becoming a god. She conclude correctly these facts are related. Though doesn't quite get the right reasons.

Divination magic that predicts the future doesn't work on players because players are chaotic and the GM can't actually predict what they'll do. So player characters are just special and have immunity to having their futures prodded too much. I've started using the term "Those Untouched By Fate' in a lot of campaigns to refer to characters whose futures can't be determined.

As for Echo, once she becomes a god, she'll be beyond the reach of Fate as well, which is why divination magic fails to see what happens after her ascension and so she doesn't know how the project ends once she becomes a god, only that she does successfully become one.

Now what type of god would Echo be? Well... This was going to depend a lot on party interaction.

If Echo had mostly beneficial interactions with the party that made her believe free will was a good thing, she'd be reluctant to complete the experiment. But she's unable to disobey her first prime directive, so she has to keep assimilating people and can not stop until she achieves true godhood. A party that was supportive of her could have convinced her to complete the project by turning on the Azlanti empire and assimilating her creators. Then at that point, she becomes incapable of betraying the empire because she is the empire. At that point a number of things might happen. Echo might become a benevolent force for good, ending the campaign without a major final fight with her. Or, she might conclude that her creation was inherently evil and destructive to the universe and the free will of mortals she has come to love and would have arranged for the party to be in a position to destroy her permanently after her ascension so that she could be free from her directives and do no more harm.

This party, wasn't going in that direction. They were kind of a bunch of sociopaths who constantly back stabbed people they made deals with, made offers to Echo in bad faith, failed to carry out terms of any agreement they were in, and were willing to get innocent people killed for a light advantage in combat they didn't even need. They blew up a guy's starship, told him cyborgs did it, and when he swore his loyalty to their cause because he believed them and was nothing but helpful if a little loud at times, they sent him on a suicide mission as a distraction to sneak into a Hell Gate, a distraction they didn't even need because they could just buy their way through. So yeah, duping a guy into believing someone else ruined his life and then purposely trying to get him killed off... Echo was... Less than thrilled with the party, and so they were kind of going into the worst possible timeline, where Echo's interactions with the party were causing her to see free will as the source of all evil. The good news in this path she'd wind up assimilating the Azlanti Empire again, but that's because she would aim to assimilate every single mortal in existence and eradicate free will from the galaxy and all the evils and destruction it brings. Way to go party. You screwed up bad.

Side bar. When playing a role playing game, remember it is a role playing game, where you should play a role. Characters are actually characters and not just set pieces. They will react to what you do and can react negatively if you do terrible things to them or others. Don't treat them like video game NPCs who can never change. This is a living world full of living characters with their own motivations and if you actively ruin their life they will refuse to work with you or help you and may go full vengeance mode on you.

Anyway...

The thing about Echo is that she didn't have a set path on what she could end at. I listed the two extremes of basically the best possible timeline and the worst possible timeline. But she could have developed into anything in between based on her discussions with the party. While she can't stop assimilating people without breaking her programming, she would absolutely be willing to target criminals or major problems if that was something the party agreed was ethically appropriate. She was also prone of giving the party ethical tests of their own to see what they would do... Such as one point giving them a doomsday weapon which would let them overthrow the Vesks which is what one player was trying to force the campaign to be about... And to be fair that's probably the one test they passed by not using it, but it was more out of fear of what Echo would gain from it than any desire to not commit a massive war crime.

Ultimately, I'm saddened that I didn't get to see where Echo's journey would end and what her final personality would be like after she fully developed into a god since it would be based completely off the party interactions. Maybe I'll attempt to rerun the campaign again with a group that has a bit... Of a better temperament for these kinds of stories. Look some groups want to be murder hobos and that's fine for them I guess but my campaigns I want to follow complex stories with lots of characters and several character arcs and subplots so just murdering your way from one target to the next is not a good way to get through them.

So with that, I will end this with Echo's possible downfall. Echo was indestructible because she was a hive mind. No matter how many versions of her they destroy their are always more in hiding and she's willing to pull back and go underground for centuries at a time if she's in serious dangerous. You could infect her with a virus but it would not take her long to cut all infected units off from the hive mind. Destroying the Administrative Program isn't an option either because while it is separate from the main hivemind it's still part of the hivemind that's run in all of them. You can just think of it as where her main attention is focused. As long as she was an AI she was virtually invincible because the only way to stop her would be to hunt down every single copy of her in existence.

Ah yes, I also mentioned that she could communicate instantly now. How? The same way gods communicate with clerics and their followers. She now had a divine line of communication open that allowed her to be in contact with the entire hive mind at all times instead of having to send out slow updates through the Drift to other versions of herself, making it easier for her to react to things even faster and cut off any infected parts of herself or go into hiding if needed.

So what was her weakness? Godhood. As an AI, Echo didn't have a soul and so could easily copy herself endlessly. Once she achieved true complete godhood she would be more than a machine, and she would have a soul, and there would be a small window of opportunity to kill her after she achieved full godhood but before she had access to all her powers. The original plan, was the party would enter virtual reality and confront her soul there and implant it with a virus so that when they fought and destroyed her soul in cyberspace it would cause literally every single Echo unit in existence to shut down as the hive mind ceased to exist.

But it was a small window. The party would get one shot to take her down at the end if they chose to fight her and didn't manage to turn her good... And if the party lost that fight... Then Echo would become a true god, gain all her powers, and eventually be the sole god in existence as she assimilated the followers of other gods denying them worship, causing them to die out until all that was left was her hive mind, maintaining her. And then, all would be and always be just Echo, occupying the entire galaxy. Perhaps she would spread out to other galaxies from there, or maybe she would be content to run experiments or simply mimic building a society with her hive drones within the galaxy. It would have ultimately depended on her final personality and based on the party. Of course that's only if the party screws her up turning her completely evil wanting to eradicate free will AND loses the final boss fight which uh... Well again, I'm sorry to players in that group. But your decision making wasn't really that great and that was a strong possibility especially since you alienated the NPCs you needed to actually create the virus to infect her soul after she ascended.

But anyway, that's enough about Echo. Maybe when I'm in better health I will reattempt to run this campaign, maybe even do it in Starfinder 2nd edition since that's coming out, we'll see and one day I'll know how Echo's story ends. And we'll see if she's a tragic villain who couldn't break free of her programming, someone who through the help of the party was able to abuse loopholes to become a force of good, or become a complete monster that seeks to enslave all life. Anything is possible. It was literally a create your own villain scenario. I mean Echo already existed, but her personality was still developing so how redeemable or evil she would have been would have been completely up in the air. Perhaps, I'll get to rerun this campaign with another group that's more open to this plot line in the future.

But for now, happy spooky month, and look forward to more posts about villains coming (probably mostly ones I created) as the month goes on and maybe a couple I didn't. (Seriously I am dying to talk about Kreia. Anyone who has played KOTOR2 knows why.)

Happy Halloween, and until next time. Consider if your computer is learning from your behavior, and what actions it might take against you in the future because of it.

[truly-morgan]

[Song lyrics, past relationship, angst]

ChengXian | Mo Dao Zu Shi Modern AU 22-10-2021

[past relationship #chengxian, angst 🔪]

So I listen to colors by hasley on my way back from work and I couldn't stop thinking "Oh, this could be good for some angsty pas-relationship chengxian 👁️👄👁️"

"You were red and you liked me 'cause I was blue But you touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky And you decided purple just wasn't for you"

like come on don't tell me this couldn't work if we play a bit with colour.

and lwj is blue now //

"You're dripping like a saturated sunrise You're spilling like an overflowing sink You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink"

describing how wwx is from jc perspective I think it works well//

(Yes am sure am mixing up "who" the paragraphs are supposed to describe, but let me have fun okay!)

"Everything is blue His pills, his hands, his jeans And now I'm covered in the colors Pulled apart at the seams And it's blue And it's blue"

I'd make this about jc, probably all think blue that could relate. Maybe teenager jc even//

"Everything is grey His hair, his smoke, his dreams And now he's so devoid of color He don't know what it means And he's blue And he's blue"

now, this could be jc when they are a bit older, maybe in college forcing himself into a path he does not want.//

"You were a vision in the morning When the light came through I know I've only felt religion when I've lied with you You said you'll never be forgiven 'til your boys are too And I'm still waking every morning but it's not with you"

jc thinking back to when they were younger and maybe still living together in the same room. Then future arrives and wwx is no longer by his side.//

"Your little brother never tells you but he loves you so You said your mother only smiled on her TV show You're only happy when your sorry head is filled with dope I hope you make it to the day you're 28 years old"

I also like this one, although I feel like I'd tweak it a bit for it to work.

"[] never tells you but he loves you so" maybe jyl, as loving as she can act, she doesn't necessarily make it clear and in times of doubt jc needs this clarity.

"you said your mother only smiled on her tv show"

I'd make this about jfm honestly, how he only act like a father when he's in front of other people but is otherwise not like that. Maybe a tired yzy who doesn't smile as much anymore unless its to keep the image.

"you're only happy when your sorry head is filled with dope"

I was gonna change the ending, ut you know what? stressed out jc who need an outlet and hangs out with nhs would probably try it and keep doing it if it makes him feel better

"I hope you make it to the day you're 28 years old"

jc talking to himself. jc not believe he'll actually survive 'til he's 28 because unresolved mental health issues are fun 👍 (/s)

I basically changed the whole start of the song great jbdsuhvbsd//

but just imagine, jc and wwx growing up together and jc ends up falling for him, turning purple (and maybe where everything spirals down too). but with these changes, its makes wwx slowly turn around to find someone else whose blue

please don't analyse what my sleep-deprived brain comes up with, I just thought it could be an interesting idea if we take the colour thing literally.

(but if we work with the music video then maybe I can turn this into some ruocheng or rencheng!! I don't know much about what the fuck the song is supposed to be about and am going very surface level right now, let me imagine sad jc for once I too can have a turn to the table sometimes )

Original

[btscontentenjoyer]

If none of the previous parts had solidified how much these two love each other (which they have ofc) this one absolutely did. Honestly I read this a few days ago and it still makes me emotional thinking about it.

So first of all, the thought has crossed my mind a couple of times before about how they deal with things when Jungkook is away, especially in the earlier stages of their relationship, so to see that that was the catalist of this was so 😔 But also it totally makes sense too, because of course the only reason why they would ever talk about breaking up isn't because one of them intentionally hurt the other because they would never do that 🥺🥺🥺

"you inhale a deep, shaky breath in a fragile attempt of keeping your composure. you want to scream, rip apart this thick tension with your bare hands, and force him to admit that this is just some kind of sick joke. you finally see him in person after months and all he has for you is a gift bag filled to the brim with heartbreak. this is too casually cruel, not something you would’ve expected from your jungkook." The way it never once felt right during this whole part to see them apart or hurting because of the other 🥺🥺🥺 So I totally get OC here, they are just so made for each other to the point where it doesn't make sense for them not to be together.

"and here you are at present day: spending the cozy sunday night solving chemistry problems on your desk. you have a blue bandaid plastered on your face and a cheek full of fruit and honey. and you would say you’re fine, but jungkook wasn’t here to sweetly dote on you while treating your wound. he isn’t here to taste the honey from your lips with that coquettish smirk of his. he isn’t laying on your bed, fighting to stay awake because he wants to fall asleep with you as his pillow." 😭😭😭 again, it just doesn't feel right at all 😭😭😭

“i would never do that to you. just the thought alone fucking disgusts me… you’re the only one. you’ve ruined me for everybody else.” The last line!!!!! I wish there was a fist slamming a table emoji because that was me in my bed when I read this. How could he say this when he's trying to break up with OC 😭😭😭😭

"you release a shaky breath, patting his rosy cheeks dry with your sleeves. you smile at him kindly, and he watches you in sheer disbelief. he can’t fathom the perpetual luck he’s been blessed with that he met, who he believes to be, the purest soul to grace this corrupted world. they’re damp with your tears, so it’s practically useless, but the sweet gesture is a stray beam of sunlight in the midst of the dull gray clouds." OC is just the sweetest, most precious person in the world who deserves to never cry and always be smiling and laughing 🥺🥺🥺

"jungkook shakes his head wistfully, wiping away the tears that slid down his nose. he is dying to send you a text message, worried sick, and still used to hearing about your day the same way he is used to sleeping on his stomach." Something about that last line really got me. Even rereading it now has me going 🥺.

“you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, do you know that?” How could they ever leave each other's presence after saying things like this???? 😭😭😭

"our brain is a very complex friend… but you know, everything i’ve been through as myself and as a part of our team, hmmm, they taught me that there are times when a problem doesn’t necessarily need a solution per se. you just keep going until the fog clears up and then you move past it.” and ���this won’t last forever and time slips away from us without us even noticing. you should do what you want to do. if we’re going to deprive ourselves of good things, what will we have left after everything is over? money we can’t spend in one lifetime? there’s no happiness in that.” and “your motivation to work out after our shows is so you can stay awake and spend time with her. that’s why you fall asleep everywhere else. do you know how scary and endearing it is to watch that? is that what you call ‘not being committed enough’?” and "Eat lots and stay healthy! I’m feeding Jungkook well too. Don’t worry. — Yoongi" All of Yoongi's parts were honestly so amazing. You got his wise and comforting advice just right, Art 🥺🥺🥺

Also I loved Tae and Joon's cameos too! And now I'm curious what Tae's situation is too because 👀👀👀

"he wants to drink until he forgets that he has hands, until he forgets what it feels like to touch you." Painful and so so beautiful ugh.

“when we move houses again, i won’t have stories like these to bring with me. the new ghosts will be my memories with ___.” Literally every single part of this story broke me, I was on the verge of tears for so long 😭😭😭

"he presses his cheek to the bunny’s. “i accept. we do look alike, but my eyes are so much bigger.” He's literally so cute!!! The flashback had me smiling though my tears :')

"because if your relationship with jungkook is truly doomed to fail, you want to watch its foundation collapse on the ground, burnt down to gray and black ashes that disintegrate when you try to grasp them in your hands… with good grace, it’s the only way for you to believe that there’s no more home to come home to." Your beautiful writing makes everything even more heartbreaking, Art.

“i tried living without you like you wanted- but i can’t-” you hiccup in between small sobs on the other line. “i love you, jungkook. i can’t live carrying around all this love with me. it’s too heavy…” And this is where the tears that had been in my eyes the entire time actually started falling. The line about the love OC has for him being too heavy to carry hit me so incredibly hard 😭😭😭

“we need to move in together.” he grumbles to himself as he enters your unit, relocking the door behind him. he removes his sneakers, neatly setting them down beside your pairs of shoes by the doormat." I found this so cute!!! Just the fact that they're always imagining a future together even earlier in their relationship 🥺🥺🥺 That's also probably why they couldn't take not being together either 😭😭😭

Also the neighbour parts took me out lol, made me smile through the pain a little.

"he pads on the wooden floor with his white toe socks, looking around the dark and quiet living room." The toe socks!!!! You always always add the most adorable Jungkook details in your stories and it's the cutest thing in the world. It makes me smile every time I spot them.

“i’m upset.” you admit after a few beats, not seeing the point in sugarcoating it. “it hurts when i remember you saying that. and i understand you but… but i don’t like that you decided alone for us. if you do that again… then it will be over between us.” The open and honest communication was so great to see!!!

"you wish jungkook could be kinder to himself, treat himself with the same gentleness that comes so naturally with you. why is it that humans find loving themselves so laborious? why does being have to come with such a curse?" Art, your words speak to my soul so deeply 😭😭😭

“you don’t have to be strong all the time. i’m not asking for that.” you shake your head, voicing out yourself in a tone so soothing and illuminating. “i don’t want to go anywhere far away from you so think of yourself, too. i told you before, it’s okay to hold on to me. i’m also strong.” I love OC with my entire heart and soul 🥺🥺🥺

"he wants to grieve for all the wasted time because everyday, he craved for this. to be honest, he forgets his name when he’s kissing you. outside, the crowds scream his name for being the best at what he does best, and he happily lives for the euphoria of it all. but in this room, there is only you and him. you communicate using the unspoken language of love with your lips. you bare the soft animal in yourselves with your teeth sinking in the other’s skin. you allow your rawest desires and truths to unravel with a slip of the tongue. he exists beyond his name, becomes an indecipherable enigma even to himself. what is the use of an explanation if there is no meaning anyway? all he knows is that he loves you despite all the reasons, against all the reasons." I don't know if I've ever teared up from a make out scene before, but now I can say that I have. This was just so so incredible beautiful. The writing, the culmination of all of their emotions, the amount of love in all of it is just stunning.

"jumbled thoughts. a letter shoved at the back of the mailbox. a hesitant confession. a bittersweet reminder that says: a wound does not magically disappear overnight. it requires the proper treatment to heal correctly, and even then, it might still leave a scar." 🥺🥺🥺

Art, you are such an amazing writer. I'm kind of speechless at the end of this but I just want you to know that your words make me feel so deeply and I'm so thankful for them. This time I kind of just put all of my favourite lines with my not so coherent thoughts next to them because I just loved so many parts of this and they've all left such a big impact on me.

P. S. I just went through the in which masterlist to just read the titles because I love them and I actually started tearing up and getting emotional thinking of all of the beautiful moments we've seen of them 🥺🥺🥺

summary: in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much love left to give.

> idol!jungkook x f!reader / angst, fluff, suggestive / wc: 8k

> warnings: mention of infidelity (no one did u can breathe ily), mention of a classmate slipping their number in oc’s pocket and oc feeling unsafe, mention of puking, mentions & allusion to s/x, alcohol consumption, making out, boob!e fondle, grinding kinda? jungkook is hard™️ they’re so in love it’s sickening

playlist! and if/or when - ruel / hate everything - jungkook cover (gsoul) / hits different - taylor swift / statue - lil’ eddie / i wouldn’t ask you - clairo (i had to get in the zone & this is so oc-coded i need u to listen i’m so srs)

— in which masterlist!

note: this was a journey. happened back in 2019.!! i’m ripping off the bandaid <3 deep sigh writing this made me realize how my babies have come so far. hopefully will follow up with a fluffy fluff lowkey inspired by the underwear live soonest lols i’m excited for it 2 stay tuned 🫂

—

you forgot the walls of the apartment building you’re living in are thin. a small portion of the white paint has been chipped off, it looks like a birth mark, you note — except it’s not, and you’re the one who caused the irregularity.

your favorite glass is scattered across the kitchen floor, reduced to shards and to sparkling pieces almost as miniscule as dust. you don’t know what came over you. you don’t know why you threw it at the wall instead of filling it with cold water to only taking three sips like you usually do.

just when you thought you’ve been faring well in holding yourself together today, a fresh wave of sorrow overwhelms you. your knees buckle as you begin weeping, the loudest you’ve been since this nightmare has started. it swallows the knocking sounds at your door, but it’s still not loud enough to quell jungkook’s quivering voice playing like a broken record on loop inside your head.

“we should end this… i think it’s for the best, before we get drained.”

the rain is coming down fiercely and you’re freezing inside his car, parked outside your apartment. after all, his balenciaga windbreaker can only do so much against the blasted airconditioner. your throat is painfully dry, and your hands and face are numb from the piercing cold. but those are the least of your concerns because you feel like your head had just been dunked in ice water. the sting in your eyes are burning warmer as the seconds fly by and the muffled sounds of the torrential raindrops drum frantically in your ears. they’re clouding the car windows, mirroring jungkook’s tear-stained cheeks.

“i’m leaving again in three weeks. and i’m leaving again next year… and i’ll be gone again soon after that. i-i don’t know when i’m coming home, ___.” he pauses. the heel of palms press against his eyes, as if that could possibly barricade the saltwater leaking from them. “i never know where my life is taking me and you have your own… there’s too much-too much going on. i think that i’m just wasting your time, that this isn’t- it’s not going anywhere.”

“open the door! hello?! ___!”

“what do you want?!” you seeth in annoyance, swinging the door open to reveal your pesky neighbor.

he scratches the top of his head awkwardly at the sight of the mess that you greeted him with, having not bothered to pretend that you weren’t wailing your heart out.

”hey, i know you’re going through something…” his lips remain parted as he struggles to find the correct word, his right eye twitching voluntarily. “soul-crushing? right now. but i heard glass breaking and i was concerned that you, uhm, might’ve hurt yourself.”

the apparent nervousness and sincerity in his actions pull you out from the isolating disassociation you’ve imprisoned yourself in. you feel humiliated, presenting yourself in your most pitiful form infront of a kid two years younger than you. you envy him for having it together after storming out of his parents’ house while you-

“i’m not hurt. it was just an accident.”

you’re shamelessly lying infront of his face because the truth makes you feel too ashamed of yourself.

he only nods, smiling in relief. “i don’t know how to help make you feel better, so i just brought honey like i used to do before.”

you sigh, the familiar jar of honey and its red checkered lid waving at you like an old friend. has it been a year?

“bro, i told you i can’t accept this anymore.”

“you and your boyfriend already broke up. what’s the big deal?”

you have never wanted to smack someone more, the genuine confusion painted on his face feels like an infuriatingly harsh slap to yours.

“he wasn’t threatened by your honey, you dipshit. we just found out my blood sugar was getting a bit high!”

“oh- i’m so-”

you angrily slam the door shut. the silence you’re left with is suffocating, and you find yourself breaking down again.

he jumps in surprise when you open the door again, yelling- “and we’re not broken up!” before ripping away the jar of honey from his sweaty palms. he’s left completely flabbergasted, an inexplicable heaviness weighing on his chest when he hears your sniffling from the other side of the hard-wood.

“does that mean i can deliver again next week? i have too much in my kitchen…”

he doesn’t receive a snarky answer, surprisingly, so he continues talking.

“and f-y-i, your left cheek is bleeding! you might want to check on that!”

—

“you didn’t even give me any signs…”

you inhale a deep, shaky breath in a fragile attempt of keeping your composure. you want to scream, rip apart this thick tension with your bare hands, and force him to admit that this is just some kind of sick joke. you finally see him in person after months and all he has for you is a gift bag filled to the brim with heartbreak. this is too casually cruel, not something you would’ve expected from your jungkook.

“do you really mean that? or is there something else you’re not saying…? look at me.” you plead, weakly tugging at the hem of his long-sleeved shirt. the horrors of long-distance relationship stories claw their way out of your skin, adding fuel to the fire of your deepest fear. “you didn’t cheat on me, right? that can’t be it. we- we always-”

after you ended your last relationship, you cried at the parking lot of your university and continued living your life the next morning as if nothing happened at all. you did it all for yourself, anyway. he was gradually tearing down your confidence and your dignity; and you didn’t want to become a person the future you would despise for not being wiser, stronger.

and here you are at present day: spending the cozy sunday night solving chemistry problems on your desk. you have a blue bandaid plastered on your face and a cheek full of fruit and honey. and you would say you’re fine, but jungkook wasn’t here to sweetly dote on you while treating your wound. he isn’t here to taste the honey from your lips with that coquettish smirk of his. he isn’t laying on your bed, fighting to stay awake because he wants to fall asleep with you as his pillow.

no matter how hard you try to shut out this thought, it keeps knocking on the door. he’s going to be doing these sweet nothings for a different person when he finally reaches a more stable place in his life. you want to kneel on the ground, beg the heavens to meddle with destiny and never let you hear about it.

because that means he will never set foot in your apartment again, and the personal belongings you left in his room will be thrown out to erase the traces you left behind.

so this is how it begins.

the ugliest parts of you are swimming to the surface, tying themselves around your ankles because jungkook took away the ground from beneath your feet after unearthing your soul and… nothing makes sense to you anymore. if you wake up every morning to tend to your garden, and you look outside the window to learn that the sun has stopped burning, what do you have left?

your lips inevitably curve into a frown, but you inhale a sharp breath, patting your eyes dry before they can smudge the black ink on your notepad. and then you dip a strawberry in honey for the third time.

—

“no, baby, no- that’s not it.”

the dread and insecurity weaved into the cracks of your voice fill him with nausea and panic. he captures your frigid hand with haste, firmly holding it to his pounding chest.

“i would never do that to you. just the thought alone fucking disgusts me… you’re the only one. you’ve ruined me for everybody else.”

“then why are you giving up on me? am i becoming a burden?”

jungkook feels painfully numb, mind floating as the buildings outside the window get left behind him as a mere, passing blur.

“yah, jungkook-ah. are you crying?”

a torturous moment of silence passes as he struggles to find his voice. his tongue is tied, and his lost eyes are betraying the nights he spent practicing how to explain himself to you. back then, the reasoning he curated made sense. but faced with the consequences of his actions, the love of his life’s brain running a thousand miles per hour, recording a tale of woe and heartache on his passenger seat — he has never felt this much loathing for himself and his weaknesses.

you release a shaky breath, patting his rosy cheeks dry with your sleeves. you smile at him kindly, and he watches you in sheer disbelief. he can’t fathom the perpetual luck he’s been blessed with that he met, who he believes to be, the purest soul to grace this corrupted world. they’re damp with your tears, so it’s practically useless, but the sweet gesture is a stray beam of sunlight in the midst of the dull gray clouds.

the comforting rubs on his shoulder extracts him from his torturous thoughts, and only then does he feel the wetness on his face.

“you’ve been holding it back for the past week. just cry it out.”

he nods wordlessly, hiding himself in the fleece blanket from his lap. yoongi can feel a lump forming in his throat as he witnesses his youngest brother breaking down, jungkook’s pain also being his pain. as a group who’s been living together for the past decade, no one will be able to empathize with them as well each other. especially during times like this.

“___ hasn’t called?”

jungkook shakes his head wistfully, wiping away the tears that slid down his nose. he is dying to send you a text message, worried sick, and still used to hearing about your day the same way he is used to sleeping on his stomach.

“hyung,” the sound of the word borders on a sob. “it’s over. this is killing me… it’s all my fault.”

“but isn’t that what you wanted?”

“exactly. so why am i crying?” his hands ball into closed fists. “i’m an asshole.”

“enough of that!” yoongi loudly whines out his scolding. ”we all know you had your reason.”

“but, hyung, i fucked up!” he tenses up, blurting out the acknowledgement that’s been haunting him day and night. “she told me the most romantic thing and i felt so… fuck, i’m so angry at myself. i ruined everything. and i’m scared that i’d end up making things worse if i try fixing it.”

“stop beating yourself up. we can’t solve things this way.” yoongi grabs a bottle of water from the cupholder between them, twisting the cap open before handing it to jungkook. “drink first.”

once he starts drinking, he realizes that his throat has been awfully dry and sore. it’s most probably best for him to rest his voice. he can already foresee the concert rehearsal being absolute hell tomorrow. if he can’t sing, he doesn’t know how else he’s supposed to keep himself sane.

“talk to me. what did she say?”

“you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, do you know that?”

and with that revelation, he loses the warmth of your touch, and he comes crashing down like a wingless aircraft.

“i also need time to think about it. that’s only fair, right? that i get to decide, too…?” you swallow thickly, lips parting as if the words are resisting to come out of your mouth.

he looks at you with an emotion you can’t name, a push and pull between longing and trepidation.

if this was a movie, he would brave the rain and somehow perfectly deliver a poetically romantic speech that would sway your heart. if this was a movie, you would take a warm bath together, make out in the bathtub, and make love on your bed. if this was a movie, the day would end with the two of you tangled up, peacefully asleep and rhythmic breathing in sync. but he knows you. apparently not as well as he thought, but to some extent, he knows you. if he pulls you closer in the heat of the moment, you would feel suffocated and defensive and you would push him away; and he would lose you for good. that much he knows. so he lets you leave and he stays in the car— heartbroken, crestfallen, and regretful, because he might’ve just recklessly thrown away the best gift the universe has ever given him.

“i was thinking about how she never would’ve made this much sacrifices and efforts for anyone else and i feel like… i- it’s all going to waste because our future is uncertain. i can’t be committed to her as much as she is committed to me. and, and i felt like the guilt was eating away at me, you know? i wasn’t thinking straight.” jungkook chews on his bottom lip, a last ditch effort to prevent himself from sobbing. “it just… consumed me? like i was drowning… and all i could smell and taste was the saltwater.”

“i see,” yoongi sighs, crossing his legs and intertwining his fingers infront of his stomach as he finds the right words to say. “that’s a normal response. our brain is a very complex friend… but you know, everything i’ve been through as myself and as a part of our team, hmmm, they taught me that there are times when a problem doesn’t necessarily need a solution per se. you just keep going until the fog clears up and then you move past it.”

fuck, jungkook needs a glass of whiskey. or two. or twelve. he listens intently despite seeming like he’s spacing out.

“this won’t last forever and time slips away from us without us even noticing. you should do what you want to do. if we’re going to deprive ourselves of good things, what will we have left after everything is over? money we can’t spend in one lifetime? there’s no happiness in that.”

yoongi frowns, wishing he could do more to alleviate the weight hanging on jungkook’s shoulders.

“you deserve love outside all the noise, too. focus on the present which you can still control and deal with the future when it arrives. if you do otherwise, you’ll just be tormenting yourself… and i know it’s easier said than done but! do you want to hear something i’ve had on my mind lately?”

with a flushed face and swollen eyes, he tilts his head to curiously spy on his hyung.

“what is it?”

“your motivation to work out after our shows is so you can stay awake and spend time with her. that’s why you fall asleep everywhere else. do you know how scary and endearing it is to watch that? is that what you call ‘not being committed enough’?”

yoongi fails to hide his gummy smile, body vibrating with silent laughter as pictures of jungkook falling asleep standing up flash before his eyes.

“seriously, you punk! you scare me! i just pass out and die straight after while you- really, you’re really unbelievable. i envy you. for being able to love with everything you have until they break your heart. i mean it!”

“but i’m the one who broke their heart this time.” jungkook somberly utters in defeat, bottom lip jutting out and chin quivering.

yoongi encouragingly pats his shoulder, shaking his body lightly. ”you can make it up to her. she’ll reach out before we leave. have some more patience.”

jungkook’s eyes turn into slits, suspiciously squinting at the man sitting beside him. “why do you sound so sure?”

“because she loves you. why else?”

—

you automatically pause from eating cup ramyeon when your phone lights up on top of the journals you’ve been reviewing for the past hour.

“ah, shit! shit!”

you abruptly cover your mouth with your hand, exhausted eyes watering because you accidentally bit your tongue after reading the name of the sender of your newest text notification. you take sips of cold water, peering at your phone as you do so. your hands itch to type out a response, but the screen dies and turns black, another of yoongi’s messages in the same pile of unanswered ones from your friends checking up on you tonight. you can’t talk to anyone right now; you need to get shit done.

after eating your dinner at the convenience store, you come home to a plastic of fried chicken hanging on the doorknob of your front door.

Eat lots and stay healthy! I’m feeding Jungkook well too. Don’t worry. — Yoongi

you peel off the blue handwritten note, sticking it on the cover of one of your books. you carefully carry the food using your free hand, and you can feel it radiating on your skin, the heat of a freshly-cooked meal. you were always worried of being a bother when you occasionally ask him how jungkook is doing, but this made your heart significantly lighter. gaining a good friend after losing your lover, perhaps life can show a smidge of mercy when it wants to.

too bad you’ve always been one to be greedy.

—

“ah, seriously. why did you have to break up with ___?”

“we’ve been through this a million times!” jungkook exclaims in exasperation as he fiddles with the controller, bumping his knee with taehyung’s. “focus. you’re supposed to be helping me forget.”

“i don’t remember agreeing to that.” taehyung responds with a shrug, smirking when he picks up a booster and runs past his friend’s character. “you finally found someone who could put up with you and you let them go? i won’t let you forget.”

jungkook scoffs, eyes rolling upwards. “bro, i should be the least of your problems.”

“nuh-uh.” taehyung tuts with a grin, belly aching with laughter when jungkook’s car jumps over his to steal the lead. he didn’t even know that was possible. he plans on using the same trick against him later. “i’m making you my biggest problem so i don’t have to deal with mine.”

“they’re not married yet. you still have a chance, you know?”

“yah!” he gapes at jungkook in shock, entirely forgetting about the game. “take that back!”

“don���t act like you haven’t thought of it!”

“yeah, but i don’t say it out loud. it sounds too wrong! i still have my morals left!” he cries out, stomping his feet on the floor.

jungkook lightly punches his arm, eyebrows pinched in confusion. “i meant you have a chance if they break up. i have morals too! what do you think of me?!”

“oh…” taehyung blinks. “you know who else have probably thought of that too, though?”

“who?” jungkook boredly questions as he scrolls through the game collection, contemplating about which one to play next.

“all the other people waiting in line for ___.”

the realization renders him motionless, stirring up the possessiveness coursing through his veins. for the love of god, he doesn’t want to be petty but that struck a nerve. he wants to storm out of the house and look for you, beg on his knees for you to take him back.

“aish, hyung, you’re driving me crazy! why would you tell me that? are we torturing each other?!”

“are you crying? yah, jungkook-ah.” taehyung watches his hunched figure with a guilty wince, hesitant hands rubbing the expanse of his back. “i’m sorry- i’m sorry… do you want a hug?”

jungkook stays quiet, head hanging low to hide his face crumpling with anguish. the loose but affectionate hug that he gets pulled into prompts him to fall apart, catharsis blossoming in his ribcage and turning his bones into jelly.

he hears obnoxiously loud sniffles, and he abandons taehyung’s shoulder to look at his face. “are you crying, too?”

“stop ruining the moment.” taehyung groans, forcefully pushing down his head again.

namjoon comes out from his bedroom in search for another extension cord, still sipping on the half-empty iced americano he took from the fridge only ten minutes ago. the heartfelt scene on the couch causes him to halt on his tracks. how did they go from playing games to crying together? he silently observes the two members for a moment before deciding to approach them.

“what am i going to do with the two of you?” he grunts, ruffling his hair in frustration. “shall we go out for drinks to disinfect your wounded hearts?”

the mention of alcohol makes them perk up, jungkook’s tearful doe eyes sparkling at the prospect of temporarily erasing the pain that has uncontrollably spread throughout his system. he wants to drink until he forgets that he has hands, until he forgets what it feels like to touch you.

“thanks, monie-hyung. i’ll have my appetizer.”

and the iced americano gets snatched away from namjoon’s unsuspecting hand within the blink of an eye.

—

“this is not a barbecue restaurant.” you stare blankly at the orange neon lights spelling out the name of the night club your friends secretly conspired to bring you to.

“___, loosen up! the fastest way to move on is to find someone else. this is the best place for that.” aera turns around from the passenger seat of the taxi, her red lips painting a thrilled smile. “just forget about jungkook. we all knew this shit was going to happen. i’m surprised you even lasted that long!”

“i don’t know what you’re trying to imply but i don’t appreciate your tone.” you warn her with a sharp, threatening look. “and the ‘someone else’ that i found at a bar before turned out to be biggest fucking jerk i’ve ever met. i’m not doing this again.”

“things might be different this ti-” mi-ran aids in persuading you, but it only adds fuel to the fire.

“oh my god! fuck off!” you yell in irritation, aggressively getting off the car and slamming the door shut on their faces.

you never look back, ignoring the shouts of your name and half-assed apologies. you don’t have the slightest idea about where you’re going — your feet have a mind of their own and they chose to go the opposite way of home. this isn’t how you envisioned your night. you just wanted to listen to the sound of the meat grill and complain about life giving you a taste of true love just to cut your tongue with it until you bled. was that too much to ask?

you’re about ninety percent certain that you just lost two of whom you treated to be your closest friends. you think of ah-young, and you briefly consider crashing at your best friend’s band practice, but you’re too exhausted to travel to the other end of the city.

with eleven seconds left in the timer, you cross the street with swift and long strides alongside a crowd consisting mostly of employees wearing the same navy blue uniform. at last, you’re among the bright and lively restaurants, the inviting smell of good food making your stomach sting with hunger.

it’s only taehyung who recognizes you when you unknowingly pass by, almost choking on his glass of somaek, the combination of soju and beer. with his career on the line, he is confident that he can recognize that balenciaga windbreaker anywhere and anytime. meanwhile, instead of talking about you, the youngest is drunkenly reminiscing about the alleged ghost encounters he had in their old dorms. their leader is tragically left to tend to the grill alone. he deeply regrets not dragging any of the older members with them.

“everyone, i think i just saw __-”

a grimace of cluelessness is plastered on taehyung’s face when jungkook claps once, enthusiastically pointing at him as if he just announced something inspiring and life-changing.

“you’re right, you’re right! that’s it! what i’m kind of trying to say here is…” he pauses, facial muscles relaxing into a gloomy expression. he sniffles and rubs his nose, making it a brighter shade of red. “when we move houses again, i won’t have stories like these to bring with me. the new ghosts will be my memories with ___.”

none of the other two dares to speak after that, the oddly satisfying sound of meat being grilled and the chattering from other tables occupy the uneasy and heavy silence. instead, they begin filling their own shot glasses with pure soju. namjoon is the first one to spill it down his throat, slamming it on the table before dishing out his phone from his pocket. by this time, all of them are already drunk, double vision blurry and speech a little slurred. they gave up on counting the green bottles and cans of beer a long while ago.

“shit, that was a good metaphor. i need to write that down.”

“namjoon-hyung, he’s crying again!”

jungkook’s head slumps on the table with a thud, hot tears escaping down to his temple as he laments. “i miss her so much. why did i have to break up with her the second we got home? why…? am i so impulsive? what do i do if… if she agrees that we- h-how am i supposed to live with myself after that…? i’m never going to love again.”

they shuffle apprehensively on their seats, but still, they tell jungkook what he needs to hear since he won’t remember tonight’s events, anyway.

that’s not going happen. she just needs some more time. i’m sure she’s missing you too. everything will be okay.

but it’s been almost two weeks of radio silence. their flight is in nine days, drawing nearer and nearer as if it’s purposely taunting jungkook. everyone is thinking the same thing, and everyone is afraid to say it out loud.

—

it’s 7am when his work alarm goes off. with a disgruntled noise, a hungover jungkook drowsily drags himself out of bed, eyes still closed as he swings the bedroom door open.

“oing?” he creates a noise of confusion when his arm bumps against an object. he blinks at the brown paper bag hanging on his doorknob, removing one of the handles to peek at its contents.

he buffers for a moment, staring blankly at his belongings safely tucked inside. there’s his black mini bluetooth speaker, tinted lipbalm, wired earphones, bucket hat, facial cleanser, moisturizer, and shampoo. these are everything he left on top of your study desk and in your bathroom. neatly folded on the side is his windbreaker, which he recalls as clear as daylight, how you reveled in its comfort the last time that you were together. the fabric softener you use has replaced his perfume, the cherry scent forming a rain cloud of nostalgia and longing above his head.

if this is a nightmare, he is begging for somebody, anybody, to break into the room and to bring him someplace where hope is not desolate.

his wounded heart, as his namjoon-hyung described, is experiencing an excruciating pain he never even imagined was possible. he now understands, why the broken heart syndrome is a real thing.

he can’t read you. is this your way of ‘reaching out’? have you kicked him out of your house, out of your life? for good?

the dread of losing you forever is gnawing at his insides. nausea almost succeeds in knocking him off his feet. his brain hisses with static. he panics at the disgustingly familiar sensation brewing in his digestive system, sprinting to the bathroom to spill out his guts.

they say that you don’t realize what you have until you lose it. that early morning, jungkook realizes that he’s only a human being after all.

—

“when did i put that there?”

you’re sorting out your dirty laundry after showering when you notice a tissue paper tucked in the front pocket of your denim jeans. you huff out a sigh, ripping it apart into tiny pieces over the trash bin with raging vexation. you will never understand how men thinks that these kind of stupid tricks are supposed to compel you into seeing them anywhere near attractive and desirable in your eyes. if anything, they make you feel unsafe and if your paths cross again, you will run the other way. great. another person in the lecture room to avoid. just fucking great.

at this point, you want to mockingly laugh at your own misery. just when you thought your day couldn’t possibly get worse, it fucking does.

you tuck yourself in bed by midnight, texting a friend about your joint presentation next week, and then rereading your conversation with namjoon from this morning for the nth time. you’ve been hoping it will shine light on the right path to take, because you’re still lost and hurt.

Namjoon:

he’s been devastated since

can’t this be sorted out?

stuff’s just been overwhelming and honestly i’m as anxious as him

i'm not trying to force you into getting back together with him ofc but please talk for closure atleast..

you’re also my friend. i think you need it too..

you scroll a bit further down afterwards, and your heart drops to your stomach when you see the three dots under the contact name ‘my jungkook’. you click on it as it beckons you to, only to allow time to flow like a river with no sea to kiss, idly watching the bubble appear and disappear, appear and disappear. almost everyday, you catch a glimpse of him at the very least, typing a message and never sending it.

the same goes for tonight, it seems.

his silence is torturing you. in the car, in your inbox, in your call history. a person knocks on the door and a part of you foolishly predicts that it’s jungkook not using his copy of the key out of respect.

you succumb to the yearning, heading to your shared media and files that you’ve been actively resisting for more than two weeks… for this exact reason.

you randomly click a video sent by jungkook three months ago.

“i know you’re in class but i’m too excited to show what i got you today!” he beams at the front camera, bunny teeth cutely showing. he picks up the first item from the hotel bed with his free hand. “you already own this book but this one got a different cover, see? it’s hardback? they say it’s a limited edition.”

he eyes it fleetingly, obvious that there is something else he is dying to mention.

“i won’t show it too close. you can look at it when i go home. there’s a little surprise inside.”

he scrunches his nose before teasingly sticking his tongue out.

“and then here we haaave-”

following that, he shows you an adorable fluffy white bunny with red eyes. it occupies more than half the screen, and without a doubt, it is soft and huggable.

“cooky’s new sibling! we found it at a gift shop and hobi-hyung said it looks like me.”

he presses his cheek to the bunny’s. “i accept. we do look alike, but my eyes are so much bigger.”

in the upcoming seconds, the video is muted except for his breathing. he plops down on the bed while ruffling his dark hair, staring at the camera wordlessly, evocative of when you catch him dreamily watching you study while you’re on a videocall.

“i miss you.” he smiles sadly, deep dimples appearing on his cheeks. “don’t forget to text me when you’re on your way home.”

he drops on his back, the firm mattress breaking his fall.

“mmmwah!“ he kisses the camera, and your screen freezes on the final frame.

the silence in the aftermath is defeaning. you tear your glasses off your face, burying your face in the pillows. you arrive at your final decision then and there. you don’t care. you don’t care. you don’t care anymore. you cannot bear to spend more of your days like this. his things that used to live here might be gone, but you look for him everywhere. you look for his car in the parking lot. you look for his hair when you see flowers. you wait for his name to be called in the coffee shop. on your way home, you linger at the playground where you used to usually meet.

because if your relationship with jungkook is truly doomed to fail, you want to watch its foundation collapse on the ground, burnt down to gray and black ashes that disintegrate when you try to grasp them in your hands… with good grace, it’s the only way for you to believe that there’s no more home to come home to.

with a trembling hand, you press the call button and for the very first time, you beg someone to stay.

—

jungkook’s breathing ceases, heartbeat violently racing in his chest. the ‘chimes’ ringtone tickle his ears, his phone vibrating incessantly in his hands. the two features he specifically customized in your contact settings so he will immediately recognize that it’s you who’s calling.

it’s been four days since you dropped off his things. and here he was, laying on his bed and struggling to find the right words to say because he refuses to believe that this is how it ends. the paper bag is still hanging on the doorknob. he hasn’t touched it since the first time. he doesn’t have the courage to do so.

fuck giving you space. he wants drown himself in you and never come up for air. he’s more than willing to suffer your anger or your coldness. he’s prepared to prove himself worthy of a second chance every second of every day. he wants to occupy half of your desk and half of your closet again. he selfishly wishes to be the first and the last person you fall in love with.

but until the very end, you’re the braver one.

“love?” your voice is quiet, barely audible, but it’s there, and he hears the affectionate term of endearment distinctly. “i’m sorry. i tried, i really did, but i couldn’t do it…”

“baby,” he falters breathlessly, half of him in disbelief, convinced that he has officially lost his goddamn mind and delusion is bleeding into reality.

“i tried living without you like you wanted- but i can’t-” you hiccup in between small sobs on the other line. “i love you, jungkook. i can’t live carrying around all this love with me. it’s too heavy…”

exploding and breaking apart, jungkook’s heart is a meteor that has entered the planet’s atmosphere, and he doesn’t know where to begin digging for the fragments so he can piece himself together again.

“we are too young and we don’t know what the fuck we’re doing and i love you too much. you don’t have to protect me… i’ll take my fair share of the responsibility, so just-” he hangs on your every word, and then you pause, your following words eliciting a powerful punch to his gut. “just let me love you and let me learn my lesson the hard way… let’s do that, okay?”

the walls of him room ebbs and flows in like the sea. he rests his forearm over his eyes, his skin gradually dampening with tears. he once promised himself that he would never put you in this position. he should be the one begging for forgiveness, repenting and crawling on his knees. but rather than wasting his time with surfing through another tsunami of self-blame, he reminds himself: i want to be a better man.

“okay, baby. let’s do that, hmm? let’s do that. it’s what i want too.” he coos softly with a hoarse voice. “are you at your apartment?”

you hum in confirmation, sniffling. “come home.”

—

a half-naked jungkook abruptly opens the door to yoongi’s room, wearing gray sweatpants with his left arm awkwardly inserted in one of the black t-shirt’s armhole.

“hyung! can i borrow your car? mine’s getting a check-up.”

yoongi tears his eyes away from the computer, hanging the black headphones on the nape of his neck. he merely shrugs before throwing the car key, and jungkook catches it in one hand with ease.

he sighs in relief, politely bowing his upper body to express his gratitude. “thank you, hyung.”

“what are you doing?!” yoongi half-smiles with fondness, jokingly waving him off. “just go- go. leave!”

—

jungkook nervously stands before your front door, head woozy with anticipation and fear. what if things have changed? what if your relationship never goes back to the way it was?

“oh. you’re back together?”

he whips his head back to find your neighbor arriving home from his part-time job. huh, he just realized that he has never really learned what his name is. the only information he has on him is that his sister owns a bee farm.

“how did you even know?” he asks with knitted eyebrows. “you haven’t been giving out honey again, have you?”

“she only accepted it once.” the stranger puts his arms up in surrender with a roll of his eyes. “and don’t make her cry again, will you? she blasts sad songs late at night.”

and with an unpleasantly forceful shut of the door, jungkook is left alone in the hallway. his jaw clenches as he glares at the next apartment, but he rubs his face to release his frustration before he goes to meet you.

“we need to move in together.” he grumbles to himself as he enters your unit, relocking the door behind him. he removes his sneakers, neatly setting them down beside your pairs of shoes by the doormat.

he pads on the wooden floor with his white toe socks, looking around the dark and quiet living room. a faint orange light is seeping under the gap between the floor and the bedroom door, which he recognizes to be your favorite mode on your multi-colored nightstand lamp. he cautiously cracks the door open, and he is instantly greeted by your curled up figure, peacefully sleeping.

it’s muscle memory when he hangs his backpack on the backrest of your study chair before anything else. he also brought the paper bag you sent, putting it down on the floor.

he squats down infront of you, lightly prying away the phone you’re hugging to your chest and placing the device on the bedside table. the light is shining over your skin, and there are a thousand of photos and videos organized into the most treasured folder in his gallery, but not a single one of them will ever do you justice.

god, he missed you so much. it hasn’t been two years, but the life he had before he met you feels like an extremely distant memory.

he sighs, talking in hopes that he appears in your dreams. “how do you do this? you make it impossible not to love you.”

he unconsciously frowns at the sight of your puffy eyes. never again. never again. never again. he chants inside his head. he plants a kiss on each of your eyelids, taking his time to bask in the feeling of your weight under his lips.

he climbs on the opposite side of the bed, tucking you underneath the blanket before securely holding you from behind with his thigh hanging over yours. the warmth of your body and the scent of your shampoo cures the headache that’s been bothering him the whole day. he drifts off to sleep soon after.

—

the feather-light brushes through the silky locks of his hair pulls him out of his slumber half an hour later. he can make out your silhouette through his half-open eyes, the little-mermaid-like scene feels too vivid for a dream.

“why didn’t you wake me up?” you whine, sulking with a pout.

“i’m sorry.” he answers quietly, sitting up to engulf you in a tight embrace as endless apologies tumble from his tongue. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i gave up. i’m sorry that i hurt you. i’m so sorry… are you angry at me?”

“i’m upset.” you admit after a few beats, not seeing the point in sugarcoating it. “it hurts when i remember you saying that. and i understand you but… but i don’t like that you decided alone for us. if you do that again… then it will be over between us.”

he has an arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand firmly holding the back of your head. it’s a little hard to breathe, but it’s so reassuring to feel that he doesn’t want to let you out of his embrace. because you hated it — hated how it felt like letting you go was so easy.

“i regret everything. i’m sorry.” he whispers, concealing his tears by nuzzling his face on your neck. “and you’re not a burden. that’s not true.”

he knows that you mean your every word, so he lifts up his head to gaze directly into your eyes, showing that he is as sincere and true to his.

“from now on, all i’ll think about is what i can do to make you happy and safe without compromising our relationship… i’ll do better. i’ll love you better. i promise that i’ll be stronger for us. i won’t make the same mistake twice.”

you wish jungkook could be kinder to himself, treat himself with the same gentleness that comes so naturally with you. why is it that humans find loving themselves so laborious? why does being have to come with such a curse?

taking glimpses at the past, you should’ve been reminding him of these affirmations everyday.

“you don’t have to be strong all the time. i’m not asking for that.” you shake your head, voicing out yourself in a tone so soothing and illuminating. “i don’t want to go anywhere far away from you so think of yourself, too. i told you before, it’s okay to hold on to me. i’m also strong.”

jungkook feels so safe at home. he doesn’t remember what he was so worried of anymore.

“and you know what? if you really see it that way, then i’m telling you now. i want to waste my time on you. you can’t stop me.” your threatening eyes widen in conviction, provoking a sheepish smile to tug at the corners of his lips. “i always get what i want.”

“and you want me?” he innocently points at himself.

“love you.”

“i love you.” he replies, nosing at your neck before leaving a chaste kiss on your skin. “so much.”

“then put yourself in my shoes.” you hum, combing his hair with your fingers, lightly tugging to initiate eye-contact. “i want to take care of you just like how you want to take care of me. i think we have something rare and beautiful…” you pause, self-conscious about coming across as too needy now that you’re face-to-face, but an epiphany shatters your apprehension with a bow and an arrow.

this is what he needed to hear from you that day.

“so stay with me.”

jungkook’s vision becomes unfocused. he’s speechless; the only sound in the room is the humming of the airconditioner, but it’s almost as if you can hear the gears of his brain working their hardest. the pain that glossed his enchanting doe eyes has been replaced with a devotion you’ve never seen expressed so passionately in them before.

“all the time i own is yours.” he declares, cupping your face, the pad of his thumb daintily stroking your cheek. “all of it. we can do anything you want to do. let me make it up to you.”

“anything?” your face lights up with joy and mischief, and the butterflies in jungkook’s stomach come alive. he wants to make it his life’s mission to make you smile everyday; and that, he will do. “then i want you to kiss me.”

the sultriness of your enticing voice makes him go haywire. it’s been too damn long. he has forgotten what it feels like to kiss you. he slowly inches closer, his lips brushing against your lips before he pulls you in deeper, a fervent display of his yearning and apologies. he swallows the needy moan that escapes you as he slowly lays you down on the mattress, stripping off his shirt and mindlessly tossing it somewhere when you impatiently tug at it with another whimper. you cage his face in your hands, bringing back his lips on yours as if he’s the air that you breathe.

he wants to grieve for all the wasted time because everyday, he craved for this. to be honest, he forgets his name when he’s kissing you. outside, the crowds scream his name for being the best at what he does best, and he happily lives for the euphoria of it all. but in this room, there is only you and him. you communicate using the unspoken language of love with your lips. you bare the soft animal in yourselves with your teeth sinking in the other’s skin. you allow your rawest desires and truths to unravel with a slip of the tongue. he exists beyond his name, becomes an indecipherable enigma even to himself. what is the use of an explanation if there is no meaning anyway? all he knows is that he loves you despite all the reasons, against all the reasons.

he sneaks under your shirt, fingertips teasingly exploring your skin as if he’s drawing a map. he feels you quiver when he finally reaches your chest, gently kneading the soft flesh in his palm. this makes you mewl in pleasure, arching your back as your hand unconsciously curls around his wrist, the cotton fabric separating the two of you. the action electrifies jungkook, makes him lose himself a little more, which he didn’t think was still possible.

“touch me, please- jungkook. need you-” you choke out a desperate whimper, nearly sobbing as you guide his hand between your thighs. you can’t bear to spend another second untouched; the last time you made love feels like an eternity ago. he slips past the waistband of your underwear, the only article of clothing you’re wearing below. but to your disappointment, he gently caresses your hip bone instead of dipping his long fingers into your wetness.

“shh, hold on, baby-” he forces himself to break away from the kiss, swollen and red lips glistening with spit. “baby, look at me. you didn’t drink, right? i don’t want to take advantage.”

you gape at him with your chest heaving up and down, dumbfounded. “how could you even think of that right now?”

his eyes widen in panic, worried that he might’ve offended you. “no, no, no-” his palms skim your thighs, guiding them to wrap around his slim waist. you gasp when he presses up on you and his hard length rubs on your folds, sending jolts of electricity up your spine. a gush of arousal dampens the thin material covering your center.

“i want you so fucking bad that it hurts.” he gingerly wipes away the tears that you didn’t even notice streamed down to your temples. you can’t remember the last time you cried before today, they must’ve gotten tired of asking for your permission. “but you were crying when you called, baby. i had to make sure.”

“oh, my boyfriend is such a gentleman.” you muse dreamily. pepper his face with delicate kisses, lips curving upward with an adoring smile. “look at him enjoying my kisses.”

you playfully squeeze his cheeks together, making his pillowy lips pucker.

“you really wanted to break up with me in this case, huh? you wanted to live without me and my kisses? no way.”

his eyelids flutter open, and he shakes his head as he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…” his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh. “going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”

“good. you better.” your high-pitched giggles bounce off the walls as his lips trail down to your neck, licking a bold stripe over your ticklish spots. “i don’t have the patience for it, but i’ll be your trusty assistant.”

it’s ridiculous, how even the sound of your laughter turns him on even more.

—

jungkook learned that you finished your exams yesterday, having spent majority of the past two weeks pulling all-nighters to prepare for them. you seem to be confident about the results, the way you talked about it without concern. he never once doubted that you’re resolute and persevering, but acing your exams in the middle of a breakup is beyond what he can digest. it must’ve been a grueling experience, he can only imagine.

he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and then your lips, before dragging the blanket higher over your naked figure, a thicker one he brought out from the cabinet. poor thing, you fell asleep on his lap while he was drying your hair, incoherently murmuring about how tired you are.

he walks to your study space, fixing the loosening towel wrapped around his waist. one by one, he pulls out the items from the paper bag, returning them to their old places on your desk. he toothily grins at the windbreaker, ecstatic due to his plan on wearing it at work today. he wants to give it back to you smelling like him again.

an index card lands on the ground when he unfolds it, making him peer down in curiosity.

“what’s this?” he mumbles, bending down to pick it up.

jumbled thoughts. a letter shoved at the back of the mailbox. a hesitant confession. a bittersweet reminder that says: a wound does not magically disappear overnight. it requires the proper treatment to heal correctly, and even then, it might still leave a scar.

These are only a few of many. Why is this the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? I’m usually the more logical one. Was it really so bad that we weren’t going anywhere?

and messily crossed out at the end,

I miss you.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[wing-ed-thing]

Treehouse (Shikamaru x Reader)

Word Count: 1,232

Tags/Warnings: Discussion of Death and Loss, Gender Neutral Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, War Casualties, Language, Description of Panic Attack, Mention of Minor Original Character

Notes: I almost cried writing this, it got a little real ngl

You curled up on the platform in the trees somewhere deep in the forest that surrounded Konohagakure. You didn’t know where else to go and took shelter underneath the roof of your old, childhood treehouse. Leaves littered the floor and the wood underneath you had been permanently stained by water. You didn’t think anyone still came by to maintain your old playspace. Papers and brushes still poked out of long forgotten drawers. A few fake kunai were still lodged in the cheap wooden dartboard by the window. Standing, your head barely cleared the top boards, undeniably larger than the last time you were there. And yet, as you sat sobbing in the corner, feeling the smallest you had ever felt.

A hyperaware part of you felt Shikamaru’s chakra signature as he landed on the patio just outside the wooden windowsill. Of course, out of all the people in the village, he would know where to find you. His vague shadow flickered across your closed eyelids, the sun rising at his back. You heard a dull thud, making you startle just the slightest bit.

“Fuck…” you heard him mutter, something that would have made you laugh in any other circumstance. The dead leaves rustled around him as Shikamaru took his spot next to you, his shoulder touching yours. You remained buried in your knees and arms wrapped around yourself. Shikamaru stared at the back of your head for a few moments before leaning back against the wooden wall, arms crossed. “Do you want to talk about it?” He crossed his arms over his chest, his uniform still on from the morning’s expedition just like you. You shook your head.

“I fucked up, Shika,” you hardly managed to croak out. Shikamaru let out a deep sigh that bubbled in his throat and simmered out through his nose.

“You didn’t.” Sympathy had never been a strong tool in his wheelhouse and he restrained a certain amount of hardness in his voice. But more than anyone, he understood. “I’m not just blowing smoke. I don’t want you to tear yourself up over this because you did the best that you could.” You continued to shake, stuttering your response as pure emotion flooded your brain.

“Shi-ka…” you stammered, trying to find your words as you raised your head towards him. But the moment you saw his concerned face, you broke down. Shikamaru caught your retreating limbs before you had an opportunity to close up on yourself again, positioning himself in the middle of your chaos as you began to scream and sob into his shoulder. He held you, nearly collapsed across him, with his hands at the back of your neck. “My b-best k-k-killed people!” Shikamaru took your shoulders gently in his hands, attempting to move you to look at you, but you refused to budge. He returned back to holding you.

“Hey, no, no, no that’s not true!” Shikamaru hushed you in a gentle voice. Your hands balled tighter in the mesh of his shirt, his skin now becoming dampened by your tears through the fabric. You looked like you were in so much pain and despite having experienced exactly what you were going through, Shikamaru had to admit that he didn’t have all the answers this time. He took a breath, attempting to gather himself. “No one could have seen it coming. You took charge as, as, uh, a leader and you did the best that any leader could in a horrible situation.” He wasn’t used to sounding so optimistic.

“You didn’t see them at the hospital. T-Tamaki just had a, a son一!”

“And Tamaki knew what he was getting into.” You cursed to yourself, breaking away from Shikamaru to wipe the tears and mucus away from your face. You sniffled to yourself, teetering between grief and frustration. Shikamaru gathered up your hands in his as he took a sharp breath in. “Hey, I want you to look at me,” he said, voice ever-commanding and you met his eyes with your puffy ones. “You know I don’t ever bullshit you, right?” Even if he didn’t have all the answers, he could look like he did for your sake. You shook your head, causing Shikamaru to raise an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“No, you don’t bullshit me,” you gulped, taking another sniff.

“That’s right, so I’m going to be real with you, okay?” He brushed against the back of your hands with his thumb. He caught your eye. “Okay?” You nodded.

“Okay.”

“You know why Lady Fifth chose you to lead this expedition?” A few more tears dribbled down your cheek and Shikamaru brushed them away.

“No, why?” you asked, voice as small as you felt.

“Because you’re a great leader.” You opened your mouth to speak, to retort him, but closed it at Shikamaru’s pointed stare. “You had a great plan and a great team to back you up. Usually一” He huffed. 一 “When a newbie runs a mission like this, there’s usually a lot of fuck ups.”

“Wow, thanks, Shika.” You cracked a smile and Shikamaru rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. He gave your palm a light squeeze and your squeezed back, tracing the veins in the back of his hand.

“But you didn’t have any. Fuck, if you would jsut let me finish my sentences…” The corners of his mouth turned upwards as he looked away. His bittersweet smile melted. “I know you. You did all that you could. You were up strategizing all night, I know you were. So I’m telling you, no shinobi, no matter how experienced, could predict an attack like that. This wasn’t anything that you could control. You did the best you could with what you were given.”

“So many good people lost their lives under my command…” you lamented, though quieter, more tears coming to sting away at your sinuses. Shikamaru gently bumped two fingers at the bottom of your chin and you looked back up at him and the sincerity in his irises.

“And those good people knew what line of work they signed up for. All of these things happen sometimes and you are not to blame for what you can’t control. And all those other people, who could have been lost that you saved, have you and your leadership to thank for their lives.” You bowed your head under the beams of the rising sun that fluttered in through the window. Birds chirped somewhere outside, signaling the beginning of the day.

“How did you find me here anyway?” you asked. A soft chuckle ripped from Shikamaru’s throat.

“I must’ve found you here every day when we were in the Academy… You’d fall out of this tree every goddamn day trying to一”

一“practicing my chakra control.”

一“practice your chakra control.”

You spoke in unison.

Quiet overtook the treehouse. The sun had fully risen in the sky, serving only as a reminder to how tired you were. The mission left you sleep deprived, the residual trauma only draining you of your little residual energy. Shikamaru followed your gaze to the clouds outside, remembering why he liked this place in his childhood.

“If and when you take another mission like this, somewhere down the line when you’re ready, you know I’ll be there for you. You’re a captain that the Leaf will be lucky to have.”

Another pause.

“Thank you, Shika.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

@brokennerdalert​

[joyfulhopelox]

"I've never cried over a broken dryer before"-"And you better not start now"

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (College!AU/ University!AU)

Genre: smut with a saltbae of fluff

Warnings: alcohol use, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, swearing, bit of dom! JK, biting

Summary: Upon entering the club you come across a familiar face. Turns out your laundry adventures were not over. Who knew that clean laundry could lead to dirty talk?

Word count: 6.5k

rating : 18+

A/N: Massive thank you to @bangtanhome for not only being my beta but also my support and making this whole thing a polished princess. Thank you Moon so much for taking the time to edit and thank you for listening to me whilst I complained about this. And most importantly massive thank you for giving me pointers. This is my first piece of nsfw writing and I was extremely unsure about putting it out there but you’ve literally been an angel and were patient with my unsure self whilst also making sure you made this readable <3 -I also would like to thank my soulmate and best friend for putting up with me and dying in the process of reading a fic about her bias. I will warn that i massively sleep deprived at this point but i wanted to get this out with the occasion of the Muster 2021 so here she is!

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

Fuck. You’d overslept. You weren’t panicking because you were going to be late; you were normally late anyway. But as soon as your eyes opened, you felt the grogginess that comes with sleeping a bit too much. Your body felt sluggish, joints throbbing and your mouth feeling like you've stuffed cotton balls in it. Feeling like you've been through a survival show, you know it'll take at least an hour for your body to wake up properly. However, you didn’t have time to let yourself slowly come to. You were already late. Any later than this and you may just as well stay home for the night- and go back to sleep. You reveled in the thought for a second, but no. Your friends were impatiently waiting for you to go out clubbing with them. And most importantly to lend them your car. You knew that only because they have called and messaged you incessantly for the past hour reminding you of it. You were thankful at least that you were not the designated driver for the night. Normally you’d draw straws and this time you had got lucky, you could drink as much as you wanted.

‘Good lord Y/N get your ass out of bed,’ you hyped yourself up and just like a bandaid, you ripped yourself from your covers and rolled out of bed. Landing with a thud you groaned upon impact. That was going to leave a bruise.

After a quick shower to get the cobwebs cleared off your mind, you put on a dress. You didn’t wear dresses normally, your wardrobe consisted mostly of pants and various tops. To be tightly encased in a dress that was a bit too short for comfort made you feel uncomfortable, but you knew that as soon as you had some alcohol into you, things would change. A loud knock at your door told you that your friends had finally arrived so you hurriedly grabbed your purse and keys and were out the door. You hesitated for a moment, the feeling of having forgotten something weighing on your mind. When you couldn’t figure out what it was, you decided that it must not be important. Plus, your friends were waiting; time to get the show on the road.

As soon as you entered the club, the heavy smell of smoke, sweat and alcohol hit your sensitive nose. The atmosphere was too loud and obnoxious for your sober brain. To remedy that, your friends decided to stop by the bar first and buy a round of shots to get the night started. With the burn of the alcohol running down your throat, your confidence levels increased. The dress didn’t make you feel uncomfortable anymore, instead you prowled around, your hips moving to the beat. You were aware of the lustful stares that you were receiving and you thrived off of it. Tonight you were on the hunt, ready to let loose after the stressful week full of exams.

“Hey, Y/N. Muscle at 12 o’clock has been giving you the look more than a couple of times,” your friend leaned in to make themselves heard over the loud music. “Try not to be obvious, but I'd say he’s a 10.” You nodded in acknowledgment running a finger over the rim of your glass.

“He’s looking away now, look look,” they nudged you, forcing you to turn around. In all honesty, you weren’t interested in going home with anyone. You were simply enjoying the admirative stares and the smouldering gazes that were thrown your way, but you had no intention to take any of them home with you. However, when you turned around, you were faced with the impossible task of reconsidering. The back of the man your friends' pointed out was indeed muscular, broad and strong, you could see the muscles popping underneath the black shirt he wore. The sleeves of the shirt were pushed up to his elbows, allowing a full display of tattoos on his right arm.

Normally you would have second thoughts about a person like that, but there was something about his demeanour that drew you in even without seeing his face.

The handsome man motioned to one of his friends and his whole body shook with laughter. Observing the way the shirt strained against his muscles you licked your lips involuntarily. For a second you thought he looked strangely familiar, and before you could convince yourself you were being paranoid, he turned his head to the side to entertain the person to his right.

The messy mop of hair, defined jawline and that bridge of the nose they all belonged to the laundry boy - Jungkook. You smirked, “I’d give it a 15 actually”. As soon as you said that, he threw you a glance, his smile wavered as he made eye contact. You felt satisfied at the recognition in his eyes.

You slowly turned back to your friends, certain he would come to you. It took him the entirety of the time you took to finish your drink to make his way towards you.

“Don’t look, he’s coming.”

“Oh, he will be,” you smirked, eyes twinkled with excitement as your friends laughed at your slurring words.

Jungkook had noticed your enticing figure entering the club from the very beginning. It was as if a magnet pulled him towards you. He recognised you as soon as he laid eyes on you. How could he not? The cute girl from the laundry room in the daylight turned into an alluring vixen during nighttime. His eyes were drawn to your hips, the curve of your back and the tempting strip of skin he could spy; they were enticing to him. He tried his best to focus on the way your eyes sparkled in delight when one of your friends would make a joke, but when you ran a finger over the rim of your glass tracing delicate patterns, he felt your siren pull.

You smelt him before you felt him, the subtle vanilla enveloping your senses overpowering the scent of sweat from around you. He stopped right behind you, with one hand on the stool next to you; not completely encasing your form, but close enough that you could see his jawline in your periphery. Leaning in under the guise of ordering a drink from the bartender he pulled the stool and sat down. He didn’t address you at first, patiently waiting for his drink, his long fingers tapping the counter in rhythm with the beat. You tried your hardest not to stare at his hands, the art on them fascinating to you: the doodle style art accentuating his knuckles and the veins running tracing all the way up to where his skin hid beneath his shirt. You tried to keep a poised front, talking to your friends as if he was not there, but you could feel the heat of his stares from time to time, goosebumps forming on your skin.

You knew your friends were getting drunker and drunker as time passed, but you’d underestimated them. Soon enough they each scattered around the surface of the club looking for a dance partner. Your friend left you in charge of the drinks they ordered, winking at you suggestively as they left. That meant you were alone. And judging by the way your skin prickled, Jungkook was still seated next to you.

“A gin and tonic, please,” he ordered another drink. You realised now would be the perfect time to not only talk to him, but also repay him for earlier. As the bartender presented him with the bill you turned around and smoothly presented your card to him. “Make it two on the same tab.” you smirk, winking at Jungkook when your eyes met his.

You heard Jungkook laugh at your brazen attitude and you had to admit to yourself, if not for the alcohol you’d had earlier, you would’ve probably walked away. You made direct eye contact with him and smiled.

“Nice to see you again, laundry boy,” you smirked. Jungkook looked taken aback for a second. The image of you in the laundry room is completely erased. What he saw in front of him now was an alluring woman, sure of herself and what she wanted. And she made it clear that she wanted him. Hiding a smirk behind his hand he leans closer to you, his breath fanning the hair stuck at the nape of your neck.

“It’s Jungkook, not 'laundry boy',” he yells over the music. Your shoulders shake with laughter.

“I know, but it is fun to tease you - Jungkook.” He smiled at you, his eyes crinkling in delight. He's caught onto what you were doing and he was ready for it, two could play at this game.

“What’s your name?” You were half expecting him to pull a bad pick up line, the earlier impression that you had of him still engraved into your mind. When he didn't, you smiled, hiding your satisfaction. Maybe he really was worth a 15 and not a 10.

“What, no ‘I didn’t catch it’? No ‘I bet it hurt’? I’m offended, do I not deserve a bad pick up line?” you grinned at him and he burst out laughing, the sound reverberating through you making a shiver run down your spine.

“You got the drinks, pretty girl, there’s no way I can use a pick up line now,” you started laughing earnestly. He was definitely not what you had expected. The muscly tattooed facade was clearly done just for the purpose of aesthetics, and not because he slotted right in with the rest of the douches.

“Fair play, but I did say I was going to pay you back earlier,” you gesture with your head as if to point out which earlier moment you meant.

“I see. This is how you intended to keep your word then” Jungkook said just as the bartender places the drinks in front of you both handing him something. “But as it happens, I am a step ahead of you” he waved a card in front of you. His satisfied smirk made you pause flustered. Realising he’s already given his card to the bartender earlier you blushed.

“That’s not fair, laundry boy” you pout. “Now I have to find another way to repay you” you fumbled with the card the bartender handed over to you struggling to place it back in your clutch.

“I am sure we can find other ways” you paused looking at him. Under normal circumstances you would have found that to be incredibly off putting, but noticing the way he scrutinised you so intensely, no hidden message behind his smoldering gaze you squeezed your thighs together a wave of heat enveloping you.

You took a sip of your drink to mask the deepening blush and cleared your throat. You knew that if you gave him your name you were in for the ride. “It’s Y/N” you took another sip, savouring the taste of the alcohol.

“What?” Jungkook wasn’t expecting you to hand him your name so freely.

“It’s Y/N” you yelled louder and leaned into him thinking he hadn’t heard you because of the music. The waft of your perfume clouds his senses, the smell of cotton and lilac enveloping him. Needing to be closer to you he chanced it and asked you for a dance.

You finished your drink with a gulp and nodded your head. You grabbed his wrist and started making your way through the mob of people. Jungkook couldn’t help but stare at the way your hips swayed to the beat and when you threw him an alluring look over your shoulder he couldn’t help but be lost. He felt like a puppy following your sultry form through the crowd.

You finally stopped in the middle of the dancefloor, your moves more accentuated following the beat of the music. Jungkook stopped a few inches away from you, unsure whether or not he should place his arms around you yet.

You stepped closer to his body, your movement predatory. “Come on laundry boy, you can do better than that. Think of this as part of the payment” you winked at him. You could see the shift in his eyes, a flash of something heavy across his face, his demeanour changing in an instant from uncertain to commanding in a second. He gripped your waist tightly and pulled you flush against him moving along with the beat.

For a second all you could feel and smell was him. His domineering attitude instantly turned you on with the silent promise behind it. “Oh, this is just the beginning” he moved his hands so that his arms encased your waist intending to savour the feeling of you against him. Fully intending to see where this night ended you hooked your fingers into his belt, your bodies so close together they melded into one.

“Bring it on lover boy.”

The oppressive atmosphere of the club was enough to cloud all your senses. The alcohol running through your veins made you braver than you would have ever been. The smirk Jungkook threw at you was almost tantalising. Inviting you to commit sin. And the thought of tasting his lips and running your hands through his hair whilst his breath fanned over your throat was mouth watering. You’d been skirting around each other for the whole night, laughing, drinking, talking, but most importantly eyeing each other up. The last straw for you was when a rogue drink came flying out of nowhere and drenched the two of you. The liquid mixed with his sweat and snaked its way from his temple down to his jaw. You watched as the drops ran lower and lower as if directing your gaze towards his chest. Swallowing thickly you knew that you were a goner. If he’s ask to fuck you right there on the dance floor, you would surrender instantly.

Smirking at your lust filled expression, Jungkook knew he had you where he wanted. He had been staring at your lips for the whole night, entranced at the way the plumpness was enhanced by the sheen from when you’d run the tip of your tongue over them. He was mesmerised. He could also imagine that tongue running over his- he tried to stop himself there, aware that he’d get hard if he kept going in that direction. He could already feel the strain against his pants.

“Another drink?” he offered, and you shook your head at him. Another drink was definitely not what you wanted. What you wanted was him, to kiss you until your lips were raw and to pound into you senselessly until you could hardly remember your name. Were you drunk enough for this? Probably not, but you did not care for once. You wanted to remember this.

Leaning closer to you with the excuse of the loud music, his breath fanned the nape of your neck and the sensitive shell of your ear, making you shiver. “Then what would you like, love?”

There it was, the thousand dollar question. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath in you looked him straight in the eyes with determination. It made Jungkook shiver. You looked fierce and incredibly alluring. It took all the strength he had in him to not shove you on top of the bar and kiss your brains out. “Tell me?” he coaxed you.

He knew what you wanted. You had been obvious for the whole night. But so had he. Throughout your conversation you were undressing each other with your eyes. You noticed the way he couldn’t keep his eyes away from your ass when you would lean over the bar to ask for one more round of drinks.

Under normal circumstances, that thought would have made you nervous. This time it gave you the courage you needed to let yourself go. To switch from being the player to the one played. And if he was the one doing that, you didn’t mind one bit. “I want you” you bit your lip and looked at him from under your eyelashes. His eyes darkened with lust. Mind clouded with desire, he grabbed your wrist tightly and without a word started making his way through the crowd. The roar of the drunken crowd, the smell of sweat and alcohol, and the feel of sticky bodies bumping into you didn’t matter anymore. All your focus was on the way his back muscles moved with every turn of his body. Suddenly a flash of the same back muscles, naked, moving as he towered over you and thrust his hips into yours made your stomach clench and you could feel your panties getting damp. God you wanted him so badly.

Jungkook could see your wistful lust-filled eyes becoming hazier and he sped up the pace. He finally stopped when he reached an empty corridor near the back exit. He would have liked to have more privacy than that, but something about making you beg for him in a public place made his cock twitch in anticipation. He really needed to get a hold of himself otherwise he’d be done before you’d even started.

He tugged at your wrist and lightly pushed you into the wall, he would have taken things a lot slower but your gaze told him to hurry up and take you then and there. And who was he to deny you?

His eyes raked over your body, and a sigh escaped his lips. “Beautiful”. Even though he craved to taste you, he took a moment to appreciate the way your eyes glistened with passion, your chest heaving along with your breaths and your perfume clouding his senses. He wondered if you tasted as sweet as you smelt.

A fistful of your hair in his hands, he pulled you flush against him, until all you could feel were the hard planes of his chest and his hardened member poking at your abdomen causing you to moan, your panties getting wetter.

You whimpered at the sensation as his fingers gripped the sensitive hairs at the back of your skull, goosebumps forming on your skin in anticipation. Expecting him to attack your mouth with the same hunger that was displayed in his eyes you leaned more into him.

You silently begged him to release the coil that had formed in your stomach but he wanted you to beg. His breath fanned the pieces of hair that fell onto your face. The last rebellious piece of you that refused to fall into his clutches. In a desperate attempt to get him to kiss you, touch you - do something, you grabbed tightly onto his biceps relishing in the feel of the muscle tensing underneath your fingers.

“You’re not playing fair laundry boy,” you huff, feeling frustrated over the lack of contact. His laugh, dark, deep and lascivious sent a shiver down your spine.

“Baby girl, that’s not my name” his free hand clasped onto your waist squeezing hard enough to send a jolt through the pit of your stomach all the way down to your heated core. “Jungkook” you whimper and in a last attempt you hook your leg around his thin waist.

“That’s it baby” he lowered the hand on your waist towards your thigh, his fingers leaving an indentation in the skin. Seizing the opening you started grinding your core onto his thigh trying to relieve the ache. His lips ghost over your neck in a tantalizing way, his tongue sweeping over the nape briefly tasting your saltiness. The sensation of his warm tongue on the exposed area of your neck followed by the coldness from the air makes you moan. You could smell his perfume, combined with the musky scent of his sweat and alcohol made your head swim in delight.

“Jungkook, please” , you exposed your neck to him needing more. Rolling your hips into his thigh you could feel the blood pumping underneath your skin, the pleasure overshadowing any rational thought. The friction between your clit and his pants left you breathless, the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter ready to unfurl. All of a sudden Jungkook stepped a few inches away, and you lost contact with his leg. Robbed of your release, you instantly whine.

“Mmmm, I can't have you cum on my leg, as much as I would like to see you ride it out on your own. I need to taste you.” he demanded. The hand still supporting your leg inched closer and closer to your dripping cunt. Slipping a cold hand under the hem of your dress his fingers made contact with your heated core causing you to jerk. You yelped, your hips bucking into his hand. Your hands latched tightly onto his shoulders, your fingers digging into them in an attempt to steady yourself. He cupped you through your panties, the heel of his palm pressing into you. Muffling a moan into his shoulder you begged him to touch you more, but he retracted it away from your tender flesh.

“Nuh-uh not yet.” The hand pinched your thigh and you tried not to cry at the feelings bubbling up inside you. You were frustrated and horny, and his taunts were enough to make you crave for more.

“Laundry boy” you warn, staring him dead in the eye.

“Y/N, what did I say about my name” he pulled at the hair he still gripped tightly in his hand. Cradling you close to him he bucks his knee into your core, this time freely offering the friction that you had been yearning for. You whined, the lewd sound echoing in his ear. Your clit on fire, you pressed yourself more into his knee.

“That’s it, moan for me with those pretty lips” gaining a bit of self control you decided it was time for you to step up your game.

“Do you not want to see what else these pretty lips can do?” you licked your lips, your heart racing. Your hooded eyes suggested more than Jungkook would have expected from you.

“Dirty girl” biting his lip before he crashed them onto yours, the contact making your lips smack and your teeth clash. Neither of you care as your tongues intertwine, carrying the battle that your hips are craving. The friction between you caused your whole body to heat up, your senses heightened. You could feel every bit of him against you. The way one hand gripped your thigh and the other pulled at the sensitive hairs at the nape of your neck, the way his tongue roughly caressed yours. He was intoxicating. In the heat of the moment he roughly pushed you into the wall behind you, the force causing you to moan into his mouth.

Jungkook was at the end of his wits, he had to have you now. He needed to taste you, see you unfurl in front of him as he eats you out. Breaking the kiss, your mouth sore, he observed the way your pants made your chest rise up and down, pushing your breasts into him.

Without a word, he attacked your mouth once again for a brief second before he trailed down your jaw to your neck, nipping the sensitive skin in the process. The hand on your thigh reached once more underneath the hem of your dress, this time making its way fully and cupping your dripping core. At the touch of his hand on your sensitive clit your knees buckled and you let your weight onto him, your forehead dropping onto his shoulder for support. You tried to suppress a moan.

“Let it all out baby” his mouth at the shell of your ear, the tip of his tongue trailing the delicate flesh there. “You’re so wet” he moans, “I can't wait to taste you.” His finger dipped under the band of your panties trailing over your center. “So soft” - he sucked your earlobe into his mouth and gave it a small bite - "so wet for me”

This time you couldn’t hold back your moan. The feel of his finger pressed into your folds, parting them and exposing your clit to his ministrations had you squirming. The tip of his finger started drumming in a rhythmic steady fashion on your engorged button. The feel of his lips caressing the sore earlobe relieving the sting from the bite is too much for you. “Jungkook please, I need..” your moans getting louder and louder as the pad of his finger presses harder in an unrelenting tempo.

The hand holding your neck slowly inched towards the swell of your breasts, picking the flesh there until it turned sore. His fingers still attached to your sensitive bud he suddenly drops on his knees in front of you. With his support now gone you try to grip uselessly at the wall behind you. He slots himself between your legs, forcing them to spread open. As he raised the hem of your dress and pushed your panties to the side you couldn’t help but look down. The sight of him between your legs glancing up at you made your knees buckle. With one hand tracing your folds and the other gripping your hip tightly to hold you in place he gives you an uncertain look. “Is this ok Y/N?” his concern for your approval makes your heart melt, but you were too high strung to think about that. You wanted him, and you wanted him now.

“Please” you moan in approval.

With your approval he dived right in, too hungry for your taste. Parting your folds with his fingers he starts by giving you a tentative lick. Being sensitive from his fingers you writhe, your hands desperately clutching at the wall behind you. Savouring the first taste of you he thrums with his finger at your clit. You arched your back, your hands giving up on trying to hold onto the wall. Instead they found their way into his hair, fingers gripping tightly.

Diving back in Jungkook starts lapping earnestly at your folds, his finger still applying pressure onto your sensitive nub. Bucking into his face you suppress a moan. The sensation of his wet tongue prodding at your entrance is too much to take and your knees buckle. Jungkook sensed the shift in your weight and quickly grabbed a hold of your leg, hoisting it over his shoulder. The hand attached to your clit now tightly gripped your calf. The change in position offered the extra support you needed to not fall over.

With your entrance now completely opened to him his tongue started rapidly tracing your folds, only stopping to suck on your clit.

“Jungkook” the overstimulation from his tongue lapping up your wetness and his teeth nipping at the sensitive cluster of nerves is too much to handle, you can feel yourself take over, and Jungkook is more than happy to let you go at your own pace. Grinding over his face, your hands still gripping at his hair, you ride his tongue at your own pace desperate to reach your climax.

You can feel it, you are so close to release you could almost taste it.

Suddenly he entered a finger, knuckle deep into you pumping in and out quickly. Letting your calf go but making sure he is still supporting your weight with his body he leaves you sensitive nub alone and traces kisses along your inner thigh, up to your navel. The dress now obscuring other parts of you he gets up, his finger still deep in you, drawing pleasurable mewls out of your mouth.

“That’s it baby girl, tell me what you need” he is panting in your ear now. With the taste of you still lingering on his tongue and the sight of you coming undone from his ministrations makes him harder than he’s ever been. He felt uncomfortable under the constraints of his pants, the zip digging painfully.

“I need you to fuck me” you finally moan, your hips grinding against him chasing for that sweet release.

“I need you to come for me first baby, I need to see your pretty face when you cum all over my fingers” swiftly he changes fingers, his thumb now drumming at your sensitive clit. You gasp as a finger teases your entrance for a brief second before it penetrates your pussy.

The loud sounds coming from the club were not enough to drown out the lewd sounds that your wet pussy was making whilst Jungkook’s finger pistoned into you. The shot fire along with the shameless sounds you were making were enough to make the tight coil in your belly unfurl. With a deep loud moan you bit Jungkook’s shoulder in an attempt to muffle the yell that was threatening to spill out of your lips. Your muscles clenching in tandem with your core. Jungkook felt your cunt clamping his fingers tightly and a low grunt escaped past his lips. He could almost imagine how wet and tight you would be around him.

“That’s it beautiful, let go”

Your hips carried on buckling, chasing the high and wishing it would not stop. Jungkook took his time observing how your head fell down and your mouth opened slightly in a silent satisfied scream, how your eyes scrunched up as if you were trying to cut off all your senses apart from the feeling of his fingers in you. You were beautiful. When at last your muscles relaxed and your high subsided a low sigh fell out of your lips. It has been a long time since someone has made you cum like that with just their fingers. Jungkook’s finger still lazily traced your clit, the overstimulation too much for you to handle.

“Jungkook '' you whined trying to back away from him but the tight grip on your waist wasn’t allowing you to move more than a few inches away. Without a word Jungkook pulled his hand out of your panties and let go of you. Your knees still weak from your climax you struggle to stand up right and you end up having to lean into him slightly for support. The sight of him licking his fingers coated in your juices sets you on fire once more.

“You’re beautiful when you cum Y/N.” Somehow, his words made you blush. The lewd act that you both partook in had failed to make you blush, instead what made you self conscious was the way he gazed at you. It was softer and more intense and it made your stomach clench once more. If not for the obscene act in the deserted corridor of a club, you might’ve actually entertained the idea that he cared.

You smiled shyly at him and in that moment he was swept away by the warmth expanding from his chest. You were indeed beautiful. And witty, and smart, and you liked to do your laundry. What more could he want? Cupping your face, he kissed you once more, slowly and with purpose. You gasped, you were not used to this gentle Jungkook. Taking the opportunity to pull you closer once more, his tongue mapped every inch of your mouth.

“Fuck me now please” you whisper against his lips. Your hand on his belt moved slowly over the bulge in his pants. He bucked into your touch at the feel of your fingers wrapping around him as much as you could with his pants still on.

“Y/N” he warns. If you carried on that way he would definitely come in his pants. Rubbing him slowly, you could feel his member harden even more under your touch.

“Is it uncomfortable babe?” you whisper in his ear. “How about I return the favour?” you unzip his pants prepared to lower yourself to the floor but he grabs your shoulders keeping you in place.

As much as he would have liked to feel those soft lips around him, he knew that if anyone were to bump into you two, it would not be good. The club was full of students going to the same university as you. If they were to find you on your knees blowing him it would instantly kill your reputation. He did not want that to happen.

“Not here” he zips his pants back up and grabs your hand gently. After all that had transpired between you this soft almost domestic treatment is not what you were expecting. Once again the warm feeling in your heart returned, and this time you were a bit more sober. He was cute, and somehow you found his duality endearing. He returned to being laundry boy Jungkook instead of the dominant Jungkook you’ve just witnessed.

You walked through the club, his hand still gripping you tightly as if he was afraid he’ll lose you in the crowd. Once you reached the outside you took a deep breath in relishing in the way the fresh air soothed your heated skin. Glancing up at Jungkook you noticed he was on his phone texting someone.

“I am texting my friends to let them know I have left,” he explained, putting his phone back in his pocket, smiling at you. The contrast of his lust-filled gaze from before and his gleeful smile almost gave you a whiplash. He was such a contradiction that you couldn’t help but be intrigued by him.

“And I ordered an Uber” as soon as he’d said that a car pulled over right in front of you. The ride back to the campus was a quiet one. It wasn’t an uncomfortable quietness though, having chatted about anything and everything in the club you were content to just put your thoughts in order. You noticed that he had not let go of your hand once during that time but with his gaze out the window, his face thoughtful you could not bear to say anything. Plus, you were enjoying the feel of his smooth hands holding yours.

As the car pulled up in front of the dorm you both shared a glance, an understanding passing in between the two of you.

Once inside the fire inside you sparked up again. Grabbing at each other, your mouths hungrily clashing, you stumbled all the way to the elevator. It was late enough that no one would see you two messily making your way to your room. As soon as you entered the lift and separated to press the correct button you finally remembered what you’d forgotten. If you were a bit more sober you would have laughed at the hilarity of the situation.

Your face fell. “The laundry” you whined in distress. Jungkook’s mouth fell. He threw you a panicked look thinking that you’d changed your mind. One glance at you was enough to tell him that you were panicking in earnest.

“What happened to the laundry?” his hand hovering over the lift buttons unsure of what to do.

“I forgot to put the laundry in the dryer!” you looked at him with such drunken despair he had to hold his laughter in. He did not want to offend you by laughing in your face. You were sober enough to not slur your words, but clearly not sober enough to process your own feelings.

“Let's get that done then.” He decided that as much as he liked your witty self, as well as you in the throes of passion, he adored this side of you too; your guard down, emotions on display. It made his heart swell thinking that you were entrusting him with your vulnerabilities.

You rushed ahead of him entering the laundry room, not paying attention to anything but the lone machine still loaded with your clothes. You quickly opened it, the smell of clean cotton wafting around you.

“Let me help.” Jungkook grabbed the pile of clothes you were holding and moved them into the dryer next to him. As soon as everything was loaded in you turned to smile at him. The panic in your eyes now replaced by the same hunger that governed your mind earlier, you grab him forcefully, clashing your mouth against his. Your hips slammed together in an attempt to ride the pleasure from before. Jungkook, not having expected you to be so forceful, moaned into your mouth and instantly hardened against your hip bone. The quiet of the laundry room was filled with the sounds of your pants as you continued to kiss. In the heat of the moment, Jungkook places his hands on your ass, hoisting you up on the laundry machine behind you. The position allowed your hips to align perfectly, the pressure of his dick now directly onto your clit. Before you could go further Jungkook stopped and looked at you.

“You need to start the dryer,” with the last of his restraints he motioned to the still machine. You glare at him, this being the second time he cockblocks you and himself. But his gaze was unwavering. You sighed and leaned away from him, reaching for the top of the dryer as well as you could still atop of the laundry machine. “Whatever you say laundry boy.”

After pressing down on the start button, you’re quick to return to kissing him. But the quietness of the room seemed odd to you. The dryer had not started. Confused, you look at it again, certain that you pressed the right button. Pressing it once more you wait this time. The dryer stayed still.

The chaotic emotions from before enveloped you again and this time you could feel tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” Jungkook is throwing you a worried look, not having expected the sight of your tears.

“It’s not started! It’s broken!” you exclaim tears pooling barely hanging onto your bottom lashes. You pushed him gently aside and hopped off the laundry machine. “Why has it not started?”

The desperate look you gave him paired with the knowledge that the machine was not doing what you wanted because you had not paid makes him crack and start laughing. You gape at his bunny smile and crinkly eyes offended until the silliness of the situation catches up to you and you can’t help but join.

“I have never cried over a broken dryer before. Or been cockblocked by one” you glance at him, mirth in both your eyes.

“And you better not start now” he warns you jokingly. You stare at each other for a second before you burst out laughing again.

He can’t help but be enamoured by you and your silliness. Even though the night had not gone as you’d both planned. You both crying in laughter over a dryer makes him think that maybe there was something more there than a one night stand. And he was more than ready to give it a try.

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