#this is the first time ive opened or looked at any social media for almost 2 weeks cause the thought of talking to MORE people is nauseating

[super-sucklet]

things that have happened today

- my mum and brother got in a fight about him clearing the driveway so my sister could park her car (my sister didnt care as along as the driveway was clear by monday)

- my sister got in a fight with her on&off bf about his ex. i told her, again, to dump him

- my brother got all butthurt about how much fighting him being is the house is causing (hes a slob and a bad parent)

- THE COPS SHOWED UP to talk to my brother about an accident he was supposedly in earlier this week but they showed up at like 8pm so its kinda sus

- mum and my brother got in ANOTHER fight because he was super drunk and kept talking over her and insulting her when she was talking to our neighbour

- i spent most of the morning babysitting my niblings bc my brother was "too busy" until i eventually just left

- my mum and her bf had a (small) fight just cause theres so much fucking tension in the house rn

- probably some other shit that i forgot about

[lottins-only]

I love you, it's ruining my life | Part IV

pairing: Kylian x black!fem!Reader

word count: 6.2k

part one, part two, part three

A/N: as always, please let me know what you think in my inbox <3 Like this post if you'd like to be added to my taglist.

IV. Summer 2023 through Spring 2024

July 2023

“Tic Tac!” The man on the TV had wide, and quite frankly, manic-looking eyes. “Tic Tac!”

Kylian quickly grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, releasing a sigh of relief at the ensuing silence. It was all noise these days, the minute he turned on the TV, or opened Twitter and Instagram, or even glanced at a newspaper. His name in big bold capital letters, in a headline that almost always contained the words “leaving” or “staying”. Everyone wanted to know. The paparazzi stalked his every move, yelling out the million dollar question to him any chance they got �� “Kylian, are you leaving PSG?”  as if he’d respond to them. People on twitter tracked his flights, trying to see if any of the planes he boarded were headed to Madrid. Self- proclaimed insider journalists went viral on social media with their ‘scoops’, causing a flurry of conversation, and depending on which day it was and which side you were on, either joy or sadness. Turtle emojis haunted his dreams, and now, thanks to the Spanish TV channel he’d accidentally come across, so would the words ‘tic tac’.

He was a good sport about it, most times. But at times it was all too much. Like today. He’d spent the majority of it in a meeting with his mother and legal team, discussing  PSG negotiation strategies. Then he’d come home to take an afternoon nap, only to be woken up by his lawyer calling him to deliver the news: PSG had frozen him out of the first team. He’d proceeded to go to his living room and open the TV,  mindlessly scrolling through the channels, happy to not just think for a couple of minutes, to let the disbelief and anger marinate inside him until he could express it at a later time . But that was all gone when he happened upon the Tic Tac man, who apparently hosted a show that was dedicated to the Mbappe - Real Madrid Saga. Now it was back to stressing about his present, and his future. 

Truthfully, everything had started unraveling the day he’d royally fucked everything up with Y/N, back in December. The heartbreak he’d felt had been unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, so all encompassing that it had left him at a loss of equilibrium. It shook him to his core.  He didn’t just lose the girl he loved, he lost his best friend too.  He’d decided to pour everything he had into football, and he’d quite literally been rewarded for it when he’d become PSG’s top goalscorer. He felt happiness he hadn’t felt in a long while when he stood there in the stadium that evening, thousands cheering him on as he held up the trophy. But then all of it had dissipated back in his apartment, his friends and family gone after a night of celebration,  the golden 201 staring at him from his trophy cabinet. What good was any of it if he couldn’t call and share his joy  with the person who mattered to him the most? He’d felt incredibly lonely then, more lonely than when he was just 14 alone in the Monaco academy for the very first time.  Y/N had left a big, wide hole in his life, and no matter how he tried to forget it, it was still there. 

His phone, which he had  carelessly tossed across the couch, started to vibrate. It was his mother, probably calling to check on him, maybe offer some words of comfort. He ignored it. He didn’t want to speak to anyone at the moment; He didn’t have the energy to pretend he was ok, , to feign acceptance of his uncertain future and Y/N’s absence from his life. Instead, he headed to the fridge and grabbed a rare beer. He wasn’t going to be playing  professional football anytime soon , so who cared how much carbs he consumed? 

He watched his phone continue to vibrate as he took a gulp of beer. It periodically flashed different names: his parents, his brothers, his sister in law,  Tchaga. He was happy to ignore all of them in favor of wallowing in his sadness. It went on like that for an hour or so, his phone occasionally lighting up with someone calling as he sunk deeper into his misery. Then, a name appeared on the screen that made him almost choke on his beer.

He quickly grabbed the phone and answered. “Hello?” 

 “Hi” Y/N’s voice was tentative, almost shy. “Are you okay, Kylian?”

“Yeah” He managed to keep his voice steady. “Yeah, I’m okay”

“Are you sure?” her voice was tinted with concern. “It’s all over the news here. Plus, your mom is worried, said you’re not picking up your phone” 

He winced. “ Don’t mind her, It's probably all the stress from the negotiations taking a toll”

“And you?”

“And me what?” he asked.

“Is it taking a toll on you?” She clarified

“No, I’m good” he said defensively. “I’m great, actually”

His beer bottle that had been teetering on the edge of his coffee table suddenly tumbled down and crashed to the floor. 

He cursed. “Sorry, my beer just went everywhere…” 

“Beer?” She sounded surprised. “You don’t drink beer. Especially so close to the season starting”

He sighed. “Y/N, we haven’t spoken in more than 6 months. Since you fucking broke my heart, mind you. I don’t think you can confidently say you know me anymore”

“Harsh” She replied. “But maybe deserved”

He heard shuffling at the other end, and the unmistakable sound of a cat’s meow. “Is that a cat?” he asked.

“Yup. I adopted one about a month ago” she replied. “Her name is Luna”

He snorted. “Half the cats in the world are named Luna. Couldn’t you be a little original?”

“Shut up” She chuckled, then paused. “And I still know you well, by the way”

“Mmm?” He was searching for a broom and dustpan to clean up the beer bottle mess. He couldn’t find them anywhere. He was shamefully clueless about this stuff, seeing as he had a cleaning person come take care of things  like that. 

“Yeah. I can bet my salary you’re looking for something to clean up your mess with but you can’t find it” The sound of her giggle made his heart skip a beat. 

Kylian smiled in spite of himself and muttered “Fuck you” under his breath.

He finally found the broom and dustpan. 

“You know what else I can bet?” Her tone softened, turned more serious. “I can bet that the Kylian I know wouldn’t let this type of stuff get to him. No matter what pressure he’s put under, no matter what they say. He’d just let his football speak for itself”

“Yeah well, they’re not even letting me play football. That’s the issue. It’s either renew my contract  or I won't play a single minute this season. And that’s a problem, Y/N. Because if I don’t play, then It means I start getting out of form. And I can’t have that. There’s too much on the line. The Euros next summer, and then maybe the Olympics…” He’d swooped up all the broken glass carefully and was now wiping the excess beer. “I don’t want to disappoint anyone”

“What about… What about here?” 

He knew ‘here’ meant Madrid, but the way she said it made it sound like ‘here’ was more personal. For a moment he imagined a world where they were together, a world where he’d be able to find solace with her – in her city, her apartment, her bed. He quickly dismissed that thought before it could hurt him.

“I want to finish my PSG contract first” It was a line that almost felt robotic the number of times he uttered it to the press, but it was still true.

“In any case, I don’t think you should worry too much, Kylian. You have great lawyers, great people behind you. They’ll figure it out” Her voice was comforting, and for the first time, he believed those words that had been told to him by friends and family countless times. 

The door to his apartment rattled just then, and he cringed. The timing couldn’t be worse. He disposed of the glass as he heard the door unlock from the other side, and then the sound of clicking heels approaching. 

“Kyky, are you okay?” She asked, just as she came into view. “You didn’t pick up when I called”

She saw that he was on the phone, and Kylian was about to open his mouth to explain when she whispered “Is that Fayza?”

He didn’t know what possessed him to lie, but he did. He nodded a yes. 

She gave an understanding nod, before motioning that she was headed towards his bedroom.  Kylian watched as she went up the stairs, overnight bag in one hand and the sound of her heels echoing. 

A brief silence, and then, “Who was that?” from the other end of the phone. 

“You remember Sophia from Monaco? She lives in Paris now” Why did it feel like he was delivering bad news? She was the one that had left him heartbroken. “And we’re dating”

“Dating dating or are you still just hooking up?” Her voice was unreadable. 

“No, we’re dating. Shocker, but I’m actually capable of being in a relationship”

“Why did she move to Paris?” She ignored his pointed jab. “What does she even do now?”

“She’s a model” 

She snorted. “ There it is”

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That’s your usual type, no?” 

He rolled his eyes. “Not really. My type was you. Just you.  You thought I was using you for sex, though. That’s why we didn’t work out right?”

“Well—”

“But yeah, she is a model” He ignored her, not wanting to prod his own open wound.  “Not all of us can be super smart, saving people’s lives…”

“I don’t save lives” She pointed out. “At least not directly. I’m in nonprofit work, remember?”

He did remember. He knew everything about her, admired and cherished every single detail. Yet, she wasn’t his. He’d gotten close; those 10 days after his birthday were the best of his life. But she ran away. And maybe it was his fault. It was a thought that haunted him till this day. Maybe I should have been more forward. Told her how I felt. Told her I love you.

He cleared his throat. “You know, we’re doing an event next week for the kids in my foundation. About getting into STEM fields.”

“I know” She responded. “I’m going to be there”

“What?” He couldn’t hide his surprise. 

“Yeah, your mom invited me. I’m going to be one of the speakers” She sounded amused that he didn’t know.

“Oh… I guess I’ll see you then”

“Yeah, I’ll see you” she said quietly. 

There was a brief silence, and Kylian thought it was the appropriate  time to wrap the conversation up. Any other time and they’d spend minutes in comfortable silence, speaking only when they felt like it, and on things that ranged from random to deep. But this was the first time they were speaking in months, and there was another girl waiting for him upstairs. 

“Thank you for calling. For calming me down. You’re very talented at that ” He let out a sad laugh.

“Of course. I’m always your friend, Kylian. No matter what” She said it with so much conviction it almost made up for everything else. 

He thought she was going to add something else, but she didn’t. They said their goodbyes and hung up the phone.

October 2023 

The second time they spoke on the phone, he was on a flight back from a game. It was a loss, and no one was happy, so there was a muted atmosphere on the plane. Despite that, the adrenaline still running through his veins prevented him from falling asleep. He kept awake, fidgeting in his seat, trying to fend off the thoughts that usually assailed him after a loss. Could’ve made that pass. Should’ve scored that goal. 

He decided to distract himself. He pressed play on the latest episode of his favorite show, but he couldn’t concentrate. He contemplated playing a game, but he didn't want to think. Next to him, Dembele was softly snoring. He instinctively reached for his phone, and before even thinking about it, called Y/N. 

She picked up almost instantly. “Hello?” Her groggy voice made him realize it was well past midnight in Madrid.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late. We can –”

“It’s fine, it’s fine” Her voice was soft. “What’s up?”

He looked out at the night sky through the small airplane window. “Nothing, nothing. Just couldn’t sleep, and thought I’d try and talk to someone” 

She chuckled. “Well, you’re in luck, because I’ve been sitting at my desk for the past hour trying to study. You caught me just when I started to doze off”

“Study for what?” He kept his voice low to not wake his neighbor. “I thought you were done with all of that”

“Decided I have one more degree in me” She said. “I started a masters program”

“Wow. So you’re juggling classes, your job, and being a mom to Luna” He tsked jokingly. “That’s a lot on your plate”

“Tell me about it” She yawned. “I’m fully embracing the cat lady stereotype these days”

“What, no guys hitting you up?” He kept his tone teasing, but he was very curious.

“Don’t have time, is all” She responded. “I barely leave the apartment during the weekends… I barely even see friends”

He frowned, imagining her cooped up in her tiny apartment all alone, straining her eyes by poring over her books. Neglecting herself. “Y/N, you work so hard, don’t forget to take care of yourself”

“I’m managing” Her tone was soft but strained. His frown deepened. How had he not noticed the deep tiredness in her voice until now?

“So, what are you doing this weekend?” She asked, clearly trying to change the subject. “Any plans with Sophia?”

“Well, we have two days off, so I was thinking–” A lightbulb flickered inside his head. “I’m actually going to be in Madrid”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah” He lied. “ I’ve got a Nike photoshoot”

“So, I’ll get to see you right?”

“Yes, of course. You’ll have to text me your address and stuff and I’ll come by..”

She didn’t express any excitement, and he didn’t blame her. He felt nervous himself,  seeing as this would be their first meeting alone since December. He’d come up with the idea on the spot, lying about a photoshoot,  because something in her voice was off. He wanted to see her, to check on her. Plus, he missed her. 

He texted his assistant to arrange a flight and a hotel to Madrid before the plane even landed in Paris. He rushed back to his apartment just to shower and to pack a bag, then he was once again on a plane, making his way to Y/N. 

By morning, he was in sunny Madrid. By mid-morning, his driver was taking him to Y/N’s apartment. His heart was beating out of his chest as he knocked on her door. A few seconds, and it opened. And there she was. 

He was struck by a sense of longing, the heartache he’d felt all those months compounded tenfold at the sight of her. He couldn’t dwell on that, though, because the longing immediately gave way to a wave of concern. She looked exhausted, her curls frazzled and dark circles visible on her tired face. Despite this, she smiled at him wordlessly and let him inside. 

Her apartment was a reflection of her current state – chaotic and disheveled. Papers and books were scattered across surfaces, take-out boxes on the floor. 

“Sorry about the mess, I got swept away with work” She shrugged at him in embarrassment as he cleared away papers on the sofa to take a seat.

“No worries” he said, looking around her apartment. This was his first time in her living space.

“Do you want me to get you anything? Water?” She asked, just as a blob of gray fur suddenly flew across the room from nowhere and leaped at him.

“ Ow!” Kylian exclaimed as the cat’s claw made contact with his face. He looked down at it with a disapproving look.“ You must be Luna. Thanks for that”

Luna meowed at him contentedly from her perch on his lap. Y/N chuckled, but her laugh quickly turned into a yawn.

He scratched Luna’s ears and gave Y/N a serious look. “ You need to sleep. Now” 

“But I— 

“No buts. You need rest” He said firmly “ You go take a nap, I’ll chill with Luna”

“ But you just got here!”

“ We have the whole weekend to hang out”

She frowned. “ You came here for work though”

He ignored her comment. “Just go sleep,Y/N”

With a resigned sigh, she made way to the bedroom. 

He looked back at Luna, then at the messy apartment. A former coach of his had once told him a person’s living space was a reflection of their mental state. He sighed at the British shorthair. “Let’s get to work Luna”

He started by gathering the books and papers, carefully arranging them so they were all in the right place. Next, He cleared away all the trash and disposed of it. He wiped all the surfaces of the living room and kitchen, restoring some sense of order. Luna trailed after him all throughout his cleaning, rubbing her head against his leg once in a while.

After some contemplation, he decided to take the risk and walk to the grocery store across from her apartment building.  Thankfully, the store clerk didn’t recognize him in his cap and sunglasses so he got his shopping done without any hassle. Back in the apartment, he replaced the wilted flowers on her kitchen table with the fresh ones he’d gotten, then put away the groceries he’d picked up. 

He’d never cooked a meal in his entire life, but he figured he’d be able to follow a recipe. So he pulled up youtube and searched up a simple pasta recipe. It took him longer than he’d anticipated, but by the time Y/N woke up, there was a steaming home cooked meal waiting for her on the kitchen table.

She broke into a giggle as soon as she walked out of her bedroom, her eyes lighting up in delight. “You did all this?”

He raised his arms up in mock triumph. “I’m not a completely useless human being outside of football, you know”

“Never said you were” She took a seat by the kitchen table, eagerly stabbing a fork through her pasta.

He watched her take a bite, a grin spreading across his face as she gave him an approving thumbs up. Nothing he loved more than validation from Y/N.

He plated up some for himself, and they ate in companionable silence. Afterwards, Y/N insisted on cleaning up and he didn’t protest, seeing as doing the dishes had always been his least favorite chore ever since he was a kid. He watched her move around the kitchen, already sensing less tension in her after the nap and meal. 

When dusk rolled around, he turned to her and grinned. “Time for you to show me your city”. And so they set off, him dressed modestly in just a T-shirt , sweatpants, a cap and pair of sunglasses not to attract attention and her in a pretty yellow sundress. This was his first time venturing outside without a bodyguard in years, and he was sure his mother would have a heart attack if she found out, but he didn’t tell Y/N; he wanted her to feel completely at ease. As they walked, she pointed out some of her favorite things about the city: the mix of historic and contemporary architecture, and the street art. He listened attentively, though his anxiety was growing. It would take only one person to notice him for word to spread around and a mob to form. Then he could do little to protect Y/N or himself. 

She must have sensed his worry, because shortly after she pulled him into one of the less crowded cafes. They took a seat outside, his back facing the streets. He watched her people watch, the setting sun casting golden hues over her face. She’d gotten a scoop of ice cream while he was sipping on peach iced tea. 

“You know, I hate to complain, but sometimes I wish it was easier” His tone was heavy. “Whenever I’m outside, it feels like I’m always on guard. ” He turned and looked wistfully at the bustling street.

“On the bright side, you’re living your dream” She reminded him with a sympathetic look. “Not many people can say that”

He nodded in agreement, then paused. “Do you think, you and I,  if there wasn’t all of this”–He gestured vaguely at himself – “would we have worked out?”

She raised her eyebrows at him, clearly surprised at his question. “I don't – Kylian, I–”

He interrupted her, snorting bitterly. “Remember when you basically told me I’m a fuckboy athlete using you for sex?”

“We don’t need to talk about that now, Kylian” She looked down at her ice cream.

“No, I think we do” He said firmly. “Do you know how much you hurt me?”

She looked up at him. “ Kylian… I’ve seen the pictures, heard the stories. Plus the way you behaved during our…situationship or whatever you call it.  You can’t fault me for thinking that way”

“What do you mean the way I behaved?” He laughed bitterly. “ You were the only person I was seeing.  Holding hands, kissing, I’ve never done that in public before with anyone else.  All because I was proud you were mine… at least I thought you were going to be mine.”

“Well that’s the issue, Kylian. You never told me any of that. I was hurt.. I thought I was just a temporary distraction to you” She said quietly. “I thought you were throwing away our friendship just for sex”

He was hurt that that was the way she viewed him. But he hadn’t led her to believe otherwise, had he? He’d never entertained the idea of a relationship with anyone before her simply because he’d never liked someone so much before her. And so most of his late teen years and early twenties had been spent in a cycle of casual flings, never letting anyone get too close. He could see why she’d thought that way.

“Y/N, I never meant to make you feel like that,” he said, his voice earnest. “I’ve never been in a place where I cared about someone as much as I care about you. Maybe I didn’t show it right, but it was never just about a fling for me.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway, though” She continued, locking eyes with him. “We have two completely different lifestyles… it would never work” She said the last part quietly, as if it was a painful truth she would’ve rather be false.

“So your answer is yes?” He tried to hide the pain in his voice.

“What?”

“The answer to my original question, about my career being in the way, it’s yes right?”

She slowly nodded. He nodded back, a silent acceptance passing between them. Perhaps she was right; they lived in different countries, worked two completely different jobs. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. He had Sophia– who lived in the same city as him, who ran in the same circles, who had no problem throwing herself into his world. That should have consoled him, but he couldn’t help but feel that this would be the ‘what if’ that haunted him forever. 

She reached out and took his hand. “But Kylian, your friendship means the world to me. I want that forever.  I mean look at me, I was on the verge of collapse before you visited. Thank you, by the way” She added, giggling self-deprecatingly. 

He managed a small, bittersweet smile. His phone rang just then, and Y/N snatched her hand back when she saw the caller ID on his phone. It was Sophia, wanting to know how his photoshoot was going. He weaved a web of half-truths while Y/N looked down, playing with her ice cream.

By the time he hung up, the sun had completely set and the bustling street outside was bathed in street lights. He’d drunk the last of his iced tea while Y/N spooned the final bits of her ice cream. He found himself watching, mesmerized as her tongue peeked out of her mouth to lick her spoon. Her tongue darted out again to swipe the remaining ice cream from her plump lips.  His mouth slightly gaped as she closed her eyes, letting out a  soft moan of satisfaction. “That was really good” She said as he moved his eyes away and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Even after the painful conversation they’d had, she was capable of getting his blood flowing to all the wrong places in his body. He didn’t know if it was pathetic or funny. 

He cleared his throat. “Let’s head back, shall we?”

February 2024

“Look this way, you two!” The photographer shouted over the loud chatter. Kylian had slowly grown irritated throughout the night; first it was the itchy jacket that clung to him, then the seemingly endless stream of people coming up to him asking for pictures, and now it was this nosy photographer trying to get a snap that he could sell to the tabloids. He knew he was hired by Tchaga to document the opening of his new business, so he tried to keep a polite facade. “No thanks,” He said. “We’re good”

The photographer moved along, clearly disappointed. Next to him, Y/N gave him a playful pout. “You don’t want  pictures with me?”

He rolled his eyes at her. “You know why”

She smirked at him as she took a sip of her drink. “Can’t help it if people think I’m hot”

A few weeks ago, a video of Y/N speaking at his foundation event back in July had resurfaced online and gained traction on Twitter and Tiktok. People were commenting on the ‘insane chemistry’ between her and Kylian, and how they looked like the perfect match. Up until then, Y/N had been able to maintain her anonymity; she was never photographed with Kylian or seen out with him. She’d always joked about making her public debut in his documentary fifty years from now, where she’d recount embarrassing stories from his childhood. But that video going viral meant she’d had hundreds of thousands of people camping out on her Instagram page, convinced she was his latest love interest. A few tabloid articles soon followed the social media buzz, lighting up even more speculation online.  The irony of  all of that happening just  as they finally moved past their short lived romance was not lost on Kylian. 

Though she hadn’t mentioned it, he knew she wasn’t taking this invasion of her  privacy lightly. He felt a pang of guilt,  especially since this wasn’t the expected outcome when she’d volunteered to speak to the kids. So he overcompensated sometimes, like in this instance, to make sure no photos of them leaked online or on tabloids to fuel further gossip. 

He watched her open her email app for the third time at night, anxiously refreshing it to see if there were any new messages in her inbox.

 “Stop that” He snatched the phone out of her hand.  

“Give me–” She started protesting, but he’d already replaced her empty hand with another drink.

“You need to relax, they’ll get back to you when they get back to you” He said.

She sighed, nodding hesitantly. She’d come to Paris for a job interview with a company she’d been impressed by for a while. She wasn’t very stressed before the interview, saying she’d rather stay at her job in Madrid anyway, but no one likes facing rejection. As a result, she kept checking her phone for updates while in the middle of the party,  which she’d been able to attend because it had coincided with the day of the job interview. 

They watched as Tchaga made a speech, Kylian clapping proudly for his best friend. Y/N left shortly after he cut the ribbon, citing exhaustion. Kylian offered his driver to take her home but she declined, so he walked  her out of the party and waited for her Uber with her. 

“Where’s Sophia tonight?” She asked, shivering slightly in the cold evening air.

“Oh, we broke up” He said casually, shedding his jacket and holding it up for her.

“What?” Her eyes widened in surprise as she turned around, letting him drape the jacket over her shoulders. “I didn’t know that”

He shrugged. “ It wasn’t working out. We wanted different things”

“And what were those?”

“She..” He paused, measuring his words. “ She wanted to be more public. And I didn’t want that”

It was more than that. She’d started posting photos of inside his house, which Kylian had expressed his discomfort at. She didn’t understand where he was coming from though, didn’t understand that as someone who was in the public eye from a very young age he placed a high value on his privacy. Then it was calling photographers whenever they were out together– at events,  restaurants, you name it. He’d always known that being her boyfriend increased her profile in the modeling world, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in the entire relationship just for the spotlight. So, he’d called it quits. Her reaction had confirmed his suspicions – he’d seen pictures of her out and about with an A list actor just a few days after their break up.

“I’m sorry, Kyky” She gave him a hug, wrapping her arms around his torso. He rested his chin on the top of her head, fighting the urge to kiss her wind frazzled curls.

“You haven’t called me that in a long time” 

“ Just wanted to reclaim the nickname I gave you, now that she’s out of your life”  She grumbled.

Kylian chuckled, feeling slightly satisfied by the jealous undertone in her voice.Y/N had still never met Sophia but she always overheard her call him Kyky over  the phone. It was true that she was the one who’d come up with the nickname when they were younger. He liked that she was possessive over him; over a part of him, at least.

They said their goodbyes after a few moments, and he watched her uber speed away. He only went back inside when the car turned the corner and disappeared. 

Inside the party, he mingled with friends of friends and other acquaintances. An hour or so went by before it was just his inner circle left. He stood around with Ethan, his father, and Tchaga, chatting about the week’s football and other random tidbits. 

Ethan pointed at the small beard on his chin, laughing.  “You’re still growing that out? We told you it sucks” 

Him and Tchaga had teased him mercilessly about it last time he’d grown it out, saying it was tacky. He’d quickly shaved after that.

“Oh, Y/N said she liked it so I just kept it” He shrugged.

“You’d probably wear clown shoes if she told you they looked good”  His father muttered quietly.

Ethan and Tchaga burst into laughter, while Kylian’s face flushed. Seeing his son's embarrassment, Wilfried quickly corrected himself.

“What I meant to say,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, “is that you clearly value her opinion more than anyone else’s.”

“Which is great” Tchaga added “If you both weren’t running away from your feelings”

Kylian groaned.

“It’s never going to work out” He automatically repeated the words she’d said to him, the same words he said to himself during sleepless nights.

His father squeezed his shoulder and looked him in the eye. “To me, it just seems like you’re both scared. Maybe take a leap of faith. It’s obvious you two care about each other a lot… If you don’t give it a shot, you’re going to regret it. Trust me”

You’re going to regret it. Wasn’t he already? Deep down, he knew there was no one else for him besides her. Anyone else he kissed, slept with, dated, or even had a fleeting connection with was just second best. No one knew him like she did, no one else had his heart in the palm of their hand. If he didn’t tell her now, then they’d start drifting apart. Separate futures.  Separate lives with different families and different partners. A life of misery is what awaited him.

He sighed. He knew what to do.

April 2024

Kylian had arrived in Madrid on that April morning  with two missions; First to sign the most important contract of his professional career so far, then to tell his best friend he was in love with her. The first part was straightforward; himself and his group of lawyers had met Real Madrid’s lawyers, signed the papers, and sealed the deal. Just like that, the most dramatic football transfer saga of the decade came to an end. 

The second one he’d been more nervous for. He’d tried to come up with a script, something romantic like in the movies. But it felt disingenuous, so he decided he’d make it up as we went along.  Hey, I know you said we’re never going to work out, but we’re going to be living in the same city soon so why don’t we give it a try? Nah, that was too simple. He needed to come up with something better.

He met her at her apartment in the evening, leaving behind his mother and the rest of the team who’d come along for the contract signing.

“He’s off to see his girlfriend now” His mother had announced to the table when he excused himself after their late lunch. 

He’d flinched at the term and whispered, “She’s not my girlfriend”

“Oh, really?” She shot him a look that could melt steel.  “And why is that?” 

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “Don’t even start with the ‘I don’t have time’ excuse . You two  can spare 2 hours a day to talk on the phone, so you clearly do have the time”

He didn’t respond, just gave her a small smile. Being called out by both parents for unresolved feelings wasn’t for the weak.  Hopefully, he'd give her good news by the next day. 

Now, he was in Y/N’s living room, waiting for her to finish getting ready before they went out to dinner. After contemplating how he’d talk to her about it, he’d decided dinner was the best option so he’d proposed the idea that they go out for a nice meal.  He entertained himself by playing with Luna as he waited for her, watching the cat run around the apartment leaving chaos in her wake. 

He looked up when he heard the sound of heels.  Y/N emerged out of her room, looking beautiful in a white dress that hugged her figure gracefully. It was knee length, sleeveless and was complemented by a pair of tall white heels. Almost involuntarily, his gaze wandered up her legs, admiring the way the white of her dress contrasted with her brown skin. His eyes traced the curve of her hips – he’d once had the privilege of laying his hands on them, but now he could only stare longingly.

She cleared her throat and his eyes immediately darted away. She had an amused look on her face, clearly aware of where his thoughts had been. He just smirked back in response, as if to say “sue me”.

“You look beautiful” He said quietly.

“Thank you” She said. She was glowing more than usual, the happiness on her face evident. 

“You look really happy” He noted, smiling at her. “It suits you”

“Well, it’s because I got that job I told you about!” She squealed in excitement. 

His smile faltered. “What?”

“I was going to tell you over dinner, but I couldn’t wait” She shrugged happily, her delight evident.

“Wow” He was well and truly speechless. “Congratulations”

“Thank you” She beamed at him.

“So, you’ll be moving?” He dreaded the answer to that question.

She nodded in affirmation. “I’m really excited”

He thought about the cruel coincidences that had followed them for years; She left Paris as soon as he came back to Paris, and now she was leaving Madrid to Paris just as he was leaving Paris to come to Madrid. It felt like a cosmic joke from the universe, a message that they were never meant to be. The thing he wanted most in the world at the tip of his fingers, now gone. He felt tears prick his eyes but he blinked them away. 

“Kylian, are you okay?” Y/N gave him a concerned look.

He put on his best fake smile, the one he reserved for journalists. “Yeah, I’m fine. Come on, let’s go celebrate”

tags: @kyliansonlygf @ynkfreeastheocean @scottishthistle @user6373738 @lucysantos6-blog @tuliptopiasstuff @kennasutopia @cinderellawithashoe @akiracim @kymb-10 @germanapples @ariesmai

[lfghughes]

Can you pleaseeeee do something for Matthew tkachuk based off of the song “babe” by Taylor swift :))))

a/n: ok so don't judge me but ive probably only heard this song in passing but i wish you guys could have seen the way my jaw dropped when i listened to it and imagined everything i was going to write. thank you anon FOR BREAKING MY HEART no really i love you for this pain !!

warning: cheating

The world had shifted upside down when you had opened up your dm’s the other day. In a way you didn’t think your world could shift. You’re not one to usually check your dm’s to begin with but you had clicked on it and when the photo of Matthew popped up of him with another girl. Nothing could have prepared you for that. What you did know was that you weren’t going to sweep this under the rug.

This was the one thing you could not forgive from him. He ruined every promise he had ever made. The minute he had gotten home you had shown him the messages and the look on his face confirmed it. By the end of the night he was out of the apartment. You almost caved in as he begged for your forgiveness and told you it wouldn’t happen again but how were you supposed to trust him?

It had only been a week and you knew hearts didn’t heal that fast but the pain felt like it was only getting worse with time not better. There wasn’t a day you didn’t think about him or feel the pain of his betrayal. You dodged messages from him left and right. You set your social media all to private to avoid any kind of messages about him.

You were in the middle of finishing up your dinner in the kitchen when all the thoughts of your relationship came back. All those sweet moments with Matthew where you believed there was no one else like him. That he could never hurt you and how you could never hurt him. You sank down to the floor, placing your head in between your knees as you cried.

There were so many tears this past week and you weren’t sure how you still had tears to cry at this point. Everything hurt so bad and the memories with him only made it worse. Were you naive for thinking he was madly in love with you? No way he was if he so easily kissed someone else. Did he kiss her neck the way he kissed yours? Did he make her the same promises?

It didn’t matter you decided. You got up from where you were sitting on the floor and decided to go grab your phone. The first step to moving on was to get rid of any photos of you two. Off your instagram. Off your phone. When you clicked onto your phone you saw that there was a missed call and a voicemail from Matthew and your heart sank to your stomach as you clicked on it.

“Hey babe…I don’t know if I get to still call you that. I guess not..I really want to talk to you. I can’t sleep. I can’t do anything. Please, I love you. You’re the only person I want to be with.” It hurt so bad hearing those words in that voicemail but how were you supposed to just pack these feelings away and let him back in? You deleted the voicemail and immediately started deleting the photos off your profile. He was right about one thing, he doesn’t get to call you babe anymore. That was the last time he would.

[suffersinfandom]

A Summary of The OFMD Meta (Part IV)

This is part four of an incomplete summary of A Meta-Discussion Of The Subtext by meratrishoslee (Mera) on AO3 (linked to, as the author requests). I’m trying to stay impartial and present the content fairly and with context. Like, I started reading this 140K beast after I saw a wild screencap and thought, "Surely there's context that makes this make sense," so I do want to provide at least that much.

This part includes interviews and a response to one of the “concern trolls that couldn't quite manage to wipe the foamy froth from their mouths long enough to keep it from dripping on their keyboards.”

No more chapter numbers because they keep being reordered.

Other posts Part I Part II Part III

Chapter The Vanity Fair Article - A Wondrous Fuckery

Here’s the article that chapter is about.

Mera suspects that the interview happened via text, giving David Jenkins time to sort out what he was going to say. They note that they’re “going on vibes and subtext, which is really more [their] wheelhouse.” You’re welcome to disagree with them.

“First off, I was trained in the House of Moftiss/BBC Sherlock fandom, where we just assumed that every word the showrunners spoke in an interview or on social media was a shameless distortion at best, and an outright lie at worst -- so that's where my mind goes first. [...] Having said that... so much of the Vanity Fair interview is an actual gift.  You do have to cherrypick somewhat... but again, DJenks just released an episode with a major character death.  He can't go back and reverse himself and suggest on any textual level that the death was less than permanent.”

VF mentions the happy endings in the finale, and Jenkins says, same-sex relationships end on a dour, downbeat note, where one of them dies and it’s unrequited or it’s unrealized; something horrible happens and they’re punished in a way.

“That's not a happy ending -- and that's exactly what you apparently fucking did with a central character.  Gosh, how weird of you to bring it up here.  So why?  Is it... is it something you left open for a third season?  That the horrible death of an unrequited love isn't what it appears?”

Jenkins says that Izzy is kind of a mentor to Blackbeard and that he is kind of a father figure. Mera says that “this is the closest he gets to queerbaiting us” because Izzy is definitely not Ed’s father figure.

“Notice we are still given the subtext here: mostly dead is slightly alive, and "kind of a father figure" feels like a limp gesture in the direction of explanation.  The rest of it... if you feel insulted on Con's behalf, that Izzy Hands was reduced to an old dog being put down at the vet's office here ("beautiful arc", "does a lot of things", "it's time", "full meal" -- god, a day at the dog park and a last fucking supper with cheeseburgers and pie and all the human food he never got to have otherwise she says sarcastically) -- YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO.”

Jenkins keeps mentioning “magic, love, turning, losing, changing, rebirth, resurrection, present tense about Izzy Hands, ghosts/life after death, or anything of those flavors.” He is “legitimizing repetition” in order “to prime your mind to see the subtext.  You can only look for something if you know what it looks like: he is giving you the key to the season.”

Jenkins reminds us that “he was not a straight white guy alone in that writers room, and he's telling you the story worked for everyone in that room of all queerness/genders.” 

“And then he brings our head back around and goes ‘hey, look at Izzy again. It's almost like he's the key to everything.  Hey, look at me using present tense on a character that's supposed to be dead and gone which would be past tense. God I love Con O'Neill, and I need you to hear that in every single interview I ever give EVER. His character IS a joy to write.’”

Mera mentions all of the “subtextual queer references and coding” put into Izzy. “You don't create a Queer Avatar by fucking accident. And these professionals certainly did not.”

Mera encourages their readers to read the Q&A that wraps the article “with the mindset that we will have an S3 where a queer self-sacrificing man rises from the dead in a damn near explicit Christ metaphor and our Izzy Hands is safe and whole and loved.”

“The Vanity Fair interview, as far as I'm concerned, is not some painful/cruel gloat. It is a subtextual love letter back to the fans, published just in time to be ready to soothe our hurting hearts -- if we know how to parse it.”

Chapter "Who Do Ya Trust If You Can't Trust God?"

“I'm finding myself tired at being the point of the spear. No one prepared me for how exhausting it is to be among the first to realize a massive truth.”

This chapter is about coping with fandom and contains some solid advice: “The block button is our friend. The unfollow button is our friend. The mute option is our friend. If someone's relentless negativity hurts your feelings or drags you down, mute/unfollow/block them as needed.”

But then:

“I choose to believe my daily-growing mountain of evidence that Izzy Hands is alive and that the writers intend that he be hollered home from the gravy basket. 

“Furthermore? If I can be painfully real for a minute? I am amazed at the trust the writers have given us. 

“Because we the Unseen Crew have been put into the position of Izzy's future lover -- to be to Izzy what Stede was to Ed.  We are called on for our audience participation now, to hold his hand and beg his return -- not for a minute, an hour, or a day... but potentially for the next several months, over a year or more, until we get Season 3. 

“I do tend to have this fatal flaw of wanting to uphold others' trust in me, and to be loyal to those who show loyalty in return.”

Mera reminds us that her word is not canon. She isn’t affiliated with the show and is just trying to provide hope and positivity.

“Even though I often will get tired... I am determined to stay positive. When I can't say something nice, I close the window or the app and say nothing at all. You will find me on my social media being as unrelentingly kind as I know how to be.”

Next: interviews and what we can take from them. “Interviews have exactly two purposes: pocket money for the subject of said interview, and promotion for the show. I was trained to never fully trust what is said in interviews.” Engagement and getting people clicking is more important than imparting useful and truthful information, and nothing engages people like anger.

That’s how we get the early “interviews that are half touching and half enraging, with seriously tone-deaf seeming self-conflicting statements from the writers/showrunners [...]. We can trust that if the interviews are live/verbal, they'll be more irritating rather than less. The showrunners would much rather say too little or say something wrong than give away something too big or too true accidentally, and in the pressure of the moment they will fall back on phrases they've memorized as safe to use.”

Don’t trust that interviews are telling you the truth (but they might be saying something truth-adjacent).

Mera has doubts about Jenkins telling O’Neill about Izzy’s death mid-season. She doesn’t think that Jenkins is that stupid. “It's not too far a stretch to think that this "mid-season" conversation occurred in the middle of filming the first season, and all DJenks is prevaricating about is the timing thereof.” 

Jenkins realized mid season one that Con is an amazing actor, so he takes him out for dinner and says, “Next season I want to kill Izzy 3 times. The first time will be Stede's dream sequence, and the next two will be actual Passion Plays, because we're setting Izzy up to be Jesus and Westley from The Princess Bride and Han Solo from Star Wars.”

“And Con takes up the challenge of being coded as an OVERT Queer Messiah (with an additional layer of subtextual HIV/AIDS)... because of course he does. Of course he fucking does. If he can pull it off -- and if anyone can, it's him -- it's the role of a fucking lifetime. It's a role for history books and media studies for the next fifty or one hundred years. 

“Doesn't that sound a bit more likely? Doesn't that sound a bit more real?”

Mera predicts that interviews and articles will start publishing ideas about Izzy still being alive, and talking about how weird and off the end of season two was. Everyone involved with the show, after all, will “know we inspect every frame and every pixel of every BTS and teaser they release,” so they’ll feed us enough to keep us guessing at the truth.

“Here is my promise to you: if/when I'm wrong about any of this, I will edit this chapter only to admit I was wrong and when and how. I will not remove my evidence.  I am comfortable being wrong.  If I was never wrong, I would never have tried and failed and learned from my failures!”

Chapter Until You Come Full Circle

This chapter is about interviews. “We’ve had, just in the last week, two very sweet and classy interviews with Con (which I did predict, although that was about as safe as saying the sun would rise in the east this morning) – and one that seemed… less so, with Taika.”

First interview with Con.

Con says to trust David Jenkins, which immediately makes Mera think of Proverbs 3:5-6: Trust in the Lord with all your heart, And lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He shall direct your paths. “Now. Am I delulu, as the kids are calling it these days, suggesting that Con might intentionally be throwing some religious vibes at us?”

Con is also “earnest and intense” in his praise of OFMD’s writing. This is a good sign; that means he thinks the show is written well, and that’s further evidence that Izzy will be back.

Second interview with Con.

Con “seems to me to be very reluctant to outright lie, which is awesome for a meta writer and squares with my experience of him. Lying is easy in the moment and difficult in the future – a person has to remember what lies they’ve told in order to remain sufficiently consistent in their stories. It takes more skill to tell just enough of the truth that it's both vague in the moment but pays off later.” This makes interviews with him extra valuable.

A short analysis of one of his quotes: “Everything Izzy is in Season 2 was there in Season 1, only understated and repressed. According to the actor who played him: he didn’t change who he was. Izzy just got safe enough to let what was inside him out to where others could see it too.”

One of Con’s quotes backs up Mera’s Sacred Heart meta, namely the part about Izzy trying to serve the crew that loves him. 

Now a Taika interview.

This interview bolsters Mera’s idea of Ed as Judas. 

From the article: When Consequence asks writer/director/actor Taika Waititi if he’s feeling optimistic about a third season of Our Flag Means Death, his initial response is this: “Have you seen the end?”

“I think we can safely assume that Taika’s not asking the interviewer if he’s literally seen the last episode of Season 2. This feels to me like the blunt, sardonic, dry humor Taika’s evinced (and occasionally gotten into trouble over) during other interviews, aimed at the word ‘optimistic.’ ‘Have you seen the end? How optimistic did you think it was?’”

It’s not an optimistic ending. The interview mentions the inn’s renovations, but we don’t see anyone doing any renovating. Ed and Stede don’t even have food as the Revenge sails away. 

From the article: For Waititi, though, the Season 2 finale “feels like a natural end to their story. Just because I feel like, you know, they’ve been through so much and then wind up in that nice place at a happy ending.”

What nice place? What happy ending? 

From the article: Waititi says, though, that “I don’t want it to feel like Rambo III suddenly, you know, when you’re like, ‘Oh man, they have to leave their idyllic life again.'”

“Okay, everything else was fucky as fuck… but that feels wrong enough to be a lighthouse.” So Mera went and watched Rambo III, which is more relevant than she expected. 

Rambo’s “idyllic” life isn’t that great. “We don’t see an emotional, human connection. We see a white guy who’s on tolerance in a place he doesn’t really belong, separated by a language he doesn’t fluently speak. We see a man tormenting himself with boredom and isolation.”

“When you look at John Rambo through most of this movie, you see a pretty good correlation to Edward at the start of the last episode of OFMD S2: on tolerance in a place that’s not truly his home, trying to fit a life and do a job he’s not suited to… and he gives it up without another thought because a man he cares about is in danger.” A hint to season three?

Chapter My Ridiculous Obsession With Love

In this chapter, Mera addresses one of her “haters.” 

For anyone who forgot the thesis of this meta: “The overarching hypothesis I'm building in this meta-discussion is that Izzy's death was more serious because HIV/AIDS and queer grief is serious.  He had to go into the grave and take the full journey of the passion play to be able to leave it behind him, and to re-emerge as someone that can touch, kiss, and love again.”

--

Commenter: “None of that makes this a definitive interpretation, or one that the creative team can reasonably be held responsible for.” 

Mera: “... yes?  Okay, sure? (Dear non-haters: just picture that John Travolta confusion gif again, because if I threw it in here every time I rammed up against an example of begging the question in this comment, there'd be like 30 of them and we'd all get tired of them.)”

--

Commenter: “The crew hold back because Ed is the person Izzy dedicated his life to and has not yet fully reconciled with- they're giving him space to sort things with Ed so he can go in peace. Etc etc.”

Mera: “I see a rapid parade of images and sounds. "He's a dick, but he's our dick." Jim snarling "He was your friend" up into their captain's face, even though they know for a fact that could get them killed. The crew make the unicorn's leg for him together but they leave it at his door because they know he can't (yet) let himself accept it if anyone's watching: what an incredibly emotionally intelligent maneuver. The easy way that we see Jim and Lucius and Frenchie and Fang interact with Izzy in later eps-- all touching him or letting him lean on him, just never skin to skin. The way that we see Izzy go into Wee John's arms and stay held there for a while as he commits the incredibly vulnerable act of singing for them. The way that Izzy lays his hand on Stede's knee while they're talking at Jackie's bar, and there's no real animosity from them on either side then.

“So I'll give you this one, 100%.  I can't say that you're wrong or prove it in any way.  Your reading is absolutely as valid as mine, no more and no less.”

--

Commenter: “Isn't it heavily implied that people touch him with bare hands while dealing with his leg? And if he is coded as having AIDS and being untouchable, why would the crew be so willing to dive in and get covered in his blood when they treat his leg, especially when they're also scraped up at the time?”

Mera: “I haven't had a chance to write up this meta yet, but in a nutshell: we see Jim and Archie amputate his leg (with their hands pressed together in visual union atop it).  They're covered in blood and this is one of the least realistic depictions of a survivable amputation attempt in media ever, frankly... and yet Izzy lives through it!  [...]

“Notably we do NOT see Fang cleaning up.  I need to go back and verify, but I'm like 99% sure. 

“Why? Is Fang lazy or unhelpful? No, I'd say two reasons. One, he's paralyzed with grief (and the men in this show are so emotional, as Auntie rightfully notes).  But two, certain classifications of men were more susceptible to Izzy's subtextual disease. [...]

“I think it's a direct subtextual sign post to the part that lesbians/wlw/AFAB people had to play in the care of queer men dying of AIDS. [...] Jim won't catch Izzy's subtextual HIV/AIDS, ever.  Jim's hands heal and comfort, with both Izzy and Auntie -- repetition (usually) legitimizes, as I've said elsewhere.”

--

Commenter: “...while I know I have no control over this... it's alarming to see other commenters accepting this elaborate interpretation as if it's definitive.”

Mera: “Ooooh, I'd pay a dollar to find out how many comments you leave on fix-it fics. Are they also dwelling in their delusions of a world where a fictional character in a show overcomes a fictional death in the same show? Is it a sign of mental illness to indulge in word count or WORSE -- for them to irresponsibly leave those insane words just out there online where other people can also continue their madness by READING THEM?!?! The absolute horror. We writers should be ashamed, etc etc. 

“There's every possibility all the words I'm spilling over this are worth just as much as you paid for them: exactly nothing. 

“So thank goodness we have you and others like you, willing to do the purely altruistic and entirely virtuous work of... leaving comments to tell us you didn't agree? I guess?  Honestly I don't have a full lock on what your goal was here, if something other than trying to make people feel bad but fortunately not being very skilled at it.”

--

Commenter: “I wish you and every other fan nothing but the best, and for that reason, I find this hard to watch.”

Mera: “My sibling in Shiva: the 'back' button and the 'x' to close the window are available in every single web browser I have ever used in the history of the internet, ever. But I appreciate your martyrdom in staying here and nobly suffering so hard in an attempt to save me and my readers from ourselves!”

--

Commenter: “It seems like you are setting yourself and others up for even more rage and heartbreak than there would otherwise need to be.”

Mera: “I want to point out that I've tried to be very careful in not speculating about Season 3; I think it's reasonable for any fan to assume all characters living at the end of S2x08 will return in S3 unless real life status of the actors, scheduling, or budgetary considerations prevent that. 

“I want to point out that all I have are the first two seasons, and I am telling you that Izzy Hands, inside the last second of S2x08, is "mostly dead but slightly alive" -- and he's in the house, being the cause of the smell that Edward doesn't want to recognize (as he is at least twice before shown refusing to recognize what he's done as Blackbeard after the fact) but does actually recognize all the same.”

Mera admits that there are two options: “Either I'm correctly parsing the absolute bounty of subtext available in every aspect of the show, or I'm not.”

“On the day that we get that confirmation, I will feel one of two things: either the delicious vindication that I was right -- or amazement that they could build such a wondrous sky castle of subtext, whether consciously or subconsciously, and fail to complete it satisfactorily.”

“I've been wrong before and will freely and cheerfully admit it [...]. That's also why I put in my first meta post that I had been a TJLC'er -- and why I've left it in there, actually. It's correct and it's honest. Straight off I admitted I was wrong about Something Big. 

“See, it's [...] ‘hater bait,’ and it's already caught several. Lots of concern trolls that couldn't quite manage to wipe the foamy froth from their mouths long enough to keep it from dripping on their keyboards, because all of them had mentioned it... until you.”

--

“I've cackled my way through all of the writing of this post, even as I've tried to be very kind in reply -- you should have seen some of the shots I chose not to take due to their cruelty (even though they were fucking hilarious) -- so thank you for a most diverting morning.  I even got more meta and more word count out of this, so it wasn't actually a waste of productive time!”

--

Commenter: “I urge you to reconsider this approach that you're taking.”

Mera: “Here's where I'm gonna get all the way real again. Because I'm not talking to [...] that poor dear any more. I'm talking to the ones who are here with me in the stinking dark of the Pit of Despair, holding onto Izzy's naked right hand with no glove between us any more or hopefully ever again, hollering him back home out of the gravy basket.”

“If one sound had been added, everyone would know what the author knows. “We have the house. We have the grave -- with Izzy's collar on it like the dog collars on the dog graves in Pet Sematary -- where whatever comes back often comes back wrong. We've got the concept of a bad smell. We've got Stede reacting to something awful with a scream [the one thing Mera’s adding in this scenario]. 

“DONE. 

“Now the fandom is convinced that Izzy is alive, just as most of us were convinced in the last 18 months that Lucius was still alive.”

“This is part of what convinced me in the first seconds after the episode was over that Izzy wasn't dead. If I could both change the story and prove it to everyone else with just one small addition... then he's not dead.”

After Lucius was pushed overboard in season one, “I just trusted that this soft and sweet little show wouldn't actually permanently kill one of its gays. [...] And I still trust that it didn't actually permanently forever and truly kill the most gay-coded of its gays.”

[sociallyawkward--fics]

HEY BACK AGAIN. idk how long its been cuz mobile is trash but me n my friend were talking abt how we were in a lot of the same fandom spaces as kids. Sanders sides being one of them. n i was like..... Long shot but do u know sociallyawkward--fics.. n at first they were like no i dont think so.. but then they looked u up n went OH MY GOD YEA??? ill send u a screenshot off anon but i told them we were friends n they said it was like finding out i knew a celebrity LMAO -H (ironic considering theyre prob more popular on ao3 than u😭 they briefly turned back into a 12yo fanboy)

its still so crazy to me ive known u for so long n met him like 3-4 years ago worlds collide ..... Also u can post this though im off anon if u want idc -H

ALSO. since im here. idk if i ever told u my age but when i sent my first ask to u i was probably 11. maybe 10 even. im turning 18 in a couple months now. its hard to bring myself to read some of the asks (ok most of the asks) i sent u over the years bc i was an incredibly anxious and awkward autistic kid. But u always treated me with so much love hahakjs at the time i was rly struggling n had very few friends n AS MUCH AS IT MAKES ME CRINGE TO LOOK BACK ON u were honestly the only older person i could talk to n it rly meant a lot lol. im so much more confident n comfortable in myself than i was all those years ago n ik i dont send u asks nearly as frequently anymore but tbh even if eventually its only once every few years ill always think back on u so fondly n gratefully. Neway i literally hate being sappy so ill shut up here but yeah. Thanks n such -H

ALSO IDK IF UR ACTIVE ON AMY SOCIAL MEDIA RLY?? BUT IF U R I CAN GIVE U SOME OF MY SOCIALS mostly i just tweet abt my day occasionally on twitter but i also have a sideblog where i post art. just thinking that maybe then i wouldnt have to be like 'and heres a quick summary of the past 8 months' n u could check up on me whenever instead of only seeing me when i send asks😭 -H (its also so less formal cuz when i send in asks u Gotta respond whereas if i post 'just ate a kickass burger' u can just. Like it. idk idc either way but lmk ^__^)

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

I'VE BEEN MEANING TO ANSWER THESE FOR MONTHS SINCE I'VE BEEN USING TUMBLR AGAIN AND MY LACK OF OBJECT PERMANENCE HAD ME KEEP FORGETTING I AM SO SORRY 😭😭😭😭

dkjfhkdhf omg that is so wild that you have a friend who also knows about me dkjfhdsf Sanders Sides (back when it was waaaaay smaller of a fandom lol) was the first (and tbh only, really) fandom where i had any real level of "popularity" as a fic writer, and i fed off that high for SO LONG lol -- hearing that people were obsessed with my work, both then and now after the fact, is genuinely so surreal dfkjhdjkfh like. i am just Here, i am just Some Dude who wrote some words that got them weirdly popular at 17-18 dkjsfhdkjfh (also cuz i try to gather all your asks into one post, you continue to remain anonymous just cuz i copy-pasted them into the post in the same order they were received lol)

Dude it is CRAZY that you are almost 18 (or, by the time i am finally managing to answer this with my Bad Brain Powers procrastinating it so long, already 18) -- I looked back and I was 18 when you sent your first ever ask to me dkjfhdf that's so wild. I am so honored that you saw me as an older person you could come and talk to, even if it was just through anonymous tumblr asks for the past 6+ years lol. I always think of you fondly too, and I am so proud of you for the way you've grown up and grown into your confidence

ALSO YOU CAN TOTALLY SEND ME YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA djfdjdsjkf you can absolutely send me any of your socials!!! I know your main blog because you've sent some asks without it (have I ever remembered to follow it??? I meant to but I can't remember, this is also a Brain Forget-y Accidental Procrastination thing), but I would LOVE to see your art sideblog and def feel free to send me your twitter!! I have not opened my twitter in like. 3 months, because i was having Unhealthy Habits so i tucked the app into a pocket out of site and stopped using it for a while, but I am doing better now and would definitely open it back up more often again to see what you were up to

Also!!! You can always feel free to DM me on any of my blogs/sideblogs here on tumblr, too! You don't have to wait to send an ask (though I love receiving asks from you, don't ever feel like you have to stop even if we connect elsewhere!), you can always DM me on any of my blogs (or on any other socials we may exchange, too!)

[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part VI

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, mention of blackmail, all characters are adults.

Words: 1567.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

________

You spent the rest of your evening like a somnambulist, barely able to concentrate on your projects before you went to bed, barely finishing half of the things you planned for today. Even the change of locks didn't make you as happy as you thought it would. It felt like something between a dream and a nightmare.

Lying in the dark, you stared at the ceiling, thinking of what happened just a couple of hours ago. Why did he do it? Was it just out of habit and didn’t mean anything? Naturally, with his appearance and easy-going attitude, he probably dated many girls and didn’t think much before kissing someone he liked.

Remembering the way he talked to you in the morning, you thought he must have pretended to be shy around you. Thor certainly wasn’t sheepish.

Was it all a sham? Was Loki right about all of them, playing their roles to get close to you? You couldn’t forget the way Thor looked the moment he told you about being smart. It was like something switched inside him, and for a second you saw the real Thor who was far from being your simple, good-natured athlete.

Why did you keep thinking about that stupid kiss even after seeing the man could be dangerous?

Aroused and angry, you tossed and turned until you fell asleep.

____________

Waking up was especially tough, despite the fact you didn't really do much yesterday, meaning you were going to spend your weekend studying. Shoot, and that's when you planned to visit that new chocolate boutique in the city. Maybe you could still make it if you spent more time studying today?

But then again, going to the city alone might be a bad idea. Even if the guys who stole your things were beaten, it didn't mean it had always been the same people following you. The school was full of weirdos, in the end. What if somebody went after you? Steve would definitely say you had to bring one of your guards with you.

Damn. It was better staying in the dorm then.

"Good morning! Are you ready?" Peter's voice broke through the silence, and you flinched, hurriedly applying some lipstick because you didn't have enough time to put your makeup properly.

Well, at least you were fully dressed.

"Just give me a second!" Picking up your bag, you put your shoes on and opened the door, looking at a young guy who's face was lit up like a Christmas tree. "Hi!"

He definitely liked what he saw, and you felt your cheeks growing hot from embarrassment. From the very start of the semester Peter acted very sweet around you, and you thought you could be friends with him. He wouldn't do something as ugly as blackmailing, would he? Thor said it too. Clearly, Steve was exaggerating.

"Did you sleep well? I've heard you changed your lock, so now it'll be better."

"Ugh, I hope so. But I still sleep with my dresser blocking the door." Sighing, started walking, afraid to look in the faces of other students, hurrying off to school.

They must have been disgusted, watching you being friendly with one guy after being all lovey-dovey with the other just yesterday. Although you didn't see anyone in particular, you were sure somebody saw Thor kissing you. And now you were walking the corridors with Peter.

"By the way, what's your Insta?"

What? Your Instagram? Whatever for? Although you had no idea why he needed it, you let him add you, by the time leaving the dorm and walking towards the main building.

Suddenly, Peter got pretty close, his arm on your waist as he lifted up his phone and hummed, "Look here and smile!"

Before you realized what he was doing, the boy kissed your temple, and you heard the sound of a photo being taken by his front-facing camera. What the Hell?!

"Peter!" Pissed at him, you quickly break free and stepped back, but he was already looking at his phone, editing the photo and posting it almost immediately.

You heard your phone buzz when he marked you on the photo.

"That's a good one. You look very cute here."

"What are you doing?!"

"Making a proof we're dating, of course?"

You were taken aback by the sincerity in his voice, and Peter smiled from ear to ear like an excited teenager, showing you the picture: it wasn't that bad, and you looked as if you were slightly embarrassed by Peter's closeness. Oh, of course. He had to convince his friends he was dating you, but he didn't kiss you on the lips that could make other people too suspicious. Instead, friends of Barnes or, say, Thor, would still think it was all for show, and it was their friend who dated you for real.

Shit, Steve's plan was incredibly complicated, and you didn't like it at all.

"Oh, alright." You mumbled, lowering your eyes to the ground, and Peter laughed.

"We'll make a TikTok dance later. If you wanna make people talk, just use your social media." He winked at you and put the phone in the pocket of his pants, resuming walking, and you moved along, your face still hot.

God, what did these guys got you into? You felt like you were lost in the middle of a play, not even having a script to read what was your role in all this.

Before you parted your ways, going to a different classrooms, Peter talked about videogames, the upcoming Resident Evil - apparently, his favorite franchise - and some Dota tournament, but you didn't know much about it, and Peter offered to show you his favorite games "because you can't spend all your time studying!"

He was as careless and sweet as always, but you couldn't get Steve's words out of your mind. Damn, if only you could know for sure that Peter didn't blackmail anyone. Who could you talk to about it? Obviously, not Peter himself, but every time he spoke you had that nagging feeling you needed to talk to him. You barely kept your mouth shut before he went to a different room.

Ugh, why didn't you transfer anywhere else when you still had a chance? Obviously, now you could only drop out of school, and it definitely wasn't something you were going to do.

Luckily, the next couple of hours you were busy with your classes, trying your best to prepare for the upcoming exams. The academy held high standards, and even though you were a good student, it still took lots of efforts to keep up the good work. How Thor even managed to get enrolled, judging by the fact he hated studying and often skipped classes?

Ah yes, he mentioned something about getting a scholarship from the academy for his success in the sport.

By the lunch time you were drained, listening to Peter chatting with an absent-mindedly epxression on your face. Funny enough, Peter's grades were better than yours, even though he spent much less time studying. What, was he some genius like Loki? You felt a little envy.

"I gotta go take my tracksuit, I have PE next," the boy said, and you nodded, throwing away the leftovers of your lunch.

As you stood close while he grabbed his sportclothes, you heard two guys talking behind the lockers to your right.

"Have you seen her today? She's with Parker!"

You tensed immediately. Of course, they were talking about you.

"Yeah, so what?"

"She was with Thor yesterday!"

Watching you froze on the spot, Peter stilled too, listening carefully. Oh shit, you hoped no one cared about who you went with - why should they, in the end - but, apparently, you were drawing too much attention simply because you were a girl among hundreds of male students.

"So what?" The other guy asked impatiently, growing tired of this conversation.

"Are you stupid? She's going out with them! I bet she's looking for a guy." The first student said with excitement, and you cringed. No, you weren't going out with anyone, you wanted to stop the weirdos from following you and steeling your things. Was it too much to ask?

"Yeah, who cares?"

"We have three fucking girls in the whole school, and you don't care if one of them could be going out with you? Besides, this one's pretty. I'd fuck her!"

You felt like you were going to puke any moment. Why on Earth did you decide to transfer to an all-boys school? It was like the whole school were a men’s room filled with stupid-ass guys, and you were locked inside, forced to listen them talk junk.

"You'd fuck a sheep, weirdo. Go get yourself a girlfriend if you can’t stop thinking with your dick.”

Laughing, the guy left, and his friend followed him, shouting something stupid while you breathed out a sigh of relief. Of course, you knew there would be some talk, but you didn’t expect it to be so... gross. Were you really gonna spend the two remaining years here?

Watching you getting frustrated, Peter gently touched you by the arm and said softly, “Don’t worry. They won’t talk rubbish about you.”

“What do you mean?” Suddenly thinking of Steve’s words, you blurted out exactly what you were thinking of the whole day, “Are you going to blackmail them with something?”

“I... what?”

Part VII

__________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic @mariatietacapitu @d3monslust @maybesandohnos @ibeatuptwinks @mangobangi

[meruz]

once again i am answering asks in a big compilation post. included is... gotham, patrick stump, tips about drawing backgrounds, tips about drawing in general, links to my faq, and infinity train

like.... the tv series? No... I’ve drawn dc comics fanart before, though. But it’s been years since I’ve been really into it. I like jumped ship like 10 years ago when the New 52 happened LOL.

AFJHDSLKGH I’m sorry I (probably) won’t do it again??

Actually full disclosure I have a truly cringe amount of p stump drawings/photo studies in my sketchbook right now LOL. He’s just fun to draw... hats, glasses, guitar, a good shape... but I don’t think I’ll rly post those until I can hide them in another big sketchbook pdf.. probably Jan 2022. Stay tuned........ (ominous) 

(ominous preview)

These are all sort of related to backgrounds/painting so I grouped them together even though they’re pretty much entirely separate questions.... ANYWAYS

a) How is it working as a BG artist? Is it hard? What show are you drawing for?

I think you’re the first person to ever ask me about my job! Being a background artist is great. It’s definitely labor intensive but I think that could describe pretty much any art job (If something were rote or easy to automate, you wouldn’t hire an artist to do it) and I hesitate to say whether its harder or easier than any other role in the animation pipeline. Plus, so much of what truly makes a job difficult varies from one production to the next, schedule, working environment, co-workers etc. But I will say that I think while BGs are generally a lot of work on the upfront, I think they’re subject to less scrutiny/revisions than something like character/props/effects design and you don’t have to pitch them to a room like boards. So I guess it’s good if you don’t like to talk to people? LOL

A lot of my previous projects + the show I’ve worked on the longest aren’t public yet so I can’t talk about em (but I assure you if/when the news does break I won’t shut up about it). But I’m currently working on Archer Season 12 LOL. I’m like 90% sure I’m allowed to say that.

b) ~~~THANK YOU!! ~~~

c) What exactly do you like to draw most [in a background]?

@kaitomiury​ Lots of stuff! I really like to draw clutter! Because it’s a great opportunity for environmental storytelling and also you can be kind of messy with it because the sheer mass will supersede any details LOL. 

I like to draw clouds... I like to draw grass but not trees lol,,, I like to draw anything that sells perspective really easily like tiled floors and ceilings, shelves, lamp posts on a street etc.

d) Do you have any tips on how to paint (observational)?

god there’s so much to say. painting is really a whole ass discipline like someone can paint their whole life and still discover new things about it. I guess if you’re really just starting out my best advice is that habit is more important than product. especially with traditional plein air painting, I find that the procedure of going outside and setting up your paints is almost harder than the actual painting. There’s a lot of artists who say “I want to do plein air sometime!!” and then never actually get around to doing it. A lot of people just end up working from google streetview or photos on their computer.

But going outside to paint is a really good challenge because it forces you to make and commit to lighting and composition decisions really quickly. And to work through your mistakes instead of against them via undo button.

My last tip is to check out James Gurney’s youtube channel because hes probably the best and most consistent resource on observational painting out there rn. There’s lots other artists doing the same thing (off the top of my head I know a lot of the Warrior Painters group has people regularly posting plein air stuff and lightbox expo had a Jesse Schmidt lecture abt it last year) but Gurney’s probably the most prolific poster and one of the best at explaining the more technical stuff - his books are great too.

e) Do you have tips for drawing cleanly on heavypaint?

@marigoldfool​ UMM LOL I LIKE ONLY USE THE FILL TOOL so maybe use the fill tool? Fill and rectangle are good for edge control as opposed to the rest of the heavy paint tools which can get sort of muddles. And also I use a stylus so maybe if you’re using your finger, find a stylus that works with your device instead. That’s all I’ve got, frankly I don’t think my drawings are particularly clean lol.

f) Tips on improving backgrounds/scenes making them more dynamic practicing etc?

Ive given some tips about backgrounds/scenes before so I’m not gonna re-tread those but here’s another thing that might be helpful...

I think a good way to approach backgrounds is to think of the specific story or even mood you want to convey with the background first. Thinking “I just need to put something behind this character” is going to lead you to drawing like... a green screen tourist photo backdrop. But if you think “I need this bg to make the characters feel small” or “I need this bg to make the world feel colorful” then it gives you requirements and cues to work off of.

If I know a character needs to feel overwhelmed and small, then I know I need to create environment elements that will cage them in and corner them. If a character needs to feel triumphant/on top of the world then I know I need to let the environment open up around them. etc. If I know my focal point/ where I want to draw attention, I can build the background around that.

Also, backgrounds like figure compositions will have focal points of their own and you can draw attention to it/ the relationship the characters have with the bg element via scale or directionality or color, any number of cues. I think of it almost as a second/third character in a scene.

Not every composition is gonna have something so obvious like this but it helps me to think about these because then the characters feel connected and integrated with the environment.

Some more general art questions

a) Do you have any process/tips to start drawing character/bodies/heads?

I tried to kind of draw something to answer this but honestly this is difficult for me to answer because I don’t think I’m that great at drawing characters LOL. Ok, I think I have two tips.

1) flip your canvas often. A lot about what makes human bodies look correct and believable is symmetry and balance. Even if someone has asymmetrical features, the body will often pull and push in a way to counterbalance it. we often have inherent biases to one side or another like dominant hands dominant eyes etc. you know how right-handed artists will often favor drawing characters facing 45 degrees facing (the artist’s) left? that’s part of it. so viewing your drawing flipped even just to evaluate it helps compensate for that bias and makes you more aware of balance.

2) draw the whole figure often. I feel like a lot of beginner artists (myself included for a long time) defer to just drawing headshots or busts because it’s easier, you dont have to think about posing limbs etc. But drawing a full body allows you to better gauge proportion, perspective, body language, everything that makes a character look believable and grounded.

Like if you (me) have that issue where you draw the head too big and then have to resize it to fit the proportions of the rest of the body, it’s probably because you (I) drew the head first and are treating the body as an afterthought/attachment. Sketching out the whole figure first or even just quick drawing guides for it will help you think of it more holistically. I learned this figure drawing in charcoal at art school LOL.

oh. third mini tip - try to draw people from life often! its the best study. if you can get into a figure drawing/nude drawing class EVEN BETTER and if you have a local college/art space/museum that hosts those for free TREASURE IT AND TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT, that’s a huge boon that a lot of artists (me again) wish they had. though if youre not so lucky and youre sitting in a park trying to creeper draw people and they keep moving.. don’t let that stop you! that’s good practice because it’s forcing you to work fast to get the important stuff down LOL. its a challenge!

b) I’ve been pretty out of energy and have had no inspiration to draw but I have the desire to. Any advice?

Dude, take a walk or something.... Or a nap? Low energy is going to effect everything else so you gotta hit that problem at its source.

If you’re looking for inspiration though, I’d recommend stuff like watching a movie, reading a book, playing video games etc. Fill up your idea bank with content and then give yourself time/space to gestate it into new concepts. Sometimes looking at other art works but sometimes it can work against you because it’s too close. 

Also something that helps me is remembering that art doesn’t always have to be groundbreaking... like it’s okay to make something shitty and stupid that you don’t post online and only show to your friend. That’s all part of the process imo. If you want to hit a home run you gotta warm up first, right? Sports.

I should probably compile everytime i give tips on stuff like this but that’s getting dangerously close to being a social media artist who makes stupid boiled down art tutorials for clout which is the last thing i want to be... the thing I want to stress is that art is a whole visual language and there are widely agreed upon rules and customs but they exist in large part to be broken. Like there's an infinite number of ways to reach an infinite number of solutions and that’s actually what makes it really cool and personal for both the artist and the viewer. So when you make work you like or you find someone else’s work you like, take a step back and ask yourself what about it speaks for you, what about it works for you, what makes it effective, how to recreate that effect and how to break that effect completely, etc. And have a good time with it or else what’s the point.

for the first 2, I direct you to my FAQ

For the last one, I don’t actually believe I’ve ever addressed artwork as insp for stories/rp but I’ll say here and now yeah go ahead! As long as you’re not making profit or taking credit for my work then I’m normally ok with it. Especially anything thats private and purely recreational, that’s generally 100% green light go. I only ask that if you post it anywhere public that you please credit me.

(and I reserve the right to ask you to take it down if I see it and don’t approve of it’s use but I think that case is pretty rare.)

a) @lemuelzero101 Thank you!!! I haven’t played Life is Strange but actually  that series’ vis dev artist Edouard Caplain is one of my bigger art inspirations lately so that’s a really high compliment lol. And yeah I hope we get 5-8 too...!

b) Thank you for sticking around! I’ve been thinking about Digimon and Infinity Train in tandem lately, actually. They’re a little similar? Enter a dangerous alternate world and have wacky adventures with monsters/inanimate objects that have weird powers... there’s like weird engineers and mechanisms behind the scenes... also frontier literally starts with them getting on a train. Anyways if anyone else followed me for digimon... maybe you’d like Infinity Train? LOL

c) @king-wens-king I’M GLAD MY ART JUST HAS PINOY VIBES LOL I hope you are having a good day too :^)

a, b, c, d) yessss my Watch Infinity Train agenda is working....

e) aw thank you!! i think you should watch infinity train :)

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

not allowed iv, m | jjk, myg

pairing(s): est. poly relationship – jungkook x reader x yoongi

summary: Your boyfriends woke up and chose violence. Excuse me, Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi? Do you really think you can post one after another on Twitter, send the world into heart palpitations, and not expect your girlfriend to do something about it? Hmm?!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of the pandemic; reader and Yoongi have giant heart eyes whenever they see each other; feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, nipple play, f and m-receiving oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, m-masturbation, double penetration/spit roasting); idol!BTS

that’s right JK posted his blue hair and i absolutely lost it part of ‘not allowed’ series, but can be read alone. basic summary: your boyfriend asked JJK to fuck you, then again, and then they decided to make this a thing; based on real time.

--

Your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.

Everything was fine. You were on your lunch break, sitting in your kitchen, knowing you would have to get back to work soon. A quick meal and scrub of the dishes left you with you a few minutes to check your phone. You didn’t get many messages throughout the day and you preferred it that way. You took a moment to scroll through social media.

Only to choke a little seeing Jeon Jungkook, the Golden Maknae of BTS, reveal his dark blue locks to the world in the middle of the damn day. Did you almost drop your phone? Yes. Did you not because it was the special edition BTS S20+? Also, yes. The TinyTan SUGA phone case would have protected it anyway, but… still.

You placed your phone aside and went back to your computer, ready to attend work again.

Not quite composed, but it was just a picture, just a picture, just a picture…

Except you knew what Jungkook looked like naked and that wasn’t helping.

Three hours later, you snuck a glance at your phone only to be attacked by the cutest human being in the world, Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, sometimes Agust D, all the time lil meow meow because, holy shit, why the fuck was this man so cute? Those damn cheeks. Those eyes. Fuck, you loved his eye shape. And his pretty lips. Damnnit, why couldn’t you kiss him right now?

They’re trying to kill you and ARMY all at once. 

You’re convinced.

You rubbed your temples and took a deep breath.

It is only a coincidence. It doesn’t involve you. They’re only being their usual adorable, attractive selves and giving a gift to the fans. You weren’t delusional. It was their job to do things like this. You knew this and you were used to it. You’ve seen Yoongi say all kinds of things in V-LIVEs and you always thought it was funny. Lately, he hadn’t been responding to them much though. As for Jungkook, well.

Everyone in the world wanted Jungkook, including you, so could you blame the world? No.

Jungkook tried to tell you before that he was shy and you recalled all those see-through shirts he’d worn on stage. All those ab reveals. Hmm, you weren’t fooled.

“I wanted to make sure you were looking at me, noona,” Jungkook had teased you, hooking his arms around your waist. “I had to get your attention somehow.”

Yeah, yeah, your attention and millions of other people.

It made you laugh, until he became your boyfriend, and now it made you choke on air like every other human being who saw him looking that good. Before you had the safety of giving your full attention to Yoongi. Yoongi had always been your priority and you wanted to make sure he felt that way.

Little by little.

Jungkook grew up.

And became harder and harder to ignore.

Even more difficult when Yoongi gave him the apartment key and told him to fuck you in his stead.

You heard your phone ping. You checked your messages, saving your work in the process.

That will teach you to post such sexy pictures.

You twitched. Excuse me? What was Jungkook talking about? Your personal, private Instagram was for expressing your – sometimes eccentric – fashion sense. Was he referring to the images you posted for Valentine’s Day, the ones with the white vinyl coat, red stockings, and sky-high red heels? Hmph. You couldn’t even see your face in those. Actually, you deliberately cut off most of your face in all of your pictures. The most you showed were your lips, always painted to match your outfit. You didn’t want anyone to recognize you, even by happenstance.

Made taking pictures much easier, since you never had to do eye makeup or worry about accidentally making ugly faces.

It was private now, but it wasn’t before, and the only reason you privated it was because you started dating Yoongi. You still wanted it use it as an outlet though, so you left it as is, with your follower count unchanging. It wasn’t that many people to begin with and you were pretty sure a lot of the accounts were bots.

In any case, sometimes you felt like being creative and dressing up, thus you did so on Instagram. You couldn’t dress like that when you went to visit Yoongi. Ah, and now Jungkook too. To be honest, you loved fashion and trying on different looks, but it wasn’t possible unless you were alone. And you were alone a lot, with no one but strangers to appreciate (or be confused by) it.

Might as well take a picture, right?

And if you could tease Yoongi a little, at least from a distance, that was even better.

You forgot Jungkook also followed you now though. 

Dammit. 

Had the photos been sexy? Sure. Provocative, lots of leg, almost a peek of ass but not quite. Red lips to stand out against the white. If the coat was black, it would have been more traditionally fetishist, but that's why you had picked shiny white vinyl. Brighter for the cute holiday. 

Who are you kidding? You wore it to provoke Yoongi.

He texted you after you posted it. Usually, he said things along the lines of, pretty, cute, you look crazy, I like it. Only sometimes did he say...

what the fuck

You had asked him if he liked your post today. 

I'm not trying to pop a boner in the middle of practice, control yourself woman.

Maybe don't post such cute selfies then, you had thought. Then your phone pinged again. 

Send a picture with the coat open. Jungkook wants to see. 

Oh, so now that the maknae was involved, he was going to pin things on the younger one. Two can play at this game. You sent the photo to Jungkook first. You knew that if the situation was reversed, Yoongi would have done the same. Jungkook's reaction had been hilarious.

Noona?! WHAT???

And then a slew of head exploding emojis.

Yoongi had been agitated until you finally sent him the picture too. It had been a fun incident.

Until your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.

Dammit. 

You stared at blue-haired Jungkook and 'Blue and Grey' Yoongi from the MTV Unplugged performance. 

This just wasn’t allowed. 

-

This visit had a purpose, but then you saw Min Yoongi standing in the hallway waiting for you, wearing an olive-green shirt, hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants, small smile on his lips. Purring your name lovingly after you closed the door, and you realized you missed him so very much, his lovely dark brown eyes and dark hair, and then you were suddenly in his arms and he was hugging you. 

With both arms. 

Yoongi was recovering well and he still couldn't do strenuous activity yet, but he was hugging you with both arms and you wanted to cry because it was so nice to have them both around you. You could've been cool and collected, yet somehow both you and Yoongi had the same idea to first hug and breathe in each other, his fresh, woodsy scent strongly invading your nose and his soft cheek against yours.

"You smell different."

"Do you like it?" you mumbled into his neck, kissing it lightly. 

"Mhm."

You thought it had worn off by now, but the new perfume you had purchased lingered far longer than you imagined, clinging to your hair. Warm spiced sweetness with a hint of sharp smoke. Yoongi inhaled deeply beside you.

"You should wear more perfume," he murmured, hands kneading your waist.

"Someone might notice."

"Nah, your taste similar enough to mine."

He was taking off your coat and you were stepping out of your shoes, being pulled deeper into the apartment, and now his kisses were yours, soft and light, every one saying, I missed you, I want you, I love you. There no need for words when it was Min Yoongi. Fingers tapping down your waist, pulling your oversized black shirt up and over your head. 

"Excuse me?"

You pooped your head out to see Yoongi staring at your chest, jaw dropped and eyes wide. Oh, right. You had been so occupied with hugs and kisses that you almost forgot. Your shirt fluttered to the floor, forgotten.

You smirked. 

"Surprise."

Yoongi made a face at you. Somewhere between angry, aroused, and shock. Good. Serves you right for posting such a cute selfie.

The front door opened. 

Both of you instantly moved, you sliding behind him and into the bedroom, Yoongi standing in front of you, masking your frame. The discarded shirt and jacket could be explained away – that's why you wore oversized men's clothes, usually in Yoongi's preferred color palette.

"Hyung?"

Oh, whew. Actually, wait. No, this was danger. 

"Ah, Jungkookie."

Yoongi placed his hand on your arm and you popped your head over the corner once you heard the door close. Yup. A swift shake of dark blue locks, white sweatshirt and loose black sweatpants, and that mischievous smirk with a wrinkle of his nose. 

Danger.

"Hey, noona!"

Damnnit, planning for two is hard! You couldn't just go put your shirt on and do the grand reveal again. Yoongi grasped your upper arm with his right hand and yanked you from the doorframe. You squeaked, body stumbling into Jungkook’s view.

"Did you plan this?" Yoongi asked with a cocked brow. 

Jungkook's eyes went wide. 

"Uh... no, but I like where this is going," Jungkook replied, smirk growing. 

The black lace bra stood out against your skin, strappy and elegant, molding to the swells of your breasts and the curve downward to your waist, matching the garter belt that disappeared into the black jeans you were wearing. You didn't usually wear lingerie. It wasn't practical and if you accidentally left something behind... it wasn't worth the risk. Yoongi and you took every precaution to not fuck this up. 

Therefore, you only wore lingerie on your private Instagram. 

Only showing little flashes, never the whole picture. And, really, you wore it in your photos to mess with them. It made you feel nice too, so it was a win-win. This set was familiar to Yoongi and Jungkook because you had worn the red version in the original Valentine’s Day themed photos. 

Again, you didn't usually wear lingerie, but Jungkook and Yoongi couldn't just post pictures on Twitter back-to-back, two-shot you, and not expect a damn reaction. That kind of shit wasn't tolerated! On top of all that, you had to wait and get properly tested before getting here. This pandemic extended your frustrations. So, yes, fuck it, you wore the damn lingerie that made you feel the sexiest. Even if your jeans were still on, you knew you looked good. 

No one had to tell you. You checked in the mirror before you left. 

"Is this your response to my text a couple days ago?" Jungkook teased, kicking off his shoes and bounding over to you two. His dark blue hair shimmered in the light, like a night sky covered with stars, smile pure and naughty at the same time, lighting up his whole face. 

Fuck you for being hot, Jeon Jungkook!

You leaned back against Yoongi, crossing your arms under your breasts, pressing them together. Jungkook grinned, the mole underneath his lower lip winking at you. 

"Something like that," you coolly replied. Shit, there was an edge to your voice. Hopefully neither Yoongi or Jungkook picked that up.

"Hmm..." 

Jungkook pursed his lips, the tip of his pink tongue sticking out the side. Ack. You had to look away. You turned and bumped your lace-covered tits against Yoongi's chest. His dark brown orbs flickered to your breasts, sly smile on his lips. 

"This is your fault too, by the way."

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, amused. "What do you mean?"

You dropped your hands, surveying him suspiciously. "You think I don't know? Posting right after Jungkook? That's not allowed! You know what that does to me."

Yoongi leaned forward. Your breath caught in your throat, heart beating fast all of a sudden. You backed up, right into Jungkook's chest. Uh oh. Yoongi hummed, black hair shadowing his face, devious sparkle in those dangerous eyes, his voice a raspy, purring drawl. 

"What does it do to you?"

Your hand fell back to brace yourself and Jungkook's fingers wrapped around your wrist, stroking your skin. You felt him shift behind you and then his lips were on your ear, whispering in his silvery voice. 

"Yeah, noona. Tell us.” His grip on your wrist tightened, squeezing lightly, asserting his presence behind you. “Or you can show us."

...

!!!

How dare they tag team you? First, they visually attack you – and millions of other ARMY – in the middle of the workday, and now this, Yoongi closing in, kissing you once more, deeper, hungrier, with dark intent, smirking against your lips as Jungkook took both your hands, ghosting his long fingers over yours. You whimpered into Yoongi's mouth, body tensing, Jungkook pressing himself into your back, breath against your hair. 

"You smell different," he murmured.

You couldn't reply. Yoongi was sucking on your tongue, making you whine. 

"Warm, sweet, and spicy."

Yoongi released you and you gasped for air, bucking into Jungkook's crotch. "I bought it last week... thought it smelled nice..."

Jungkook nuzzled your hair. "I like it. Makes me horny."

You laughed a little, turning your hands around in his to lace your fingers together. He held your hands firmly, grinding his crotch into your ass. You could already feel his arousal through your jeans.

"Sounds dangerous," you mused. 

"It is," Yoongi chuckled. "But you should keep wearing it anyway. You smell good."

Heat rose to your cheeks. Then you realized your jeans were already undone, being daintily pushed down by deft hands and an amused expression, Yoongi crouching to pull them along. Bit by bit, revealing the matching garter belt, the high-cut black lace panties that framed your thighs, and lace-topped sheer stockings, all the straps emphasizing your softness, sinking into your thighs and ass.

"Fuck..." Yoongi breathed, running his fingertips over the delicate fabric, touch so light against your skin, dancing up your knee. "You're so fucking beautiful."

He looked up at you, eyes so dark they seemed black, playful smirk on those perfect pink lips. Thump. You felt Jungkook pull your arms back and press them to his sides. You grabbed fistfuls of Jungkook’s shirt, staring down at Yoongi advancing between your legs, his smirk growing wider and more teasing, lovely voice low and husky, deep with arousal.

"What's the matter?" Yoongi purred. "Cat got your tongue?"

Your body tensed in anticipation, Jungkook's hands crawling around your sides, one tattooed, one not, fingers hovering over your now trembling chest. Looking down at Yoongi's smug expression, tongue flicking out and teasing you. Reminding you how good he was and how long you'd been waiting. 

Fuck you for being hot, Min Yoongi!

"Don't overexert yourself..." you breathed.

A sculpted brow lifted. 

"I have help now," he reminded you and Jungkook's hands sank into your barely-covered breasts. 

"Fuck..." Jungkook hissed into your ear, running his palms over your nipples, listening to your gasps as Yoongi dived between your thighs, hot tongue sliding against the lace. "Missed these tits so fucking much." His lips on your ear, growling your name, that dominant edge to his silvery voice, tweaking the hardened nubs while Yoongi teased your clothed clit with his tongue, the lace hardly a barrier but still an effective one, the rough threads plucking against your sensitive nerves.

How long had it been? So long, almost forever since Yoongi’s tongue was on you, soft and fast and the perfect pressure, deliberately teasing you and not moving the fabric aside, so close yet so far. If it wasn’t Yoongi, maybe you could tell him to move it, maybe you could beg, but you couldn’t speak because of Yoongi’s tongue and Jungkook’s rough touch, his hands on your breasts, pushing them together, your nipples poking tiny tents in the black lace, running his fingertips over them over and over, his hips grinding into your ass. Yoongi cupped one of your ass cheeks and spread them, your panties bunching in the center, Jungkook’s hardness slipping in, still covered by his sweatpants.

Wetter, hotter, sanity slipping little by little.

“Y-Yoongi… J-Jungkook…”

You tried not to shove your hips in Yoongi’s face, not wanting to strain his neck, and ended up pushing back instead, bouncing against Jungkook’s cock. The younger man snickered, nipping at your ear, pinching your nipples, and you felt a slick squelch as Yoongi’s tongue pushed the lace into your dripping pussy. The moans dragged out of your throat, eyelids fluttering, letting them do whatever they wanted, pleasure flooding all your senses, watching Yoongi wreck you, clutching Jungkook’s sweatshirt, panting their names, leaking more and more, the scent of your juices getting stronger and sweeter.

“This isn’t fair…” you panted. “I’m going c-crazy…”

Yoongi hummed on your clit and you cried out, hips rocking, so good, head tipping onto Jungkook’s broad shoulder, his long blue hair brushing against your cheek and eyelashes.

“Good, because you make us crazy,” Jungkook muttered, pushing your breasts together and squeezing them roughly. His voice was so deep you could feel your back vibrate with his words. His other hand came up and gripped your chin, trailing down and fitting around your neck, the loose sleeve falling and revealing his forearm tattoos, contrasting your lace-covered skin. “Always looking so fucking pretty and making me want to fuck you…”

His index finger came up and pressed against your lower lip. Those chocolatey eyes were watching your face from his peripheral vision, smirking as he witnessed your expression.

“Even showing off these sexy, fuckable lips. That’s not fair either, noona.”

“T-That’s not…”

Jungkook’s hand at your throat dropped and you yelped, his large palm fitting around your right thigh and lifting it up, fingers sinking in. Stockings, lace, garter, Jungkook’s touch, holding your leg up and out, giving Yoongi a perfect view of your glistening core. Then there was more, too much more, Yoongi pushing aside your panties, soaked fabric snapping against the inside of your thigh and then his mouth was directly on you, oh, fuck, his tongue on your throbbing clit, lips wrapped around it, pure suffocating ecstasy, your slick juices dripping down his chin, so easy, it was just too easy for Yoongi to make you feel so fucking good and he looked so sexy doing it too, those cat-like eyes piercing into you, ordering you to cum for him, to spill all over his beautiful face.

“Yoongi… fuck, your tongue is so fucking good–”

Your body rippled with pleasure and you flung your head to the side, away from Jungkook’s ear to moan far too loud, filling up the entire hallway, wanton and lewd, absolutely pornographic and sinful in nature, orgasm gushing into Yoongi’s waiting mouth, shuddering against Jungkook’s hard body. So many sensations, too many sensations. Yoongi sank his nails into your ass, growling as he sucked out your cum and drank it, Jungkook grinding his stiff length in between your ass cheeks, spreading your leg so far that your left one was quivering with strain, tits squashed in Jungkook’s left hand, his warm tongue on your ear, whispering darkly. Dirty, sensual, and your pussy couldn’t stop throbbing, Min Yoongi’s mouth and Jeon Jungkook’s low octave driving you insane.

“You look so fucking good, noona. Your body is so fucking perfect, so sexy wrapped up in lace,” he exhaled, sliding his palm over your nipples roughly, earning more depraved moans. He lowered your leg, slowly, Yoongi lapping at your clit, sending shocks of pleasure up your torso as he cleaned you off. Jungkook’s hand slid down over your stomach, flicking the straps against your skin, small snaps of pain that made you gasp, trapped in Jungkook’s power, letting him take over you. He took a step back, forcing you to arch your spine and look up at him, a curtain of cobalt surrounding that handsome face and those intense brown eyes.

No one could make you feel the way Yoongi made you feel. No one.

So...

Why did staring up at Jungkook like this do things to you? Why did it put your heart on a string and tension in your throat? Get it together. You weren't a teenager. Ask for what you want. He was just so insanely attractive in every way.

Jungkook smirked and you wanted him to ruin you. 

He lifted you up easily. You saw Yoongi standing up and wiping his chin, self-satisfied and amused. He tilted his head and plucked one of the straps on your stomach, a light, erotic sting. Yoongi made eye contact with you, locking you in his gaze. A single look, and your heart was fluttering, immediately smitten. One by one, fingers wrapping around a few of the straps and pulling you to him, backing up, leading you to the bed by own your lingerie. 

"Why today?" Yoongi drawled, tracing the curve of the bra cup, sending shivers over your skin. "Feeling risky?"

You raised a brow, focusing on him, trapped in those cat-like eyes. 

"Control yourself. Aren't you used to this body by now?"

Yoongi grinned devilishly, darting closer, leaving you breathless in his speed. The scent of his cologne and your orgasm lingered on his skin, a delicious combination. 

"Never."

Kissing you, taking your startled inhale, and you could taste yourself, fuck, just something about his skilled lips and your taste had your fingers twisting into Yoongi's shirt, rolling your body into his, still being so careful, but it was so hard because he was making it so hard, teasing you with that deft tongue, bursts of pleasure with every heartbeat you had while captured in Yoongi's lips. You missed it, this intensity, the overwhelming feeling that Yoongi gave you, being able to give in to the want, but you still couldn't give in without abandon, but you were so close. 

So close. 

Ruin me. 

He pushed you lightly and you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, the kiss suddenly broken, but the second touch was familiar now, one tattooed arm, one not, and you knew that if you fell, these arms could catch you.

Jungkook put you in his lap, your back touching his bare chest. Oh, shit. Before you could think much about it, he turned you so you were laying in his arms princess-style. He must have removed his sweatshirt while you were talking to Yoongi, but he still wearing his pants, now sitting in the side of the bed, blue hair messy from your hands and the removal of his clothes. Your arms hooked around his neck instinctively, not wanting to fall, but he had his right hand splayed across your shoulder blades, holding you up securely. 

"Mmm, this is nice," Jungkook murmured, playfully smiling. He nuzzled your nose, tongue flicking over your lips. "Why did you make us wait so long, hm?"

You frowned, breath against his chin. "The number of cases got higher... and you all were so busy... I couldn't get tested until recently."

Jungkook made a disgruntled noise. 

"Hey, public health and safety is important."

He pouted at you. "But..."

"He's horny and wants to fuck," Yoongi cut in.

"Hyung…!"

Yoongi pulled up his chair and sat down, looking amused. 

"He's been jacking off to your pictures."

"N-no, I haven't!"

"Really? I have."

Yoongi's face was completely neutral. It was hard to tell if he was lying or not. 

Jungkook tried to hide his flushed face with your hair. "... M-Maybe I h-have..."

"Tsk, tsk, naughty Jungkookie," you teased.

"Noona..."

"And you?"

You felt Yoongi grasp your chin, tipping you back in Jungkook's arms. Some of your hair fell over your eyes, hazing your vision of Yoongi. Even so, his intent was obvious. You could feel it in his gaze, the burning hunger, his fingertips caressing your chin, leaning forward slightly to observe you. 

I want to ruin you. 

Yoongi didn't have to say it. You knew it, pierced by the predatory glint in his eyes. You could tell he missed this, could tell that he wanted to give in to his desires, wanted to lose control, only limited by his own physical body.

However. 

He pressed his thumb into your lower lip, lifting a brow. 

Jungkook was here now.

Yoongi gave you his trademark open-mouthed smirk. 

"Ruin me," you whispered, staring into those cat-like dark brown eyes. The recognition was instant, pleased that you knew what he wanted. You shifted your attention to the maknae, his chocolate eyes wide, watching your tongue slide out and licking Yoongi's thumb. "Ruin me, Jungkook."

You loved the way Jungkook could turn from blushing anxiousness to sly confidence, and all it took was your words and the way you said them, enabling him in the best way possible. The dark blue hair helped accented the shift in demeanor, creating cool-toned shadows over his lightly tanned skin. 

"Anything for you," Jungkook purred.

You gasped sharply as you felt two fingers slide into you, Jungkook’s thumb rubbing your overstimulated clit. Your body jerked, trying to get away, but Yoongi's hand on your chin slid down, pressing on your chest, holding you still, your name a dangerous rasp from Yoongi's lips.

"Stay still."

Your eyes flickered down. Right hand. Okay. You shouldn’t be worried anymore, but you were. It was habit.

"Yoon–ah!"

You gasped, left arm firmly behind Jungkook's shoulders and the other behind you, your hand on the bed to steady your balance as Yoongi shoved the bra cups down, exposing your breasts. He lowered his head, the contact of his lips on your hot skin paired with Jungkook's thrust of his fingers into your pussy. Instant waves of pleasure overtook you, fingers sinking into the sheets and Jungkook’s hair, fuck, his beautiful navy hair standing out against your skin and, for some reason, seeing that made you feel prettier, thrusting your chest in Yoongi’s face to get more into his mouth, spreading your legs wide to give Jungkook more access.

Only a brief moment of, I should know better, I shouldn’t be doing this, and then Yoongi’s eyes were on you, tongue flicking your red nipple.

Let go.

Was this even fair to them? Could you satisfy both? Could you and should you? But Yoongi’s eyes were telling you to let go, to chase the feeling, to give in, and hunt the desperation and the want. They wanted you. There was nothing like this and there will never be anything like this again.

“Give it to me,” Yoongi growled.

You whined sharply as you felt two more fingers push into you, but not Jungkook’s fingers, Yoongi’s fingers, his thumb joining Jungkook’s on your clit and your eyes rolled back, so wet and aroused from knowing both Jungkook’s and Yoongi’s fingers were thrusting into you, four in total, your pussy sucking them in, back arching as Yoongi sucked on your nipple. So much pleasure, rapidly ascending higher and higher, so fucking full and tight that their fingers were making sloppy smacking sounds, matching rhythm so they filled you completely together, all at once.

You couldn’t stop your hips from meeting them, fingers spreading out in Jungkook’s hair and the sheets as you came hard, gasping their names, euphoria soaring through your nerves, and still they didn’t stop even though your pussy was violently spasming, creating a messy splatter of your juices on the inside of your thighs and their hands. Instead, the pace changed, Yoongi switching sides on your chest, and then you really couldn’t think, because Jungkook was lowering his head too, and now both of your nipples were getting abused, Jungkook’s arm firmly under your upper back to hold you up, not letting you fall.

“Yoongi, Jungkook… p-please, oh fuck!”

Your other hand flew up and buried in Yoongi’s dark locks, both hands in their hair now, one blue, one black, another orgasm crashing down, moan torn from your chest. And they kept going, changing the pace again, your toes and fingers curling, every muscle tense with irresistible, consuming ecstasy that you almost felt a little numb, unable to compute anything else but your body scantily covered in lace, two mouths sucking on your nipples, four fingers stuffed into you, clit engorged and sending violent shocks throughout your system. You couldn’t even discern one orgasm from another, pussy continuously throbbing and convulsing with the continuous, chained orgasms, so wet that it was soaking the tops of your stockings, the sweet honey of your cum the predominant scent in the room.

“I… I-I can’t take a-anymore, please…”

Your legs threatened to close but Yoongi snapped his head up, snarling your name dangerously.

“One more,” he ordered. “Give us one more.”

“Your pussy feels so good,” Jungkook panted, saliva dripping down your chest. “I love it so fucking much, even when it’s around my fingers.”

You were trying to hold back, trying to control it, tensing everything, your core, your legs, your arms, and you didn’t even realize it, but you held your breath too, biting your lip and seeing Yoongi and Jungkook at the same time, both watching you, fingers punishingly squelching into your tight little hole, stretching it out unforgivingly, abused clit pulsating so hard it almost hurt, and it was exactly what you wanted, brimming, boiling pleasure that threatened you on the brink, closer, closer, closer, and the world was almost hazy with how ferociously you had constricted the coil.

“Fuck!”

You threw your head back, back abruptly arching and smacking them in the face with your tits as everything came plummeting down, resolve cracking with a wanton howl, orgasm racking through your entire frame so hard that your body lurched and flinched, Yoongi and Jungkook cradling you while you rode your high, grinding your hips into their hands and carnally moaning, liquid gushing out and dripping down your legs, your ass, down Jungkook’s sweatpants and onto the bed.

It was such an intense orgasm that you were lightheaded, hands slipping out of their hair and falling down, drained, aftershocks causing your body to shudder, even as they removed their fingers. Your clit was still throbbing, pumps of pleasure spreading through you.

It was obscene witnessing Yoongi and Jungkook cleaning their fingers off right in front of you, pink tongues sliding between the digits, licking off your viscous cum, giving you a perverse sense of satisfaction when Yoongi moaned softly and Jungkook groaned lowly, savoring your taste like a fine wine. Yoongi spied your exhausted, smug expression.

“Do you think you’re done?”

You gave him a weak smirk. “I better not be.”

“Sit in Jungkook’s lap,” Yoongi said calmly. “Face me.”

You tilted your head curiously but did as you were told, shifting your still quivering legs so your thighs were on the outside of Jungkook’s thighs, the balance a little difficult, but Yoongi took your hands and placed them around his hips. You held onto him as he lifted his shirt, pulling it over his head.

“Jungkook, rip her panties off.”

Wait, what did Min Yoongi just s–?

Two strong hands dug out the lace trapped in your ass and fastened around the thin fabric.

Riiiiiiip!

“Yoongi!”

The shirt fluffed his black hair as he removed it, dropping it onto his chair. You glared at him as Yoongi looked down at you, expression blank, dark brown orbs full of mischief.

“You knew it was going to happen. If he wasn’t going to rip it, I was.” Yoongi placed his right hand on his left shoulder. His tone dropped, mockingly rueful. “You wouldn’t want me to hurt myself, right?”

Yeah, this was why you didn’t wear lingerie.

But, also, this was why you wore it today.

You felt Jungkook tugging off the now useless pair of panties, plucking them out from under your garter belt. Oh well. You liked the red more anyway. That’s why you had bought two sets, after all.

“Remind me to take all the bits before I go,” you grumbled.

“Sure, noona.” Jungkook dangled the said lacy bits next to your head. You narrowed your eyes and mouth into slits even though he couldn’t see. “I’ll put them in my pocket.” You felt him shove them into his sweatpants.

Were you… going to remember?

Yoongi beckoned you. You shot him a warning look, still annoyed, but Yoongi pointed down to your hands on his hips.

“Isn’t there something you want?” Yoongi mused in that raspy, dark tone, the one that made your irritation fade instantly and replace it with arousal. “Take it.”

He cocked his head, shading his dark eyes with his hair, pink lips parting, the slightest hint of a smirk. Challenging you. Go on. Show me how much you want me. Your body still buzzed with the aftermath of moments before and yet you still lowered your head, sliding your hips back, sucking in a breath as your puffy pussy lips touched Jungkook’s toned chest, smearing yourself on his skin.

“Ooh, I like this,” Jungkook murmured, leaning back a little to give you space. You rocked your hips into his torso, his muscles flexing under you opening, inflamed clit brushing against his hardness. You pushed Yoongi’s pants and underwear down, dipping your head, hearing Yoongi breathe your name lustfully.

“That’s a pretty picture.”

He was only semi-hard, but he was getting harder and harder, watching you grind against Jungkook’s pecs. You knew exactly how to get him the hardest, dipping down and latching your mouth around one of his balls.

“Fuck, yes,” Yoongi gasped, his hand coming up and fitting behind your head. You sucked it into your mouth and then extended your tongue, bouncing the other with your wet muscle while sucking the first one. The first time you did this, Yoongi was literally speechless, sputtering and confused at how you could stimulate both at once and in two different ways, sucking with your lips as your tongue flicked against the other, slurping slightly to add vibration over the sensitive skin. You felt his cock swell, smacking your cheek, fully hard at the combined sensations.

“I still don’t know how you do that,” Yoongi gritted out, keeping your hair away from your face.

“Do what?” Jungkook asked behind you, one hand on your ass and squeezing it.

“She can suck one of your balls and lick the other at the same time.”

“What?!”

You yelped at the sharp sting of Jungkook’s slap to your ass.

“How come you never did that for me?” Jungkook complained, whining a little.

You tried to lift your head, but Yoongi’s hand refused to move. You make a muffled noise of distaste, but Yoongi answered for you as you switched sides.

“Have you asked?” Yoongi replied calmly, sighing in satisfaction.

“How am I supposed to know she has porn star skills?”

“Is this a discussion for right now?” you mumbled into Yoongi’s balls.

“No, because you’re supposed to be swallowing.”

“Wha–”

The second your mouth opened, Yoongi nudged his cock between your lips and you wrapped them around it, moaning as his stiff length slid down your throat, so satisfying, his taste on your tongue, so delicious that you didn’t even want to complain, you only wanted to bob your head up and down, hands on his hips. Yoongi chuckled above you, guiding your head with his right hand, left loosely by his side. You slid your lower body up and down Jungkook’s chest, your increased slickness adding more stimulation.

“Fuck, that’s so damn hot,” you heard Jungkook groan. There was a rustle of fabric and then skin on skin, his muscular arm brushing against your stocking clad thigh with every stroke.

If only you could take a picture and could see how sexy you were, blowing Yoongi with his hand behind your head, tucking the head of his cock into your throat a little deeper every time you descended, your pussy sliding up and down Jungkook’s chest, and Jungkook furiously jacking himself off while watching you suck his hyung off, feeling your slippery clit throb against his skin.

Good thing the door was locked, because of any other member walked in on this, it might have become a damn foursome.

“Close,” Yoongi panted, fingers digging into your scalp. “You want it like this?”

You hummed approvingly in your chest, increasing your pace and fucking Jungkook’s torso harder, nearing your end too, Jungkook moaning louder and pumping himself harder. So many indecent sounds, skin on skin, mouth on skin, hand on skin, moaning, crying out around Yoongi’s cock, his saliva-covered balls smacking you in the chin, you ass slapping down on Jungkook’s chest.

Hot, wet, positively sinful.

The chain reaction started with Jungkook. He came suddenly, choking on your name, shooting up your chest, warm stickiness splattering onto your skin and you squeezed your eyes shut, moaning as you came all over his chest, slippery and sweet, drenching his skin, throat muscles tightening, Yoongi whimpering your name, a rare moment of lost control as he thrust his hips into your lips, coating your throat with thick hot strings, forcing you to swallow fast, the pressure satisfying and overwhelming, gulping it all down eagerly.

You did ask to be ruined.

Just… a little more.

Your eyes were still closed, lazily licking Yoongi’s twitching length. He was panting above you, gently stroking your hair, words so soft that they were almost inaudible.

“I love you…”

You went all the way down and Yoongi groaned, your tongue flicking the top of his balls, rapid, swift laps that made his cock swell again, bending against the roof of your mouth. Yoongi chuckled, knowing exactly what you were doing.

“Still want more?”

You backed up, panting hard, Jungkook’s cum clinging to your chest and lingerie, hair a mess from Yoongi’s hand.

“Want your cock in my pussy,” you demanded hoarsely. “Want you to fuck me, Yoongi.”

He pretended to think about it. “Hmm, I don’t know…”

You got off Jungkook’s lap, snaking around the younger man’s body, crawling onto the bed, eyes on Yoongi, his intense gaze following you, enticed by your movement. On all fours, hips in the air, dropping your chest down a little, the curve of your back accentuating the roundness of your bare ass. Still in your garter belt and stockings, your bra half-off, the lowered cups pushing your breasts together invitingly. Jungkook turned his head, pink lips parting as your fingers fanned out over the sheets, one eyebrow arching gracefully.

“Jungkook in front. Yoongi behind.”

“Do… Do you want a towel or something, noona?” Jungkook asked, blinking rapidly at your assertiveness.

“I want to get fucked and I want to get fucked now, so get over here.”

“Bed’s going to be a mess,” Yoongi remarked, moving quickly, shedding his pants and going for the nightstand, taking out a condom.

“We can sleep in Jungkook’s room,” was your dry reply, yanking Jungkook’s hips towards you after he removed his sweatpants.

“Wha– ack!”

You spread his legs out in front of you, eyes roaming over his naked body, admiring it all, his legs, his abs, his pecs, covered in your drying juices, his adorable surprised face, navy curls around his chiseled cheeks, chocolate eyes round and awed at your prowess. Your hands were on his knees, breasts hanging down, breathing hard, adrenaline humming in your veins.

“You are so fucking pretty it’s unreal,” Jungkook breathed.

You grinned.

“I can’t wait for you to fuck my face.”

Jungkook grinned back at you.

You dove down, tits bouncing before becoming squashed against the bed, Jungkook’s drying cum flaking off as you wrapped your lips around one of his balls, moaning as you felt Yoongi’s hands firmly grip your hips.

“You have to help me a little,” Yoongi murmured.

“I will, hyung.”

“I mean her too,” the older man chuckled, smacking your ass playfully. Your tongue flitted out, slurping at Jungkook’s other ball from the side of your mouth as you sucked the first one, wiggling your ass at Yoongi to indicate that you heard him. Jungkook yelped, hands slamming down onto the pillows and clutching them, moaning out your name.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, holy shit…” His head hit the headboard lightly, speaking to the ceiling and maybe even the higher power himself. “H-How...? Why does it feel s-so good…?”

You felt Yoongi slide in, so easy because of all those back-to-back orgasms, and yet he still hissed at your tightness, muscles holding him firmly. You could cry with how good it felt, Yoongi finally fully inside you once again, filling you up just the way you liked, knowing how to hit your deepest spot right away, skillful and wonderful. You licked up Jungkook’s now hard length, moaning deeply as you slapped your hips back into Yoongi’s crotch. Yoongi moaned to match yours, enraptured by the feeling.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed, nails digging into your ass. “Missed you so fucking much, my love.”

“I’ll do the moving, love,” you gasped back, squeezing Yoongi’s cock inside you. You reached for Jungkook’s right hand and grabbed it, planting it on your head. “Fuck my face, Jungkook. Please. Don’t hold back until you cum.”

Jungkook bit his lip, exhaling your name. “I think I love you.”

“And I definitely love you, so please give it to me.”

You closed your lips around him and sank down, looking up at him and his sweaty dark blue hair, his blown-out pupils, his outstretched tattooed arm, so fucking hot, fuck yes you loved him, him and his body and his work ethic and his sweetness and his firmness as he obeyed your command, thrusting into your mouth from below, filling your throat with the thick head.

Perfect.

You rocked your hips back to Jungkook’s rhythm, matching him, slow at first, but gradually faster, rougher, planting your hands on the bed for balance, completely focused on clenching your core and your mouth to fit the two cocks, giving them the maximum amount of pleasure that you could offer, suffocating them with tightness. It if was obscene before, it was ten times obscener now, Yoongi’s hand on your hip, barely having to move as you smacked your ass into him, Jungkook lurching you forward with his force, clenching his jaw as he chased his release, the bed screaming for help and none of you listening.

“You’re so fucking sexy, fuck, you always make me feel so good, can’t help but want you, need you, miss you so fucking much,” Jungkook gritted out, fingers curling in your hair, desperately and viscerally whimpering out your name as you tipped your head to change the angle, the sensitive head dragging against the roof of your mouth as he buried himself in your throat. “You’re so good to me, such a soft and tight mouth, fuck.”

You arched your back a little more, Yoongi hitting you deeper, hearing him suck in a tight breath at your movement.

“Tighter,” Yoongi growled. “I’m close, come on, give it to me.”

And then he smacked your ass with his open palm, making you moan around Jungkook’s thick cock, pussy clenching around Yoongi’s entire length, and then again, smack! Control slipping with every hit, falling into Jungkook’s pace, the sheer force of his hips pushing you down on Yoongi’s cock over and over, now only focused on hollowing out your cheeks and gripping Yoongi’s cock, the sudden twitching indicating that Yoongi was close, so close, holding out a little so he could watch you longer, torturing you just the way you liked, but he couldn’t hold out for long because you didn’t let him, walls pulsating around him brutally as you came, stuffed so full that you couldn’t think. Yoongi groaned your name, gripping your ass with both hands and digging his nails in your softness, cock jolting as he came in thick pumps, filling up the condom and swelling it against your walls.

It took Jungkook a little longer, but not that much longer, your mouth still locked tight and he hissed out your name, whimpering as he came down your throat, filling it with cum once again, so fast that you had to swallow hastily to breathe, and yet there was more, thick salty dribbles that made you moan, so delicious that you leaned into it, sucking Jungkook dry.

“A-ah, n-noona…”

Your body ached, flinching from oversensitivity, your mind swimming with pleasure. Had it ever felt this good before? You slid off Jungkook’s cock, falling against his thigh and using it like a pillow, chest heaving, sticky all over, lips overused, pussy throbbing, barely realizing that Yoongi had pulled out, far too spent to see straight.

“Fuck, I love you two…”

Yoongi’s face suddenly appeared, smug expression above you. He had crawled over your body, ruffled black hair hanging down, dark cat eyes gleaming.

“Romantic.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Mmm.”

He leaned down and kissed you, smiling against your lips, mouthing his love to you, forming each word against your skin slowly so you knew. You smiled back, showering him with light pecks, mouthing the words back to him. Yoongi purred and lifted himself up, taking you with him.

“I can’t move,” you complained, using your arms to push yourself up to avoid straining Yoongi’s shoulders. He chuckled, not the least bit fooled by your whines. He pushed you into Jungkook’s hard chest, covered in sweat and cum, and sandwiched you between them, your face right beside Jungkook’s, cheek to cheek. You could feel the heat in his face, his hair sticking to it.

“Noona?”

“Hm?”

Everything was far too messy for this cuddle session, but that could wait.

“Is it okay if I love you?” Jungkook mumbled, burying his nose in your hair.

“Mhm,” Yoongi responded, sounding sleepy.

You brushed Jungkook’s hair away from his face. “I would very much like that.”

“Everything is dirty,” Yoongi grumbled.

“You are a main contributor,” you said cheerfully.

Yoongi grunted, leaning against you, squashing you a little harder against Jungkook. Nothing to complain about. You were enjoying every second of this.

“Jungkookie?”

“Hm, noona?”

You reached up and ran a hand through his dark cerulean hair. Jungkook hummed appreciatively, closing his eyes at your touch.

“You know this shade is Cookie Monster blue, right?”

“… Hah?”

“Does that make you Ggukkie Monster?”

Yoongi burst out laughing, raspy and full, a rare moment of Min Yoongi absolutely losing his shit.

-

part v "Sorry, Jungkook, you're not allowed this time."

--

masterpost

[we-have-bangtan]

Again.

Pairing: Doctor! Yoongi x Patient! Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Crack (??), Ex's, smut

Warning: Swearing, smut (just an old memory)

Synopsis: When Yn is forced to go to the hospital after falling down the stairs of her office. The doctor who was to attend to her was none other than her ex-boyfriend Min Yoongi.

A/n: let me know if you like it! And give me a reblog to support me!!!

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Yn turned over onto her back, her eyes still closed. She wondered silently why her normally soft bed was hard today. With another roll, she landed with a thud on the cold, hard floor, jolting her awake.

When the blinding lights of the room filled her vision, she suddenly regretted opening her eyes. She sat on the floor, rubbing her eyes to clear the sleep from them, oblivious to the drool on her chin. Her eyes opened in confusion when she saw the IV line on her wrist, her gaze following the line, attached to a bottle mounted onto an IV stand.

She sprang to her feet immediately, taking in her surroundings: the IV stand, the white bed, white walls, the hand sanitizer mounted on the wall, the white floor tiles, and the white blinds that kept the sunshine out.

A hospital? She guessed as she took in all the equipment, the machines that beeped every few seconds were a dead giveaway. Is this a private room? She asked herself, trying to find any clue which hospital this was when the door swung open.

Min Yoongi entered the room, wearing a white lab coat and a stethoscope around his neck. He walked over to her side and encouraged her to take a seat on the bed.

"Where am I?" Despite the fact that she already knew the answer, she inquired. "Take a wild guess," Yoongi replied dryly as he flipped through the papers on his clipboard. Yn racked her brain for the name of the hospital; she was certain she knew which one Yoongi had been working at, but her mind was blank, displaying only a buffering page similar to that of a 2004 Dell laptop.

"Did you really hit your head that hard?"  Yoongi said what he was thinking, a little concerned for her safety. "Do you have a headache? Can you recall what you ate for breakfast or what happened just before you passed out? "He questioned.

"My head hurts a bit, so for breakfast, I had cinnamon crunch with milk, and lunch I had a sandwich. Walking down the stairs is the last thing I recall," She responded. All of her responses matched what her coworkers had told them, leading Yoongi to believe that Yn simply didn't know where he worked and that her head was okay.

He was irritated that Yn had no idea where he worked, but he forced his resentment to the back of his mind before informing her that she was in a private room at Asan Medical Centre in Seoul. "Wait, are you serious?" She yelled as she struggled to get out of bed.

"Yes, seriously," he explained, forcing her back onto the bed "You fell down the stairs in your office and one of your colleagues brought you in; you were unconscious for 5 hours; you will need to stay the night so we can run some tests on you; you will need to stay the night so we can run some tests on you," he added. "Why on earth do you have no idea I work at Asan?"He demanded once he was done briefing her.

"I would have noticed if you hadn't blocked me on all your social media pages," Yn said after some thought. She hisses, reminding him why she was blocked in the first place. "I wouldn't have had to block you if you hadn't started tagging me in those dumb Facebook memes," he retorted as he paging one of the nurses to come to change the IV bag.

"Is there something bothering you? Aside from your head," Yoongi inquired, reaching for his fancy click pen, which Yn had given him in college. "You still use that?" She inquired, her gaze falling on the royal blue color of the pen, the brand name has faded over time. He calmly replied, "I started using it once I got my residence, now answer the question."

To search for any injury, Yn moved her limbs around, starting with her feet. She turned them around to look for any discomfort before moving on to her legs, which were still perfect.  She eventually tested her shoulders and despite her best efforts, winced in pain as she raised her left shoulder.

"Left shoulder, okay. Do you feel nauseous?"  Yn shook her head as Yoongi asked more.

"Any ringing in your ears?"

"Nope"

"Is that gray hair on your head?" Yn interjected, pointing to a few strands at the start of Yoongi's hairline. He dismissed her and instead scribbled a note on his clipboard.

"OK, so you don't have any concussion symptoms, your hearing is good, and you're not feeling dizzy and your eyesight is better than ever before considering the fact that you could pick out my gray hair from that far. We still have some blood work to do and I'm putting you on observation tonight in case any symptom pops up, you're free to go home after that," Yoongi informed.

He reasoned that saying anything else would be unprofessional of him. Heading for the door when, "Yah, why am I in a private room in the first place?" Yn intervened, preventing him from leaving. Yoongi replied, turning around to face her, "I figured it would be more convenient for you."

"Bruh, do you have any idea how broke I am," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her stomach. "I ain't a hotshot doctor to be able to afford a private room in Asan Medical Centre," she sneered. "Who said something about you paying?" asked Yoongi. As he returned to her side. "So, who is going to foot the bill?  You? " She inquired, he nodded, causing her jaw to drop. She was perplexed by his words and asked, "Why would you do that?" "What good is it to be a hotshot doctor?" He shrugged.

The mental picture of a very sleepy and confused Yn, with her hair all tangled up and a tiny spot of drool on her face had made him soft, and there was no stopping his heart from falling head over heels for her all over again as he walked out of the room, the smile he had been battling slowly crept into place...

.

.

.

Yoongi peeked into Yn's room after his shift, his shoulders slouching from the stress of his job. He had his coat and stethoscope wrapped over his arm, his hair slightly damp from the shower he had taken, his white t-shirt clinging to his body.

When they were dating, one of Yn's 'rules' was that if he wanted to get close to her, he had to shower after returning from the hospital because she hated the scent of antiseptic. With the scent of antiseptic all over her, he wondered how she was doing.

He discovered her in bed, knees drawn up to her stomach, phone in hand, the screen almost brushing her nose as she mindlessly scrolled through Instagram. Her food, which had been left on the side table, had not been touched.

He warned, walking into the room, "You'll go blind if you keep doing that." Yn's head snapped up at his voice but calmed down when she saw who it was. He drew up a stool next to the bed and checked what Yn had received from the hospital. Soup, kimchi, rice, and pickled radishes were served on the side (Yn hated those). "Is the food not to your liking?" Concerned about her dietary habits, he inquired.

"They don't have any salt or spice," she replied as she stowed her phone. Yoongi grimaced after taking a sip of the soup. There was no salt or pepper and was as bland as raw tofu.

"SEE!!" Yn screamed, delighted that she had been proven right, but Yoongi, not one to concede defeat, put on a display. "How come it's so salty?" His face scrunched up in exaggeration as he groaned. "Stop acting, I can see right through you," Yn said, raising an eyebrow to call him out on his nonsense.

"All right, fine, you're right," Yoongi conceded as Yn yanked the sheets off herself and reached for his shoulders. He thought it was strange, but didn't say anything when she gently rubbed the spot near his collar, the tension in his shoulders dissipating as she applied pressure. He'd always thought Yn had magical hands. It felt like a miracle to have her hands on him again, something he had never expected to feel again.

"Can you tell me what I can do to get you to order me a plate of jjajangmyeon?" Yn asked. Yoongi thought, Darn it, I knew it was a trap, but he was too relaxed to say no. As she worked out the knots in his muscles, he melted under Yn's touch. She was no longer connected to the IV, enabling her to freely move about the room.

"I knew you were only in it for food," he chuckled, moving away from her to grab his phone from his coat, "What else did you think I was in it for?" Yn jested, playing along as she massaged his shoulders.

"Only jjajangmyeon?" He questioned, scrolling through the options, Yn looking at the phone from over his shoulder. "Order some side dishes too," she added, Yoongi let out a groan when Yn put pressure on THE SPOT at the back of his shoulder blade, the sound making Yn blush. "Stop that, people will think we're filing a porno," Yn scolded lightheartedly, continuing her ministering.

"I don't think we need to film any more of those, I have a whole collection already," Yoongi teased. His gummy smile showing up when he felt Yn's hand round his throat, threatening to choke him. "I think it's the other way round," he scoffed. His heart going into dangerous territory.

Yoongi remembered the night he had discovered Yn's choking kink, it had been a very eventful night. He had just come back home from the hospital when he had heard moaning coming from his bedroom, he had walked inside, totally unprepared for the breathtaking view that awaited him.

Watching porn wasn't considered cheating by Yoongi as long as Yn showed him what she was watching so he knew what they were getting into. When he walked in on Yn in his rotating chair, her legs spread out on the armrest, touching herself to a film about choking, he was pleasantly surprised. He went up behind her softly and wrapped his fingers around her throat, not putting much pressure. When Yn groaned for him, he felt himself harden in his pants and murmured, "You like that baby."

"Stop imagining it," Yn snapped, pushing away from Yoongi, "How do you expect me to just stop, those were some great moments of my life," he chuckled when his phone rang. It had something to do with the meal. He went to get the dinner by himself, leaving Yn alone.

When he returned with her dinner, he delivered it to her before saying his goodbyes and preparing to leave. "Enjoy your meal and get some sleep," he added as he gathered his belongings. "Where are you going?" Yn inquired. "Home??" Yoongi answered, taking his phone from the table when Yn stopped him. "Did you have dinner?" she asked, opening up the takeout box to reveal a generous serving of jjajangmyeon.

"Not yet, I was planning on getting some on the way," He answered, waiting for Yn to say anything. "Then you should stay and give me some company, it's not like I can finish all this on my own," She mumbled. "You sure?" Yoongi confirmed, taking his place on the chair as Yn grabbed the chopsticks from the bedside table, letting him have the wooden chopsticks that the restaurant provides.

They both dug into the meal, savoring every mouthful. In the otherwise peaceful hospital, just the sound of them slurping their noodles and the beep of the monitors could be heard. The majority of the patients were fast asleep, and those who were awake were taking special precautions to avoid making any noise.

Yn was the one who broke the stillness by inquiring about Holly. He said, licking his lips to get rid of the sauce, "She's good, I got her a ribbon for her ears the other day." He was intrigued about Yn's cranky cat, Buster, who had scratched Holly once. Yoongi's heart dropped to his stomach as Yn replied, "We had to put him down."

Although he was simply a large, sluggish cat who refused to get his butt off the window pane, Buster had been Yn's pride and joy, her support system. "That must have been difficult," Yoongi paused, unsure of how to express his condolences.

"It had to be done; he was in a lot of agony," Yn shrugged, shaking her head to clear her mind. "How are the boys doing?  I haven't seen them since we broke up" Yoongi's six other friends were the subject of Yn's inquiry. He assured her everyone was ok. "You might see Jungkook tomorrow," he said, explaining that he had taken the day off today. "Does Jungkookie work here?" Yn inquired, quite surprised by the information. "Yes, he's an intern trying to get his residence, surprising isn't it," Yoongi admitted.

Yn burped after she finished her dinner, making Yoongi laugh at how cute she looked. Once Yn had freshened up, Yoongi said, "Ok, now that you've finished eating, I'll go home, and YOU'LL go to sleep." "You always leave," Yn remarked, rolling her eyes. The words weighed heavy on his mind as he tucked her in. On his way out, he turned out the light and gave her one last look before walking away.

Yoongi slouched his shoulders again once he was in his car. The words Yn had just said reverberated in his mind. Since he had broken up with Yn, the words "You always leave" had tormented him. He had been in love with her, yet he was the one who had abandoned her. NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND, HE LEFT HER. It was painful to recall the details of their breakup.

Yn crying into his chest, asking why she wasn't enough. Him holding her as fiercely as he could, not knowing if he'd ever get another chance. His cowardice had broken both of them that night. He'd run away from one of the most precious part of his life, and he still regrets it.

They had broken up because of him. Yoongi always believed Yn deserved someone better than him, she was too good for him. She had yelled at him when he had told her that. Saying that it was her who got to decide who was worth her time and affection, and if h really thought h didn't deserve her then maybe he should make himself deserving, she had said that that was the solution for Yoongi's thoughts, breaking up was not the solution, but he was stubborn as a mule, refusing to see how he was destroying both of them and everything they had.

And now here he was, striving to be less of a wimp than he had been all those years before. He remembered how enraged the boys had been when he told them what he'd done. "Have you gone insane?" All Yoongi could do was nod when Jin Hyung asked. Yes, he'd gone nuts, which was why he'd been insane enough to let her go. He had no problem admitting it.

He cruised around the deserted roads, far too late in the evening for anyone to be out. He considered calling Jin hyung for advice, but he opted against it because he assumed he was already in bed. For the rest of the night, he was alone with his thoughts, his mind eating away at him, keeping him awake at night, tossing and turning in bed, contemplating what they could have been if he hadn't been a coward.

.

.

.

.

The next morning was the same as any other, the only difference being the speed of Yoongi's car when he was on his way to the office. The usual 60km/h had escalated to 80km/h and he was certainly a little too excited for someone who was going to be at the hospital for the next 18 hours.

He was walking up the corridor to Yn's room after exiting the elevator on the third level when he heard screams. "MOVE, MOVE OUT OF THE WAY PEOPLE!" shouted Yn as Jungkook pushed her wheelchair down the slanted corridor quicker.

What the fuck!!, Yoongi thought as he saw Jungkook climb onto the wheelchair's back supports, watching in horror as the two of them laughed and giggled their way down the corridor at full speed (which wasn't much speed btw), completely disregarding the 'no noise' and 'no running' placards which were stuck to the wall.

He quickly stepped in the way, feeling a little sense of joy watching Jungkook's eyes widen in fright. Bringing the wheelchair to a screeching halt a few inches away from Yoongi. "Good morning, Hyung!!" he said cheerfully as if he hadn't just broken every regulation in the hospital.

"Can you tell me what you're up to?" His gaze fell on Yn, who appeared to be having the time of her life. "Relax, Yoongo-boongo," Yn remarked. Yoongi frowned at the old nickname, which he had pleaded with Yn to abandon.

"This is risky, you know," Yoongi said, "especially since you wounded your shoulder," He added, quick to understand that Jungkook had no idea about Yn's wounded shoulder. "You hurt your shoulder?!?" the younger one screamed. Yn scowled at Yoongi for giving up that knowledge so easily. Yoongi justified himself by saying, "Don't look at me like that, he was going to find out regardless."

"Yes, but you didn't have to tell him so early, now he won't let me have any fun." She whined, Yoongi scoffed at that, "he isn't supposed to make you have 'fun', he'd supposed to take you to get your x-ray done, it's on the first floor."

Yn pouted as Jungkook nodded at the instructions, pushing the wheelchair with Yn still in it towards the elevator. "Without the wheelchair," Yoongi clarified, making Jungkook pout as well, helping Yn out of the wheelchair.

They both sulked like kicked puppies in the elevator and Yoongi could not stand it. "Ok, fine, take the freaking wheelchair, but just be careful." he said, finally giving in. The two of them gave him bright smiles. Yn sat back in the wheelchair just as the elevator door slid open and Jungkook rolled Yn out.

They're fortunate. Yoongi thought to himself as he went about his rounds that Namjoon owned the hospital. While Yn was getting her x-ray, he checked in with his patients. Yn had a good night's sleep and awoke fairly early, according to the nurse in charge of her surveillance. She felt a minor headache, but nothing else was wrong with her. Only the shoulder was a big issue, and they were unable to determine what was causing the pain.

It took 2 hours for Yoongi to check up on all his patients and meet with a few others in the clinic when Jungkook barged into Yoongi's office with an envelope. "Jungkook you can't just barge in like that," Yoongi groaned as he quickly gave the patient their prescription before sending them out. Telling the receptionist to not send any more patients, he turned all his attention to Kook.

"Now, what's wrong?" He asked, spinning in his chair to face the intern. "Noona's reports are here" Jungkook informed, holding out the envelope. "So fast?" Yoongi questioned. It usually took a day or two for the reports and none of the radiologists took Jungkook seriously, dismissing him as just an intern. He found it suspicious that they had given the reports back so early.

"Namjoon hyung was there for an inspection, he got it done when he saw noona," Jungkook said with a cheeky grin. Yoongi nodded at the explanation. Namjoon always had a soft spot for Yn regardless of if Yn and he were together. He pulled out the reports, scanning through them. "Where is Yn now?" He asked, putting the reports back inside. Jungkook informed that Namjoon had taken her to her room, playing along with Yn's wheelchair drama.

Yoongi rolled his eyes at that, but Jungkook didn't miss the quiver of his lips. Jungkook followed Yoongi upstairs to Yn's room, where they found Yn squishing Namjoon's cheeks. Jungkook joined them, laughing, and Yn hastily let Namjoon free. "So, Doctor, what do you have to say?" Yn asked as Namjoon got out of the chair, rubbing his red-tinged cheeks.

"You must slow down with the usage of your shoulder. You appear to be putting a lot of tension on it; fortunately, it's only strain and nothing dangerous." Yoongi said, instructing Yn to apply heat and ice packs to the affected area. "Are you going to issue me a leave sick note?" Yn inquired as she got out of bed.

"Nope, you can go back to work just fine as long as you don't do any heavy lifting," Yoongi said, scribbling something on a piece of paper. "Yah, Yoongi-ah pleaseeeee write me a sick note," Yn pleaded as she searched for the t-shirt she had worn when she had come into the hospital yesterday. "Nope, and are you really going to wear that?" He asked, surprised that Yn hadn't called anyone to come to pick her up.

"Yeah, I need to head home," Yn answered, gathering her things, "Wait, you can't wear that, I have a spare shirt in my office I'll get that," Yoongi said, getting out of the chair while Namjoon and Jungkook exchanged knowing looks.

"We'll get it hyung, don't worry," Jungkook assured, dragging Namjoon with him. The two of them got into the elevator before spilling the tea. "He is SO whipped!" Jungkook exclaimed, pushing the button to go downstairs. "So is she and did you know Yoongi hyung was footing her bill and he got her a private room?" Namjoon asked, amazed at the extent his extremely tsundere hyung was going to for Yn. "He's pretty much in love all over again, and the nurse said that Yoongi hyung spent more than an hour in noona's room," Jungkook informed with a giddy smile.

"Jin hyung NEEDS to know about this," Namjoon exclaimed but made no move to call their hyung, quickly going to Yoongi's office and grabbing the gray FG shirt which was in his locker before going back upstairs.

As soon as the boys returned to the room, Yn grabbed the t-shirt. She hurriedly removed the hospital gown she had been compelled to wear. Yoongi was quick to respond, instantly stepping in front of Yn so the two younger men wouldn't get a glimpse of his lovely ex's exquisite body, and only pulling away once Yn was covered in his shirt.

"You didn't have to do that, I was wearing a tank top beneath," Yn said, tucking the shirt's hem into the jeans she had worn the day before. "For safety reasons," Yoongi shrugged, avoiding eye contact as though it weren't a big concern that he was covering up his ex. Namjoon's sniggering at the entrance went unnoticed.

"Noona how are going home?" Jungkook asked, checking the time realizing it was his lunch break. "I'll take a cab, don't worry," she assured, grabbing her phone and keys from the bedside table. "I'll drop you home, it'll be hard to get a cab at this time over here," Yoongi said, following after her into the hallway as Jungkook and Namjoon watched.

As she approached the elevator, Yn commented, not really trying to stop Yoongi from coming with her, "There's a thing called uber Yoongi, I'm sure I'll catch a cab." "Jesus woman, will you ever accept aid without a fight?" Yoongi moaned as he snatched her wrist and brought her downstairs to get his keys.

"Aish is so stubborn," Yn grumbled as she trailed behind him, her hand slipping into Yoongi's. They didn't seem to be aware that they were holding hands.

.

.

.

.

"Jin hyung will be so happy hearing about this," Jungkook exclaimed, watching Yn and Yoongi argue like an old, married couple while holding hands as they went to the hospital parking lot.

"They look cute, 10$ that they get back together by the end of the month," Namjoon bet, moving away from the window of the private room. "Hyung, you literally own the hospital, I'm just a flimsy intern, how could you expect me to pay 10$," Jungkook whined making Namjoon laugh as Yoongi’s car spedmout of the driveway.

__________________________

[kookdbean]

unbothered

a/n: another addition to so it goes! just little snippets of acts of service between jungkook and oc. this takes place over the first school year together. also, if you guys have any ideas for more drabbles, pls send them in! enjoy! warnings: mentions of food consumption, coffee consumption, hints at students family life.

series masterlist

i.

It's Friday, the end of the second week of school.

The past three days, Jungkook and you have been arriving at the same time. You'd wait for one another, catching up from the day before since you parted. He'd crack a joke about how he wasn't sure what tires him out more, his roommate's stupid shit or waking up early five days in a row.

Today, you're running twenty minutes behind; twenty-five minutes before school started.

Teeth brushed and face washed were your first two priorities this morning. You were able to throw your hair up into a messy updo; not having enough time for the full routine, only patting moisturizer into your skin. It would be enough to make it seem like you put some effort, right?

It's after you've parked, backpack hanging over your shoulder, tote bag hanging low from your hand, that you spot Jungkook's car and freeze.

Did you leave him waiting?

Clocked in, you make your way to drop off your belongings in your room as fast as you can. No one stops you in the hall, a small sigh of relief leaves you. Who knows how long Ms. Lee Ji-Wan, a second grade teacher who literally beams sunshine, would have kept you if she spotted you.

A moment, just a small moment you allow yourself. A moment where you're not rushing yourself, worried about being somewhere, in the comfort and stillness of your classroom. Hand rubbing your nape, head slowly rolling out to the side. Just a moment.

And it's not ruined, not when you hear three soft knocks on your door before sliding open.

Jungkook's head is poking in, his wide eyes searching the room before settling on you. His eyes quickly look you over before he allows himself in, door closing behind him.

"You didn't wait, did you?" is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, your hand moving down to rub your fingers against your collarbone.

"Not long, no," Jungkook reassures you, not staying still.

"Jungkook," you frown, reaching over to your desk for your coffee, that you realize you forgot when your fingers wrap around nothing, balling up into a loose fist.

"Here," Jungkook laughs, moving his hand from behind his back. An iced coffee.

Hands instantly clasping against your chest, big eyes and a hopeful tug of your eyebrows; your facial expression reading, "is that for me?" Jungkook laughs, holding the coffee out to you, shaking it to show you that it's real, and it's for you.

"I got here just before you, actually. I was in the mood for some expensive coffee and figured you'd like one, too," Jungkook explains, that smile never leaving his lips.

ii.

The end of a meeting is always such a relief.

The quiet, exciting buzz that comes with the meeting being called to it's end, almost like an exhale that relieves your body from the weights of the world for just that moment; weightless and carefree.

The chairs being pushed away so teachers could stand, the sound of shuffling paper and occasional crumple, quiet chatter while some people gathered together, others just making their way of the room. Talk of lunch plans, upcoming events (personal and 'professional').

That was feeling is what you look forward to at the start of every meeting.

It's the feeling you relish this moment. Tae-yeon rubs your forearm, telling you she'll see you after the day ends before rushing off to join Jae-eon, physical education teacher. You look after her, standing up, watching as the pair makes their way out of the room.

You turn back towards the center of the room, eyes scanning the room until you spot Jungkook.

Jungkook's not in the spot he deemed as his unassigned assigned seat during meetings, but at the front of the room, talking to the principal. His body language is animated; his papers on the chair closest to him, hands moving regardless of close they are to his body. You could see how his eyes widened and his tone came off as serious, passionate.

You can't help but watch. You can't help but wonder what he was so passionate about, what he was sharing with the principal.

You can't take your eyes away, not until they bow to each other and the principal is turning towards you, to make his way to the exit behind you. Quickly, you duck your head and a quiet wish leaves your lips, "have a good day, sir."

"You waited," Jungkook simply says, your head turning upwards and eyes automatically moving to his face.

"Yeah," you hum.

"You didn't have to," Jungkook reassures with a small smile, folding his small stack of papers in half and tucking it under his arm. He makes his way towards you, hand gesturing towards the door.

"Yeah, but I wanted to. We always go to lunch afterwards," you state.

"Oh," Jungkook falters behind you. He watches you make your way to the door, turning midway when you don't feel his presence.

"You wait for me," you shot back, a teasing look on your face.

"Yeah, because I haven't been sucked into a teacher's clique," Jungkook defends jokingly.

iii.

You're looking over the math worksheets from this morning, red pen in one hand, chopsticks handling japchae in other.

"This is DEAN" playlist on Spotify plays softly from your computer. You hum, in tune to the music and to the taste of the japchae that your roommate, Sana, made last night.

You don't hear the door open, your face down towards the container of noodles. Cheeks full and puffed out, you throw your head back, a quiet moan, eyes closed. God, you loved noodles.

"You okay?" Jungkook laughs, taking you by surprise.

Head lowering to look at him, your eyes are wide and don't bother chewing, just watching as Jungkook gets closer.

"I thought you had lunch plans," you struggled, slowly chewing and swallowing, repeating the process until your mouth becomes empty again.

Jungkook laughs again, reaching over to twist the cap off your bottle of juice open before handing it to you.

"Take it slow."

You wave him off, taking a sip, eyes looking him up and down.

"You didn't met up with your friend... Seokjin?" you ask curiously, hoping you got the name right.

"I did," Jungkook nods and taps his finger against your desk, "but Jin-hyung had something come up."

Your lips pout, brows furrowing, "Sorry. I know you were looking forward to it."

"It's fine, I know where he lives," Jungkook cackles, placing a small container in front of you, "but just as I promised..."

"Is this the cake he made last time?" You gasp hopefully, pulling yourself closer.

There's a glimmer in your eyes, it makes Jungkook laugh quietly, shoulders shaking and nose scrunching up as he nods.

"He gave me some extra after I mentioned that I shared it with a friend from work," Jungkook smiles, popping the lid open.

What you didn't know about Jungkook that his hyung(s) did was that Jungkook only shared food with people he really cared about.

iv.

Since the days Jungkook and you used to just magically show up at the same time to school and wait for each other so that you could enter the building together (neither you or Jungkook know that the other peeked at the time when they realized that arrive at that time, thus the new addition to their daily routines), you've both had the other's phone number.

First, texts were exchanged when one of you decided to go for a coffee run, always asking the other if they wanted something.

Then came the texts to tell the other that you were running late (you showed up ten minutes before the school day started just to find that someone turned on your computer).

Following that were the texts that came in the evening. The "what was the name of the website that you those pens?," "what was the dish you mentioned Namjoon made for dinner?," the "I have roommate cake and coffee tomorrow morning!!!"

You remember the first time Jungkook took a sick day, after the winter break, after you'd deemed yourselves friends and not just coworkers.

You're in the teacher's lounge, lips hovering over your water bottle. You're pretending to pay attention to your phone, thumb scrolling against the screen as if you're on social media, but in reality, you had your conversation with Jungkook opened. Subtly trying to type out everything you were hearing in the teacher's lounge.

"before you call me a child, I just have to say... you chose the wrong day to be absent, mr. jeon."

Jeon Jungkook: what is this? are we fourteen? are you trying to get me to wonder what the day is like without me?

You scoff to yourself, trying to bite back a smile.

Jeon Jungkook: when I woke up again this morning, it was already 10am, and the first thing that popped into my head was that it was two hours into the school day and math is almost over.

A laugh leaves your lips, the noise from the nearby teachers becoming quiet as they looked over at you.

Eventually, your texts ranged throughout the entire day. From the morning texts asking if the other wants coffee, texts swapping recipes in the late afternoon, to just asking about weekend plans and just...talking to one another.

v.

"I'll have you know, Jeon Jungkook, that my Saturdays are sacred," you gushed, waggling your finger jokingly.

Jungkook snorts, pushing the cart past you, leaving you standing there. He throws a quick glance over his shoulder at you, rolling his eyes with a smile on his face.

"No one forced you to tag along," Jungkook points out.

"You're right. But, you also know that I cannot and will not turn down a lunch invitation," you sigh dramatically.

"Ah, so when you see my face, you see a money bag?"

"Didn't you hear? The way to someone's heart is through their stomach," you sigh, hand over your chest, walking closer to where Jungkook's stopped.

Jungkook's looking at things that he can gift the students in the after school art club. You both had already gotten little gifts for your respective classes, but Jungkook had told you that he wanted to give his art kids some supplies so that they'd be encouraged to keep doing art; supplies that parents couldn't afford or in some cases, didn't want to purchase.

"I have three students who go to high school next year," Jungkook murmurs to himself, scratching the back of his neck, "but I don't want the rest of them to think I don't care about them."

"What were you planning on getting for them?" you ask gingerly, hands running over the different sketchbook covers.

"Taehyung was able to get some good quality mixed media sketch books from the art museum. They hold workshops every week and he found some extras," Jungkook turns to look at you, a hint of a soft smile, "so I was thinking a basic watercolor set, some pencils, color pencils?"

"Mmm, maybe leave the water colors for the ones going to high school? Not that you don't trust the younger ones, but water colors seems like some more responsibility," you comment.

Jungkook hums back in acknowledgement, moving to stand next to you. The hairs on the back of your neck stand at his proximity, your heart racing when you catch his scent.

"You added erasers and sharpeners?"

"Pencil set."

"Hmm," your eyes scanning down the aisle. You spot chalk hanging at the end of the aisle, hand reaching out to pat Jungkook's bicep before quickly moving down the aisle. Adjusting your bag onto your shoulder, you dramatically gesture towards the various packs of chalk.

"Not only can they make art in their sketch books, but out in the neighborhood," you try telling it to him like a salesman at a car dealership, "art that can be remade, reworked. Sidewalks, driveways, whatever!"

Jungkook can't fight off the laugh as he doubles over, his laugh echoing around him.

His laugh is contagious, it might be your favorite sound. It has you breaking character, your laugh joining his; a symphony that could bring crowds together, one that people never wanted to stop hearing.

"What? It's not good?" you defend yourself through giggles.

"Did I say something?" Jungkook chuckles, pushing the cart towards you, carefully placing several packs of chalk in.

"Did I win myself some dessert?" you turn away to peek at the other aisles.

"That already came included with the lunch offer. You, my friend, have won yourself something even better."

You realize Jungkook's movement until you hear his voice right in your ear.

"You get to pick one thing from the store and I'll buy it for you."

You shiver, stepping away from him, overwhelmed. You try to brush off the way the back your neck heats up, your heart beats a little faster, your hands get a little clammy. Just a moment to compose yourself, yet, a moment becomes too long when the hairs on the back of your neck fall back down and his scent is no longer surrounding you.

You look up with wide eyes, watching Jungkook make his way into the aisle that had "acrylic and oil points" written at the top.

"Wait!" You call out, trying to catch up to him, "you can't judge what I pick!"

tagging: @yslkook

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

Summary:  Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM. All the warnings listed on Part I apply. 

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V /  Part VI /  Part VII /  Part VIII / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Living with Ned and MJ was both a dream come true and a bit of a nightmare.

A dream, because when they were kids, they always talked about how they would all go the same college and live together one day, and Peter would finally have a real home – and a real family, he used to think to himself,  in secret.

A nightmare, because he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of his friends, and that was the worst kind of feeling to have for the people who opened their arms and their home for him when he needed the most. Still, he couldn’t avoid it and he felt awful for that. They were both attending NYU; Ned was majoring in Computer Science and MJ in Journalism. All according to the plans they made in high school.

When Peter was younger, he made plans, too. He wanted to study Biochemistry, his teachers used to say he could probably get a scholarship to a good college, he was smart enough. Mr. Harrington, his science teacher, even offered to write letters of recommendation for him. Instead, Peter’s life choices led him to his current predicament: a 20 year-old porn actor, selling dirty pictures for a living, crashing on his friends’ couch, not a single dollar in his wallet.

He was definitely not getting any awards for good decision making, that was for sure.

He had been staying with Ned and MJ for a week when he was finally able to set up his Just4Fans account. He knew that had to be a temporary thing, it couldn’t last, even if he wanted it to. He wouldn’t be young forever, let alone a “pretty twink”, as his subscribers loved to call him. He had maybe three or four years left of that hype, at most, then he would be too old for that, and/or people would start getting bored of him. So he had to be smart, the plan was to save up as much as he could while he thought about what he was going to do once the fountain of youth dried up, and the clock was ticking fast.

But for the time being, porn.

Good thing he had his own Instagram account with a few thousand followers. All the other social media accounts were under Beck’s name, and those had hundreds of thousands of followers, but Peter no longer had access to them – he checked. He also checked and noticed that Beck hadn’t announced that they had split up yet, his last post dated from five days earlier, when he released their last video together – two days after kicking him out of the house, the asshole.

So Peter posted a few Instagram stories explaining to his followers that he and Beck weren’t a thing anymore – he didn’t give many details, he didn’t want any drama, specially not with Beck – and that he had set up a Just4Fans account for the time being. In minutes, his Instagram blew up. Apparently, people were either heartbroken over their breakup; relieved he “got rid of that perv!”; or devastated they wouldn’t get to see them doing porn together anymore.

He got a hundred subscribers in just a few hours, which was incredible. The subscription fee was ten dollars a month, so even after the website’s cut plus tax deduction, it still was a good start. He wondered what kind of money Beck made with their videos, because they had thousands of subscribers on their channel.

Once he got the hang of the site, he tried to post at least two sets of pictures a day – which was challenging at that moment, because the apartment was tiny and he didn’t have any outfits or toys with him, they were all at Beck’s. He made plans that as soon as he got the subscription money in around fifteen days, he would try to buy a few things and take tons of pictures to last a few weeks.  

He also made sure to answer people’s messages every single day, which often earned him a little more money in tips. It was shocking how many people were willing to tip him just because he answered them. Some other people asked for extra content, like specific pictures, videos or even voice notes, which he sent via “pay-per-view messages”.

In the end, he felt like he was prostituting himself. Again.

He would never judge a person for earning their living in any way necessary, as long as it didn’t hurt anyone, he just never thought that would be him. Never ever. As a kid, he thought he’d be an astronaut. Growing up, he wanted to be a physicist. As a teen, he made plans to study Biochemistry. And somehow he ended up selling his body online, one way or another.

He didn’t dwell on that for long, he focused on the fact that it was temporary. If he managed to retain at least some of the people that had subscribed to his account for two or three years, then he would be able to start a small business of some kind in the future. Maybe he could go back to school. Twenty-three wasn’t too old for college, right?

Right.

It was two weeks later when he got a weird message. Not a weird message, actually, a weird tip. Someone under the username of YKWIM had sent him ten thousand dollars for no reason, there was no prior conversation, nor did the person ask for anything in return. Peter was sure there must have been a mistake, maybe they had typed in some extra zeros or maybe they had sent it to the wrong person, so he decided to reach out.

“Hey. I think there must’ve been some sort of mistake with your last tip. Lol.”

He left his phone on the counter and got started on dinner. He was a terrible cook, but to be fair, they all were, so it was fine. Ned and MJ were both at work, but they would be home soon and they were having a quiet night in. Those few weeks at their place had been good for Peter, it felt nice not to be alone after what happened, but at the same time, he was starting to feel like he really needed his own space. He was already looking for an apartment to move into as soon as he got the money. He was hoping to get one in the same building or at least close by, so that they could still see each other often.

His cell phone beeped as he sliced some onions and he stopped to check.

“Hey, gorgeous. There’s been no mistake, it’s correct.” Peter was taken aback by the answer, so he checked again to see how much the person had tipped him, and sure enough, there it was. Ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand. American dollars.

“Oh. Wow, that was very, very generous of you. Is there any particular content that you’d like to see from me as a thank you? I could send you exclusive pics and videos, whatever you want.” Inwardly, he was thinking that no amount of pictures or videos from him would ever be worth ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand dollars, holy fuck.

“That would be excellent.”

“Great. What would you like to see?”

Please don’t be weird, please don’t be weird, please don’t be weird… Usually, Peter’s subscribers liked to see him in cute outfits or with cute toys, but some people liked very messed up stuff. He usually said no, but that person had just sent him ten thousand dollars. Fuck, that was so much money, it would cover rent for at least a few months.

“I’ve enjoyed everything you’ve put out so far, baby, so surprise me. I’m sure I’m gonna like whatever you send.”

God, generous and reasonable? Had Peter died and gone to porn heaven?

“You flatter me.” He typed in quickly, leaving the sauce unattended for a few seconds. “Give me a few hours to work on it, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Take your time, but I don’t think you could disappoint me if you tried.”

Peter felt so stupid when he blushed and giggled to himself, because that was exactly how Beck lured him in when he was seventeen, with charming, easy words. He was an adult now, for Christ’s sake, and he didn’t even know who he was talking to. To be fair, it was probably a woman. For some weird reason, according to his Just4Fans statistics, a surprisingly large percentage of his subscribers were middle-aged, cisgender, heterosexual women. Peter supposed those were the ones who used to follow his “love story” with Beck – most of them hadn’t got over them yet, apparently they were “the perfect couple! So cute!”.

He couldn’t blame them, they sold them the perfect love story. And for a time, it was true. Peter really thought Beck was it for him, the love of his life, his soulmate. He didn’t know at which point it all became an act to Beck – or if maybe it had always been an act.

He sighed, shaking his head, he couldn’t afford to waste time thinking about him, so he focused on what he should send YKWIM.

As he finished making dinner, he tried to come up with ideas. They said they loved everything Peter had posted so far – he had posted thirty pictures and five short clips over the past two weeks. The pictures were all in MJ’s bedroom – she offered –, most of them in her bed. There were only a few pictures in which he was completely naked, in the others he had some sort of underwear on –  lingerie or tight briefs.

So, he decided he should do something similar, but different enough that YKWIM would feel somewhat special. He had a few good ideas, but they would have to wait for the next morning, he would need good lighting and privacy.

“Hey, nerd, what’s up,” He almost burned his fingers when he heard MJ’s voice, and realized he had spaced out for a minute there. He shook his head quickly and smiled at her.

“Nothing, how was you day?”

The next morning, once Ned went to visit his family and MJ left for work, Peter started working on the pictures. For some reason, he didn’t want to tell his friends about YKWIM, just like he didn’t want to tell them about Beck when they first met, three years earlier. And if he really was as smart as his teachers used to say, he would have seen the pattern. But as it was, he just focused on the fact that YKWIM was probably a woman living on the other side of the world, who just liked to get off to pictures of pretty boys in lingerie.

But.

For the sake of getting in the mood for the pictures, he imagined YKWIM was a guy. Not too tall, but taller than him. He imagined he had a beard, but not a full one, like Beck’s, no, perfectly trimmed, scratchy, in a good way. He’d have dark, warm eyes, not blue and cold. He’d be older, older than Beck, more mature than him. A real man. Maybe he’d have a few streaks of gray amidst his otherwise dark hair.  

He’d be gentle, despite Peter’s past. He’d treat him like he was the first one to ever touch him, even if he knew that was far from the truth. He would be careful, mindful of his pleasure. He’d start off slowly, kissing along his collarbones, fingers brushing the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs, just shy of where Peter wanted him to touch, as his mouth traveled down his chest; hot, moist breath leaving a trail of kisses down his stomach.

He sighed. Yeah, that would do to put him in the mood.

He put on a white t-shirt that was just long enough to graze the tops of his thighs, and a simple, plain black thong. He decided to take the pictures in the shower – the classic wet, white t-shirt, he couldn’t really go wrong with that. He positioned the camera on top of the bathroom sink, set the timer, and started posing.

First, he rested his back against the wall, one hand pulling the t-shirt down to cover the front his underwear, eyes staring directly at the camera lens as water ran down his face, neck and chest, making his nipples stiffen, becoming visible under the wet shirt.  

Next, he pressed his chest to the wall, looking at the camera from over his shoulder, lips parted, just a peek of his exposed ass cheeks showing where the t-shirt ended, but by then it was so wet it was mostly see-through.

Then he turned so his side was facing the camera and stuck his head directly under the stream of water, running his hands through his hair, back arched obscenely, eyes closed. He let his hands travel all the way down his neck, chest, and stomach, hearing the familiar “click” as the camera took several pictures.

He turned around again, placed his hands on the wall and lifted his t-shirt just over his lower back, sticking his ass out, showing off his provocative underwear.

He got out of the shower and turned the camera into filming mode, then got back under the water and also shot a short clip of he sensually and slowly taking the thong off, but in a way that the viewer couldn’t really see the skin that was revealed. He pulled the wet t-shirt down so it covered everything, but by then it was so see-through that it left nothing to the imagination. Peter twirled a little, then threw an innocent, shy smile at the camera.

That should do it.

He finished his shower, put the wet clothes in the washer, then went to edit the pictures. He didn’t do much, just adjusted the light and contrast, then cut them into squares, because he though it looked classier or whatever. He chuckled to himself at the absurdity of that thought, as he attached the photos and the video to a direct message to YKWIM.

“Hey, gorgeous! Hopefully these won’t disappoint. Let me know if you’d like something different.”

He cringed re-reading the message, he thought he sounded desperate and insecure about himself and he supposed that wasn’t very attractive, so he decided to change it just a little.

“Hey, gorgeous! Hopefully these won’t disappoint.” And he finished off with a hot face emoji, because why not.

He sent the message and went on with his day. Ned and MJ were both back for lunch and since none of them felt like cooking – and they all sucked at it anyway –, they ordered something to eat in front of the TV, as they binge-watched the first seasons of The Office.

“Oh, hey, Pete, I almost forgot, I talked to our landlord earlier and he said there’s an apartment on the fifth floor that should be vacated by the end of the month, if you’re interested,” Ned told him around a mouthful of pizza and Peter’s head snapped up.

“I’m definitely interested!”

“Cool, I’ll talk to him for you, I’m sure I can get you a good deal on rent.” He winked, and Peter smiled, feeling hopeful.

Things were getting better. Slowly, yes, but they were. He was spending time with his friends – who he had neglected for the past two years–; he had a good amount of money to withdraw in the next few days, that could get him going for a while; he was still doing porn, yes, but at least he was in control of the whole thing, including his own body, which was nice; and he only cried for Beck every other night instead of every single night, so he had that going for him.

All in all, things were looking up.

Ned and MJ convinced him to go out for a bit in the afternoon, they said he had been cooped up in the apartment for three weeks and should breathe in some fresh air, and since it was the first somewhat warm day of March, they decided to go jog at Central Park in the afternoon. They didn’t really jog, but they walked around some and Peter must admit that it felt good to stretch his legs and feel the sun on his skin for a change.

They were lying on the grass, resting for a bit, when they saw a blur of red and gold fly overhead. People started cheering and clapping and Peter smiled when MJ groaned, because he knew exactly what she was going to say.

“How can people cheer for that guy, he’s an egocentric, misogynistic, elitist, disgusting asshole.”  He laughed to himself, because he knew what came next.

“He’s a genius, he changed the world multiple times and he even saved it at least twice. I think he’s pretty cool,” Ned argued without any heat and Peter could hear MJ rolling her eyes.

Peter didn’t love or hate Tony Stark or Iron Man, like most people, he just – didn’t pay him any mind. Sure, when he was a kid, he was obsessed with him, he was New York’s first superhero after  Captain America, who was still in the ice when Stark announced he was Iron Man. But as he grew older, he had other concerns in mind other than who was the coolest Avenger, so he kind of forgot they existed, except for when there was some crazy alien threat looming over New York City – which was, like, a biannual thing since they found out aliens existed back in 2012.

The fact that Iron Man was flying over Central Park on a Saturday afternoon was a little alarming though. From what Peter knew, Stark was mostly retired since around 2016, he only ever “avenged” when there was a big threat, like the near-end-of-the-world they had back in 2018.

“Do you think we’re under attack?” Peter asked and Ned shook his head calmly.

“Nah, I think he must be late for something. I read an interview recently and he said he uses the suit sometimes when he needs to get some place fast.”

Seemed like overkill, but who was Peter to judge, he would probably do the same if had a suit like that.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the park and then headed home for the night. MJ turned in early, she said she was beat from a busy week, and Peter and Ned stayed up until a little later, re-watching Star Wars movies. It was close to 2AM when Ned said his goodnight and Peter went to check his Just4Fans, because he hadn’t answered any messages all day long.

There were quite a few, but he did notice there was one missing. YKWIM hadn’t answered him yet and Peter immediately felt like a failure. They probably hated the pictures, they must have thought “ugh, ten thousand dollars for that?”. Peter should have photoshopped them. He could have made himself look at least a little bit better, if only–

Before he could hate on himself too much, YKWIM messaged him, like they could read minds. Peter quickly opened their chat, still a little worried about their reaction to the pictures.

“Damn, baby! You have no fucking idea what those did to me. Fuck! Can I show you? Please?”

Peter was oddly relieved to read that, and was endeared by the fact that they actually asked before sending a dick pic. Or a clit pic? Was that a thing?

“Of course, gorgeous, I’d love to see it.”

Within seconds, they sent a video in the chat. Peter was a little surprised by that, but pressed play anyway, and almost fell off the couch when he did.

It was a thirteen seconds video. He could see the man’s midriff, all the way down to the tops of his thighs. His belly was toned and spattered with dark hair that led down to perfectly trimmed pubes that framed the most beautiful cock Peter had ever seen. There was no other way to put it.

It was long and thick, but not so much so that it would hurt – Peter knew better –, it stood proudly between his thighs, attached to a heavy set of balls that made his mouth water. He was jacking it mercilessly, Peter could only hear him grunting quietly before his balls recoiled and he came, covering his stomach in thick, pearly white come. Peter whimpered, pressing down on his hard-on, and almost cried when the video was over.

“Fuck, daddy, that was so fucking hot.” It was probably the first time ever that he actually meant that answering a DM from a subscriber.

“That was the third time today, baby, I have been thinking about those pics from the minute you sent them. Spent the whole day with blue balls, even after coming twice.”

Fuck.

“Wish I could have helped you with that.”

“Who knows, honey, maybe someday.”

Yeah, Peter thought, biting his pillow on the couch so he wouldn’t be heard when he came embarrassingly hard in his pajamas pants, face burning with shame. Maybe someday.

[vlogsquadssquad]

davids perfume

summary: y/n and David have an unspoken crush on each other but David releases the perfume ad and y/n doesn't know what to think

a/n: all this Charlotte and David drama had inspired me to write this. love you guys!

warnings: swearing, a teensy bit angst.

mood board:

- your pov

“alright guys, you ready?” david asks as he has his hand on the remote ready to push play.

i’m sitting next to him unable to sit still. our eyes meet as he glanced around to everyone. i smile, “yes, dave! i’m so excited, push play!”

he looks at me almost apologetically. and hesitates. “actually, i-“

“give me that!” i snatch the remote and push play and rub his shoulder as the music starts. he smiles at me with his lips but his eyes say something else. i watch the screen and the whole time he’s watching me.

my eyebrows raise at the more romantic parts of the video. he places his hand on my knee and i’m startled. i look to him and smile like everything’s ok. but my heart is on fire. i feel sick. as the music slows down a scene of her laying in the sheets and his hands all over her, my jaw drops. i didn’t know they were together. he squeezes my leg and i slowly make eye contact with the man next to me. i laugh in disbelief, and look back to the screen. the ending. finally.

“soo, what’d you think?” he asks everyone but only looks to me. i’m shocked and i don’t know what to say. how could i say it’s broken my heart in a million pieces, i’m in love with you but we’re only friends?

ilya finally chimes in, “dude, it’s a soft core porn. i’m gonna go wack it.” everyone laughs as ilya fakes going to his room. i’m still shocked. i just slept over at his house for a movie night and he had a girlfriend? i mean i slept on the couch but still.

“y/n? did you like it?” he asks me.

“yeah, i mean, wow, it’s just-it’s great! who directed it? i need their info now!” i chuckle. david smiles.

“you really liked it? your opinion is important to me.”

“uhm, well yes. i loved it.” i try to reassure him. “it’s very... romantic.”

“yeah, well all those ads are-“

my phone rings. “hello? yes. okay well can- so the part is booked? well i thought- okay i’ll be there soon.” i hung up the phone and smiled to david.

“i have to go, but i loved it. i’m happy, you’re happy, we’re all happy!” i shout as i grab my stuff and head out the door.

on the drive to my agents office i can’t help but feel the tears in my eyes. i try to stay calm and collected.

- davids pov

i head to my room looking for my phone. I find it on my nightstand and text in the group chat. “thoughts?” not even a second goes by when my messages are flooding in.

“where's part 2?”

“that was hot!”

“relationship goals!”

y/n ‘liked’ that last message. 

I slumped on my bed and I checked twitter. everyone was losing their minds. I felt overwhelmed so I checked tiktok, then instagram. maybe filming the ad wasn't a good idea. my manager convinced me to do it. 

as I scroll through instagram, I see charlottes post. “our kids?” I read aloud, confused. I comment back something very professional when I see y/n already liked the post. this is my worst nightmare. I think she thinks Charlotte and I are an item. I call y/n but it goes to voicemail. fuck.

I decide to livestream to occupy my mind. message after message I see people talking about the video. I very quickly try to shut it down the best way I knew how.

“congrats on the girlfriend, Dave.” I read and tried to laugh. “I don't have a girlfriend” I continue to laugh.

- your pov

its night time now. davids tried calling me 4 times now, but I just can't face him yet. how could I? its so complicated. I think I love him and I think- or I thought he loved me too. now I realize the flirty tiktoks, the insta stories were all just for likes and views. I place an order for chipotle. David was the one who got me hooked on it. I sigh and throw my phone on the couch.

 I put on some comfy clothes, aka a big shirt and no pants. I go to grab a drink from the fridge and I slump in the couch waiting for my food. as I scroll through all my social media I see people fawning over David and Charlotte. post after post, Im breaking as I read every word they're saying. my eyes go foggy with tears once again and I hear a knock on the door. 

“coming!” I wipe away the tears and grab some cash to tip. I open the door and im met with a beautiful face. 

“hey” he breathed. “I don't need any money, but thanks.” he smiled.

my hand fell and my body felt warm. “hi, come in!”

“thanks, uhm, I tried calling but...”

“yeah, i’m sorry, i’ve been busy.”

“have you?” he asks. 

I shrug and pout my lips. “I don't know what you want me to say, Dave.”

“I want to know what you're thinking, what you're feeling.”

“I don't want us to be weird. you're my best friend.” I confess

“y/n, I can promise you, it won't be weird.”

“I don't even know how to put it in words...” there's silence as I search for the words.

“y/n... ?”

“i’m so happy for you and Charlotte,” I look to the floor. “I just-i think ive been falling for you and didn't realize, but I promise ill be over it I just need some space, I don't want our friendship-” 

“okay, ill stop you there. there's no Charlotte and me. that video was filmed months ago, and it was awkward and a joke because those ads are always- look, it wasn't serious. it was for the ad, it was jacks idea, and I-”

“yeah, but that worries me too. is everything just about money and views for you?”

“what? y/n, how could you even say that, you know me!” his eyebrows were furrowed and his face was turning red.

“I don't know, I- I didn't think you'd exploit your relationship like that either-”

“there's no relationship!” he yells.

“I know, I know, but it makes it a little questionable still. Am I just a source of views for you, David. be honest.”

“no. not at all. I didn't know how to tell you but... fuck it. i’m insanely obsessed with you. i’m pretty sure you're my soulmate and when I think of my future, I always picture you beside me.” he sighs and takes my hands. “I want my life with you. after watching your reaction to the video I realized I made a mistake and I understand if you're upset with me. but I don't want to waste time anymore.”

I slightly smile. “you could've asked me to do the ad, i’m an actress you know.”

he chuckles. “I thought about it. but I didn't want to exploit you, despite how you think of me.”

I playfully slap his chest and bite my lip.

“I don't think that, Dave.” i’m almost whispering.

“good” he whispers back. “can I kiss you, I feel like this is a good first kiss momen-” I push my lips to his. the kiss is soft but David puts his hands on my waist and pulls me in deeper. my whole body melts into his and I feel whole. my life feels whole.

---

ahhhhhhhh so cute! thanks for reading!!!!

[xiaomomowrites]

act IV

Genshin Impact | TartaLi/ZhongChi

Summary: It was the way Zhongli’s warm amber eyes suddenly were not as warm anymore. The way he looked at him with a piercing look, void of remorse, as he handed his gnosis over willingly to go on a whole tangent about how his “duties were done”. It was the way he turned and treated the precious traveler with the same amount of kindness and gentleness the Childe had received the previous night, with such ease; it was a look he thought was reserved only for him. It was the way he was able to turn back around, stare at Childe with an unreadable gaze, and walk away without so much of a goodbye.

Or, Zhongli and Childe finally have the conversation that was long overdue.

A/N: I’ve been playing genshin for roughly four or five months now, I can’t remember exactly when I started, but boy do I love it. No you don’t understand, I’m obsessed. But these two have been taking up room in my big brain, so I wanted to write for them. It’s been awhile since I wrote for pleasure so hopefully this is satisfactory :,) and tomorrow, I’m back to school, so I thought I’d enjoy my last day of freedom and post this today. Fun fact, I’m minoring in professional writing, so I’m hoping that it’ll improve my writing skills when I write for luxury, too. Anyway, this was a really fun piece for me to write and I hope you share the sentiment.

Also thank you guys for being so patient with our inactivity and just being such a chill audience to write for. Other social media platforms have become so...demanding haha. I appreciate y’all! Feel free to message us or talk to us about whatever :) -u.n.

Find this on AO3!

Spoiler alert: this fic does contain spoilers for the A New Star Approaches arc, so read at your own risk.

—

In Childe’s line of work, he is no stranger to betrayal.

Working as a Fatui Harbinger meant an unhealthy amount of fighting, betraying one person, deceiving another, and then on occasion, getting betrayed himself. It was all in a days’ work. Childe knew he would just have to roll out his neck and move on. He’s done it before, he can do it again. He would think that, after nineteen years of this grueling rinse and repeat, that he’d be able to tolerate a lot in the field. In fact, working with that wretched colleague of his, Scaramouche, and serving the Tsaritsa with a loyalty unmatched explicitly calls for the patience and tolerance of a saint.

Alas, Childe is the furthest thing from a saint. And still, Zhongli’s betrayal stung the most out of anyone else’s, the reason still unbeknownst to him. He tells himself that it’s because he had actually befriended the other man. That, unlike his other missions, he developed more of a friendship with Zhongli than he has with anyone else in the past. Not to mention how he really thought he’d find the gnosis, in all its golden glory, seated deep within the Exuvia, and not within his friend.

Which is why after he watches Zhongli hand over his precious gnosis to Signora of all people, Childe makes haste to return to the inn he had been staying at to furiously pack his things and leave first thing in the morning. Seeing Signora in Liyue so close to Zhongli had triggered a deep seated feeling of possessiveness over him and the city. Liyue was his territory, as far as he was concerned. It was assigned to him by the Tsaritsa and no one else. And yet, despite his unspoken possession over Liyue, its people turned against him and viewed him as the enemy. As if Childe didn’t already know that. As if he hadn’t already grown up with a layered villain complex, subconsciously looking for a fool with a hero complex to match him. Then entered Zhongli, making himself at home in Childe’s life, and he was immediately enamouring the Harbinger.

Screw Liyue.

Screw all their traditions, the stupid glaze lilies, the delicious cuisine, the obvious livelihood that fills the streets in stark contrast to his own icy hometown, screw all those goddamn unnecessary mountains, that fish market with that abhorrent smell he gradually got used to, and screw Rex Lapis. Screw Zhongli, that handsome bastard, for stringing him along like his plaything the entire time.

Childe knows, he gets it, that Zhongli simply did what he had to do because it was best for his people. And what other way for the oldest of the seven to go, if not for a grand finale? And yes, Childe admits, luring out Osial was a stupid move, but it certainly served its purpose for testing the strength of Liyue and its defenders.

Zhongli and Signora knew he would do something stupid and reckless as soon as he caught wind of the Exuvia serving as a decoy. They knew, and they played the game so well, that Childe really thought he was the mastermind puppeteering the whole show.

What a fool he was made out to be.

Childe aggressively shoves blazer after blazer into his travel duffel, angry, pathetic tears pooling at the corners of his eyes without his consent. He sniffs angrily and swipes at his cheek as soon as the first tear falls.

Fuck this, he’s not crying over a god, he still has some dignity.

But still. Pride aside, it hurt. And it wasn’t even necessarily the deceit that hurt the most. He’s dealt with that previously. It was… more personal. More of an internal struggle than an external issue. Childe truly hates those the most. At least he can shove his fist through any external problem, but he can’t exactly do the same with his feelings, or whatever they’re called.

It was the way Zhongli’s warm amber eyes suddenly were not as warm anymore. The way he looked at him with a piercing look, void of remorse, as he handed his gnosis over willingly to go on a whole spiel about how his “duties were done”. It was the way he turned and treated the precious traveler with the same amount of kindness and gentleness the Childe had received the previous night, with such ease; it was a look he thought was reserved only for him. It was the way he was able to turn back around, stare at Childe with an unreadable gaze, and walk away without so much of a goodbye.

The same eyes that gazed at him with such affection and kindness were suddenly replaced with the eyes of a soldier. And it was only then that Childe fully realized the force he was reckoning with. Zhongli was a withered god who lived too long for his own good. A powerful deity that held the ability to shake the ground with a look; he who had been humbled by time and his sharp edges eroded by the millions of faces that passed him. Simply put, Childe was just another one of those faces. And again, he understood. If he lived for six thousand years, he wouldn’t want to be alive after the first hundred.

It was the duality that dug the blade deeper into his already bleeding chest. He felt used.

“I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together, Childe,” Zhongli had said to him on a warm Liyuen night, “a friend of mine, a long time ago, told me that I was… bad at connecting with people. Emotionally stunted, is what she called me. And she is correct, as I have definitely struggled with making connections in the past. But with you… it’s different. It’s easy.

Childe is thankful for the discretion that night provides him; Zhongli would have easily spotted the blush spreading across his pale cheeks had it been daytime.

“So you had trouble making a couple friends, so what?” The ginger shrugs, “I wasn’t the best at making friends, either. My mom always said I was too aggressive. Apparently that’s not such an appealing trait, after all.”

Zhongli chuckles, a beautiful sound. “It was a bit deeper than that, I’m afraid. Understanding the complexity of another’s emotions was always difficult for me, whereas she… she was loved by everyone. Adored by the youngest of fawns to the oldest of horses. It came so naturally to her. I was the opposite. Not that everyone hated me, no, people just had a harder time getting close to me. Which is why, upon meeting you, I was shocked to find that we clicked so well. Befriending you was as easy as breathing air.”

Oh, Archons, help him.

“And,” Zhongli continues, as if he hadn’t already wrecked the man six ways to hell and back, “I must sincerely thank you for indulging me once again.” The deity glances down at the bag full of antique trinkets in his lap. Childe’s lips turn upward into one of his more genuine, rare smiles.

“What’s with you tonight?” Childe responds, and Zhongli looks at him questioningly , “I mean, you never had a problem with me spoiling you rotten before. You’ve never even acknowledged it. Why start now?”

Zhongli tears his gaze away from the Harbinger.

“And,” the ginger continues, “it almost sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”

Zhongli smiles at him then. He wore a kind look on his face, eyes so impossibly warm that it reminded him of his grandmother’s pirozhki. Hot and steaming from the center, melting on his tongue, dissolving deliciously in his mouth and defrosting his entire body. His smile felt like it wrapped itself around his chest and squeezed the best way possible, fitting him back together in places Childe didn’t even realize he had broken.

“What makes you say that?”

Oh, Childe is pissed.

Fuck tomorrow morning, Childe is leaving tonight.

The memories of last night crash over him not unlike a tidal wave and suddenly, he’s drowning. Filled out the brim with a familiar rage burning through his chest and searing his finger tips, his legs, his fucking toes.

He stands abruptly when he realizes he’s been sitting and resumes his packing. It doesn’t take very long after that. A couple toiletries get shoved into the side pockets, his vision is hooked back onto his hip, and his mask is slid into its’ usual spot on his head. He looks at himself in the mirror on the way out and scowls at the way his hair looks more disheveled than usual. Red rims his dulled blue eyes, forcing him to accept that maybe he cried more than he’d like to admit. Whatever.

He swings the door open and-

“Childe,” lo and behold, Zhongli stands in his fucking doorway, “I’d like to talk to you, if that’s alright.” The man looks slightly disheveled. He’s a little out of breath, Childe notices, like he ran up those ridiculous flights of stairs to get to his room- which, by the way, he never disclosed that information with him.

The man in question huffs a laugh. “It’s not.”

He makes a move to brush past him, but is stopped by an unreasonably strong grip around his bicep.

“Tartaglia,” he pleads, “please.”

Childe snatches his arm back and spits, “don’t call me that.”

He retreats back into his room anyway, hearing Zhongli close the door behind him. He dumps the bag back onto his bed and curses himself for not leaving a millisecond earlier.

“You’re angry with me.” Zhongli starts, face as unreadable as ever.

“The sky is blue. Snezhnaya is cold. Are we still stating the obvious here?” He’s too angry to carefully choose his words. Too hurt to slip on his pleasant facade.

“Tartaglia,” he presses, and Childe really hates how his name sounds on his tongue, “I truly am sorry for the way things had to go. It was not in my intentions to… hurt you to the degree in which you feel. I simply was upholding the end of my contract and doing what was best for my people. I implore you to believe that making you feel used was not my main objective.“

Oh god, his apology sounds so robotic.

“So you’re aware that what you did was a little fucked up.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re aware that almost the entirety of Liyue places the blame on me.”

“Yes.”

Well, shit. “Good talk, Zhongli-xiansheng. If you’ll excuse me, I must begin my trip home.”

He stomps toward the door only to be stopped once again. Archons, if Childe had any motivation left, he most certainly would challenge him to a spar. The ginger huffs, and looks to the heavens in a silent plea for patience.

“Tartaglia, please, I’m not finished-“

“Yeah, well I am.” Their eyes lock. Blue meets gold in a hostile hold, refusing to break. “The second you handed your gnosis over, my business here was done. Whatever… relationship we had is done. You were my consultant and was a Harbinger here for business. A Harbinger that you obviously used for your disposal. So now that that’s over and done with, I really need to report to Tsaritsa, lest she have my head on a silver platter-“

“I spoke with Tsaritsa already.” Zhongli cuts in, his grip tightening around Childe’s wrist. “I asked her for more time with you.”

“You what.”

“Surely you are curious about the deal I struck with Tsaritsa. The contract to end all contracts, yes?” Childe’s wild look on his face eggs him to continue, “I struck a deal that granted you more time here in Liyue. With me.”

Childe is silent for a moment. The ex-Archon opens his mouth to continue.

“And I’d like to say I’ve known you long enough to know that you seek freedom. From what that may be, I do not know. But Tsaritsa has agreed to give you a choice, at the very least, a temporary one. An extended vacation or complete retirement is a choice to be made by you.” Zhongli finishes, looking to Tartaglia with hope.

“THAT is worth your fucking gnosis?!” Zhongli’s gnosis. The entire essence of his being. The very thing that makes him divine (thought it certainly isn’t the only thing that makes the man ethereal), was traded for him.

“Yes,” Zhongli replies with such ease it makes Childe’s head spin. “Among other things, of course.” An aggressive why is lodged in the back of Childe’s throat. Why me? A million questions swirl around his head, knocking him off balance. He would have swayed on his feet had Zhongli not been there to hold him upright.

“That’s insane. You’re insane. You…” Childe lets out a tired sigh, “I don’t understand you.” And he doesn’t. Because one minute he’s a cold hearted businessman, and the next he’s at his door, reduced to a mortal, begging him to stay. Granting him freedom. Really, what kind of fucked up game is this? Why didn’t anyone tell him he was a part of it?

Zhongli smiles. He smiles. “You remember our conversation from the night before, yes?”

Childe rolls his ever-blue eyes to the back of his head. “Remind me, Zhongli-sensei,”

“I said,” the deity starts, drawing both of Childe’s calloused hands between his own, “that I struggled to connect with others. Guizhong, the Goddess of Dust, was the one to bring to my attention my emotional constipation. And like I said, she was correct.”

Childe’s anger withers.

“Unfortunately I understand naught of the depth of your feelings of betrayal,” he continues, “but I do wish to understand how deeply humans feel. And in our time together, I’ve begun to understand through you. Despite your… complexities. And I wish to continue to learn. With you.” I wish to feel human is left unsaid, and laced between his words instead.

“What are you saying,” the Harbinger asks weakly.

“Take me with you.”

“What.”

“Take me with you. Wherever you go, I will follow, if you will allow it.”

Well duh, he’d allow it. Zhongli just had to work for it a little more. He can’t just waltz in here after breaking his heart and ruining his trust, demanding his friendship and companionship or whatever, after everything he was put through-

“Okay.”

Very nice ass to mouth filter, Ajax.

Zhongli’s eyes glow impossibly brighter, “Okay?”

Childe tugs his hands back to his side. “Yes, yes, fine. Whatever. But you can’t just. You can’t just use me again in the name of experimentation.”

“Tartaglia, I would never,” he assures him vehemently, “Of the seven, I was always the one most oblivious to emotions. You may ask Barbatos if you want. But I know that what I feel for you is real and I would not trade it for the world.”

Childe’s mind reels. Barbatos? Feelings?

“‘What you feel for me?’”

Zhongli cocks his head in confusion, as if his feelings were the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, yes. And you feel the same, no? It need not be said aloud.”

“It really doesn’t,” Childe affirms, “you can save me the embarrassment.”

“Wonderful,” Zhongli’s face brightens, and it’s only then that Childe is hit with the full realization that Zhongli is free. No longer is he tied to the city and burdened with the weight of the people. No longer does he have to associate himself with the likes of the Tsaritsa. Finally, after centuries and centuries, he is allowed the pleasure to smile so brightly despite feeling pained for finally leaving his people. He is Zhongli, and no longer Rex Lapis. Morax is long gone, too. The man before him is a man reborn, and Childe’s heart aches with happiness for him.

“Okay, well,” he clears his throat when he notices he’s been quiet for too long, “it’s been a long day and I’m tired. I think I’m just gonna take a shower and turn into bed and think about the rest tomorrow. Save it for future Childe, you know?”

He pads over to his hastily packed back and zips it back open, pulling out the toiletries he aggressively shoved in less than an hour ago. He digs his fingers into his neck and sighs at the release of tension. Summoning an angry ocean god took a lot more out of him than he anticipated.

“I agree,” Zhongli says, and begins to strip. “Personally I prefer the left side of the bed.”

Childe gawks at him.

“You-!” Truly an emotionally constipated god, indeed. He sighs and his shoulders droop, the fight leaving his body. “Fine. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be out in a bit.”

“I eagerly await your return,” Zhongli comments passively as he slips under the covers, a book he didn’t even know he was carrying tucked under his arm. Childe sighs for the nth time that night and turns to close the bathroom door behind him.

Future Childe certainly has a lot to deal with in the morning.

[purpleyellow]

Pushing through

BTS 8th member

Sunny’s masterlist

“Sunny has to perform while feeling unwell”

a/n: Inspired by the “Break the silence” moments I have been seeing on social media, and Seventeen’s “Hit The Road” on youtube. Your opinion is very important for me, send feedback and requests anytime 💜 Also, don’t be shy and interact a little, ask box is always open

Touring around the world was an experience Sunny will never take for granted, she got to meet the faces of the people who got her to where she is and got to experience a lot of different cultures even if for just a few hours. She lived for being on stage, doing what she trained so hard for, and feeling the energy from the crowd.

On the other hand, it did take an incredible amount of strength to perform huge concerts. The BTS members had to get used to pushing themselves to the limit in order to provide their fans the best show possible, and with passing out a couple of times due to exhaustion came the knowledge of how their organisms deal with things and how to endure long enough for it to not disturb the performance.

During one concert in the Love Yourself: Tour, Sunny did her usual routine of getting up, going to the venue, soundcheck, etc. So by the time they were ready to go on stage for real, nothing seemed too out of the ordinary. 

They performed Idol, as usual, did the initial speech and as they were singing the last song on that set, Sunny felt something turning on her stomach. Pushing it aside, she tried to focus on the lyrics and interacting with the fans in front of her, but the feeling wasn’t going away anytime soon. She took a few deep breaths when a feeling of sickness hit her.

As they went out of the stage and a VCR started playing, some staff members approached the members with masks of oxygen, but as soon as Sunny tried to take another breath she felt the food she had ingested for lunch coming back to her throat. Pushing people aside, she lunged for a trash can on the side and threw up inside of it.

“Somebody get her a chair” “Are you okay? Do you want to lay down?” Nodding a no to one of the managers, she sat down on a chair someone had brought and let someone pat her forehead with a towel. 

“Is it a heat stroke? Are you going to pass out?” The manager put a portable fan on her face.

“I think it was something I ate.” Sunny closed her eyes and let the woman dry her sweat. As the cheers began erupting, she realized J-Hope had already gone to the stage and she needed to move on. 

Getting up with the help of the manager, she walked to the dressing room where the rest of the boys were already changed and getting touch-ups.

“Hey, What happened?” Suga screamed from his chair without looking at her since the makeup artist was holding his face.

“I guess food poisoning. I feel better now” Sunny grabbed her clothes and walked inside an adjacent little room, built for her to change in private.

“Can you keep going?” She heard Jimin scream from outside and screamed a yes back. No one doubted her on that since she didn’t need extra help getting into her costume.

Jungkook had his solo stage after Hobi, and as he was done, all eight of them returned to the stage. Even though the next few songs were quite easy to perform, Sunny often felt herself without as much energy as usual due to the lack of food on her system, but to anyone looking from the outside, she didn’t seem to be struggling.

When they went down for another outfit change, a staff member got her some energy drinks, to which she downed in a second and went back to get her hair fixed. 

“Sunny your hands are shaking quite a bit, are you sure everything is okay?” The woman fixing her hair noticed and Sunny, who was feeling a bit out of it, shrug it off.

“It must be from hypoglycemia, I just drank an energizer, it’ll go away” 

Except it didn’t, this time she went back on stage by herself, and her solo song, while was more focused on vocals than on dancing, had quite a lot of choreography with it.

She hid the fact that she couldn’t do some of the moves by interacting with fans on the front line, and tried to ignore the urge to vomit again.

As the song ended and Taehyung went on stage, she ran past all the staff members around and picked up another trash can, this time all she could taste was the sweetness of the drink she had earlier.

The same as before, a bunch of people surrounded her and started drying off her sweat and giving her water. Sunny took a few sips and walked towards the dressing room “I have to go change, he’s in the middle of the song already”

“You have to slow down” Jin told her when she got out of the dressing room. He noticed she was wearing sneakers instead of her heeled boots but decided not to mention.

“I’m okay, Oppa. It’s just some nausea, it’s not going to get worse from this” She reassured him and ignored how heavy her limbs were feeling, as long as her vision wasn’t fogging up, she felt confident on keep going. 

The rest of the concert went by not so smoothly. In the middle of The Truth Untold Sunny had to lean against Jimin’s side for support, secretly hoping no one would think much of it, and during Mic Drop’s dance break her vision got blurry for the first time that day, making her stumble a little and almost fall.

“You already did enough for today. Go rest and I’ll tell them you’re sorry for not finishing today’s concert” Namjoon rested a hand on her shoulder while she was getting ready for the last set of the night

“I can do it.” Sunny said with her eyes still closed “There isn’t any choreo to do, and if I feel bad I can just sit down on the floor” Without much time left to discuss, they went on stage again. 

Sunny had a huge headache due to the lack of food, and her muscles hurt more than usual, so instead of jumping around like her members, she decided to just walk around the edges of the stage, occasionally sitting down and interacting with people.

“I wasn’t feeling my best today and I’m sorry for not being as energetic as usual,” She said during the final speech, eyes filled with tears for letting her sickness affect the concert “I feel like I let some of you down, so thank you for being so patient with me. I hope you had a great time despite everything, the energy you guys gave me today was insane. I love all of you very much”

As the last song played, she walked slowly around the stage, keeping a straight posture was very hard and her sight was slightly out of focus. On top of that Sunny felt even worst for not being able to visit all the corners of it like she usually did. 

Jungkook, who was joking with the camera, noticed her waving at fans, and ran in front of her, kneeling down so she could hop on his back, and gave her a piggyback ride around the stage.

Going back to the platform, Jungkook put her down next to Taehyung who gave her a side hug to fully support her weight and placed his green hat on her head in an attempt to block the lights on her eyes that were making her migraine worst.

As the platform went down for the last time, Sunny let fatigue take over and dropped on the ground. “Put the oxygen mask on her face and let’s get her on an IV bag. Sunny, can you hear me?”

[huearmy]

The Smell of Truth - IV

Summary: After years being forced to fight in clandestine hybrid ring, Jungkook is now living in shelter, but life remains bad, the place is abusive, and nobody seems to want adopt him. Until one night a pro-hybrid activist group invades the shelter, and a woman in black smelling like truth promises that things will get better, and he decides to follow her wherever she goes.

Pairing: pitbull!Jungkook x human!Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, future smut maybe.

Words: 4781

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Some violent nightmares, nothing too bad.

Chapter I  Chapter II  Chapter III - Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII

Jungkook was ready to fight.

After eating cake and tons of meat, taste coke for the first time and fall in love with it, you showed him another thing to love about his new life. Something exciting, entertaining and beautiful... He wasn't good at it at first, but seeing you doing it so well just motivated him to do better. Video games of course. All the sounds and colors made his eyes sparkle. The characters were so amazing too. You let him choose what game he wanted to try first, without much reference he didn't know where to start, using as a criterion the cover that most caught his attention and the little you said about each one. In the end he tested so many games that the order wasn't even important. 

You noticed that he avoided violent themes, like fight games, and he preferred the sports, adventure, or cute-looking ones. You came to that conclusion when you decided to show one of your favorites, Dead By Daylight, and before you could start a match he wanted to change to Plant vs. Zombie. At some point you both stopped by Mario Kart and that was the thing. One hour later Jungkook was better than you, throwing all the bananas on you, like losing wasn't an option to him. The bastard is competitive.

"AAaaaaah! nonononon noooooo!" You lose the control of your kart just before finish line as he passes you, crossing the line and winning for the sixth time in a row.

"Yeah!" He jumped from his spot on the floor, running circles arond the couch and you, who was also on the floor.

"That's not fair, half of an hour ago you didn't even know how the controls work..."

"Let's play again!" He seated beside you again, and then his ears perked up. "Can I eat more cake?"

He already ate almost half of the cake, and was clearly in a sugar rush. "Of course. The cake is yours."

With a happy squick he ran to the kitchen, sliding the new pair of white socks over the apartment's wooden floor. As you waited for hi to come back you once again searched your games, looking for any more he might like, and came to the conclusion that you have a very violent taste to games - you are a fervent Outlast fan, for example. You have never dealt with a hybrid so full of trauma so directly, let alone inside your home, so involved in your life, and despite having some sense of Jungkook's past, you don't know everything that torments him or how much, so making him one hundred percent comfortable in this new life is your plan. What you need is to pay more attention to the small details. And maybe you can start by letting him choose some lighter games himself in the online store.

Jungkook emerged from the kitchen, now walking slower, balancing two plates of cake in one hand, and a huge glass of coke, full to the top, in the other, taking care not to make a mess. Carefully he sat next to you again.

"I brought cake for you too." He gave you one plate and got ready for another round.

"Oh, that's sweet of you. Thanks." You played for another hour or so, Jungkook's victories proving that it was not beginner's luck but that he is indeed a fast learner. You were already more asleep than awake, as a result of bad nights and unregulated sleep in the last week, when he got tired of running and decided to change the game. "What is this about?" Jungkook asked, showing you another one. "Ah, is a remake of one of my childhood favorites. It's about a bandicoot who lives on an island in the south pacific, and a magic mask that flies around him, and has a big-headed villain. It's pretty fun." You yawned. "Let's play this one then." He excitedly stated. "Sorry, Jungkook. I'm really tired, and even if I'll work from home, I need to get up early tomorow... I'm going to bed now." You saw the disappointment in his eyes, his ears and tail falling, and added. "But you can keep playing without me." Jungkook looked around, clearly not so happy as before. "Ok. I will play another one that is not your favorite then. See you tomorrow?" He was pouting again, and you thought to yourself if you're going to be able to get used to it. Despite being upset, you could see that he didn't want to have a tantrum asking you to stay. "You are so cute." You said before you could stop yourself, pulling him by the hands for a hug. You rested you head on his chest and reasurely passed your hands on his back. You couldn't see right now, but the brightest smile settled in Jungkook's face. "See you in the morning. Sleep well, JK." "Sleep well, Y/N." _____________________________________________________________________________________ You took a fast shower, put yourself in comfy pijamas and dropped your tired body in the bed. In less than five minutes you were fast asleep. You are the type that has a heavy sleep, that doesn't wake up with anything, and if it happens it is not fully awake, easily coming back into slumber. Normally a lightning storm would not be enough to get you out of dreamland, quite the opposite, the thick rain hitting the window glass has always been like a lullaby. But for some reason, by two in the morning your sleep-pumping eyes were open and alert. Something was off.

You sit, checking your surroundings, listening. Everything seemed ordinary. You got up, looking for your phone, trying to remember where you left it last. You found it lying on the floor beside the bed, between your slippers, some social media notifications and messages that you didn't see before stamping the screen.

Opening one of the messages, a smile formed at the corners of your mouth, as you rubbed your swollen eyes. Still half asleep you played the audio massage, a male voice sounding low. "Hey sweetheart, I'm coming back already. If my flight doesn't delay, I'll be home in the late afternoon... Then I will see you before anything else ok! I'm missing you so fucking much it feels like dying... So..." Before you could finish hearing the message something else caught your attention. You were silent trying to hear again. A soft sound from the floor below. A cry. It brought you from the brink of slumber, zombie mode of yours, to full alert awake mode.

"Jungkook" You went to the door and, knowing the way even in the dark, did not even bother to turn on the lights in the corridor, or the stairs, to run to the hybrid who now lives with you. The closer you got, the more certain you were that the crying came from Jungkook's room, a tightness in your chest leaving you worried at every step without knowing what was happening.

You entered as quietly as you could, stepping inside on the tip of your feet, the room was lighter than the corridor you came from, because of the headlamp on. Jungkook was lying in the shape of a ball, his back to you, wearing silk pajamas that you bought him earlier, the cover lying on the floor indicating he was having restless sleep. He was crying, but still asleep, clutching the pillow as hard as if his life depended on it, his body shivering, from cold or stress, or both, you couldn't say. Regardless, the nightmare he was having must have been horrible. Sitting next to him on the bed next to him, you put your hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly.

"Jungkook, wake up." As if your touch had burned him, Jungkook's eyes snapped open, his body reacting defensively before you could do anything. In a second his hand was around your wrist, holding tightly at a sore angle, making you gasp in pain. For a moment it seemed that even looking directly at you, he didn't recognize you.

"Jungkook, it's me. Y/N. You were having a nightmare, but is everything ok. You are ok." You softly said, ignoring the pain in your wrist he was still holding, and reaching your other hand to his face, brushing the hair away from his sweaty forehead. "You are ok, Jungkook." "Y/N..." His lips quivered, small voice barelly reached your ears. Jungkook is a pile of muscles, much taller than you, bigger in every way, but at that moment, with scared eyes full of tears... you never thought he was so small. "It's, ok." You whispered, afraid that if you spoke a little louder it might scare him. "I don't know where you were, or what was happening... But now you are home, safe."   

He blinked a couple times, looking around, recognizing his own new room, his things, the smell of the surroundings. His tense, ready to fight body, relaxed as his breathing was soothing. He finally noticed his tight hold hurting you, released you and more quickly he sat against the headboard, moving away from you and your touch. The boy's pale face acquired a feeling beyond fear... guilt.

"So- sorry..." He weakly apologized.

It is not the first time he has had this nightmare. It is always the same, sometimes with small differences, but in short it is a ring, metal screens closing all sides and the ceiling, with electric barriers and poles, that if he tries to escape or fall out by accident the injuries will be terrible, that if he doesn’t die by it. There’s a white light on him, as if it were a show and he was the star, but it’s a show of horrors, the fans screaming loudly, from the dark, asking for blood, dozens of men without face wanting someone to die in front of them. Jungkook experienced this so many times in real life, that in a dream it shouldn't be so scary, but here comes the worst part... He's losing, this time he's the one going to die today. While the other guy is sitting on top of him, giving blow after blow he can't defend himself, he looks back, looking for his owner. Jungkook's owner is sitting in a deck chair in the middle of the audience, watching the fight with his eyes without emotion, he is not happy, and Jungkook knows why: he has not been a good boy, he is no longer valuable, and doesn't bring tons of money anymore... So the owner won't help him, he won't find a way to stop the fight to save Jungkook, because it's not worth it. When Jungkook looks up again and faces his opponent it is his own face what he sees, like a mirror, violent and empty... He sees himself as the scariest hybrid in the world.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... Y/N I'm sorry." He started to sob, bringing his knees close to his chest, turning into a ball again, to look smaller and not threatening.

Carefully you risked approaching him again, placing your hand on his knee in an attempt to make some comforting contact, without being too invasive.

"Shhhh... No need to apologize now." Seeing that he didn't withdraw from you again, you finally took his face in your cold little hands. "How are you feeling?"

"What?" A tear ran down his cheekbone, wetting your hand.

"I want to know if you are ok, JK." You smiled softly. He hurting you it's not ok, even if by accident, but that's a subject for another moment, now the focus is on him only. He sighed, closing his eyes and letting himself relax at your touch, feeling the soft tips of your fingers drying his tears. He took a deep breath once, twice, three times before nodding.

"I'm. I just need to go to bathroom."

"Ok." You let him get up, his well-built body looking so fragile as he walked out of the room, disappearing into the dark corridor. You got up yourself, to fix the bedding, get it ready for when he returned.

Jungkook washed his face several times, trying to get the bad impression he could still see when looking in the mirror. "When you're scared, laugh in the face of fear, he won't take you seriously and then he'll leave you alone." The child's voice rang in Jungkook's mind, making him give a weak little smile when he thought that this silly psychology has kept his sanity for years. He wiped his face with a soft towel, and then looking at himself in the mirror he made a funny face. And then another ... And one more. One funny face after another until he feels like smiling for real.

Your happy bathroom, with a nice scent of soap and cute plants, also helped a lot. The urge to cry went away much easier than at any time in Jungkook's old life.

Not really in the mood of trying to sleep again, he dragged himself back to the room, feeling the weight of the world on his legs, considering returning to playing video games and staying up all night... He saw you still on his bed, waiting for him, and stopped by the door, surprised.

"You still here..." You were zoning out, due to his delay in returning. His voice - now more peaceful - put a smile of relief in your distracted face.

"Do you want me to stay with you till you fall asleep again?" You suggested. Jungkook felt something in his chest, almost like a heartache, warm, when he heard that question.

"You don't need to..." He spoke before he could stop himself, regretting immediately, because it wasn't what he wanted to answer.

You left a warm laugh scape your lips.

"That's not what I asked, JK. Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes." You caring for him like this is like a dream to him, so, afraid of making a mistake that would make this moment end, he camly walked to you, lying on the spot you were invitingly tapping beside you, almost with his head on your lap. Almost... You covered him, taking care to wrap every inch of him with the blanket, to keep him warm, as you would do to a child, or at least, how you like to sleep when it's cold, like a comfy burrito. He felt loved. A few minutes went by, you patiently petting his hair. When you thought he would have fallen asleep, Jungkook opened his eyes to look at you thoughtfully.

"Y/N..." His voice was already sleepy.

"Hum?"

"Why aren't you afraid of me?" It's not like you're not expecting such conversation to happen sometime in the future, but at that moment the question took you by surprise.

"What do you mean, Jungkook?"

Jungkook had a hard time finding the right words. He didn't expect you to respond with another question, he wanted you to answer more objectively. A line of frustration formed between the boy's eyebrows as he thought hard on it. You just kept petting him, waiting for him to elaborate his thoughts. "I don't... know. Everybody does... I'm a pitbull and I was a fight dog... I've done so many bad and scary things, so everybody is afraid of me. The people that didn't want to adopt me, the employees of the shelter who beat me, even the doctor who saw me... She was so sweet to me, but she always saw me with a security guard in the room. Even my former owner was always armed when he came to talk to me..." He was frustrated and agitated when speaking. "He always told me that being a fighter is the only thing I good at... That I'm good at being violent. So why aren't you afraid?"

He could sense you getting dark feelings as he spoke. You were pissed, just thinking about what they did to his head made you want to punch someone. Making Jungkook think he deserves to be feared instead of being loved, pampered and adored every day of his life is unforgivable.

"First of all... Get ready because I'm going to give a speech here. Second: it is a protocol, standard procedure, to have support staff when treating new hybrids, especially when they have a history of abuse. It's not because the doctor was afraid of you, it's because she wanted to take good care of you." You paused for a breath, taking care not to be too harsh when speaking and it looked like you were scolding him, which was nowhere near your intention. You sighed and pulled a lock of hair out of his eyes. "Jungkook, you can't believe in any word your former owner told you. If he was always armed when he came to talk to you, it wasn't because he was afraid of you, it was because he wanted you to be afraid of him. He is very bad person. And he's in jail for all the evil he's done, for you and many other people ... And he's a liar. Nothing he has ever said or done to you can define your future or who you are. Can you believe me?"

"Yes." He said with a soft and vulnerable voice.   

He was crying again, with a little smile forming in the corner of his mouth, but still crying. And your heart can't take it.

"And the reason I'm not afraid of you...?" You raised an eyebrow and looked deep into his eyes, as if you were going to tell an incredible secret. "I recognize a cinnamonroll when I see one."   

At this, one laugh left Jungkook mouth, and you couln't think he is any cuter. "Seriously... Look at this doe eyes and sweet smile! You are a cutie pie, JK! The most precious one..." He let you squish his check with a blush taking over his whole face, but then he noticed the bruise forming in your wrist and his smile fell.

"But I did hurt you." He sadly took your hand in his. "Yes, but it can be fixed. It will heal, and it can heal even faster if I treat it right. And you can never do that again." You said logically. "How?" You pointed your index finger to the middle of Jungkook's forehead, and then to the middle of his chest.

"Healing yourself too. I know you're messed up, and that's ok. I'm here to help. We can start with therapy, you know..." Jungkook didn't like the idea of therapy at all, but for now he won't discuss it. You were probably right. "Ok." He said, snuggling closer to your leg. A very loud thunder burst outside, coming very close to the lightning, startling Jungkook, who reflexively grabbed the hem of your cotton shorts. You didn't refrain yourself from hugging him with your whole body, planting a heavy kiss on his cheek.

"Saw what i mean? You are too precious."

With his heat beating frantically he answered in a timid way.

"I don't like loud sounds... That's all."

"Is just loud, it can't hurt you." You said looking into his eyes, your nose almost touching his nose. "As long I'm here no one can hurt you." And there it is again. The smell of truth. The idea of someone as small as you protecting Jungkook from anything or anyone may seem absurd, but for no second he doubt your words, because each one of it smell like sincerity. Your eyes too, so intense as you said it, that made him want to protect you too.

"And what if you are not around when I need you?" He tested playfully. "Then you scream my name as loud as you can and I'll be there in no time!"

"Seriously?"

You seated straight, handson your hips.  

"Of course! I was on the athletics team at college. I'm super fast!" He was laughing, your work was done. "Sorry I woke you up... And thank you for saving me." Jungkook said it with so much affection it made you heart skip a beat.

"Don't worry, sweetie, I woke up to the thunder." You simply said, but he knew this one was a lie. _________________________________________________________________________ After the incredible conversation he had with you in the middle of the night, and the rest of the night well slept, Jungkook started the day very willing and happy. He could barely walk, instead it was as if his legs were jumping around the apartment by itselves. You were up hours before him, but waited to eat breakfast with him - you already had a liter of coffee by yourself anyway. Despite not being what you like to do with your life, and and having another job - running a chain of stores for your family - you have been working as a lawyer for a member office for a few months. Even working from home, you have soooo much paperwork to fill out and study, reports with deadline to deliver, to be a suuuuuper efficient employee. So after you finished eating your cereal bowl, you left Jungkook to play video games alone and locked yourself in your personal upstairs office to work.

He can hear you walking around as you talk on the phone, your voice sounding serious and professional. He was having fun by himself, such a good time with snaks and left over cake, but at the same time he was struggling on not gonna check you out. You strictly asked him to not interrupt you till lunch time. Jungkook spent an hour in this internal fight to go or not to see if you didn't need something or want a glass of juice, to maybe get scratch behind his ear and a smile from you as reward. Like... You were just upstairs and he miss you too much. He was so focused on the game and his own thoughts that he didn't even notice his steps down the stairs and into the living room.

"Jungkook. I need to sign some papers in the office. If anything I'm downstairs."

"Ok." Then you left the apartment. You were too serious. Too cold. Too focused on serious and adult things. A world-sized pout formed in Jungkook's cute face. It is only the third day with you in his life, but he already feels very used to it - your presence of light and warm hugs was able to erase all the years of loneliness that in which he learned to be alone and be satisfied with his own company. Thinking about it he decided to change his plans. He turned off the video game, stretched out and went on an adventure ... He was going to inspect every corner of the house. Field recognition.

He started in the kitchen. He found out where everything, utensils, different types of pots, foods, is kept, and with that he learned a little bit about your personality too... Everything is so methodically organized by category and size that it became very clear that you are a tidy freaky. No problem, learning to respect your habits and quirks, being clean, shouldn't be that difficult. The same style of organization also in the hall closet, and in the bathroom, and on the bookcase for games and movies. He did not enter your room or private office - although the door was open, and he could see a very large bookcase and a table full of papers and an open notebook - because he thought it would be too much intrusion. So the only place on the top floor that went through Jungkook's inspection was the terrace, where your plants are also very well cared for and categorized by type and alphabetical order - including name and scientific name signs. In the tool cabinet, he found gardening tools - as expected - and some useless things  or at least he hadn't imagined you'd have ... Like a neon pink pilates ball and an inflatable Santa Claus.

Jungkook lay on the deck chair on the terrace to sunbathe - few times in his life he had this luxury - and took the opportunity to take a nap. He woke up just before lunchtime.

"Y/N?" He checked on your office, and then in the living room. You weren't back yet, but since it was time for lunch he could finally go after you. Without hesitating he ran downstairs when he saw what time it was, escaping some steps to go faster, and without thinking, or rather remembering, that you probably wouldn't be alone in the office, Jungkook knocked twice on the door and went in before hearing an answer. So he froze by the door when he saw the two men from the other day with you in the room.

You were sharing the office chair with that hybrid - in fact he was practically sitting on your lap while you typed something on the computer, arms around him, both focused on the screen. The other guy, the human, had his back to Jungkook, hunched over the table, also looking at the same thing as you. It must be something important, because none of them noticed Jungkook's presence at first. Once again he felt that he was interrupting something he shouldn't be getting into - the little line forming between your eyebrows, while you read something on the screen in deep concentration saying it. With a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach he also felt that he should be interrupting for sure. No other hybrid should be on your lap while he is home alone. He was about to cough to get your attention, ready to make it very clear how unhappy he was with the scene, to let you know that your attitude was not cool, but the hybrid looked up from the computer, making eye contact with him. All of Jungkook's feelings are gone all of a sudden, leaving only the need to hide in a hole on the ground.

"Hi." The hybrid smiled at him, eyes turning into two crescent moons. This made you and the other guy see Jungkook too. The man, who today was dressed as a very stylish grandpa, turned around, sitting on the edge of the table and crossed his arms. JUngkook felt his face getting hot with all eyes on him.

"Oh, JK. I didn't see it's lunchtime already. Sorry." You said, checking your wristwatch.   

Jungkook couldn't answer, his voice stuck in his throat.

"We ran into each other in the hall yesterday, right?" The human calmly asked Jungkook, not really waiting for an answer. His eyes were so intimidating, a whole dominating vibe coming from him. "He's the one living with you?"

"Yes! This is Jungkook." You pridely said, giving a light pat on the hybrid knee, so he could let you get up. "And this is Taehyung, my friend who rents the studio across the hall. And this little cutie here Jimin he works for me as a counter."

"I like numbers!" Jimin said, cat ears excitedly pointed up. "Nice to meet you." Jungkook finally put some word out, still avoiding eye contact. You closed some folders, saved some docs... Finding it super cute that Jungkook was so shy.

"Let's eat." You stated. "Finally..." Teahyung and Jimin whined in unison. Taehyung out of nowhere lost his frightening posture, practically becoming a child right in front of Jungkook. A very excited child.

"Can we get hamburgers today? Last time Jimin chose, and before him was you..." He picked his shoulder bag and went to the door, stopping right next to Jungkook, who practically froze in place.

You followed suit, stopping on the other side of Jungkook, pressing a reassuring hand against the boy's back.

"I actually want to put Jungkook on a healthier diet. A regular meal would be better." You softly but certainly said with a smile, no room for debate. You wouldn't say that out loud, because it would be exposing Jungkook unnecessarily, and you don't know if he would like it, but his blood tests, done at the shelter, showed anemia, among other consequences of a poor diet, even though he is strong his health was not very good, and your plan is to take care of it.

" I think Jungkook could choose, since he is new." Jimin practically put everyone out to lock the door.

The silence that followed made Jungkook look up from the floor to see that the three were looking at him expecting him to say something he wanted to eat.

"Me..meat?" It was the first thing that came to his mind.

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[pestopascal]

While I will absolutely agree that CB2077 isn’t the ONLY game doing all this bullshit, or that other AAA studios don’t deserve the flack CDPR is getting, I have to say that this is absolutely the perfect storm and I think people are FINALLY seeing the problems in modern AAA gaming. CB2077 might be fun to play, may have a good story, but it’s almost impossible to see because of the glaring issues. Which, honestly, is a good thing. I hope games change after this.

under here

AAA studios have been like this and this sort of release has been completely normalised on all accounts by both the businesses themselves and fans because of the inherent reliance on modders (bethesda at the forefront of this), as well as the pushback every time companies actually go ‘uh we need a lil more time’ (although... they just shouldnt announce potential release dates, im even of the camp they shouldnt even start releasing the game until like 6 months out from their official date because they fuck it up every time. borderlands 3 being the only game i know of being in “secret” development and then announcing itself in march for a september release. game itself aside, thats how companies should do it). easily i can remember a lot of 2011 release games which have had the exact same issues as cp77′s release, and then every other game in between since. very rarely do you actually have a game that isn’t a fucked up mess of a pile of pixels. and it is always the customisable character ones that are honestly, genuinely, ugly looking at release. but you can definitely say its been happening looooooong before 2011, with unrealistic expectations, word limits, 11 month time frames, offloading sequels to smaller companies so they can suffer if it fails, etc etc. the entire system has been like this for so long... they dont know any real different nowadays.

i mean look. tlou2 released under crunch conditions this year, and was rewarded. it was ALL over the social media feeds, it was quite the controversy because, surprise surprise, the company promised they wouldnt do it uwu and then. bam ! crunch conditions. literally around that time too, bioware employees came out with a statement saying ‘man we wish dai FAILED so that back in 2014 we couldve proven crunch was a wrong practice’. they say this as well after having to produce da2 in 14 months, which just suffered from fans and journalism for reusing environments, because it was produced in 14 months, and honestly? no one pointed that out back then, bioware themselves pointed it out again this year, 6 years after release, that that game was produced in 14 months. rdr2′s release was hounded by stories of crunch, and they all disappeared into the night because... it was heralded as the best game of all time. that was 2018, 2 years ago.

i think too is that some people get kind of ... morally and ethically concerned. which is understandable. can you consume something when you know it was made under conditions like crunch? and i think one of the most confronting things about it is that 9/10, not only has your favourite company engaged in crunch conditions, they almost actively choose to continue with them. and then that’s a whole other bag of issues blown up over there when it comes to what is able to be consumed what isn’t etc etc

i think also like a mix of marketing, promises and then the expectations of what the game will be like have really had cdpr earn the ire of fans which is just like... you don’t believe what these companies are saying. you never should, esp when it’s their ceo’s saying it who don’t work on the actual floor. bioware itself is the main culprit of doing this to the point they finally came around with all the da4 concept art and teasing to be like ‘ummm but actually dont get invested?’. remember all that qunari lady fanart that bioware management was like ... please dont get attached? yeah. yeah. like at what point as well is there going to be heavy level of apprehension to approach this? and i can’t really talk either, i cracked open the door for mass effect again. i know exactly what kind of shit bioware will pull, i know they are teasing it already on social media, but mass effect is my ride or die series. that’s why people keep opening the door on letting these companies get away with it. and you can’t fault fans entirely either because this is down to a science of how to get money. i mean, fuck, mass effect andromeda’s entire advertising campaign HINGED on the n7 logo. for the nostalgia value. and i see text posts in the same vein of both ‘guys, disney isnt gonna fuck you if you consume every remake for nostalgia value’ and ‘its understandable why people do it’.

so then you have to go ‘well are fans as just to blame’ and then that’s a whole other argument.

i think also like. i personally havent run into aaaannnyyyyyyy of the issues that you see posted online. which is ironic bc 1) i play on ps4 and 2) its an old dusty ps4. in fact a lot of ppl i have spoken to who have had issues have played on pc. does this mean the glitches dont exist? ofc not, the vids and screenshots are right there. but like... ive had a basically unhindered experience so far, and i get where ppl are coming from (i do, i promise) where theyve basically found the game unplayable. is there also a standard of what ppl consider unplayable because ive played most AAA games at launch when they basically rushed to slap the box label on the game and called it a day until they work on patches. when ppl consider unplayable is also just... different per person. some people have a slight blur on the screen when turning too fast even in an MMO and decide the game is horrible and unplayable. some people can have broken quests and npcs not loading and falling through maps and still be fine. there’s no agreed statement of what makes a game unplayable either, which is why you read threads on twitter and someone goes ‘yeah this npc t-posed so i quit in the first hour’ with a dozen replies. everyone has different levels of it.

it’s a mixed bag of issues. im not excusing cdpr, but the ppl who worked on the game are honestly likely not the ones who pushed for a release. you’ve gotta look at sony and microsoft and ceo’s with bonuses coming up and the investors and shareholders and people who sit behind computers and read numbers detailing interest and demand and supply and how every single time they had to delay this game, the loudest (but smallest) bunch of assholes on like reddit and in the twitter threads complained that it was delayed AGAIN even though back in what 2015? they said it’ll come out when it’s ready. and yeah there are times when game delays result in a mismatched half assed sort of story (kh3... p5... ffxv... dai...) and then there are times when, if they need to delay the game... they probably need to delay the game. sometimes delays are bad sometimes theyre good sometimes you are sitting there like whew if you only didn’t try to be like THIS TIME this is the release date.

the ONLY WAY this will stop happening is, quite frankly, unionising. and everyone is allergic to that whole concept so like... this is “the perfect storm” as you put it. but it’s also not. people have been so disappointed over the last 2 years alone for gaming companies, the final product, the attitudes from higher ups, that i think cdpr is receiving a good few years worth of anger. i think theyre also on the receiving end of misdirection from american fans who still don’t fucking get the company isn’t american, because that’s another bag of issues as well. like we’re holding at least 8 bags of groceries out of the back of the car now, and we don’t want to take another trip, because there are so many little bits of this entire situation to look at. there’s so much back and forth.

i think the worst, but most realistic thing is: games won’t change. how they will social media wise will. maybe. assuming bioware gets their heads out their asses but... they’re going to be a lot more careful. i mean, hell, sony offered refunds. that was just a publicity stint. they dont give a fuck if the game was bad. as i said before, if they did, they would make all companies fix trophy problems, starting from like 2010 or whenever the trophy system first came out. they just don’t wanna fall in alongside cdpr being thrown on its sword. but the companies are gonna learn from this, get smarter, still do the same shit to their employees, still pay off journalists, still do media blackouts, etc etc. and we’re gonna be here in another year’s time, with another game, having these same roundabout arguments, and cp77′s issues are gonna fade into just a wikipedia article.