garazeblaszane

[burritello3000]

The Fifth Turtle

Chapter 3: Long Road to Recovery

When she was done, Mikey inched forward, a curious expression on his face. “What’s your name?”

She picked up the pen, fumbling with it for a few seconds before getting it uncapped. 49, she wrote, putting down the first name that came to mind.

She hissed, shrinking backwards as Bishop entered her cage, pulling out something from his pocket. “Now, now, 49,” he said with a smile, moving closer. “No need to be scared. All I want is a saliva sample from you.”

He pulled out a q-tip and a vial from his pocket, but they looked like knives to the scared box turtle. “Maybe I’ll even give you some water,” he purred. “In fact I’ll give even it to you before, to make sure I get a good sample.”

She licked her dry beak, hesitating. She was really, really thirsty. The last bit of her resolve vanished as Bishop left and returned with a bowl full of water. He put it on the ground in front of him, a gleam in his eye. 49 couldn’t help herself. She darted towards the bowl, dipping her mouth in because she couldn’t use her hands. 

The water tasted like clear sunshine to her. Her head cleared a little as it drove back her pounding headache banging at her temple. 

“Now,” Bishop said, as she licked the metal bowl dry. “How about that sample?”

Before she could do anything, he grabbed her head and opened her mouth harshly, making her jaw ache. His hand quickly entered. She acted on instinct, slamming her beak shut just as he pulled back. 

Bishop grunted with pain as her teeth sank into his hand. 49 released immediately, fear clouding her thoughts. He yanked his hand back, fury twisting his face. 

He kicked her in the nose.

49 fell backwards with a startled yelp. Bishop backed up, examining the bite, a disappointed look on his face. “Now, I thought you were better than that, 49,” he said, his eyes glinting coldly. “You know what happens to dangerous beasts…”

He pulled something out from behind his back. Everything seemed to get dark as he revealed the muzzle in his hands. 49 couldn’t move, terror spreading through her veins.

“They need to be caged!” His voice echoed as he slipped the muzzle over head. She tried to open her mouth, but the muzzle tightened, making movement impossible. It turned into a muzzle made of fire. It burned into 49’s face, melting her scales. Bishop’s evil laughter rang in her tympanum. She couldn’t even make a noise as everything went black.

———————————————————————

Bishop stepped forward, a sadistic look in his eyes as she struggled against her restraints. Tears pricked at her eyes as the thick, black tendrils holding her down seemed to suck out her strength, leaving her limbs cold and lifeless.

Gotta hide! She squirmed, her heart beating faster as he showed her the giant knife held in his hand.

“Time to see what’s really going on in there,” Bishop said with a smirk, lowering the sharpened scalpel. 

“B-but, Mr. Bishop,” a hazy voice said. “Shouldn’t we sedate her before?”

49 recognized this person. It was the only scientist that had not treated her like a monster. The box turtle missed her. The scientist had gotten fired a few days later, specifically the day after this. Probably because she’d argued too much and had shown too much compassion for 49.

“No,” Bishop said coldly, turning his attention back to 49. “It doesn’t deserve them. After all, it’s only an animal.” 

The nice scientist fell silent.

He leaned forward, bringing the knife down on her plastron.

A scream escaped 49’s lips as he started carving. She watched, her vision blurry with tears and pain, as he removed a piece of her plastron. He then reached inside, and 49 blacked out, embracing the comforting void…

———————————————————————

49 woke up, her heart beating rapidly. She hated these memories, especially when they came as dreams. She relaxed, nestling back into the soft bed and closing her eyes to block out the soft lights shining overhead. 

… Wait. Lights? Soft?!

Her eyes snapped open, flicking around wildly. Her headache was still throbbing, but she felt a bit stronger. Something was at her feet. As she twitched, the orange-masked turtle woke up, his sleepy face turning into a smile. 

“You’re awake!” He yelped, jumping to his feet. Fear clouded her senses. A loud beeping came from her left side, causing her heart to pound faster. The beeping got even louder. The turtle was staring at her. “How are you feeling?” He asked worriedly. 

Without warning, she bolted. 49 jumped out of the bed, letting out a cry of pain as one of her legs buckled out from under her. Something was pulled off her plastron, the beeping stopping immediately. The turtle was shouting now, his voice drowned out by the blood rushing in tympanum. She darted towards the door, but only took a few steps before falling to her knees. Her stomach heaved. 49 threw up, clutching her sides. 

The only thing that came up was a yellow liquid. It dribbled from her mouth, forming a small puddle on the floor. She retched again, more bile coming from her mouth. 

Something grabbed her, wrapping their arms around her. 49 squirmed around, terror blinding her. After a few moments of struggling, she chirped in distress, going limp. The person’s grip loosened and, without thinking, the desperate box turtle twisted around and bit the person.

Their skin was really tough and kind of spiky, but she kept gnawing anyway. She whimpered as it pricked at her mouth, but still hung on. 49 snarled, keeping her teeth clamped down. 

After a few seconds ticked by, a low purr rumbled from the person holding her. She fell still. Another turtle?

The turtle kept purring, a deep sound vibrating in their chest. It soothed her. She released her hold, letting out an answering click. The purring grew louder, new voices adding to the low one.

49 chirped, snuggling closer to the noise. Slowly, she calmed down, her heart returning to its normal pace. She lifted her head once the fear faded away, and found herself staring into warm blue eyes. The turtle took a step back, and 49 recognized him as the blue-masked turtle.

Brother!

“Are we all good now?” He asked, holding up his hands. 49 hesitated. Should she talk? Could she trust them? She decided not to speak for now. She responded  with a nod. The turtle’s face furrowed and he opened mouth, about to say something, but the turtle holding her beat him to it.

“Raph’s sorry for grabbing you,” he said gently. “Can I put you down now?”

Oh, right. Leo, Raph, Donnie, and Mikey.

She nodded again, looking up at his face. He carried her back to the soft bed and set her down. The room was quiet for a bit as they all stared at each other. 

Donnie broke the awkward silence. “Okay, so first things first. What’s your name?”

He was talking to her. Her mind drifted. How will I answer? Can’t talk to them. Maybe talk? They are brothers. My throat hurts. Well, at least my head doesn’t hurt anymore. Maybe I should—

Donnie cleared his throat. 49 realized that she’d been staring off into space for a few minutes. Mikey shot up, causing her to flinch. “I know! You must be thirsty. I’ll be right back.”

“Good idea, Mike,” Leo said, a small smile on his face. “Can also grab some ice chips and something light for her to eat, like crackers.”

The box turtle nodded, doing a small salute, before running off. They waited some more. 

“... So,” Leo said, raising an eye ridge. “What’s your name?”

49 shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. She simply pointed to her throat. The message seemed to get across.

“Can you not speak?” Donnie asked bluntly, earning a smack over the head from Raph. 49 recoiled at the sight, fear rushing through her. “Ow, It was just a question!” Donnie hissed, rubbing his head. 

Raph froze, eyes flicking quilty at 49, obviously because of her reaction. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, looking at the ground. She just tipped her head to the side and nodded, clicking reassuringly.

Leo’s eyes narrowed. “She can talk, I heard her.”

Donnie raised an eyebrow at the blue-masked turtle, doubt written all over his face. “... Sure. Anyways, it doesn’t seem like she can talk now, so she can use this.” He handed her a pen and pad of paper. 

She fiddled with the pen as Leo glared at Donnie. “Can you write?” Donnie asked, ignoring his brother. In response, she used the pen to write a wobbly Yes on the paper.

Mikey returned, balancing several things in his arms. He handed something to Leo, who then held it out to 49. “Here’s some ice chips,” he explained as she took the cup from him and inspected it. “They’ll help your stomach. Suck on them one at a time slowly.”

She did what he told her to do, wincing at the sudden cold. It felt nice, though. It eventually melted on her tongue, turning into water. 49 ate them all, her throat and stomach feeling a tiny bit better. 

Leo took the empty cup back and gave her a glass of water. “Try not to drink too fast,” he warned, carefully handing it over. “Your stomach might still be a bit upset.”

She tried to go slow, really, but when she sipped the water, all caution flew out the window. Leo let out a startled yelp as she drank it all, her stomach gurgling happily. She chirped pleadingly, holding out the cup for more. His shocked expression turned into a smile. “You heard her, Mikey. Get the girl some water!” 

The box turtle left, then quickly came back with more water. 49 practically inhaled that glass too. After several more trips, her thirst was finally quenched. She then ate the crackers, unable to eat slowly. Her stomach felt satisfied for now as she finished, wiping crumbs off her beak.

When she was done, Mikey inched forward, a curious expression on his face. “What’s your name?”

She picked up the pen, fumbling with it for a few seconds before getting it uncapped. 49, she wrote, putting down the first name that came to mind. 

“Scoff,” Donnie said, peering down at the paper. “That’s not a name. What’s your real name?”

49 hesitated. Not a real name?

“That’s just the number that Bishop gave you,” Leo explained, a concerned look in eyes. Oh.

Little Kappa, she tried again.

“That’s not a name either,” Donnie told her flatly. “That just looks like a nickname or a title.”

49 thought for a few moments, before shrugging. Then I don’t have a name, she wrote, completely oblivious to the shocked and pitiful looks on her brothers’ face.

“... I guess we can just call you 49 then,” Raph said, after a few minutes of shocked silence. 

“Okay,” Leo, Mikey, and Donnie chorused. 

“Anyways, I’m Michelangelo!” Mikey chirped. “But I go by Mikey.”

Raph shuffled forward. “And I’m Rapheal, but call me Raph.”

“My name is Leonardo, or Leo,” the blue-masked turtle told her.

Donnie was last. “Donatello, but I prefer Donnie.”

A smile tugged at her lips as she nodded. 49 pushed down the slight twinge of jealousy that rose in her chest. 

“Now with all that out of the way, I have some exciting news to share,” Donnie announced, pulling out a clip board. “I took a blood sample from… 49 while she was aslee—”

“Donnie!” Leo hissed, interrupting him. “You can’t just take blood samples from people while they’re sleeping!”

“I had a good reason,” the purple-masked turtle retorted. “I needed to see if she was related to us or not.”

I am, 49 quickly wrote down without thinking. Mikey leaned over to see what she had written as Leo and Raph scolded Donnie. A smile spread across his face as he saw what was on the paper. 

“You are?!” He squealed, jumping up and down happily. His commotion caught the attention of the arguing turtles. They all looked at the paper, Donnie was the first to speak.

“Aw man, you ruined my announcement,” he whined.

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

[darecruit]

Yes, the spanking for the Wicked poster was more than deserved, lol. I was thinking, as you said you're open to ideas, would you consider writing something (in Shelby raised Rachel from the start) universe where Shelby's friends with Holly Holliday and/or Cassie July and Rachel gets in trouble for some reason? Rude to Cassie during her dance lessons (f.e. she was her private tutor) or to Holly who was subbing her school teacher? (maybe they were like aunts to her or something?)

Oooh I like that idea! It would fit in well with the TfT universe to have Cassie be Rachel’s dance teacher (and long time friend of Shelby’s). Could even see Cassie spank Rach directly after class before Shelby returns and depending on what she did, Shelby giving her more at home. Cassie could even use a ballet shoe! 😅 Now you’ve got my mind whirring LOL.

[adashulaz]

A new AU because I'm a loser who desperately wants a tft relationship despite being cupioromantic, this one is silly I promise though

Leola lives because she isn't accused of teaching humans magic

There is no border so there are elves within the human kingdoms and humans within elven towns/villages

Callum, Ezran, and Rayla still meet because of Rayla, Runaan, and the other elves from the first episode going to Katolis(have yet to decided why)

Soren is still sick in this AU, this is due to his lungs not being permanently healed/fixed with dark magic, his spine is also a little messed up because he was doing some trick and fell on it weird

Soren is commonly seen with Mukho(Mushroom Mage) and the mushroom critters because they are his main caretakers as they help ensure he can still breathe properly and that his spine doesn't get worse

Viren and Lissa don't get a divorce since she doesn't end up seeing Viren as a monster

Claudia and Terry still end up together, they meet earlier though

Leola, Claudia, and Soren are all friends/siblings due to Aaravos and Viren being close, it's very hard to tell if they kiss romantically or not

Corvus and Soren do kiss romantically though, they also hold hands romantically, no one knows how or when it happened but it's a thing now and no one is questioning it

Harrow and Sarai live happily, along with Aanyas moms(I can't remember their names)

There is conflict but only because Sol Regam believes that Aaravos and Leola will end up teaching humans magic

This comes to a head when Callum ends up doing magic

It all goes downhill from here, Sol Regam is going after that boy because of it

That dragon will end up dead at some point but it will take a bit

Janai and Amaya end up together still, they meet while Sol Regam is trying to remove Callum from life

Kazi and Gren as well perhaps

Thats all I fear, this will seem much more interesting as a fic I swear

[jooniperbonsai]

Thanks for the Sub (ksj) | Chapter Five

Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 17.1k

Release date: June 26, 2024

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn, coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s

Summary: A miscommunication has you bitter about your relationship with Seokjin. Will meeting one of his friends be enough to change you mind?

Chapter Warnings: swearing, miscommunication, Mingyu + Jungkook bff, Jungkook rides a motorcycle (that is a WARNING), masturbation (f+m), sex toys, pornography, alcohol, y/n is a messy drunk, a lil jealousy, SPOILER WARNINGS: oral (f,m), strength kink, spanking, slight brat behaviors, pet names, bigdick!Seokjin, slight exhibition kink, dirty talk, slight praise kink, unprotected sex, insecurity, traffic light system, consent, they're so stupidly down bad for each other, a little crying during sex moment, creampie

a/n: hello! finally, the moment we've all been waiting for! I appreciate your patience with this. I originally planned on a much shorter chapter, but I wanted to give our couple some time to really dig into their feelings for their first time, especially since they have so much at stake with each other. Just a reminder I'll be taking a short hiatus from TFTS to work on other creative projects, so I hope you treasure this chapter! -h

Seokjin fucked up. Right now, with everything so delicate, he should have known not to dive back into streaming. Not because of the awful energy last night, but because of his stupidity. When he stripped last night, he’d left his phone in his pants pocket. And in further stupidity, that pair of pants went through the wash this morning when he realized he had nothing clean to wear for work. 

He’d cradled the dead phone in his hands like it would have mercy on him and turn on. But it was too far gone. It hadn’t just been washed; it also went through the spin cycle. The screen was shattered, bits of glass echoing in the drum amongst a heavy thunk being the only thing that made him realize what he’d done. 

He didn’t have time to go get a replacement. Not with it being installation day for the new dishwasher in the restaurant. His phone would have to wait. He could wait. So long as he could get in contact with the delivery people on the phone in the manager’s office, he’d be fine. 

So he went in early, taking care of the next set of problems, one after another after another. The delivery people were late after taking the wrong turn, which meant the kitchen staff was handwashing all the dishes. That, plus the nice weather of spring seemed to have drawn more people in than usual. The restaurant was so busy, he barely saw you from open to when your shift ended. Whatever time that was. 

By the end of the day, as one of the part timers loaded the new dishwasher and peeled the protective film off the stainless steel front, everything seemed like it was finally in order. His father somehow found a fax machine on that cruise ship, which was boggling. Who was still sending faxes, much less on a cruise ship? And there was still a fax number associated with this place? 

Regardless, the contract work was finally settled and scheduled. No more stacking of appointments or missing payroll. He had gotten them back up on the cloud, and contacted the accounting service who luckily had stored everything from invoices to direct deposit information. Once he plugged everything back in, Seokjin realized things would be alright. 

He wanted to celebrate. Wanted to kick back with a beer and unwind from how stressful all this was. If he could make this transition smoother for his parents when they returned, leaving them with a much more efficient system and updated restaurant, he thought he could leave it behind a little easier and return to how things were before. 

A tightness squeezed his chest. What before would he be trying to return to? 

Would he go back to streaming more often? Is that how he wanted to keep paying his bills? In the time he’d been off, he’d felt like he was finally healing, finally good at something. Whether it was cooking or managing the restaurant’s problems, he had to give it to himself: he was a fair negotiator and probably not the worst manager that there ever was. 

Because he cared. When he worked in corporate, there were so many faceless names that he always delivered bad news to. No stories to anchor them to bodies. Just emails and phone calls. That doesn’t create much of a person to care about. 

But now, he knew each story, from one of his parents and why they decided to start a restaurant to the regular customers who always ordered the same thing to his employees. Every person was a person, and that made Seokjin care so much more than he’d ever thought he could. 

The idea of leaving that behind wrenched something in his chest. Did his parents know that the elderly white lady who came in and ordered mul naengmyeon even in the middle of winter did so because it was easier on her gums? Or that Mr. Lee was closing his vacuum repair shop because no one thought to repair vacuums anymore? The more Seokjin thought of all those familiar faces, the more he began to feel panicked. What would he do? Where would he go? 

What about you? Barely into the first year of your graduate program and already you had to take a break. Did your parents know this? 

Seokjin didn’t know much about this part of you, to be honest. He never wanted to push, though he noticed how you would talk around them and lead the conversation away from your family whenever you got the chance. Your parents were both still alive and married, he knew this. He knew you were an only child, that Wonwoo and you were childhood friends. 

But, did you have other friends? Now that he thought about it, he didn’t remember you ever mentioning anyone else that you spent time with. You weren’t from here, and that must have really tampered with the friendships you had back home. 

God, how had he been so clueless to not notice before? If you weren’t working or at school, you were streaming. You really didn’t take much time off from anything. And that was really sad. 

Especially because you were so great. You had the type of personality that his friends would love. He could see you and Namjoon talking about books. You had so many in that apartment, and while many of them were clearly romance novels, you had the classics too. 

You’d met Taehyung a few times when he came to mooch off of Seokjin for a free meal, and his puppy dog pout and awful jokes still drew laughter out of you. 

Hoseok, Jungkook, Jimin. They’d like that you always put Seokjin in his place, never afraid to make fun of him or challenge him. 

And Yoongi. Yoongi would probably adore you the most. How gentle you were with others, yet protective of what you loved. How you were fighting to be the best version of yourself regardless of the challenges you faced. How you were thoughtful and filled the space with words that had a purpose, not just pointless chatter. You remembered the same faces in the restaurant as Seokjin, stepped in to help, to be part of a team. Those were things Yoongi always valued. 

You should meet them, he decided. He’d invite you to hang out with all of them in neutral territory. Let his friends see how great you were. And then you’d have friends here, in a place you could maybe learn to call home. 

Even if Seokjin was gone. 

His brother sent him the posting a few weeks ago. A major restaurant management company was looking for a financial consultant who would help develop new and repair existing restaurants’ financial strategy around the world. He’d sent in his resume without really thinking about it. And in the mess of today, he’d seen he received an email requesting an interview. 

Maybe Seokjin would leave Worldwide Handsome to go worldwide himself. He didn’t hate the idea. An excuse to leave streaming fully behind would be a nice end to things. 

What he hated, though, is that your time together was limited, and that job, if he was offered and took it, would shorten the window further. 

Once you started up with classes again, it would only be a matter of time. Summer would come. His parents would return. You’d drift apart further. 

Which is why he needed you to meet his friends. Needed to know that there was something he could do for you. 

He looked at the faded clock on the wall of the office. It was too late to go to the store and get a new phone. Hopefully no one had anything urgent to speak to him about. For the meantime, he knew his parents were resting on their cruise ship off Thailand? Italy? He couldn’t remember. His brother and sister-in-law and nephew were probably asleep now even though the sun still had left some lasting streaks of pink and purple in the sky. 

You were…well he didn’t quite know. Probably at home with your nose stuffed into a book. He could live with that. He could live with everyone being in the places he needed them to be. The world could turn to night once more without him being glued to his phone. 

Seokjin locked the doors of the restaurant. He watched the glow of street lights kick on. He’d get everything into place. Life goes on, right? 

Fuck Kim Seokjin. Fuck him and every stupid fucking man on planet Earth. How can he ghost someone he works with? Does he seriously just want you to quit?

You’d spent the following day waiting for an explanation. Seokjin is a man of many words when necessary. God knows you’ve heard him rant. So what was so goddamn hard about being upfront and honest? He spent all day running around in a frenzy, which you get, but he couldn’t even say hi? He couldn’t even text back with a “sorry I can’t make it”. 

That was two days ago. Your date was Friday. And you’ve gotten nothing in the form of a response. When you came to work today, he wasn’t there. You showed up early this morning to see if he was around so you could finally confront him, and sure enough, nothing.

Now, you’re trashed. All thanks to a “Happy Hour is Every Hour” A-frame outside of a gastropub near your apartment that makes their drinks strong and cheap and handed out bar nuts and a bottle of water the second you sat down. 

That was four drinks ago. Now, the word has a soft fuzzy glow to it, and if you’re not sitting here pissed off at Seokjin, you’re two seconds from calling him up and confessing how obsessed you are with him. And that also makes you want to cry. 

You’re not sure how long it’s been since you started drinking. What you do know is there’s chicken and beer being shuttled over to your table and the wait staff keep staring at you. 

“Thank you,” you slur as you reach for the piping hot rib meat before your server can even set the plate down. 

“Ah, no be care–”. But it’s already too late. The hot oil touches your fingertips and you jolt, throwing the fried food onto your table as you reach for your water, uncapping it and pouring it onto your hands, and consequently, the tabletop. 

You try to apologize, the words glooping together into some string of nonsense as the gossipy waitstaff veer over to the table, whipping white towels out of their aprons and wiping up your mess. 

“I’m sorry,” you mutter again, but you know they can’t hear you, too busy tutting at you and pointing at the steam rising from your food. They don’t say it, but you can understand the tone: you should know better. 

You’ve now caught the attention of just about every other after-work Happy Hour goer, all flushed from the alcohol but more composed than you probably appear (and are). 

You resolve to try pulling yourself together, guzzling down the remainder of your water and taking occasional sips of beer between bites of juicy chicken. Though, how much worse can having a big fat crush on your boss–who is also a gay camboy yet straight– be? Surely the people who run this place have seen worse. 

Shit, you’ve seen worse and Seokjin’s family restaurant isn’t even a major hub for after work drunkards! One time a woman in six inch stripper heels and a Tina Turner wig came in asking you if you’d found a loose pig. You stood there speechless as she called for him. And what’s stranger is that it wasn’t even a pig. It was a man on a leash with the word “P.I.G.” written on his shirt. On the back, the shirt said “Pussy is God”. 

Therefore, overhearing your drunken blubbering is, in your opinion, the least chaotic thing that can happen to these people tonight. 

You pop a pickled radish into your mouth as you take in the crowd around you as they finally turn away and go back to the bubbles they live in. None of these people know what you’ve gone through the last few days. How the sharp sting of rejection paints every decision you make with a shade of insecurity. 

You want to talk to him about it. You want to sit in your apartment with him and cry over how he treated you. You want him to apologize for being an asshole and prove he’s not just like other guys. 

But there’s a sinking fear that he really is this way. That these behaviors are intentional, and you are actually wrong about him. 

And how fucking dare he if that’s intential. What a classless and petty thing to do. Someone should put him in his place. Maybe you should put him in his place. 

With that stroke of genius, you dial his phone, impatiently sighing as you are immediately redirected to the voicemail. The beep instructing you to leave a message pours you a shot of confidence. 

“Hey, it’s me…..Y/N. Listen, you can’t just keep ignoring me. How stupid and cruel of you to just agree to go out with me and then ghost me afterward and at work? Fuck you dude. Seriously, have some fucking class. Honestly, how hard is it to say no? ‘Oh sorry, Y/N I can’t’ is all I needed.” You drop your voice to mimic his. 

“Seriously, we work together. I really thought you would be different about other guys and have some decency to just be honest. And maybe that’s what’s missing here is honesty! So let me just be honest. I know you are a camboy. And at first it was weird yeah but like…I don’t care. Because I liked you. And you liked me right? Well, maybe not. I guess I was wrong. God, alllllll you men are the fucking saaaaaame. And you keep getting away with this shit! But I’m done! I’m so done with it all! You know what? Don’t bother getting back to me. I quit!” 

You hang up, satisfied, and dig into a chicken wing. As you suck the meat from the bone, you see a tattooed hand tap the table. 

“What,” you ask, annoyed. You really don’t have it in you today to deal with some douche bag hitting on you. When you look up, you see a guy in a black baggy T-shirt and jeans. His big doe eyes and rounded nose look down at you with a glint of sympathy. 

“Uh, Y/N?” He says softly. 

You squint at him, trying to place him in the sea of people you know. Is he one of your classmates? Or does he know you from streaming? He’s not a regular at the restaurant is he? He doesn’t register as familiar at all. You open your mouth to speak, but before you get the words out, he’s talking again at rapid speed.

“Sorry! I don’t want to bother you. Um, you don’t know me, but I’m a friend of Seokjin’s.”

A hot prickle of anger and embarrassment punches your gut. “Oh.” 

“Yeah. Uh, I don’t want to bother you, but I noticed you were really upset and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He glances over at the empty glasses on the table. 

“I’m fine,” you say reflexively. “Just been having a bad weekend.”

“Ah,” the stranger says, furrowing his eyebrow. “I can understand that. Do you uh…do you want to talk about it?” 

He shifts onto his heels, rocking back and forth slightly. It makes you feel dizzy just looking at him. 

“No, no I’m good.” 

“Got it, sorry. I know that might be weird. Just thought maybe you’d need somebody to talk to.” 

“And what gives you that impression? A random stranger who is disrupting my night sure seems to know so much about me for no particular reason.” 

“Oh, I have a reason. Hyung–uh, Seokjin– he means a lot to me.”

You wait for him to go on, but instead he bites at a piercing on his lip. 

“I don’t really see how that’s relevant.” 

“Ah, yeah. Sorry. Um, I…you know what? Never mind. So, listen. My uh, my friend is the owner of this restaurant. And they don’t want other people to have a bad experience here.” 

You blink at him. “That’s..great?” What does this guy want from you? Why is he sharing this? 

“It is! And so um…” he holds up a take out container. “He wanted me to bring you this.”

“Okay? I’m not finished yet, though. I was going to finish this beer first.” 

He nods and you see a blush color his cheeks. “Sure, but you see, some people have complained. And he just. He would like it if you finished your food at home instead.” 

An awful silence rings out between you and you glance around. Other patrons of the restaurant are glaring at you. From behind the checkout counter, you can see a very tall man standing with his arms crossed, wearing a pained expression. He, too, is blushing. 

You glance back at the doe-eyed man. “He…you are kicking me out?” 

His eyes go wide and he starts waving his hands in front of him. “Ah, um! No, no one is kicking you out! Mingyu is a puppy, he means no harm. He just…last week someone stole all the change in the drawer and now things are really tight for him and he can’t afford to lose business.”

Mingyu, you now know he’s named, drops his head into his hands and sighs. 

“Got it,” you say through gritted teeth. Jesus, can today get any worse? You stand up, and suddenly the world is tipping sideways and being pulled out from under you. 

“Whoa, whoa!” The stranger says. You close your eyes, ready to hit the tile floor. But it never happens. Instead, the weight of your back is being held by something sturdy, and your wrist on your right arm is clamped onto tightly. You open your eyes and see him beaming down at you, his eyes wide. “Careful there.” 

“JK!” Someone calls out. “You know where she lives?”

“Nah and Hyung isn’t answering whenever I try calling him,” the stranger shouts back. Your right ear is ringing, sensitive to the loud noise. 

“SHH! God, right in my ear! Jesus! I’m fine. I can get myself home! I’m not some weak damsel in distress.” You slap his hands away and find your footing on the sticky floor. 

JK, you assume, holds his hands up in surrender. “Noona, I’m not saying you are. But you are really drunk, and I can’t let you leave when you can’t even walk.” 

You snort. “So I need to leave but I can’t? What kind of riddle is this for me to solve? Are you a troll that lives under a bridge? I can’t leave until I solve your riddles three?” 

He chuckles. “No, more that I am going to take you home. Here, get your food in this, I’ll get my keys.”  

“Don’t bother,” you say, scooping the still-warm food into the container. A part of you is mourning how soggy this is going to be later. 

“Please, Y/N don’t fight me on this,” JK says softly. 

“I’m not,” you insist. 

“Then let me drive you home.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“Then why–”

“Because I live like two blocks that way.” You point. 

His tight jaw slackens as he follows your hand, peering out toward the direction of your place.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, and scoop up the container, glancing down at the empty drinks. In a last minute decision, you lift up your glass of beer and chug the rest of it down. 

JK sighs and shakes his head when you deposit the empty glass into the nest of the others. “Was that really necessary?” 

“Yes,” you reply, walking toward the cash register. JK walks through the swinging kitchen doors, you assume to grab his keys. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Mingyu says, waving his hand. 

What? No way. You try to do the mental math, but at this point, you’ve lost count of how much anything costs. One thing you know: this meal wasn’t cheap. 

“No! No, I want to pay. I’m sorry I was so disruptive. Please let me–.”

JK reappears, carrying a leather jacket, backpack, and motorcycle helmet. “Ah, Noona, don’t worry about it. I already paid.” 

He what? Who the hell is this guy? 

“Oh,” you say awkwardly, glancing up at Mingyu. “Well..thanks.” 

“Yeah. Uh, you’re welcome. Get home safe. Maybe drink some water when you get there.” He steps away from the counter and grabs a gray plastic bin, shuffling over to your table to bus it. 

“Ready?” JK asks and you nod, following him out the door. 

“Are we really going to take your motorcycle a few blocks?” 

He laughs. “Why? Are you scared?”

Yes. “No. Just feels like a waste of gas.” 

“Sure. But I also was probably going to go to Seo-somewhere after this so it would make sense to take it. But if you’re nervous about it, we can walk.” 

“I’m not nervous. It’s just a waste of gas.” 

“Okay, Y/N.”

“Okay, JK,” you mock. He begins walking along the sidewalk in the general direction of your place and pauses at a shiny black Harley, scooping up a second helmet from the seat. 

“That’s not my name.” 

“Then what is your name?”

“Jungkook.” 

He looks at you and smiles, holding out the helmet he had in the restaurant. You stare at it, not making a move to grab it. 

“No? Well, I guess we’ll walk.” 

You’re not sure why you grab the helmet but do. You’ve never been on a motorcycle; they have always terrified you how they weave through traffic and tight alleyways, zip through intersections and rev themselves at lights in some grand show of ego. But Jungkook doesn’t look like any of the biker dudes you’ve seen with long beards and bandanas. He looks almost like an innocent kid. But with tattoos and piercings. 

His smile widens as you scoop up the helmet and plop it onto your head, letting Jungkook adjust the chin strap’s tightness. 

“Are you sure I’ll fit on this?” You ask, eying the incredibly small passenger “seat” off the back of the bike. Who even fits on these? Children riding illegally? 

“Huh?” He looks between you and the bike, scanning your body up and down as he tries to do math. 

“Yeah,” he decides and nods. “Yeah I don’t think it’ll be an issue.” 

So you hoist yourself onto it, trying not to tip the heavy machine over in your jolt. Jungkook clips his helmet on and hands you his backpack. “I’ll need you to wear this though. Otherwise it’ll squish you.” 

You loop the straps over your arms and reposition yourself. Jungkook easily navigates his leg over to the other side, using his left food as a grounding while he holds the bike up. 

“Okay, let’s go!” He says enthusiastically and you chuckle before realizing he has no idea where you’re going. 

“Oh, uh you’re going to head that way for about three blocks. Then turn right.” 

He nods and then inserts the key into the ignition, turning it on. Wordlessly, you wrap your arms around his thin waist, and as you whip down the main road toward your apartment, the chill of the spring air on breezing across your arms feels a little bit like freedom.  

When you arrive, you do the polite thing and invite Jungkook in to prove that you are not so inebriated that you’ll aspirate and die in your apartment. You even drink an extra glass of water to ensure he believes you when you say you’re fine. You’re mostly tired now, the exhaustion of the week and Seokjin’s rejection heavy on your body. 

“Well, thanks,” you say, signaling it is time for Jungkook to leave. 

“You’re welcome. And Noona, I’m sorry about Mingyu, he really didn’t mean any harm.” 

“I understand, I was kind of a lot.” You say, the haze of the restaurant fading into the night. All the things you were mad about are starting to seem quite immature. You pause, realizing something. 

“God damnit! I left my chicken there!” 

Jungkook laughs and shrugs. “Well, it’s a good thing I know the owner. I can always get you a fresh order if you want it?” 

You mull it over for a second before shaking your head. “It’s fine. I probably don’t need it anyway. It was just comfort food during a bad week.” 

“You mentioned you were having a hard time. I hope you feel a little bit more at ease now that you ate and got more water into you.” 

You sigh. “No, not really. I am starting to feel a little stupid for the phone call I had earlier.” 

“Oh yeah, I overheard a bit. So what was that all about? Mad at a friend or something?” 

“Yeah,” you say and Jungkook’s smirk drops. 

“Hyung? What did he do?”

“It’s…it’s not a big deal really. He just…we were supposed to…hang out the other night, and he blew me off.” 

“Oh, that’s not really like him. I’m sorry that happened.”

“Not your fault,” you say, smiling up at Jungkook.

A beat passes and Jungkook sniffs, glancing around at your place. “So, about Seokjin-hyung.” 

You raise an eyebrow in question. Where exactly is this going? When you don’t say anything, Jungkook looks over at you. 

“Well, h-he’s not a bad guy. Really. I hope you know that.” 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask. 

“Doing what?” 

“Building a case for him. All your friends really. Trying to mediate on their behalf.” 

Jungkook glances down and sighs. “I don’t know. But we aren’t talking about me right now.” 

“Are we even talking about anything? We’re strangers.” 

“Have you considered that people become friends instead of strangers by sharing things about themselves?”

You wince. “I don’t like you.” 

Jungkook splits into laughter and you can’t help but chuckle in response. He’s charming, but you don’t need him to know that. 

“Fair enough. I’m just saying, Seokjin he…he’s really a good guy. Practically raised me. Although sometimes I think I’m more mature than he is. But he’s had a rough time lately with all the stuff happening with the restaurant and his family coming back soon. I think he’s just not entirely sure who he is, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you.” 

You sigh, defeated. 

“Take care, Y/N. I hope to see you around.” Jungkook walks toward the door, turning the knob. 

“Hey, wait,” you say. You feel a little guilty as you sober up. You’ve been bratty all night to the poor kid; you could cut him some slack. 

“Thanks for helping me out tonight,” you say sheepishly. 

“Anytime. Really. Although maybe we can avoid making this a habit. I’d like to meet you again when you aren’t drunkenly shouting at my hyung over the phone.” Jungkook picks up his spare helmet off the floor and waves, and then slides through the door and into the dark. 

For a few minutes you stand there, trying to balance the scales of the weekend, from the ghosting to the drunken calls to running into one of Seokjin’s closest friends who drove you home on the back of his Harley. Your head feels like it’s spinning. 

What are you supposed to do about any of this? You’re not sure. Jungkook told you that he was basically raised by his friend, and that touches something really soft within you. You’re not surprised. Look at how good of a mentor he’s been to you in the kitchen staff? It’s not common for bosses to take time out of their schedule to train you, especially before the place even opens. 

But that’s Seokjin’s dedication. He cares. And that’s also why this rejection hurts. Because you know that if he’s being this way to you, it can only mean that you did some unknown thing that has driven him away from you. And it has to be big enough for him to ignore you all day? 

What if he’s seeing someone? What if he’s trying to create distance with you? Your head spins with all the ideas and you need any details. Anything. 

You practically run to your computer, typing in Worldwide Handsome’s website address and searching the performer tab. You don’t have to scroll long. He’s one of the top streamers of the year, and you see that he has a stream that happened Friday night on his replay list, but it’s blocked behind a paywall. Did that asshole seriously stream on Friday instead of hanging out with you?

You pause for approximately two seconds before you begin typing your credit card information in. You need to be sure. In a matter of seconds, all of Seokjin is everywhere; there are photos of him, clothed and naked. Some are crystal clear in quality, looking almost professionally taken, every ridge of his hard cock portrayed through pixels. You feel heat creep into your chest and cheeks, almost like you’ve just taken three shots of vodka. 

As it turns out, the alcohol’s effects paired with Seokjin’s own hotness have you pulling the fabric of your shirt away to try and get some proper air. After a moment, you decide you’re done wrestling with it and strip it off. It’s your apartment, you have a right to walk around topless if you want. And pantless. You feel the cool air wick away some of the heat from the back of your knees as you slide the pants down. Much better. You probably smelled like fried chicken anyway. 

You look back at the screen, your entire monitor displaying an HD photo of Seokjin in the middle of an orgasm, his neck thrown back, Adam's apple bobbing as he squeezes the head of his cock. His hands and stomach are messy with a milky, somewhat translucent load of cum. You squirm a little in your seat, feeling the heat that was once flushing your body send a sharp flicker of desire to your core. What is it you’re supposed to be doing? 

You blink a few times at the screen before exiting out of the photo gallery and heading into the video playlists. Ah, you remember when you see the most recent stream. Research. Because he’s avoiding you. A sharper, more painful throb stabs through your chest, carrything with it the sting of anxiety.

You need to know how you can fix this. You take a deep breath and load in the video. 

“Hi Everyone,” Seokjin says, a lazy wave fanning into the shot. “It’s been a while.” You study his face, he seems sad and upset. Is this really the same Seokjin you saw at work two days ago? He seemed a little stressed, sure, but not like this. 

Seokjin greets some of the names of people who must have responded to his chat. After a few minutes, he smirks. “I needed this. I missed you guys, too.”

Has he not been regularly streaming? You never really thought to look again after you stumbled upon him a few months ago. Okay, that’s a lie. You’ve definitely thought to check on him at least a hundred times, but you promised yourself that you wouldn’t peek. He deserves privacy. 

But now as you’re learning, he hasn’t been consistently online in months. Where has he been? Have you really been taking up that much of his time with your own streams? Your chest follows the sharp pain up to your throat, where guilt nestles itself in. 

He’s seeing someone. He’s got to be. Pulling away from streaming makes all the more sense if he’s dating someone. All that horny, intimate energy has to be directed somewhere? It only makes sense that he would direct it onto someone. 

Jealousy sours your stomach. Maybe he realized that you were intending for this to be a date on Friday and didn’t know how to let you down. So he just did this instead? Why does none of this make sense? 

Seokjin has a few more conversations in the next few minutes, but nothing really stands out. He seems guarded. Sheesh, how lovesick is this guy?

As he wraps up his conversations, you see his face fall in between words as he reads the screen that is determining what type of toy he has to use. Eventually, it is decided upon a vibrating cock ring, and you watch curiously as he places the device down his shaft and balls, snuggly resting at the base. As people donate, the ring vibrates. 

You don’t feel like this is going to give you what you need. It’s certainly hot to watch at first, but it also isn’t helping you understand him better. Even still, you don’t click away, and for the next hour, you watch the recording, his tired eyes becoming all the more lifeless as he approaches his orgasm. Honestly, it feels a bit sad. Not long after he cums, he ends the stream. 

This is not like the one you’ve seen before. In that stream he was passionate, domineering, and direct. Now, you’re not even entirely sure if he was turned on. You begin cycling through older streams, trying to find a date of when all this started. 

How long has he been seeing her? How come you were too stupid to realize it before? You study each video for clues, looking for moments when he might mention something that shows around the time he started closing off to his audience. Nothing promising. 

Until this one, one where he’s softer than usual, more submissive. He goes soft a few times even in this stream, despite the fact that he’s engaging with his audience, he’s giving them everything they could ever want. You watch as he grinds down on a pink dildo, gasping for air, little moans popping out of his chest. 

If you didn’t know him as well as you thought you do, you might believe it. You’ve watched enough of his videos now (including the one you caught live), to see how Seokjin looks when he’s turned on versus when he’s performing as Jin. 

A little buzz comes over the speaker and Seokjin’s eyes look past the camera, presumably toward the source of the sound. Then, like a switch, something happens, and he grows harder in his jerking hand, a flush creeping up onto his chest, his rhythm changing to form a steadier, lighter grind on the toy. But what lets you know that he’s truly, really turned on, is that his moans are not high pitched at all. They’re deep. Fuck. 

“Fuck,” he mimics, a low chuckle coming out of his chest. He’s closed his eyes, more invested in his fantasy. 

Shit, this is getting hot. You squirm a bit in your seat again, trying to focus. You’re looking for clues, remember?

“Yes, yes, that’s it. Right there,” Seokjin groans. You rasp a breath, which has become more erratic as the head of his cock becomes deeper in its blush. You can’t help it. This is what he does, how he affects you. He could be completely clothed or fully naked in this moment, and you would still be just as wet as he’s making you from using that voice. You reach down between your legs, trapping your hand in between to relieve some of the pressure. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” 

What? 

No. There’s no absolutely no way. You must be imagining it. Your stomach does a little flip out of hope anyway. 

“Mmm, I’m close. Fuck!” He changes the tactic for stroking himself, now flicking his wrist and squeezing his tip. You can see the bead of precum that is leaking out. 

You must still be so drunk that you’re running away with your fantasies. No. 

“Y/N,” he says again, clearer. And then, Seokjin orgasms, lifting his hips so his cock can thrust into his hand, droplets of cum spurting from the tip, dappling his thighs and stomach.

“Oh my god,” you say as the information all starts to click into place. “Oh shit.”

“Hyung, open up!” 

Seokjin rubbed his eyes, trying to understand what the hell was going on. What time was it? When he glances at the clock in his dark room, it says 1:43AM. Which is weird, because didn’t he go to bed last night after the sun came up? Maybe his clock was wrong and it meant 1:43PM instead of AM. 

But that was the least of his worries. Instead, he was heading toward the door, where one of his dongsaengs was beating on his door like he was intent on breaking it down. 

He pulled it open, and found Jungkook standing in front of him, his hair sticking out in weird places. He looked like he just had sex. 

“What are you doing here, Jungkook-ah?”

Jungkook’s eyes looked anxious and he nodded. “Can I come in?” 

Seokjin moved away from the door frame, holding out an arm to let his friend in. “Is everything okay?” 

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? I’ve been trying to call you all day and your phone is off.” Jungkook said as he stepped into the apartment and unlaced his boots. 

“Ah, that. It went through the wash this morning. I think I’ll leave here soon to go get my new one.”

“Are there phone stores open this late?” Jungkook asked, furrowing his eyebrow. 

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that it’s almost two o’clock in the morning on a Monday. I don’t think someone is going to be open to sell you a new phone.”

“It’s not Monday, it’s Sunday.”

“I think I know the seven days of the week, hyung,” Jungkook scoffed and pulled out his phone, showing the display to Seokjin. He was right. It was Monday. 

“Holy shit. That means I slept through my entire Sunday! I was supposed to get a new phone today!” 

“Well, I guess your body was in sleep debt or something and you needed the rest. Anyway, as much as I love being Father Time and all, that’s not why I came here. I need to tell you something.”

He couldn’t help it, but as he heard his friend speak, Seokjin’s pulse increased. Nothing ever came from that sentence. But before he could even begin to think about what life altering event happened that would change him and Jungkook’s friendship forever, the youngest was already walking over to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water.

Jungkook unscrewed the cap and took a long chug. “Sorry, thirsty. It’s been a long night. Listen, I was just at Y/N’s.”

Of all the things Seokjin was anticipating Jungkook to say, that wasn’t it. His stomach dropped as he further took in the rumpled appearance of his friend. 

“Wh-what? You were hanging out at her house at 1 in the morning? H-how did this happen? I didn’t even know you guys knew each other.”

Jungkook blinked at his friend for a moment, realization dawning on him. “Oh, no, nothing like…intimate happened hyung! I met her tonight. I was at Mingyu’s and she was there!” 

“Well that makes me feel so much better now!” 

“What? You don’t think I would sleep with her, do you?”

“Well you really weren’t holding much back a few months ago when you saw her streaming!” 

“I…okay so she’s really pretty and I did give her a ride on my bike back to her place but that’s the most we touched! I swear!”  

The sickness of jealousy pulled at his stomach.

“Hyung,” Jungkook said lightly. “I would never betray you like that. You’ve been interested in Y/N for a long time. And I know that.” 

He was right. And Seokjin knew that, too. He took a deep breath. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

Jungkook smiled softly, and then sighed. “I just want you to be happy, hyung. Which is why I came over here right after I dropped her off. She was trashed. Mingyu kicked her out, and you know he’s too chicken shit to ever kick anyone out. But she was on the phone yelling about something and I recognized her. She had drunk herself under the table and was trying to finish a 4-person platter of chicken by herself. 

“And that’s not all, either. Uh, when I started talking to her, I learned what she was really upset about. Hyung, why did you blow her off about your date?”

“What? We didn’t have a date planned.” 

“Are you sure? Because I heard her leave you a voicemail saying that if you didn’t want to go out with her, you should have said so instead of blowing her off two nights ago and that you have ghosted her.” 

Seokjin furrowed his brow. It didn’t sound like you to behave so erratically. Did you get that drunk that you were thinking of things that never happened? When was it that you’d even spoken last?

He retraced the past three days, from him washing his phone this morning…or yesterday morning to work, to the Worldwide Handsome letter, to two days ago when his father began the chaos by sending over half the forms needed. That full day of sleep really was throwing him off. He’d talked to you that morning, hadn’t he? 

About going to that restaurant you’d wanted to try. He’d gotten a late reservation. That he completely forgot about because of everything else. 

“Fuck,” Seokjin said, running his fingers through his hair. 

“What? Oh, hyung, Don’t tell me it is true.” 

“I–it completely slipped my mind. I was supposed to take her out to dinner. It was going to be maybe our first step toward dating. God, I didn’t mean to forget! I was just so overwhelmed with everything that when the time came I was streaming instead.”

“Well, I’m not sure how she’s going to really be understanding about you spending your Friday night jacking off for a couple hundred people for cash instead of taking her out.”

“She doesn’t know I stream.”

Jungkook coughed on the water he had just swished into his mouth. 

“What? Seokjin-hyung, why not? How has it not come up in the last few months of you helping her with her stream?”

“I don’t know! Because she somehow sees the qualities I possess while streaming in me as the manager. And besides, I am the manager. Which means I’m her boss and talking about me ‘jacking off for money’ as you choose to call it is inappropriate for a work environment!” 

“Are you having conversations about this in the work environment?”

“No, of course not!” Seokjin said. “What kind of manager do you think I am?”

“That’s not the point,” Jungkook said. He sighed. “The point is if you aren’t having those kinds of conversations at work, then why are you so bent out of shape to not tell her? And also, you won’t be her manager for much longer.” 

Jungkook had a point. “Look,” he said. “I fucked up. I forgot to take her out, and now I need to apologize or something.”

“She was really upset,” the youngest said, eyes flickering a bit in the dim kitchen light. “Like, I think she really really likes you.”

“How do you know that?” His friend had always been perceptive, but Jungkook was also sometimes a little naive. 

“Well, when I finally convinced her to leave and let me give her a ride home, she seemed really responsive to what I told her.” 

“What did you tell her?”

“To cut you some slack. That you probably didn’t mean to blow her off. That you care a lot about everyone and everything and have been going through some stuff.” His eyes softened, and he carded his tattooed hand through his overgrown hair. 

Seokjin felt his chest tighten. Jungkook had always been so good to him. It didn’t matter that he was the youngest; his heart and eyes were always big with love and wonder, ready to receive all the love in the world and give it all back tenfold. 

“Thanks, Jungkook-ah. That means a lot.”

Jungkook hummed thoughtfully, chewing on his lip ring. “I just want to see you happy.”

“I know. God, I know. And I like her so much. She’s so funny and sweet and beautiful. Sometimes I’ll come over to her place and we will just sit quietly around each other not talking. And then sometimes we talk for hours about everything. I have really started to…maybe fall for her.”

“Oh, hyung, have you told her any of that?”

“No, I…I thought it might slip out of me soon enough. And I guess it did, just she’s not here to actually hear it.” 

“I think you should start there and tell her how you feel in your apology. Otherwise what else are you going to do? Be miserable?”

Seokjin thought for a minute about how agonizing the last few days must’ve been for you. You’d been around him at work and he was too busy to talk. You not getting a response from him for the last few days was probably incredibly confusing and he didn’t know if he could wait until later this week when your shifts aligned to talk to you. 

He walked Jungkook over toward the door, grabbing his car keys off the hook near the entry. 

“Actually, I’m going to go over there. And then I’m going to beg for mercy.” 

You keep replaying those two parts over. Watching closely as Seokjin calls to you from the edge of arousal before tipping over into pure bliss. For now, you have it paused on the moment right before he says your name again and cums. 

He wants you. Or he did at some time. Which means it could very well still be true. Seokjin masturbates to you. He fantasizes about you. You turn him on as much as he turns you on. The vibrator you have suctioning your clitoris buzzes deeper as it scoots over the bud, making a lower groan when it finds a part of you that’s more wet than the rest. 

“Shit,” you say as you feel yourself getting closer to cumming. You pluck at your nipple with your free hand, continuing to move the shoved bra cup out of the way so you can enjoy the prickle of desire pulling toward the surface of your skin. 

You clench around nothing as you watch Seokjin pump his thick cock with one hand. You’re aching to be filled, but you also are too far gone now to move. You will have to orgasm this way,

getting at least some relief before the next. You have time now, the haze of alcohol fading from your bloodstream. It’s almost as if becoming horny made you sober up faster. 

You adjust the settings on the vibrator, upping the intensity. 

So close. You’re almost there. All you need is–

“Y/N?” You hear Seokjin call from somewhere. Your eyes flit to the screen, expecting to see the video unpaused. But that Seokjin is frozen in time. 

A knock echoes through your apartment.

Oh god, Seokjin is here? Right now? 

You quickly flip off the vibrator, chucking it to the floor in your pile of sweaty clothes from earlier. You exit out of the screen, noting that it’s almost 2:30 in the morning. What is he doing here so late? 

You adjust your panties back into place and pull your bra back over your breasts. In a panic, you throw the first thing you see long enough to cover you up and head to the door. 

When you open it, Seokjin is real and standing right in front of you, face flushed and panting. 

“What are you doing here?” You whisper-shout. Now is not the time you want to disturb your neighbors. 

“Please, can I come in?” Seokjin asks urgently, and you nod. 

He steps through the door, closing it behind him carefully. 

“I-I fucked up.” He says. 

You wait for him to finish. He doesn’t. 

“Oh, um, with what?” Playing nonchalant doesn’t serve you. 

“With what? With you. And I’m sorry. Y/N I completely forgot about our date. I honestly have been so overwhelmed with all the new things happening at the restaurant that it slipped my mind. And I haven’t had a phone the last few days, so I haven’t been able to text you.” 

So that explained his ghosting. And him streaming. 

“Oh.” 

“I just. I’m going to come out and say it. I like you. A lot, Y/N. And I do want to take you out to dinner. And I’m also so sorry for not communicating with you. A lot’s happened in the last few days. But I need you to know that I’m sorry.” 

Seokjin looks at you, eyes shimmering, a little wet like he might cry. Your heart squeezes in your chest. 

“You like me?” 

“Yes, I thought it was obvious.” 

“What do you mean you thought it was obvious? You’ve done nothing that would make me think that!” 

Seokjin blushes. “I-I’m sorry. I have been so nervous for a long time that I swore I wouldn’t make the first move until you did. And I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same, I promise you I’ll get over it. But I like you.” 

Seokjin likes you. 

Your brain immediately wants to refute it. No, you couldn’t possibly like me. You’ve mistaken me for someone else. Someone else with my name. Not me. 

“I…”

Ask if he has a fever, if he’s drunk. There’s just no way he could be serious about this. Is this a joke? Please don’t let this be a joke. 

“Oh, uh. God I’m such an ass, I should’ve known. Never mind. I…I should maybe go.” He looks you up and down, and you see his cheeks go beet red. Your eyes follow his gaze down to your ensemble.

Oh, that’s right. You’re standing in front of him wearing some ratty panties and a bra…and his shirt. 

Seokjin’s eyes go wide, and he casts his gaze away. “Sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“No! No, it's fine! You can look!” You say quickly. “I mean, no, don’t go. I…I’m sorry I just am so not good at this and am having a hard time processing it. You like me. Me. Right?”

He nods, eyes still not looking your way. 

“Okay. Okay. Great. This is good! Um, fuck. I like you too. Sorry, I maybe should have led with that.” 

His head snaps in your direction, eyes now fixed completely on yours. “You do?” 

“I thought it was obvious,” you say, repeating his own words back to him. A huge smile blooms on his face. 

He closes the distance between the two of you, pulling your arms you were using to shield yourself for a bit of decency away from your body. You happily concede, wrapping them around him for a tight squeeze. 

He feels like home. There’s no other way to describe it. Security, safety, as if he fits in with the mismatched shelves in the living room. His scent floods into your nose, and you revel in it. It’s long since left his shirt you now wear, and something about it embedding into your skin has you sighing in relief. 

You both stand there for what feels like forever and also not long enough. His fingers gently caress the length of your spine. 

“Y/N?” he asks quietly. 

“Mm?” You force yourself to let go enough to look up at him. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“You’re asking?”

“I feel like we probably should have asked each other the first time it happened.”

“Yeah…you’re right.”

The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable. It’s more patient than anything else. 

“So is that a yes?” he asks lightly, a tiny bit desperate and you laugh, looking back into his deep brown eyes. 

“Yes,” you say. 

Seokjin moves slowly, carefully, almost like every single move he makes is marked with thought and consideration. He lifts your chin with his index finger, rubbing his thumb across your upper lip tenderly. Then, lightly, his hand expands along the length of your cheek, guiding you closer to him. On instinct, you close your eyes. When you feel his lips touch yours, you’re unable to get over how silky and soft they feel. Has this man never experienced chapped lips once in his life? 

You think to tease him, to pull away and ask, but then he’s parting your lips with his, the taste of him enveloping you as his tongue moves into your mouth. God, you’d forgotten how good he tastes. 

You lean deeper into him, letting your exposed stomach collide with the fabric of his pants, your breasts resting along his ribs. Your hands wander along the expanse of his strong, broad back.

When you nip the bottom of his lip with your teeth, you hear him gasp a little bit. 

He pulls back, his eyes dark, lips a little red and swollen. 

“Don’t start something you’re not going to finish,” he warns.

You cock an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

He chuckles softly and drops his hand from your cheek, stepping away. He not-so-subtly adjusts himself in his pants. The air feels cold between you, and like a magnet, you move to close the distance again, craving more of him. 

Seokjin raises his eyebrows in surprise, but he doesn’t dismiss you, instead leaning down as you cup your palm around his neck, and you begin to kiss him again, only this time you venture downward, leaving little pecks along his jawline. As you reach his neck, you test the waters again, sucking the skin between your lips. He moans. 

“Fuck, Y/N, what are you doing?” 

You know the question is rhetorical, but you decide to give him a response anyway, licking along his neck and swirling your tongue in his collarbone. 

God, you can’t believe any of this is real, that he’s real, but you refuse to let the disbelief ruin this moment for you. Instead, you allow your other arm to start shifting down his chest, resting playfully at the waistband of his pants. 

Suddenly, Seokjin rips your hands away from him, and before you can even question what’s wrong, you’re being scooped up and carried across your apartment before being tossed onto your bed. 

“What did I tell you?” he says, a mischievous grin on his face. 

“Mmm, not sure.” This game is getting to be a little too fun. 

“Bad girl,” he mutters and you feel a thrilling rush of desire back to your center. You’ve been wet because of him for so long tonight, and still no relief. But with him here, what more can you really ask for?

You grin, going to move back toward him, to tease his chest this time when you find you’re landed flat on your back with your arms pinned above your head. 

He clicks his tongue. “Nuh uh. Only good girls get to touch.”

Heat, so much heat in your body. Seokjin is resting slightly over your hips. If you angle yourself just right, you might be able to relieve some of the pressure. You buck up, but to no avail. He already saw that move coming and has created distance between you two. 

“Ugh,” you cry in annoyance, but Seokjin laughs. 

“I promise it won’t be so bad, princess.We do need to take a step back anyway. I need to know more about how you’re feeling about this. What you want. And if you keep doing that I’m going to fuck you on this bed right now and will not be able to control myself.”

You gasp at the response, still squirming under him. After a moment of locking eyes with him in the silence, you can’t take much more. 

“Please,” you beg, but over what exactly? You aren’t sure. 

Seokjin knows, though. Somehow he knows exactly what you mean by this. 

“I know. Don’t worry. I’ll give you what you need.” Something in that sentence is so reassuring and you force yourself to relax a bit under his hold. 

He smirks. “Okay. But first, we need to talk.” 

You nod in agreement, and Seokjin releases your wrists, instead tracing his fingers down your arms, past your armpits and over the swell of your breasts. He hums thoughtfully, but continues his exploration down your sides and hips. 

“First of all, what do you want from this?” He gestures between the two of you. 

God, what if you are honest and it isn’t what he wants? You’re about to say whatever you want but as you study his face, you can see that Seokjin is also nervous. His hand is shaking slightly. You reach up and lace your fingers in his. 

“I don’t know what to call it, really. But I want to do this. To spend time with you away from all the everything that can be reality. I want to explore things together. To learn more about you. To build our own world that feels nice to walk around in. It always has felt kind of like we step into something just for us when we are alone. I like when you come over and sit on my couch and do nothing. I want more of that. And,” you guide his hand down unlacing it just as you place his hand over your breast. “I want you to touch me. Especially like this.” 

He keeps his hand still but does not remove it. 

“Can you…tell me what you want?” You feel somewhat embarrassed to ask, despite the fact that he just asked you the same thing. 

“Mmm,” he hums. He begins exploring the silkiness of the bra with his fingertips. You can feel the skimming of them over your nipples. It’s not enough to make them hard, but the promise of it makes you shiver, and that does. His fingers work along the band of the bra, a few of them snaking their way under it and touching the tender flesh on the side. Fuck, he’s torturing you. 

“I think I like the sound of our own little world,” he finally says. “It would be nice to feel a bit more…free.” As Seokjin finishes his sentence, you feel his fingers slink forward, brushing underneath the cup of your bra and lightly plucking at your left nipple. 

You inhale sharply, glancing up from where his fingers roam to his face, which hosts a sexy, lazy smirk. But his eyes are a different story, honed in on you like you’re some kind of prey he’s hunting. 

“Can I take off your bra, princess?” he asks. Fuck, there he goes again with that pet name. 

You nod, but Seokjin shakes his head, clicking his tongue. 

“We are going to need to work on you using your words, aren’t we?” 

It’s a rhetorical question, one without any bite because Seokjin still moves to the clasp on your back, unhooking your bra. Which maybe was a bad move, because you’re still in his shirt, and the straps are beginning to pull away from your shoulders without the weight of your boobs to fix them into place. 

But Seokjin doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looks even more aroused somehow, exhaling through his nose heavily when your breasts drop out from their cups with a little jiggle. You move to begin taking the rest of your clothes off, but he’s already beating you to it, gently slipping his (or now your) shirt away from your shoulders, his hand supporting each arm as he peels away your layers carefully, like he’s opening a Christmas present and wants to preserve the paper. 

It’s when he’s chucked your bra and shirt to the other end of the room that he finally looks at you: chest, stomach, and all. 

“Fuck,” he groans and he leans back, trying to shift his very obvious erection around in his slacks with no success. “So beautiful.” 

Your eyes are fixed on him as he pushes down on his cock with his palm. You know what it looks like, how big it is, but that’s just on a screen, where the size of everything can be hard to compare. 

“Seokjin,” you say breathlessly, and his eyes snap away from your breasts as you lean forward and place your hand on his thigh. 

His breath is just as erratic. God, both of you need to get it together. He looks at you, trying to read your expression with his own concern. 

“I’m fine,” you reassure him, and the wrinkle between his eyebrows softens. “But can I touch you? Please?” 

You’re whispering. Like what you’re doing is some secret. And maybe it is. You hope it’s not, but only time will tell. Seokjin reaches to the hand that you’ve rested on his thigh and moves it up to the heat of his hard length. 

“Touch me wherever you want, princess. I’m yours to play with.” 

Shit. “Shit.” 

His gaze is scorching. He wets his lips and watches you as you explore him, slipping your hands up his abs under his shirt, which he graciously removes when you complain that you’re more naked than him. You remove your hand from his clothed cock and watch him spin into equal desperation as you, a somewhat annoyed look taking over his face as if to ask you what you’re doing. 

You stun him then, tilting your head just so that you can lock his lips with yours. Enough talking. More feeling. Isn’t that what you two do all the time anyway? And if anything it pushes you two further away instead of guiding you closer. He’s yours to play with, and hopefully soon he realizes you’re his to play with too. 

You let your kisses become messy, weaving your tongue through his mouth before sucking on his neck again, feeling a light spank on your butt when you do. 

“Hey,” you say. “That hurt!” It didn’t. Not even a little bit. If anything it makes you squirm more, wanting to grind down onto him but you’re not in the right position for that. Next time, you promise. 

He laughs lightly. “Don’t test me. I’ll make it hurt.”

“So many empty threats. I recall you saying you were going to fuck me?” You readjust your position so your ass is in the air as you trail your tongue down Seokjin’s chest, teasing his nipples on the way down to his navel. 

“Watch your tone, Y/N.” He warns again. This time there’s a little venom behind it. 

“Mm, okay. Sorry. Maybe we need to establish a safe word.” You pop the zipper of his slacks and look up at him. 

He nods. “We’ll use the traffic light system. You know what that is?” 

You scoff. “Of course I do. I read.” 

“Oh, of course. Sorry for asking.”

“You’re forgiven,” you say, pulling the zipper down. He’s wearing black briefs, but you can see a tiny damp spot from where his erection pushes against the fabric. “Can I?”

“Yes, baby. Go ahead.” 

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, you’re tugging downward, whining when the pants don’t budge from how he’s sitting. 

“Here,” he laughs, and lifts his hips so you can tug. As you do, his cock springs free, tapping your wrist as you pull. 

Fuck. Seokjin is huge. You know this. You’ve seen hundreds of photos now and watched numerous videos, but that didn’t prepare you for reality. His tip is that same angry red it is when he’s incredibly aroused, and it’s glistening a little with precum. Your mouth waters. How would he taste? Will he let you taste him?

“Shit, Y/N. Look what you do to me,” he says. 

You blink at him. God, that’s right. You did this to him. He’s this turned on because of you. 

“I didn’t even do anything. You just took my shirt and bra off,” you say. 

“And you think you haven’t gotten me rock hard while fully clothed? God, do you remember that day in the kitchen a few months ago when I had you practicing cutting carrots and you hit your head? Did you not feel anything when you brushed your perfect ass up against me?” 

With that, Seokjin slaps your ass with one hand, the smacking sound ringing out in the room. A slight sting forms under his hand and you can’t help it, you moan. 

“I thought…I thought maybe you were hard but I didn’t know why. I just…I don’t know…I buried it in my memory because I didn’t think it would be true.” 

Seokjin rubs where he slapped, the warm sting soothed by his soft palm. 

“You have no idea how many times I’ve fucked my fist to the memory of you bending over and showing me your tiny little panties. Oh, shit, and those pajama shorts you always wear that ride up your thigh. Fuck. I almost came in my pants that one night you wore those to bed.” 

“I…I didn’t know,” you say weakly. Seokjin sighs and taps your side, pushing you into a sitting position. Your hands still rest on his thighs, right around the base of his cock. 

“Listen, Y/N, I know that I haven’t been the most clear on my feelings from the start, but I’m trying to rectify that now and hear me out. I like you a lot. And I’ve liked you probably since we first met, honestly. I dream about your thighs resting around my face as you sit on it. How sweet your wet pussy must taste. Every time I see you I have to try to think of morbid things to stop myself from popping a boner in public because I’m picturing you naked and waiting for me in my office, my tie in your pretty little mouth to silence your moans as I fuck you on my desk. I want to fuck those overthinking, stressful moments out of you and then feeding you delicious food after as we sit on the couch watching Netflix. 

“You have absolutely no idea what it’s like for me to feel like a horny teenager again the second you walk into a room. But god, I want to show you some amazing, dirty things.” 

You squeeze your legs together, your clit throbbing for attention now that it’s been promised.

“Then do it. Fuck me. Show me amazing dirty things.” You take his hot length in your hands and give him one long stroke. 

“You are such a tease,” he scoffs, which turns into a hiss as you lean down and take him into your mouth. 

God, he’s big. The edges of your lips are struggling to stretch to take him into your mouth. With a flick of your tongue along the tip, though, you wet him enough to slide more fully in. You taste the light tang of precum on your tongue and it makes you salivate more, allowing you to bob up and down as you hollow your cheeks. 

When was the last time you did this? You don’t even remember honestly, it’s all lost in the fog of shitty date nights, of trying to force yourself to take more than you could to prove something to yourself or the guy you were with. 

You know better now; Seokjin is too big to take all of; unless some porn star with no uvula or teeth is sucking him down, there’s no way to shove him all in without it hurting either of you. So you do your best, popping the head of his cock out of your mouth and dribbling some of your saliva around the shaft, laving your tongue along it as you pump him with your wet fist. 

The slick sounds of your hand movements are accompanied by soft little groans as you try to repeat all the things you’ve seen him do before. 

“Fuckkk Y/N. Yes.” You squeeze him a little harder and lick lower, then lower still until you’re making a little figure-8 around his balls. When you pop one into his mouth, he jerks. 

“Shit, fuck, fuck. Hold on, if you keep going I’m going to cum.” 

You hum a little and then you feel your hair leave the nape of your neck and a sharp tug. You gasp and detach yourself, leaving you coming up for air with strings of your spit dripping down your chin. 

Seokjin holds your hair looser in his fist now, cocking an eyebrow at you. 

“Were you trying to make me cum in some insanely short record?” He asks. 

You can’t help but laugh. “No, why? Am I doing a good job?” 

He also laughs and then wipes your chin. “A little too good. My refractory period isn’t that short. And you are still wearing these.” 

Seokjin tugs at the waistband of your panties, and you suddenly feel shy. Why did you decide to wear your most worn out pair today of all days?

“Oh,” you respond, and just as you move to take them off and never speak of them again, he slaps your hand away.

“I didn’t tell you to take them off, did I?” 

“Uh, no, but–”

“Are you attached to them?” He asks and you shake your head. “Good.”

Within seconds, Seokjin rips through the worn out material, tearing it away albeit unevenly, which snaps the elastic to your thighs.

You hiss a little, the tender area of your inner thigh not enjoying the pinch. 

“Are you okay?” And just as easily as Seokjin exudes that sexy dominant self, he’s also light and considerate, something you haven’t witnessed in his streams. 

“Yeah, just got whipped by the elastic right here,” you say and rub at the invisible wound. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and pulls your thigh a little wider, bending down to take a closer look. You open your mouth to tell him you’re okay, but before you get the chance, he’s kissing it delicately, poking his tongue out to just graze your skin and dampen it before pursing his lips and blowing. 

Cold air taps your thighs, which admittedly, are already damp from how turned on you are, and as your skin prickles with goosebumps, you can tell Seokjin takes notice. He glances up at you, ever focused as his tongue begins to explore further inward, lapping at your inner thigh further toward the center. His arms reach out and quicker than you can react, your knees are resting over his shoulders, locking his head between them. He pulls back and winks before licking his plush lips and diving back down, and that’s when you feel him gently pulling your labia into his mouth as he suckles. You never knew that could feel so good. 

A whimper escapes you and that only seems to spur him on, as he detaches from them and laps upward, this time sharply sucking your clit. 

“Fuck,” you moan. You feel him chuckle, but he doesn’t remove himself, instead devouring you more intensely, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thigh as he pushes himself further into it. 

“Goddamn,” he says after a moment, and when he pops up, his eyes are burning, a wicked smile on his face. There’s a sheen of wetness along his cheeks, nose, and chin, and he continues to lick it away. “You’re so wet, princess. Is all of this for me?” 

That nickname again causes warmth to dip down through your core. How is it that he can even stay focused now? You’re so desperate for him your brain can hardly form words. 

“Yes,” you manage to choke out. 

“Mmm, well thank you. I’m eating well.” He kisses the top of your thigh. “I could do this all night.” He begins to dive down, but you throw your hand out, sinking your fingers into his hair. 

“No!”

“No?” He raises his eyebrows and tries to read your expression. 

“I need you,” you say. That’s an understatement. If such a word exists that is greater than need, that’s what you have for Seokjin right now. 

“But I wasn’t done with my meal,” he teases. He runs his fingers through your wet heat, rubbing at your clit. You buck at the direct stimulation, the pressure acting as a welcome relief. “This pussy tastes so good. I don’t know if I’m ready to give it up.”

With that, Seokjin sinks a finger in. God, his fingers are long, finding the rough patch inside of you and stroking at it. You clench around his finger. 

“Hmm, do you think my cock will fit into this tight little cunt?” He asks, and you feel a rush of heat head to your cheeks. The way he can just flip like a switch, to taunt you devilishly, to crack a few jokes and then be so dirty is not just impressive, but so incredibly hot. He begins to retreat his finger from you, which draws out a whine. It feels so good to be filled. 

“Answer my question,” he prods. Everything but the tip of his finger has pulled out. You reflexively clench again, trying to urge it back in. “Is my cock going to fit in here? Or do I need to fuck it open a little bit?” 

You want to answer, you do, but you can’t seem to form a legitimate response besides the first thought that comes to your head.

“Wanna cum,” you say stupidly. 

“Then what do you need to do?” 

“I need to answer your question,” you gasp as he pinches your clit with his other hand. 

“And what is your answer?” 

“I…I need you to fuck me open with your fingers.”

“Mmm, and why?”

“Because my pussy is too tight for your big coc–fuck!” 

Two fingers sink in, pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. You can feel Seokjin curl his fingers toward him as he touches your g-spot. Closer, you’re getting closer. 

“Ugh,” you whine, and as if he can tell what’s bothering you, he latches his mouth back onto your clit, flicking it with his tongue. 

The pressure in your stomach dips, and now you’re clenching firmly around his fingers as they scissor you wider. The slick sounds of him fucking you only add to your arousal. Your hips try to help, but you learn quickly that you’re not helping, you’re edging yourself away from your orgasm. 

“Y/N,” Seokjin says.

“More,” you respond, not caring if he’s scolding you or even concerned. You need more. Now. “Please, more.” 

He replaces his lips with his other hand, rubbing and pinching your clit within his own rhythm.

“Good girl. You’re so fucking beautiful. Look at you. All for me. All mine.” He bends down and pulls a nipple into his mouth. And that’s when you cum, your hips bucking into his hand as he strikes your g-spot head on. 

You can feel your heels tingle as they try to get the blood back into them. Seokjin massages your thighs as he places your legs back down on the bed, helping ground you in the swimming intensity of whatever the fuck just happened. The tremors of the orgasm’s aftershock rock through you, though not for long, as sure enough, he’s lying down on the bed next to you, pulling you close to him as you come back down. You tilt your head to let his lips find yours.  

He tastes like you, and there’s something impossibly hot about that. 

When he pulls back, you can tell how flushed he is, and when you glance down, sure enough his cock is so red and possibly harder than it was before. 

You reach down to relieve some of the pressure but Seokjin shakes his head. 

“We don’t have to tonight,” he says. 

You blanch. “What?” 

“If you don’t want to. I’m glad you came. That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen in my life. And I wanted to make you cum. But you’re under no obligation to go further.”

Is he fucking serious right now? “Did you not just see me choke on your dick? Shall I give you an encore?” Seokjin laughs and you shake your head. “Don’t be diplomatic about this. That looks painful. Fuck the shit out of me like you said you would.”

“I didn’t say I would fuck the shit out of you.” 

“Fine then I’m saying it. Seokjin, I have wanted you to fuck the shit out of me since you walked into my interview at the restaurant and asked me if I knew what the difference between scallions and chives are.” 

“You’d be surprised how many people don’t know the difference! I didn’t want an idiot on my staff to have to mentor.” 

“You’re missing the point.” You laugh, leaning in and nipping at his shoulder. “I have wanted you since day one. I am the definition of down bad. Every book I’ve read in almost a year has me picturing you as the love interest who absolutely destroys the pussy of the main character. You’ve been haunting me for months. Now please make good on my fantasy.”

“Wait wait. What’s the best fantasy?” 

“I don’t know!” You say. But he knows you’re lying. 

“Tell me,” he urges. 

“No,” you say. “I don’t know!”

“Is it one where I’m some giant alien with a huge blue cock that only has the urge to breed you?” 

Head floods your face. “What? No! First of all, how do you even know about that book?”

“I’m chronically online,” he deadpans. Ah, you realize. Of course it’s come up in his other profession. “Enlighten me then. What is the fantasy?”

He laces his fingers with yours and pulls your fist to his mouth. Then he begins his strategy anew, giving soft, tender kisses along your inner arm as he makes his way up, pausing to kiss your shoulder and clavicle before delivering a scorching kiss on your lips. You feel yourself melting into him, eagerly trying to get more and more of him. 

“Your secret is safe with me,” he whispers in your ear before lightly nipping at your earlobe. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I would never make fun of you for having a fantasy about something, especially if I’m involved.” 

You sigh, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. You hide your face in his broad shoulder. “It’s…it has to do with the pet name you started calling me recently.”

“Ah…princess?” A shiver runs down your spine. “Do you like it when I call you that?” 

“Yes,” you mutter. A hum rumbles through Seokjin’s chest. He shifts, sitting up on the bed. And then you feel him use that insane strength to pull you up with him, fixing you to sit in his lap. His cock is right against your pussy and you have to fight the urge to grind against him. 

“What do you like about it?” He asks and you pause, trying to not show all of your cards. He’s your friend, and possibly is becoming something more. But you’re not sure what you want to tell Seokjin about your past. 

You choose your words carefully. “I like the idea of being precious to you. To be seen as important enough to be royalty. Powerful enough.” You pull back and look at him. “And I like the idea that I have power…you never have used that over me. Except maybe once but you were so responsive to my feedback when we talked back in February about me streaming and school. Like, no I didn’t want you telling me what to do. But I liked that you respected me enough to back off and let me figure things out. That means a lot to me. You always let me figure things out.”

“Well, yeah. Because it’s your life. You have a right to choose for yourself. No one gets to decide what choices you’ll make on your behalf. And making choices doesn’t make you a bad person or a good person. You just are, Y/N.” 

Tears well up in your eyes. “Thank you for saying that. It hasn’t always felt that way.” 

Seokjin curls his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. “In terms of power, this is how things are supposed to be. You shouldn’t feel powerless around me. Especially not here. Just because I’m assuming a role that’s more dominant doesn’t mean you’re not in complete control. Just because in some places in my life I’m ‘in charge’ doesn’t mean that I decide what goes on here. You’re in complete control of what you want and how you want it.” 

You bury your face into his chest. If you could hold onto a moment forever, this would be it. After a few moments of silence, you hug Seokjin close to you, and then pull back, looking up at him. His eyes are so warm and tender as he gazes back down at you and you feel a tug in your chest. This, this is what safety feels like.  

He begins rubbing your back and you stifle a nod, but he catches it. “Do you want to go to bed?” 

You roll your eyes before rutting against him. He grunts. “I want to tell you about my fantasy,” you decide and he laughs. 

“Okay, princess. Go for it.” 

“Okay so we’re in the throne room. And I’m sitting on the throne. You’re my loyal knight. You’ll do anything to please me.” 

“Mmm, doesn’t sound too far off from the truth.” You pinch his side. “Yah! Stop it.” 

“Don’t interrupt me. So you’ll do anything for me. Slay beasts, accompany me on my journeys, defend me to the court. You’re my friend and my backup for when shit hits the fan. Anyway, after a long fought battle where you know, you pine after me for a while, you snap. And you decide you need me and you need me now.” 

You begin to rock against his length, and Seokjin grins, starting to follow your movements. “Tell me more,” he says, his cock sliding between your wet lips. 

“So after this long, arduous journey, you decide you need to claim me. Maybe it’s jealousy that I’m being promised to some king in a far away kingdom or something. But after meeting with me in the throne room, you get down on your knees and force my legs apart. 

“‘Princess’, you say to me, ‘I’ve learned in this world that time is not promised, and because time isn’t promised, I need you to know now how I truly feel. I am on my knees, letting you know I need you. Please, let me worship you,’ and being the diplomatic princess I am, I open my legs for you and you begin eating me out like your life depends on it. And then, ah…it gets kind of kinky,” you say, heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“Hmm. Are you curious about kink? Or have you been part of kink communities?” Seokjin asks thoughtfully. 

“Definitely curious. Not really experienced,” you offer. 

“Noted. Continue.” 

“So, you decide to crawl under my skirt, eating me out like your life depends on it, but then my chambermaid or someone comes in and says I have a meeting soon I need to prepare for. 

“But I’ve kept you under my gown, really well hidden because it’s so annoyingly big, and all the while you’re still teasing me. Trying to test and see if I’d cum with others around.”

“And do you?”

“Sometimes in the fantasy I do, yeah. And usually by that point, I get discovered and you keep going, so unbothered by people watching. Or sometimes we don’t get caught, and the second the others leave I’m riding you naked on my throne wearing only my crown.” You are panting now, your slick body fully stimulating Seokjin’s cock, which is leaking precum again. 

“Mmm, I like that. A little exhibition kink in there. So desperate to be fucked you don’t care who sees. That’s pretty hot.” 

“Uh huh. So, so desperate.” 

“Is your pussy that needy in your fantasy? Or is that how it is now?”

“Fuck, Seokjin.” 

“Yes princess?”

“Please.”

He leans down, claiming your lips as you two continue to rub your bodies against each other, sliding skin against skin with delicious friction. When his cock slides at a particular angle, you feel it rub straight over your clit in a way that has you moaning. 

Seokjin rips away his lips from yours, instead latching onto your neck for a deep suck that you know is going to leave a mark. But you don’t care. God not even a little bit.

“Such a good girl for me, aren’t you? My girl is so needy for my cock, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Please, more,” you respond, shifting your hips to try and get him closer to where you need him. 

“Not even patient at all, are you?” You know this is him playing it up, because the way he’s breathing suggests he, too, isn’t very patient. He slides a little more, grinding his hips into you. 

“I need you. I need it,” you whine, and Seokjin slows his grinding for a moment, a thought clearly crossing his mind. 

“Oh, shit. I don’t have any condoms,” he says weakly. You grind down again, a bit harder this time. 

“I’m on birth control.” Your next appointment for your birth control shot is in a month. You should be fine. 

“I’m clean,” he offers, hands going to your ass and shoving you further into him, the weight of his large hands on your hips making you dizzy. 

“I would hope so. I put your cock in my mouth earlier. We probably should have established that sooner,” you copy his previous movement and suck on the hollow of his collar bone, hoping you’re marking him as he marked you.

A strained laugh leaves his chest. “You’re right. And you’re clean too?”

“Yes, sorry.” You stop gyrating. You know you need to be more serious about this. “I’m clean. And…I also haven’t had sex in a long time so I’m sorry if I’m not good at this.”

He sighs. “Pause.”

Oh shit, you think. Does that turn him off? What if he doesn’t want to have sex with someone who has been so obviously horny and lonely for a while? It’s not like you’re a sex god like he is. You can barely even say what you want and where you want it. Maybe he doesn’t want to have sex with someone who needs this much direction. After all, what fun is it when you have to instruct your partner how to make you come because they have no instincts? 

You are about to break down, to call it all off, and then you look at Seokjin again, feel how hard he is under you, see the perspiration dotting his hairline. He said only a few minutes ago that you almost made him cum with your blowjob skills. He admitted he likes you. 

You know he wants you, regardless of how many times you’ve had sex in comparison to him. There’s proof right in front of you that this man wants you. You take a deep breath. “Sorry. I…I don’t know why I’m apologizing actually.” You force a nervous laugh. 

His eyebrows twist closer together. “You don’t…need to apologize for your sex experience. It’s not being graded.” 

“I know, I know. And I also know that sex is different for every single pair of people. It’s less about being good and more about listening to your partner and figuring it out together. If you were treating me sexually the same way as you treated other people you’ve had sex with, it would probably be…maybe not as good? Because we might not like the same things.

“But I guess I just…I’m a little insecure; that’s all.”

“Okay. That’s ok. I feel a bit insecure too. This is all really vulnerable and I’m terrified I’m not going to know what you want or pay enough attention to check in.” 

“Why?” You ask. You’re surprised to hear Seokjin is insecure about anything. 

“Because I want you so much, Y/N. I have never felt such intense, deep desire like this and I’m afraid that once I get a taste of you I’ll just want more and I’ll start bending the rules for my own sick pleasure.” 

“Has….has that ever happened before? Where you crossed boundaries?”

“Never. And that’s why it’s so terrifying. I’ve never felt so out of control before. You look at me a certain way and I get so hard I swear my dick will fall off. I’ve always been so collected but with you I feel scrambled and like if I’m not careful I’ll, I’ll–”

“You’ll fuck the shit out of me?” You tease and you see Seokjin’s concern wash away as you giggle. “Isn’t that what I told you to do anyway?”

He grins. “Yeah, you did.” 

“Well then let’s remember what you said before. Traffic light system when it’s needed. Or, for now, maybe we can just trust that if we are uncomfortable we’ll say something? Since this is so new…Stop means stop for now. A color if we feel like we aren’t being taken seriously. Just to be sure.”

Seokjin nods, then tenderly kisses your forehead. “Okay, I like that.”

“Good, because I am so wet and if you don’t fuck me soon I might explode.” 

You both laugh at that, but your laughter is turned into a tight moan when you feel Seokjin’s hand slip from around your back and down to your clit. You hum in delight. 

“Feel good baby?” 

“Yes,” you say, clenching as he rolls his thumb around your nub. 

“You’re so wet. Shit.” His hand moves to his cock, jerking it in his fist a few times before gently tapping your thigh so you push up a bit away from his lap. He adjusts the angle, brushing his cockhead against you to gather some of your arousal. And then, he’s inside.  

Holy shit. You can feel him stretching you, testing your limits, your body spasming around the girth of him as he nestles deep in you, making you feel exceptionally full. 

“Oh god,” you moan, grinding down to the hilt. 

“Oh, fuck, Y/N. You’re so fucking tight.” 

Both of you take an exasperated breath and you can’t help but giggle at your dual reaction. “Damn, where have you been hiding that thing?” You joke and Seokjin hisses. 

“Ah, ah, careful. When you laugh you squeeze around me and you feel so good. But to answer your question, either you’ve been oblivious every time I’ve popped a boner around you or you know damn well where I’ve been keeping it.” 

He tests the waters, rolling his hips a little. A gasp escapes from you. Seokjin grins at you devilishly and you cock an eyebrow before clenching down in retaliation. His eyes widen. “Y/N,” he warns.

You bat your eyelashes innocently. “Sorry, but you did this,” you say, echoing his earlier sentiment back to him. “You made me this way for you.” You shove your hips back, causing him to grunt. 

“I don’t know how long I’ll last, it’s been a while.” 

“I don’t care. It’s fine. Cum whenever you want. Just, god, don’t stop.” 

A dark look casts across his face. “Alright. Just remember this is what you asked for.” 

Seokjin pulls out. What? How is this supposed to be what you asked for? You make a pathetic noise at the loss, pouting at him as he lays you down softly onto your sheets. 

He clicks his tongue at you. “So needy.” Maybe he’s trying to sound condescending, but he’s also smiling. He leans forward to push some of your hair out of your face, his palm resting on your cheek. “So beautiful.”

Something in your chest clenches, and you take a deep breath to try and break apart the feeling. But it’s still there, so deep in your chest you don’t think anything is going to make it go away. And you’re also not sure you want it to. 

You lean into his palm, pecking it with your lips before glancing up at him. He swallows hard. Seconds pass as Seokjin follows the lines of your body with his eyes, as if he’s trying to memorize you. As if you might just slip away. He breathes unevenly, and you see his eyes glistening in the dim light of your room. 

“Hey,” you say hoarsely, reaching a hand over to his thigh and poking it. “Come back to me.” 

He blinks a few times and takes another breath, this time a steadier one. “Sorry, I was getting lost in my thoughts.”

“Are you okay?” You ask. “Do you want to stop?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “No, no I’m fine. I was just thinking about how long I wanted this. And maybe longer than I even realized. But I’m okay.”

You get it; for some reason the energy between the two of you is so intense, charged with waves of emotion you didn’t even know you can feel. “Okay,” you say, and you reach out your hand for him to lace with this. “How do you want me?”

This seems to refocus things. Right now you’re lying flat on your back, your legs slightly open, and you know that’s not how Seokjin planned to position you. He grins and takes your hand, leading it to the back of your thigh that he lifts. You follow his lead, spreading your legs so that you’re grasping behind both your knees, incredibly open and vulnerable for him once more. 

He reaches behind you and puts a pillow under your neck before grabbing the other. With a simple lift of your hips, he scootches the pillow under your hips, creating an angle for your back to rest more comfortably and clearly, allowing him to reach deeper. 

From this angle, you can also see better as he strokes his cock a few times before positioning himself between your legs. 

“If for some reason this hurts at any point, tell me and we’ll find something more comfortable for you, okay?” You hum in agreement, staring down at his length, clenching as you ache to feel it filling you once again. 

He snorts. “Verbal agreement please, Y/N. Remember our rules.” 

“Yes,” you say eagerly and without any more conversation, he takes himself in his hand and fucks into you. 

“Jin,” you breathe. Did he get bigger? You know that there’s no way that can be true, that it’s probably due to how you’re angled for him to reach deeper, but each stroke is deliciously dizzying. 

Seokjin responds with a concentrated grunt and then he pulls out completely. 

“No! No please,” you beg and feel him sheath himself back into you, harder. 

“God, such a pretty little pussy you have, don’t you?” He rocks his hips back, kissing against your cervix, which elicits a deep moan as he begins to thrust harder, the slap of his balls against your wetness sounding so incredibly filthy. “Taking me so well, princess.” 

Seokjin groans but doesn’t relent, instead leaning more of his weight onto you, forcing your legs to tuck in closer to your chest. At this angle, he rubs directly against your g-spot, sending a shiver down your spine. “Oh my god, there! Please!” Thank god he listens, snapping his hips with short, hard thrusts. You’re so close. 

“You gonna cum for me?” He pants, sweat now thoroughly beading down his temples and blooming on your chest. You nod. Words aren’t forming in your head. 

“Poor baby, did I fuck you stupid? Cum for me princess. Cum on this cock.” You don’t need much more convincing, and you feel yourself shake as you orgasm, clamping down on him. Your hands go loose on your thighs, fingers tingling so much that they can no longer hold on. 

“Good girl. That’s it baby, just let go, I’ve got you.” He intercepts your legs before they close, pushing himself forward and angling you back as he continues to thrust. Maybe it’s the feeling , or his sweet affirmation, but your vision blurs and you feel yourself blink away a few stray tears that leak from the corners of your eyes and down your cheeks. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Seokjin says, teeth gritted as he thrusts again. And again. And again. You feel your muscles tighten as you brace yourself for another orgasm, and find enough strength to reach down to your clit and rub it. The sudden pleasure spikes once more and you’re falling again, this time your body quaking roughly as Seokjin finally cums, his cock twitching as a pleasurable warmth spills into you. 

You study his face, fascinated how you’ve seen it before, yet it feels so different to witness it in person. The tendons in his neck protrude, and you feel the energy of the room sink into blissful exhaustion as he rolls the both of you onto your sides while still connected. 

He sighs and then closes his eyes, his dick twitching a little here and there, but overall beginning to go soft inside you. You feel the flood of cum beginning to leak around it, but you don’t care right now, no. 

Right now you are studying Seokjin and perhaps doing what he was doing to you before: memorizing everything about him in case it’s the only time you’ll see him this way. Any minute, he could decide this is a huge mistake, and he’ll flee out the door apologizing. But for the moment, you are studying the moles and freckles that dot along his neck and back, counting them so you can commit the number to memory.  

“What are you staring at me for?” He asks, though his eyes remain closed. 

“I’m just thinking,” you say. 

His eyes flit open. “You don’t regret it, do you?” 

“Not at all, I just…I’m thinking about where we go from here. I don’t want this to be the only time.” You shake your head and smile shyly. Everything feels so tender right now. But you know honesty is needed more than anything. 

Seokjin shifts, and you hiss a little as you feel him slip out of you, wetness dribbling onto your sheets. You’ll definitely have to wash these tomorrow. 

“It doesn’t have to be a one time thing if you don’t want it to be. Like I said before; I like you, I want to date you.” 

“We kind of skipped the first date and had sex instead though,” you chuckle and Seokjin rolls his eyes. 

“Yes, well, we aren’t really playing things by the book right now anyway. This can be our first date.”

“It’s not though! We didn’t go on a date, we just talked and had sex.”

“Yah! It was not just sex. It was great sex! I think that counts for something. Do dates require any more?” 

“Usually eating something, leaving the house. Two things we’ve failed to do.”

Seokjin suddenly rolls away, standing and searching for his clothes, gathering them in his hands. 

“Where are you going?” You ask, shifting yourself up in the bed. 

“Get dressed,” Seokjin says, pulling his slacks up his waist. “We are going out to eat.” 

“It’s 4am! Isn’t everything closed?” 

“Not the convenience store. We are going to solidify this as a date by having post-sex 4am ramyeon and kimbap and maybe some dessert. And then I will walk you to your door, kiss you goodnight and you’ll invite me in to hang out. Then we’ll have sex again until you kick me out and decide the first date is over.” 

He reaches into the pile of laundry in the corner, grabbing your bra and tosses it to you. As you begin to pull it over your body, you notice Seokjin has frozen over another pile of your strewn laundry. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, latching the hooks into place. 

He shifts a little, pulling whatever he was looking at from the pile. Embarrassment floods through your stomach as you realize what he’s holding. 

“Do you normally toss your vibrators into your laundry or is today my lucky day?” 

He holds the purple clitoral vibrator in front of you and you hide your face behind your hands. “Ahh no! This is so embarrassing!” 

Seokjin laughs and walks over, pulling your hands from your face. “What about this is embarrassing? First, you stream raunchy pornographic games sometimes to thousands of strangers. And second, I just spent a good chunk of this last blissful hour with my mouth serving as your personal sex toy.” 

“I know, it’s just that. This is different somehow. Like now you know!”

“Know what? That you masturbate? Well, yeah I kind of figured you did. Do you think I don’t?”

“I know you do.” 

“How?”

Shit. You can’t tell him you’ve seen him do it on his channel. “Um, well, you said so earlier you do.” Seokjin chuckles and then begins rifling through your dresser across from your bed, grabbing you a fresh pair of panties since he destroyed the last pair you were wearing. 

“Touché. But anyway, it’s good that you masturbate. It’s healthy. And also, it’s none of my business if you do or don’t. Unless you want to show me sometime, which I would beg to see, whatever you choose to do when I’m not around is your business.” 

He gathers together a large, baggy t-shirt and some joggers from your closet. “One sec,” he says, telling you to pause as you begin to maneuver into your panties, the stickiness of your combined arousal beginning to dry between your legs in an uncomfortable way. 

He returns a few seconds later with a damp washcloth and instructs you to lie back, opening your legs slightly to wipe away the mess.

“You don’t have to do this,” you insist but Seokjin continues anyway. 

“I know, I want to. I want to make sure you receive proper aftercare.” When he finishes, he kisses your kneecap. “Okay, let’s go.”

You groan, fully content to just lie in bed, but your stomach says otherwise. It ekes out a deep gurgle and Seokjin smiles smugly. 

“Ugh, fine. I’ll use the bathroom and get dressed. But just know if they don’t have the ramyeon I like there, I’m making you drive around town until we find it.” You flop out of bed with your pile of fresh laundry and head out of the bedroom toward the bathroom. 

“Sounds great,” he calls behind you. “Sounds like the perfect first date.”

©2024 by jooniperbonsai

[meowmeowriley]

Hi long time lurker first time (off anon) asker. I saw your latest post asking for usernames for your internet friends au and I have a couple ideas you can totally ignore if they suck

Gardengnomze

(Un)luckyrabbitsfoot

Poa-tay-toes68

Randomguy (is a girl)

Randomgirl (is a guy)

I like to think the randoms are married and made their names to mess with people also they’re tft.

As a bonus option

Roach

Stealing all of these, actually. Mildly obsessed with the randoms now, thanks. Also bonus Roach? Ummmm you do be cooking... I gotta include the bug boy now 😋

[lemonduckisnowawake]

Someone kick me if I don't write something for TFT/FTE DND AU by Sunday

[melanodis]

also thinking about jeremy in plex au having another run in with glitchtrap. hmgh. more parallels to tft//bl with the whole synthetic eye and virtual ghost. yanking that shit OUUUUTTT.

"just how long did you think you could evade me? nosy, nosy... poking around in places you're not supposed to be!"

[strayfoxxchan]

Team [Crush] Tactics

Pairing: Bang Chan x f!reader

Genre: Fluff, Major League Gaming AU lmfao

Content Warning: Some cussing, awkward flirting

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: There's lots of gaming stuff in here, sorry! But I try to explain TFT in noob terms for those of you who haven't played.

Tag List: @minnysproutgriffinteddy (It wont let me tag you!)

The crowd was going wild. Thousands had crammed into the arena, their faces glowing with pink and blue lights from above. 

The stage felt too high, and the monitors over your head seemed too massive to comprehend. Your palms were clammy, slipping off the mouse in front of you. You shake them a few times, hoping to dry the sweat and clear the knot building in your throat. 

“Hey, cowboy up,” Cameron, your teammate, punches you in the shoulder. “We’ve got this, and these guys ain’t shit.” He looks across to the opposite end of the stage and sneers. 

“Stop sneering,” you grumble at him, rubbing the spot he’d hit with more force than he’d likely meant to. “You’re embarrassing me.” You feel yourself shrinking into the uncomfortable gaming chair. Ergonomic, my ass. 

A lot of Team Fight Tactics is strategic: building into character types to gain bonuses for your team, understanding where to place each character on the board, and leveling them up to acquire more health and hitting power. If you play your cards right, so to speak, you can wipe the board in a matter of seconds. But much of it also comes down to lucky RNG and quick thinking. 

You know the only way you’ll win this is to calm down and keep your head straight. You have no time for intimidation when the timer is running. Although you play on a team of yourself and three men, Team Fight Tactics is primarily a solo endeavor. Ultimately, you’re also playing against your teammates to win. 

The announcers are chatting amongst themselves over the incredibly loud speakers, preparing the audience for the battle ahead. Before you know it, they’re announcing the teams. As each member of your team called, they stand, wave, and dance, grinning cockily. When the announcer shouts your name, you simply stand, give a nervous smile, and throw a peace sign at the crowd, earning you an eruption of cheers and whistles. As quickly as you had stood, you are back to sinking into the chair. 

You stare at the opposite team as their names are called. 

This is the first time you’ve heard about this team, and you’re positive they’re never heard of you either. It was your first MLG tournament, after all, and it seems to be theirs as well. They look triumphant, proud of themselves for having made it to this point. Their names float through your ears as if in a dream.

But, the last name is called, and instead of pumping up the audience as his other teammates had, he stands, looking directly at you, and winks before sitting back down. Bang Chan, they had said. The name sticks in your mind. 

Before you realize it, the match has started. The carousel is turning, and your eyes dart across the screen, looking for Brawlers. You spot her instantly: Vi walks the carousel haughtily. As the barrier drops, you run. Score. 

Each time the shop pops, you pull as many Brawlers as you can, throwing in whatever Laser Corps champions you can get your hands on. The timer, in the beginning, gives you some time to sort out items, and the auto battles allow you to survey the other team for a moment or two. Around round 3, you look up during the battle, and Bang Chan looks up at the same time. He grins at you and winks again, the overhead lights glow on his dimples. Your heart skips for a moment before your eyes dart back down to the screen. 

“Is he trying to intimidate me?” You say to yourself. 

“Who?” Cameron glances at you, raising a brow. 

“What?” You could have sworn you used your inside voice. 

You continue building your team to the best of your ability. You manage, with some lucky RNG, to grab Mordekaiser, building into him as much as you can. It’s a near unbeatable combination, and your confidence begins to grow. 

Bang Chan’s name shows up on your screen. It’s time to knock that wink right out of him. The battle ends quickly with you on top. Your killing streak hits 9. As it ends, you look up at him and wink. His frown slowly grows into a smile full of fire, eyes narrowed as if to say “You’ll pay for that one.” 

Your teammates are dropping like flies. Their overconfidence has done nothing to benefit the team. The opposing team still stands fairly strong. You’ve been stuck at 90 health for almost 11 rounds. You manage to hold your own for a few more rounds before things begin to go wrong.

It’s 2 against 1. Bang Chan and his teammate, Felix, are still standing. You are all that’s left to defeat them. 

You can do this, you know you can. You manage to pull one over on Felix, knocking him down to -5 health, and you can’t help but to jump up and let out a roar unbecoming of the tiny woman you are, but the crowd erupts. 

It was at that moment, however, that you knew this match couldn’t be won. Felix had knocked enough health out of you that you were down to only 19 hit points, while Bang Chan managed to keep around 55.

As the final battle commences, your heart drops. He’d been building into Jax. There was no way. You bite your lip as you look up at him, not willing to watch your team get murdered.

He meets your gaze, eyes darting from your bitten lip to your worried brow. His eyes soften, a devilish smile playing on his lips. 

You lose the battle in 2nd place. 

The stadium is split nearly in half, some groaning, some cheering, but all spirited and screaming. The host appears on stage, pulling the two of you into the middle by the wrists, raising Bang Chan’s hand high into the air, and leaving yours to the side. As the announcer's words fade into the background noise, Bang Chan moves to stand beside you.

“Hey,” he says simply.

“Hey.” You cross your arms. “Good game.”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “What are you doing after this?”

“What?”

“What?” he repeats after you. 

“I-I’m not d-doing anything after this,” you answer his question belatedly, taking a few moments to process. 

“Oh, yeah, good… Cool.” He nods. 

“...Why?” You pause, glancing at him. 

“I was just thinking… maybe we could talk strats after this?”

“S-strats?” You turn to him. “W-what?” You take in his features: his dark hair and eyes, shy smile and full lips, his handsomely carved nose. For a gamer, he looked strong, like he could throw you over his shoulder and run a mile with no effort.  

“Over dinner?” He clears his throat, shaking you out of your reverie. “Do you want to go to dinner after this, I mean?” He tries this again with a little more confidence. For a man who spent the near hour the match had taken winking at and slaughtering you, he was really bad at this game.

“How can you be so smooth yet so awkward at the same time?” You attempt to stifle a laugh, but you blush instead, confident the color of the lighting would hide this. “Is dinner on you?”

“I mean, I did just a really big check,” he motions at the giant piece of printed cardboard leaning on his side. You had been in such a daze, you hadn’t even noticed the announcer handing it to him. 

“Are you just doing this because I’m a girl and I almost beat you?” You crinkle your nose at him, just slightly uneasy.

“I’m not that shallow, but I can’t deny, you’re pretty sexy in a ‘she could definitely take me in a fight’ kind of way.” He shrugs. “I would like to get to know you before I decide to make a move, though.” The confidence sticks this time, making your heart race. “Looks aren’t everything.”

You consider this. “Only if you reveal all your secrets to me. That Jax kicked my ass.” You grin and wink, earning a wink back. 

“Deal.”

[emonerdboy]

Next part of the MLP horror au!

Rainbow Dash, he/him in my au because I said so <3 if U don't like it that's ok just move on it's not that deep.

{{day 1 of the outbreak}}

Rainbow Dash is currently looking for applejack (also he/him they're TFT) as the two of them planned to go on a picnic together but when rainbow arrived at applejacks farm, he was no where to be found, big Mac also was unsure as to where he was but told rainbow he last saw applejack out in the orchard.

So rainbow Dash headed off to the orchard, hundreds of apple trees adorning the land, hundreds of acres to get lost.

Such an easy land for danger the lurk.

(sorry this is a short one I have a bit of writer/art block since I don't normally draw ponies and idk I don't like how I draw them compared to others but it's good practice!)

[burritello3000]

The Fifth Turtle Prologue

49’s mouth fell open at the sight of a shining… ghost lady? The ghost was wearing what looked like clothes from Japan. 49 had seen some in her Sensei’s dojo. Don’t think about him! She mentally kicked herself. 

The ghost lit up the room as she looked at 49 with kind eyes. The turtle had many questions, but was afraid to speak out loud in case this was a trick and Bishop was listening. 49 wasn’t even sure if she could speak. After all, she hadn’t spoken since Bishop took her.

“Do not worry,” Ghost Lady whispered softly, a tender look in her gaze. “I will not hurt you. However, I have much to tell you…”

(This is basically a little sister au)

49 was awakened by a light, yet warm, touch. She jerked sideways and tried to sit up, her arms burning with the effort. 49 half-closed her eyes because of the bright green light in front of her.

She shivered. Was this another one of Bishop’s horrible experiments? She heard a soft murmuring, “Oh my child…” Resisting the urge to scratch at her scars, her eyes adjusted to the green glow.

49’s mouth fell open at the sight of a shining… ghost lady? The ghost was wearing what looked like clothes from Japan. 49 had seen some in her Sensei’s dojo. Don’t think about him! She mentally kicked herself. 

The ghost lit up the room as she looked at 49 with kind eyes. The turtle had many questions, but was afraid to speak out loud in case this was a trick and Bishop was listening. 49 wasn’t even sure if she could speak. After all, she hadn’t spoken since Bishop took her.

“Do not worry,” Ghost Lady whispered softly, a tender look in her gaze. “I will not hurt you. However, I have much to tell you…”

Three months later…

Donnie’s phone rang as he was working on writing SHELLDON’s code in his lab. He rubbed his eyes, tired after staring at the screen, and reached for his phone. “You are conversing with Donatello,” he answered, holding back a yawn. 

“DONNIE!!!” April shouted from the other end. “Turn on the news!” Donnie flinched, feeling irritated. “Do you have to scream,” he grumbled, swiveling around and getting up from his seat.

“Just do it,” April commanded. “Trust me, and HURRY.” Donnie sighed, heading towards the living room. “I’m hurrying.”

“No time for sarcasm, D,” she shouted. “Yeeeesh, no need to yell, April,” Donnie quipped back. He could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

Donnie entered the room, spotting Leo quietly watching Jupiter Jim on the couch. Papa must still be asleep, he mused. No surprise, it’s four in the morning.

He snatched the remote and shut off the movie, earning a protest from his blue-masked brother. “Hey! I was watching that.” Leo scrambled towards him. “Give it back!”

Donnie ignored him, switching to the news channel. “April called, rudely interrupting me, might I add, and said to turn on the news so I’m just doing what she said. Unlike you’d like to argue with her, my dear brother.” Donnie waved the phone around. Leo shot him a glare followed by a shrug. “I don’t see the problem.”

“That’s what I thought,” Donnie said, sitting down beside his twin. He turned up the volume just as Raph stomped into the room, holding a sleepy, retracted Mikey. “It is four o’clock in the morning! I hope you have a good explanation for this argument.” 

Leo stuck his tongue out at Raph as Mikey slowly poked his head out his shell. “Oh come on we weren’t that loud, maybe you’re a light sleeper.”

Raph glared at Leo. “Look, I know you guys can’t sleep but can you at least let us sleep?” Leo gasped dramatically and fell off the couch.

“How dare you accuse me. Donnie started it!” Donnie rolled his eyes. “Gasp! How dare you accuse me Nardo.”

Raph let out a low grumble. “Both of you be quiet. Pops is still asleep.” Leo wouldn’t let the argument go that easily. “First of all, Donnie’s the one that stole the—”

“Ummm, guys,” Mikey interrupted, his limbs popping out of his shell. “You should look at the TV.” Everyone turned toward the screen in confusion.

The title on the screen read: Could There Be Monsters Hiding In Our City?

It showed a woman with a microphone, who was clearly a news reporter, and a man wearing a suit-lab coat hybrid looking thing, black shades, and slick black hair. 

“For those just tuning in, I am here with scientist Johnathon Bishop,” the woman announced, the thick hair piled into a bun on her head bouncing. “Do you mind telling us more about your amazing discovery?”

She handed the microphone over to the man. “Thank you, Irma,” he replied, a sly smile on his face. “I am but a humble researcher, rejected by my peers at a young age. However, despite all that, I clawed my way up to the top after making a startling discovery four years ago today.”

Irma pushed up the thick, square glasses that threatened to slide from her nose. “Everyone wants to know, Mr. Bishop. What is this breakthrough you keep mentioning? We have only heard rumors so far!”

Bishop held the microphone up to his lips, a twinkle in his eyes. “I have found the most peculiar creature. A humanoid animal, sentient and sapient. A mutant, a monster, a freak.”

Irma’s eyes widened. “A monster?!” She squeaked, fear sparking in her gaze. 

“Yes,” Bishop confirmed. “A monster. It is unpredictable and vicious, but don’t worry. We have contained it. It will soon be on display for scientific study and human enjoyment at the Peterman Zoo. It may be a turtle, but do not be fooled by its looks and fake docile nature.”

Donnie’s phone slipped out of his hand in shock as Bishop continued. “I don’t sugg—” Leo shut off the TV, his knuckles white from gripping the remote so hard. Not a noise was heard as everyone took in the news.

Donnie broke the silence. “Well, I guess I’ll start doing some research.”

Am I the only one that thinks Donnie sits in one of those super comfy swivel chairs that the teachers in 4-6 grade always tell you not to sit on but everyone sits in them anyway? I can also imagine him using it to spin around while stroking SHELLDON when someone enters the room, lol.

Next Chapter:

[melancholy-of-nadia]

incoming teaser;;

teaser: love u lately #2 (m) - pears pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon to lovers; summary: "I can't replace what we started, I did. Everything that you could've wanted. Everything's better when you're honest" - Pears, Weston Estate warnings: conflicting feelings in the teaser! jimin making you have feels! more posted at drop date est. drop date: oct. 9 2023 1pm est. word count: 7.2k love u lately masterlist cross posted on ao3

-

Jimin bursts into laughter. "Level two Vayne? Maybe I’m underestimating you, Kappa Psi Pi President Kim."

Seokjin grins proudly. "You'll see, Jimin. Soon, I'll be climbing the TFT ranks and taking over the leaderboards. Just you wait!"

Their banter continues, filled with laughter and warmth.

This feels just like normal, you think to yourself. It feels like before the breakdown you had on Friday and spending the night with Yoongi. It feels like before Namjoon started getting closer with Jihyo through their shared major classes. It feels like before Taehyung convinced Jimin to go on a double date which led him to date Irene. What went wrong? Yoongi’s question from Friday night surfaces again, hidden from the haze of your feelings that night. Are you in love with one of them…or all of them? Or is there something more that you still haven’t realized at this point in time.

You find yourself falling behind, lost in thought as you are about to approach the crosswalk off campus and reach home. The burden of unspoken secrets and shifting dynamics within your group weighs on your mind. You walk at a slower pace, the distance between you and your friends growing.

Noticing your lagging steps, Jimin suddenly stops mid-sentence and turns around, a playful grin on his face. He hurries back toward you and, without missing a beat, links his arm through yours. His touch is warm and familiar, a comforting reminder of the deep connection you share.

"Hey there, slowpoke," Jimin teases, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You laugh, the tension that had been building within you slowly dissipating. "Sorry, just got lost in thought for a moment."

Seokjin glances back and notices Jimin linking arms together with you. He shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. "You two are still just like kids!" he remarks, his voice carrying a mixture of affection and amusement. Jimin rushes with you across the crosswalk before the crosswalk light countdown reaches 1.

“Gotta make sure my darling doesn’t get lost because she’s tiny!” Jimin and you exchange a knowing glance, the unspoken history between you evident in your eyes. It's a history filled with shared laughter, secrets, and a bond that time and circumstance have failed to break.

You and Jimin walk alongside each other, arm in arm, the night air feeling a bit lighter with each step. The camaraderie between you two is a reassuring presence, a buffer against the uncertainties of your group's dynamics.

As you approach the corner of the street leading to your house, the distant sound of raised voices begins to reach your ears. The voices are filled with emotion, carrying an unmistakable tension and turmoil.

“You're clearly not all in for me so what’s the point of all this?” one voice exclaims, a rawness in the tone that's impossible to ignore.

Jimin furrows his brow, concern etched across his face. He tightens his grip on your arm, pulling you closer as the shouting persists in the distance. You exchange a worried glance, a silent agreement passing between you both to investigate the source of the commotion. Ahead of you, Seokjin decides to take the lead, guiding you and Jimin as you round the corner of the street. What you come upon leaves you both utterly stunned. TBC ;) !! i hope you are excited, because we are finally getting into some of the juicier and angsty moments in LUL!! Please look forward to it soon! I want to upload the full chapter on Monday, but pls spam my inbox me if i forget! I'll be out of town. Ch 4 is already in the works, and will be one of the longest chapters in this fic, dealing with jimin's birthday party, yoongi going to a music conference while y/n at a halloween party. The title is called #4 - Dead Leaves/Sour Candy.

[missiletoe]

Kittyuri Matrix AU

hello! long time no fic (i got addicted to tft but i'm working on weaning myself off, yes i am 100% posting this while clocked into work, don't sweat the details)

so i tried experimenting with something different for this fic! i wanted to try Second-Person POV and this fic was EXTREMELY stream-of-consciousness. The conclusion? I am not very good at second-person and will probably not be trying that for a while (which is also why i refused to put this one up on ao3 LMAO)

but still gonna post it if you want to take a look! this was written as participation for the yuri shipping olympics round 2, prompt: consumption! the consumption doesn't actually make an appearance until the very end of the fic because it's a Matrix AU but trust the process.

Word Count: long af (3k)

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Your name is Kitty Song Covey and you live your life in a box. 

Your alarm blinks–it’s 7:52 on the dot and you’re already late for school. You hit the top with curses of all things unholy and stumble out of bed.

There’s three toothbrushes in the cupholder–Margot’s bristles shredded from the act she likes to call “brushing her teeth”, Lara Jean’s dripping water because she’s already waiting impatiently in the car, foot on the gas, and yours. You scrub at your face until the skin is rubbed raw, give your teeth a quick scrub and swish some mouthwash around before bounding down the stairs.

Dad has breakfast on the counter but you’re in too much of a hurry to bother.

“Fruit loops for the road?” he asks and because he has that corny grin on his face like he’s made a particularly bad dad pun and a baby-pink apron on, you take it. Mostly out of pity probably. Lara Jean’s honking on the horn now, which means she’s really pissed so you grab your backpack before she tears down the street, leaving you behind in a trail of exhaust. You hope to god that everything you need is packed up in there.

The car hasn’t even stopped moving by the time you jump out, still rolling to the curb. Lara Jean hollers something to you, something about safety or well wishes or probably homework knowing LJ, but you wave it away and dash inside. The clock is watching you as you race down the halls.

And… three seconds to the bell–safe. Alex winks at you as he pulls out a packet of papers and you sigh as your backpack hits the table. The day has exhausted you already and it hasn’t even begun.

Later after lunch, Professor Lee springs a pop quiz on you. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.

“Pencil?” you ask, turning to Minho when you realize you’ve forgotten yours at home. He just scoffs and rolls his eyes in response.

“Pencil?” you ask Q and he nods sympathetically, fishing through his backpack for his case. He hands you one brand new No. 2, sharpened to perfection just as Lee starts passing out the papers.

Two horrible hours later after your morale’s been crushed to a pulp and your backpack’s laden with textbooks, you clamber back into Lara Jean’s car. You hit two potholes on the way home and you wish you brought your bike helmet but there’s nothing to do besides grumble and wish horrible-but-not-too-horrible things at your sister. You hope they run out of her favorite ice cream flavor at the diner. You hope she loses one sock and exactly one in the washer.

You eat dinner, pretend to do your homework after you rip some answers off of Chegg and then Dad makes you do the dishes even though you know that it’s Lara Jean’s turn. She’s too busy frolicking around with her boyfriend to do chores, it seems.

You clamber up to bed to do it all over again.

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You don’t dream but you dream tonight. There is not much to see, the world is made of fuzzy shapes and dark blobs that form into nothingness. It’s like something… well, it’s like something out of a dream.

There’s a voice ringing through the abyss and you hear it clearly. It’s a girl’s voice–barely above a whisper.

“Follow the rabbit,” the voice says.

“What rabbit?” you try to ask but the air swallows your question whole.

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

Your name is Kitty Song Covey and you live your life in a box.

Your alarm blinks–it’s 7:52 on the dot and you’re already late for school. It’s Elton John blaring through your speakers and although you know Dad would appreciate your taste, the neighbors probably don’t want to hear it, especially not this early in the morning.

There’s three toothbrushes in the cupholder–Margot’s bristles shredded from the act she likes to call “brushing her teeth”, Lara Jean’s dripping water because she’s already waiting impatiently in the car, foot on the gas, and yours. You scrub at your face until the skin is rubbed raw, give your teeth a quick scrub and swish some mouthwash around before bounding down the stairs.

Dad has breakfast on the counter but you’re in too much of a hurry to bother.

“Trix for the road?” he asks and the rabbit on the cover stares back at you with big cartoon eyes. You grab it, if only to get it to stop looking. Lara Jean’s honking on the horn like a madman so you grab your backpack and stumble into the car, praying to god that everything you need is in there.

The car hasn’t even stopped moving by the time you jump out, still rolling to the curb. Lara Jean hollers something to you, something about safety or well wishes or probably homework knowing LJ, but you wave it away and dash inside. The clock is watching you as you race down the halls. 

Has it always been this loud? You feel each tick in time with your footsteps.

And… three seconds to the bell–safe. Alex winks at you as he pulls out a packet of papers and you sigh as your backpack hits the table. The day has exhausted you already and it hasn’t even begun.

Later after lunch, Professor Lee springs a pop quiz on you. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. It’s about parables, even though you don’t recall reading any. This quiz’s theme–the Tortoise and the Hare.

“Pencil?” you ask, turning to Minho when you realize you’ve forgotten yours at home. He just scoffs and rolls his eyes in response.

“Pencil?” you ask Q and he nods sympathetically, fishing through his backpack for his case. He hands you one brand new No. 2, sharpened to perfection just as Lee starts passing out the papers.

Two horrible hours later after your morale’s been crushed to a pulp and your backpack’s piled with textbooks, you clamber back into Lara Jean’s car. You hit two potholes on the way home and you wish you brought your bike helmet but there’s nothing to do besides grumble and wish horrible-but-not-too-horrible things at your sister. You hope she trips and falls down a rabbit hole where there’s a big air mattress at the bottom. You hope they run out of meat at her favorite restaurant.

You eat dinner, pretend to do your homework after you rip some answers off of Chegg and then Dad makes you do the dishes even though you know that it’s Lara Jean’s turn. She’s too busy taking pictures of the bunnies on your front lawn, it seems, to bother with chores.

You clamber up to bed to do it all over again.

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

You don’t dream but you dream tonight. There is not much to see, the world is made of lineless rectangles and anamorphous blobs tinged with nostalgia.

There’s a voice leaning into your ear. The ghost of a finger trails along your skin and you turn at the touch but there’s nothing except darkness to greet you there.

“Follow the rabbit,” the voice hisses.

“What rabbit?” you try to ask but the air swallows your question whole.

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

Your name is Kitty Song Covey and you live your life in a box.

Your alarm blinks–it’s 7:52 on the dot and you’re already late for school. It’s Elton John blaring through your speakers and although you know Dad would appreciate your taste, the neighbors probably don’t want to hear it, especially not this early in the morning.

There’s three toothbrushes in the cupholder–Margot’s bristles shredded from the act she likes to call “brushing her teeth”, Lara Jean’s dripping water because she’s already waiting impatiently in the car, foot on the gas, and yours, dotted with little rabbits up and down the side. 

You push your hair back with a headband that has two little white ears on top. You scrub at your face until the skin is rubbed raw, give your teeth a quick scrub and swish some mouthwash around before bounding down the stairs.

Dad has breakfast on the counter but you’re in too much of a hurry to bother.

“Trix for the road?” he asks and there are twin rabbits on the cover, frowning down at you with big buck teeth. You grab it, if only to get them to stop staring at you. Lara Jean’s honking on the horn like a madman so you grab your backpack and stumble into the car, praying to god that everything you need is in there.

The car hasn’t even stopped moving by the time you jump out, still rolling to the curb. Lara Jean hollers something to you, something about safety or you being quick like a bunny or probably homework knowing LJ, but you wave it away and dash inside. The clock is watching you as you race down the halls. 

Has it always been this loud? You feel each tick in time with your footsteps.

And… three seconds to the bell–safe. Alex winks at you as he pulls out a packet of papers and he has another corny shirt on today, this one with a cartoon rabbit saying “Everyone needs a friend who’s all ears.” You sigh as your backpack hits the table. The day has exhausted you already and it hasn’t even begun.

Later after lunch, Professor Lee springs a pop quiz on you. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. It’s about anatomy this time and from the drawing hastily scribbled on the chalkboards, you should’ve brushed up on your rabbit parts.

“Pencil?” you ask, turning to Minho when you realize you’ve forgotten yours at home. He just scoffs and rolls his eyes in response.

“Pencil?” you ask Q and he nods sympathetically, fishing through his backpack for his pencil case. There’s little brown rabbits printed all over the fabric. He hands you one brand new No. 2, sharpened to perfection just as Lee starts passing out the papers.

Two horrible hours later after your morale’s been crushed to a pulp and your backpack’s piled with textbooks, you clamber back into Lara Jean’s car. You hit two potholes on the way home and you wish you brought your bike helmet but there’s nothing to do besides grumble and wish horrible-but-not-too-horrible things at your sister. You hope she grows big buck teeth overnight that push over her lip. You hope an army of rabbits falls on her from the sky.

You eat dinner, pretend to do your homework after you rip some answers off of Chegg and then Dad makes you do the dishes even though you know that it’s Lara Jean’s turn. She’s too busy hopping around the front law, it seems, to bother with chores.

You clamber up to bed to do it all over again.

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

You don’t dream but you dream tonight. The world is shapeless, colors blending and mixing before your eyes.

There’s a voice that sounds like it’s blaring through mega-speakers. You clutch your skull in an attempt to ease the pain.

“Oh my god,” the voice sighs and you’ve never been here before and you’ve never heard them before but somehow the words are familiar. “Just follow the fucking rabbit, Kitty, or I’ll have to come there myself.”

There’s a thousand questions lodged in your throat. How do they know your name? How do they know your nickname? It’s not a well-guarded secret but it’s not exactly printed on the nameplate of your house either. Who’s speaking? Where are you? Why you?

“What rabbit?” you try to ask but the air swallows your question whole.

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

Your name is Kitty Song Covey and you live your life in a box.

Your cat wakes you up, pawing at your cheek, the fur grating against your skin. You groan and push it off without opening your eyes.

Except you don’t have a cat. You really wish you did–had a whole presentation set up for it on your tenth birthday–but your dad turned you down, claiming that there were already plenty of people in the house.

You open your eyes now and find that you’re alone in the room. Whatever woke you up is gone and all you have to show for it is a slight stinging in your cheek. But you’re awake now and your blasted alarm didn’t go off so it’s 7:52 AM and you’re almost late for school.

You brush your teeth in the mirror and wonder if your two front teeth have ever looked this big, like they’re protruding right out of your lip. You swallow your confusion and it tastes like mint.

“Carrots for the road?” Dad asks, holding out a Ziploc and there’s something off about him but it takes you a moment to place it–there’s giant white ears poking out from his head. You take the bag, if only to smother your scream. Lara Jean’s yelling at you from outside the window so you grab your backpack and stumble into the car, praying to god that everything you need is in there.

Except there is no car. Lara Jean’s sitting on a big black rabbit without so much as a saddle. (Is a saddle even the right equipment? What’s the standard for riding giant bunnies?) You take her hand because she’s starting to sound really pissed now and try to find a foothold in the fur. You close your eyes and hope you don’t fall.

You’re dreaming while awake. It’s the only explanation and it explains nothing at all.

You clamber? dismount? extract yourself from the fur and run the rest of the way when you round the corner of the street your school is on. You duck inside the building a second before the doors close. The clock is watching you as you race down the halls. 

It feels like it’s shaking the whole building with each tick, the sound reverberating in your soul.

And… three seconds to the bell–safe. Alex winks at you as he pulls out a packet of papers. He has paws for hands and he slips you one with a big, velvety pat. You sigh as your backpack hits the table. The day has exhausted you already and it hasn’t even begun.

Later after lunch–

You don’t make it past lunch. There’s a girl who pins you down in the back of the cafeteria, latches onto your arm like a claw and drags you to the bathrooms before you’ve even got a word in. You’ve never seen her before but she’s wearing the school uniform, her skirt rolled two inches higher than the standard.

The first thing that you notice is that she’s got great legs. The second is that there’s little plastic rabbits dangling from her ears.

“Come with me, Kitty,” she says and it takes you a few minutes to realize that you’ve skipped right past introductions. The encounter tastes like deja vu. There’s something you’re forgetting… something important, and it lingers on your consciousness like a reluctant guest waiting on the threshold.

She holds your hand and drags you through a never-ending hallway. You look at the window and see a skyscraper even though you’re in the middle of suburbia-nowhere and then you look out another window and see the stars above. The girl seems unfazed by the world spinning outside the glass, marching forward with a death-grip on your arm.

She takes you to a room that looks like it was ripped from the set of Bridgerton. There’s a row of velvet chairs pushed against the wall but she doesn’t take a seat in any of them so you don’t either.

“I’ve been trying to reach you,” she huffs, shoving her hair back. It’s a clear sign of frustration and you wish she’d do it again. “We’ve been trying to reach you.”

She wags her finger and you obediently scoot closer.

“This is gonna be a lot but I need you to stay with me here, Kitty,” she says, knocking your foreheads together. You feel light-headed at the contact. “You must’ve felt that something is wrong with your world.”

You do feel like your world’s been rocked, in more ways than one.

“You must’ve felt it before, you must have! The feeling that something’s not quite right, that the edges of the world are a little fuzzy, a sense of deja vu or the distinct feeling of a dream even when you’re supposed to be wide awake. You–”

“I dreamt about you, didn’t I?” you interrupt. She blinks at you owlishly before she covers her mouth up with one hand.

“That’s one way to put it, yes,” she answers which answers nothing at all.

“You told me to, ah.” The memory’s slipping from you like a scent wafting out of the room and you scramble to grab it between your hands. “To follow the rabbit.”

“That’s right,” she says, nodding. “And you did! Eventually. It must have been your instinct–some innate voice cluing you into the fact that something is wrong with this world.” 

“Sure,” you reply. “We can call it a gut feeling.”

“So I’m asking you to follow your instinct–or gut feeling–one more time,” she says, unfurling each of her fists to reveal two pills. One is red, one is blue, both of them translucent. “The blue pill will allow you to return to your life, forget we ever met. The red one will allow you to learn more about the world you think you’re living in–it’ll allow you to wake up for the first time.”

You grit your teeth and smile. You’re Kitty Song Covey and you’ve never been one to turn your nose away from adventure.

“Which one lets me see you again?” you ask and the girl shoots you a funny look, the edge of her mouth curling up into a smile.

“The red one,” she says and that’s all the confirmation you need.

You take the red pill from her hand and you swallow, the image of the girl smiling printed on the back of your eyelids.

[zoomzooomfast]

Style things in my SP AU

 so because I am normal about Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovski I have a Bunch of headcanons around them mostly in high school and older that I haven't stopped thinking about for 3 weeks 

- Stan and Kyle are Both Bisexual and there TfT and Kyle is a trans man and Stan is Non-binary and uses They/He pronouns 

-In High school Stan Played Football and Lacrosse and Kyle played basketball and Figure Skated 

-Stan had a varsity jacket he just refused to own or wear it himself but he always had his partners waring them with Kyle ending up being the permeant owner once they graduated 

-Kyle dated Wendy for a bit in high school where Stan ended up having an executional crisis where he wondered if they were gay and he dated craig for a few months and then he dated Kenny for a bit after that. Then Stan had a mental breakdown to Wendy and Wendy told him if Kyle is cool with it we can be poly

-Kyle was cool with it and the 3 of them where together till Wendy broke up with both of them because they seemed better being just the two of them. 

-All of the core 4 ended up going to Denver for collage and the 4 shared a 3 bed apartment where even though Cartman and Kenny knew Stan and Kyle were dating they both came up with stupid reasons why they shared a room

-After they graduated collage Gerald offered to get Kyle a house of which he took up fast and Then Kyle and Stan lived together there for a while

-But Stans things that made Them fun in collage became a problem and Kyle was sick of him. Kyle kicked Stan out and told him if he can get himself together then he can come back into Kyles life

-Stan left South Park after that for 6 or 7 years just living in different places around Colorado 

-Kyle during this span of time got Married to a childhood friend Rebecca who no one in his family liked she was to quite for anyone in Kyles family or life to like her. They had there Son  Ezekiel “Zeke” Rebecca hated the nickname. The marriage lasted about a year and half after Zeke was born.

-The marriage ended when Kyle came home from work one day to find a letter from Rebecca saying that she was a lesbian and has been having an affair with a woman and left him to live her best cottagecore lesbian life.

-Kyle had a full mental breakdown with him ending up resining from his job and staying home most of the day high and drunk watching a box set of red racer that Craig gave to Kyle for Zeke 

-Luck for Kyle this around the time Stan felt like he got his life together he was a little shocked when they showed up to Kyles house to see his best friend who he knew as the level headed psychologist both high and drunk in a weird way it remined Stan of there dad.

-Stan instantly developed a connection with 2 year old Zeke. And because of that Stan knew he need to help Kyle get his life together starting with getting Kyle somewhere to go so he wouldn't just drink and smoke

-From Stan just trying to keep Kyle Sober and busy by just running around Kyle learned that he was going to have a second child and that caused a less fun round of  a mental breakdown 

-Kyle ended up working as a secretary for his dad till his daughter Tabitha was born and then Kyle felt the need to get back to having real job. So Kyle applies to be the elementary schools counselor which he got

-Stan very happily took up Kyles offer of watch my kids and you can live here rent free

-Shelia comes over a lot to help Stan with cooking and to just be able to talk to her sons partner because Stan would actually speak. The first time Shelia came over she asked Stan about an engagement ring and what season him and Kyle want to get married in. Stan was there was what where just friends we haven't dated in years. Shelia had to sit down and go back over everything that Stan and Kyle have done in just the past 11-ish months. and if Stan was sure they weren't engaged or hell even married yet given that Stan is in reality just a housewife

-Stans “Proposal” as just Stan sitting in a chair in Kyles living room asking if he could be Kyles “House Husband” and giving him a ring that Shelia gave to stan saying that Kyle would like it. and He did, Kyle also played it as very chill

-After Stan Fell asleep Kyle went to the kitchen and Sobbed over the Phone to Ike

I don't have the between of them Getting married and Zeke being 12/13 years so thats all I got 

[jooniperbonsai]

Thanks For the Sub (ksj) | Chapter Two

Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 13.7k

Release date: Mon. February 5, 2024

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn (?), coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s

Summary: Now aware of Seokjin's secret, you try to take some of his...techniques into your next stream. But how well will they pay off?

Chapter Warnings: anxiety, discussion of boundaries and triggers, Seokjin explains what bdsm is supposed to mean to us watching at home, internet/cyberbullying dynamics, boss/employee power struggles, discussions of consent, peer pressure, mention of threesome, implied chubby/fat reader (it's vague enough to not adopt a specific size), mention of sex toys, swearing, sexual fantasies, m masturbation, damn Seokjin has a boner so many times in this sorry, size kink, y/n assumes Seokjin's sexuality, porn simulation games, 1 (one) reference to Vine (RIP), Dom Seokjin, kink negotiation, mention of choking and improper bdsm practices, mention of urethral sounding (but not actually happening)

a/n: Ahh hello! First of all, thank you to everyone who has read TFTS so far! It really warms my heart knowing how well received it's been, and your comments and messaged have meant so much. I really wanted to emphasize discussions of consent and boundaries in this chapter. I was struggling to write for a little bit, and then suddenly I saw this one gif of Jin on my feed and my brain jimmy neutron brain blasted my way to a 13k length chapter. Hopefully I've proofread well enough, but if you spot some serious errors please let me know. -h

On Saturday afternoon, Seokjin woke up for the first time in what felt like forever feeling rested. After checking the weather app on his phone constantly throughout the night, he received the alert that heavy snowfall was causing delays in plowing and public transit. He messaged the opening crew, encouraging them to also enjoy the lie-in and prepare for a delayed open. Instead of falling into the semi-sickening lovefest of couples peeling each other’s perilla leaves or trying to feed each other lunch, he could be spared until the evening. 

Which was good, because Seokjin was exhausted. His live last night was not planned, but after closing and apologizing to you about his gross mismanagement of power, he needed to get out the pent-up frustration that crumbled the bones in his body from pressure. 

Sure, it was the right thing to do to apologize, even though he knew he would never be able to look at that prep counter, your wide, glassy eyes, and swollen lips the same way again. But it was important to him. He could never become the kind of man he watched his boss be to him or his wife, forcing his way past someone’s boundaries to get what they wanted. 

Even years later, Seokjin was convinced that had he not shared information about Soon Yi that intrigued his boss, if he’d maybe kept his personal and professional lives separate, things maybe would have been different. And now that he was in the position of power where he was someone else’s boss, wasn’t it his duty to make sure that didn’t happen to you too?

Seokjin almost lost all his control with you yesterday. From the moment you came in with a tired, croaky voice that greeted him “hi” before the sun had even come up, he knew he would be struggling for the rest of the day. 

During multiple points of your training, he had the urge to touch you, which was nearly impossible not to do, since so much of the guidance you needed came from hand-over-hand instruction as he showed you the fluid motions of safe chopping. When his large hands covered yours, Seokjin became aware of how tiny you were to him. Maybe not in all the places, but your height, your smaller hands, they showed him how easily and perfectly you slotted into his body, like a puzzle piece he didn’t know he could ever feel matched to. 

Maybe Seokjin executed this desire to touch you a little too dramatically. When he saw your misplaced cutting knife, he let that excuse lead him head-first into white hot desire, scolding you, watching you squirm a little as you felt embarrassed for losing focus. And that seemed to unlock some feral need in him, to get you to squirm a little more, to touch you and feel the velveteen softness of your forearms as he pinned you against the prep table. 

The little gasp you’d let out sent the blood straight to his cock, and to avoid you seeing how easy and embarrassingly you could undo him–how quickly one singular sound from you would make Seokjin rock hard and panting and under your complete power–he reacted, clasped your wrists, used some set of excuses to get closer, let his arm skim across your cheek to grab a packet of whatever the hell was above you. And the way you didn’t resist, didn’t pull away from his grasp showed him how good you could be, how obedient you were as you turned around when told. 

He should’ve stopped there, but you were standing in front of him, smelling a little bit like coffee and a fruity shampoo you used, your bodies only mere inches from full on contact. And Seokjin wanted more of a reason to hold onto you, to see what ways he could rile you up, whether you were cognizant or not of how, well, submissive you were to him. 

Most of his income from streams came from scenarios where Seokjin played into a softer role, which translated into the role of a submissive pretty boy, and usually a bottom. But for the first time in years, a rich, satisfying wave of dominance rolled back into his body and he welcomed it.

Seokjin knew better, but he couldn’t help himself. The one bit of control he maintained was in his refusal to let go of your hands, even after you had mastered the motions of your knife, possibly even better than Seokjin himself could chop. Because if Seokjin declawed himself from you, his hands would absolutely wander. Up the sleeve of your exposed forearms and down the swell of your breasts and full hips. 

His cock ached thinking about how plush and soft your body would be under his hands, how he wouldn’t have to worry about breaking you. He could safely grope your sides and not feel like he would pinch your bones together, and that was important, because Seokjin liked to be rough.

When that carrot fell, you couldn’t shake Seokjin’s desperate hands off yours and you carried him with you as you curved your body toward the floor to pick up your mess. Seokjin was blessed and cursed with the brief moment he got to touch more of you than he ever had as your ass rocked back and ground gently into him. 

He’d moaned, though he tried to disguise it as a grunt or scoff, but the way your delicious ass attracted him right in between the line of your cheeks practically begged him to rut against you. 

Your reaction of shock, though, halted him as he remembered you two were in the kitchen of his family’s restaurant. He scrambled to cover his dick before it became even more obvious and humiliating. 

And then you fell, because Seokjin was an idiot and forgot he had been holding onto you. 

The sound of your head crashing into the metal ricocheted through his ears, and your pained moan sent him spiraling in panic. He didn’t think. Seokjin wasn’t the best at remaining calm during potential medical emergencies, instead of electing to assess your wellbeing and check-in with you, he just reacted, plucking you off the floor and onto the counter.

You can’t manage a restaurant without carrying heavy sacks of rice or flour, cartons of vegetables or gallons of oils and liquids into the space. That, plus the fact that Seokjin did go to the gym to keep his figure, ensured that when he had to pull you up from the floor, he could do so with ease. Which thanks to his awful, overly enthusiastic libido, was really locking in some potential size kink. If Seokjin could hoist you onto the cold prep counter without breaking a sweat, it meant he could also hoist you onto other things, like his cock. Could bounce you up and down and see how those delicious, large tits would follow his pace.

Fuck. 

This was when Seokjin realized even though he was deeply, deeply interested in these fantasies, his reality was different. Because too easily he had dipped into some innate submissive part of you and decided to play with it and tease you for it. Too easily, he has erased any boundary between professional and personal, and now you are walking around with a giant bruise on your forehead. He used his power to manipulate you, didn’t he? While the tiniest part of him argued back, suggesting it was purely mutual attraction and biology, that he shouldn’t apologize because he swore he saw something in your eyes that almost guaranteed you wanted him too, this is why Seokjin had to apologize. The “almost” of it all. He wasn’t sure, which meant the uncertainty was a risk and just because he wanted something to be true didn’t mean it was. 

By the end of the day, the intense proximity to you and the memory of your lips parting to suck his tongue into your mouth had become too much. Seokjin turned on an impromptu stream to wallow in his self pity and direct that dominant energy into something that was far less harmful and at least lucrative. 

Now, as the winter’s dull afternoon light glowed through the city, Seokjin checked his phone, seeing that the evening crew leader had arrived and informed him that everything was covered and they wouldn’t need the extra help. 

With that update, Seokjin’s entire evening just became available, which was a rare thing for him since he moved up in his job role. But because of this, he was unsure what to do to pass the time. He cooked himself dinner, cleaned, and organized the jars in his refrigerator, needing to keep his hands busy to distract himself from thinking about you. 

His apartment looking immaculate and there no longer being anything else to clean, he finally fired up his computer to play games. Maybe this would serve as a proper distraction. His new PC was set to come early next week after being delayed by the snow. Despite Seokjin’s financial success since his start as a streamer, money to him was still something he wasn’t sure what to do with. 

After Worldwide Handsome took their cut from last night’s fifteen grand in earnings, he would be walking away with about ten thousand dollars. He would, albeit quietly, pour around seven thousand of those dollars into the restaurant, where the mom-and-pop feel of the small shop was starting to show its age.

Last week, he’d called a repairman to give him a quote about fixing a broken coil on one of the griddles. After a quick inspection, he was informed most of the unit was corroding, and it was time to seriously consider a replacement. Between that, the new register he ordered, and the walk-in freezer that was coughing its last breath, probably as we speak, Seokjin spent nearly forty grand in the last month with repairs and replacements to keep the shop running another day. 

His parents had insisted they’d pay for the expenses, but after the first few discoveries he’d made of the DIY wiring his father had tried in earnest to configure, Seokjin stopped alerting them to the updates he was making, hoping that distance, age, and some fairly similar looking appliances would allow for these changes to go undetected when they returned. He had seen what this place made. He’d seen his paycheck. There was no way in hell his father could afford an $18 to 25,000 walk-in freezer on their operating budget. 

Overall, Seokjin made plenty of money with streaming, but beyond some investments and his nice apartment, as well as a savings account to ensure he wasn’t completely destitute, he lived much below his means. When he hit goals during his streaming, it did really feel like he was winning big. To buy himself a new PC was something he knew he worked for.  

Just as he was browsing the new skins in the game store, he heard the familiar chime and his heartrate picked up. 

You were live. 

He hesitated. “No,” he said out loud to himself, his voice croaking after hours of not speaking. “Don’t even think about it.” 

He knew if he looked at you right now, all the distractions, the cleaning, the dedication to keeping himself busy, would be for nothing. It would be painful to look at you–probably all cozy with your hair pulled messily away from your face, your glasses hanging off your nose instead of your usual contacts–and not think about how merely hours ago he had your heat rubbed up against him. 

If he really wanted to torture himself, he would also think about how the casual, disheveled look you sported could have been something he woke up to this morning if he’d tried a little harder, the loose t-shirt you probably wore rising up while you slept next to him, exposing the soft tummy he knew hid under it. Maybe even one of your nipples would slip out, hard from the chill of the cold winter air bleeding into his apartment. 

But Seokjin wouldn’t torture himself. He knew better. When he exited his game, he definitely didn’t launch his web browser and go to your channel that was on his Favorites tab. And he definitely didn’t cup himself through his sweats as he watched you appear before him. 

If the idea of you in casual wear could make him this hard, the view of you now, as you sat on stream with a tight, low-cut top that showed the curve of your breasts and their delicious, lickable valley between them, could easily turn every part of him into stone. You did your makeup today. Let your hair delicately frame your face. You looked like you were logging on to lure your viewers to come to you like a siren. Seokjin wanted you to devour him. 

His cock twitched and he groaned. He was such a pervert. But whoever this Y/N was, she looked like she was ready to play some games, and not the kind that Seokjin was used to seeing on stream. 

“Well, hello,” you purred. Was this really happening? Who the fuck had possessed the wide-eyed, awkward gamer he was used to watching?

“I thought, given that it’s so close to Valentine's Day, and because I missed the stream last night, I would make it up to you.” 

Seokjin froze. How had he not known you were supposed to stream yesterday? He would’ve never let you stay so late. He shot you an apologetic text,and when he looked up from his phone, he saw some of the comments flooding into your feed:

Mingisaysrelax: Um…am I on the right website? 😏💦

MountainSan88:😳 

PizzaBoy97: You look really pretty 😍

MizzVyne: Is this allowed? IS THIS ALLOWED?

Seokjin watched as your chat exploded in response to your new look, clips being taken by the hundreds when you leaned down to adjust your seat and the tops of your breasts jiggled. Your mods seemed to be on top of things though, because as soon as he saw raunchy or hateful comments, they were swiftly being taken down. 

“I’m not going to read my comment section right now, but I assume you’re all a little shocked by my appearance. I don’t know, I was feeling a bit inspired by another streamer I watched last night when I got home from work. He had some really good ideas on um…stuff, and no I’m not going to share who he is because some of you will absolutely cyber bully him for being associated with me and he deserves better than that.” 

He. A pang of bitterness surged through Seokjin. It was laughable, really, how he was jealous because you were watching other male streamers when you got home from work, completely oblivious to how on another site he was jerking his aching cock to his viewers thanks to how worked up you made him. 

“But yeah, I’m going to switch up the stream in the second half, if you want to stick around and see.”

This really piqued his interest, pressing his palm down onto his erection to try and relieve some of the pressure. 

You frowned at your screen as you launched your game, some first person shooter that would hold your attention so you wouldn’t have to talk.

You opened your mouth to add something, but you were immediately dropped into your game, setting your jaw as you focused on the controls in front of you, occasionally panicking, key smashing so loud that it drowned out your squeals when you were knocked over and over again and needed a revive. 

Seokjin assumed whatever teammate who kept reviving you must’ve been a subscriber who was stream sniping…or reverse stream sniping? Stream assisting and reviving as you struggled your way through the game. 

Something really stuck with him as you played. Whoever this “mentor” was must have been well versed in the knowledge that on any streaming platform, sex sells, especially for women. Your new look was drawing in quite the crowd. He wasn’t sure he’d seen you have this many subs, points, or viewers while streaming before. It was like a switch flipped. 

He felt a tiny flutter of something like pride swell into his chest. You were becoming more confident every day he knew you, from your knife skills to school teaching to now streaming. 

“Oh shittttttt,” you groaned into your mic, ripping Seokjin away from his soft reverie and back into full on, desperate wanting. Maybe you were toeing the community guidelines with this stream, but that groan sounded almost pornographic coming out of your mouth, and any chance Seokjin had at trying to be respectful was long gone. 

He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh you’re being a bad girl tonight I see,” he chuckled to himself.

Almost as if you heard him, you giggled back, biting your lip playfully. Fuck, what were you doing to him? Your chat seemed to be in a similar standing. 

As a result, One of the mods pinned an announcement to the top:

W0nW00: To maintain community guidelines and compliance, we are labeling this channel as 18+. We ask that you be respectful to Y/N and her moderators as we continue with this stream. If your account is set to under 18, you will be redirected in 2 minutes. 

Shit, all for a simple moan? 

You paused the game. “I’m going to go for a bio break. Be right back.” You set your break screen, and instead of the usual, cutesy graphic of a cherry blossom tree blowing in the wind that said “Spring Day Streams”, it was now a neon, vaporwave cityscape and said “Join Us For Spring Night Streams, An After Dark Experience”. 

Seokjin’s eyes wide, he finally released his cock from his sweats, and took himself in his hand. Oh, this was going to be good. 

Seokjin is a camboy.

That’s the only thought splitting through the headache you’ve had all morning. Is there such a thing as an orgasm hangover? Because if so, you’ve got one. If not, maybe you were concussed in the kitchen yesterday.

You’ve spent most of the day trying to clean up the mess of your apartment and frankly, your mental state. Seokjin spends his Friday nights Daddy domming his humble pool of viewers and making thousands of dollars doing so. To even think that sentence feels insane. 

And humiliating. Because attached to that sentence is the realization that Seokjin’s major success as a gay camboy means that he is absolutely not thinking about you the way you are of him, and the kiss you imposed on him at work was definitely not consensual after all, which when you think about it, is obvious based on how frantically he apologized and assigned himself at fault for what happened. He was trying in the most polite way to reject you. 

You’re an idiot. And despite all of it, the shame of your action isn’t what’s delivering the heavy punch; it’s the fact that your crush didn’t die the second you found out last night. If anything, you’ve been silently wallowing in your sadness since you woke up, your stupid heart not processing that there’s one significant reason for why you can’t have him. 

You try to trudge through the fog of it all, placing your newly cleaned toys back into their proper dust cases and compartments before returning them to the drawer next to your side table. You switch loads of laundry and drop the warm pile on your bed, grimacing at the idea of having to fold it all. 

You shouldn’t be disappointed. This is a stupid crush that was never meant to go this far. Not to this place where you aren’t just humiliated, but the loneliness that you often avoid feeling has been spilling through the cracks of your life all day. 

The laundry is the only thing that occupies one side of your bed. Never another body, his warmth, his weight existing as another living thing keeping your living thing company as you fold laundry or wash dishes. 

No, you shouldn’t have projected this crush or obsession or whatever you want to call it onto Seokjin, but in these months of conversation and blooming friendship, you’ve found your mind beginning to wander into the fantasy of not just sex, but safety and connection. He’s a man who has always treated you with the utmost respect, even now in how he has maintained a boundary that gently rejects you, even if it’s confusing. 

Before his promotion at the restaurant, there was collaboration that fostered your trust in him; your bodies started working around each other like dancers, fusing your movements with a natural flow. You’d seen some of that pop up throughout the day yesterday, which you couldn’t help but feel like delivered a bit of hope in your stomach. 

You know it’s useless to continue hoping that something will change. Maybe he’s bi, you’ve thought a few times since you went to bed. He did call everyone a good girl. But, don’t some guys call each other girls as some kind of kink? But even hoping for that still feels wrong in your gut. Instead of wishing he just so happens to like pussy, you should be redirecting yourself from the fact that it doesn’t even matter. He said so himself, he’s your boss. 

“Ugh,” you groan into your unfolded laundry. Why can’t anything ever be easy? 

You shove the clothing pile to one side of your bed as you lie down, staring up at the ceiling, your eyes following the soft pattern of cracks that have begun to appear through the paint. You already know that going back to work on Monday will be awful, not just because this crush won’t crush itself, but because you clearly now know more about Seokjin than he perhaps ever wanted you to know. Won’t it be awkward trying to talk to him? And if he asks why you’re being so weird, what will you even say?

Sorry Seokjin, I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore because I spent Friday cumming while watching you on your gay cam show as you stroked your huge dick and admittedly once I saw your face connected to your dick I had the best orgasm of my life that rendered me useless the next day.

Perfect. This won’t be absolute hell at all. 

Your stream alarm rings on your phone. You sigh. That’s right. You promised a makeup stream to your followers. 

How did Seokjin stream so confidently? Last night, the way he just exuded dominance and control, how he managed to get so much money from sitting there and making his chat do the work? It’s not only impressive but also inspiring. If you were able to have that distance from your chat, maybe things would be a bit easier, and the questions that were so personal and directed would fade into the background while ones of adoration and impersonal fantasies could take their place. 

And the money, god. If you had money like that, you wouldn’t have a stack of financial aid forms sitting on your dresser right now waiting for you to basically jump through hoops to ask nicely for a loan. 

The way he was able to be so different and make money off of it? That feels promising to you too. Because whoever Daddy Dom Seokjin is, he isn’t just walking around in the world being “on” all the time. You know him as someone whose ears flush with embarrassment the second one of the delivery guys tells him he made an error with the order and tries to diffuse the tension with some free snacks; who often hums game scores and whose laugh sounds like a squeaky windshield wiper swiping across dried glass. 

What if you could be more like that? 

Not Daddy Dom or Mommy Y/N, but more casual and detached? You could stop reading your chat and answering questions. Or if you did want to play into some of Seokjin’s sex appeal, you could dress slightly more suggestively or do your hair and makeup to exploit the male gaze’s money a bit, just like how Seokjin did. 

In this world of streaming, where everything feels like fractured versions of reality, parts of you being split among the pixels and delivered and digested into someone else’s home for their entertainment and pleasure, it’s hard for you to ever feel like you can have some close community with your followers. Not like Wonwoo does with his. Because of your start and how people perceive you now, there just doesn’t seem to be a way for you to have intimacy. Even if you tried, your chat flies by so quickly now that unless it’s a notification from a mod, any usernames and personal anecdotes are lost before you can even know who’s who. 

You think about it for a bit. It can’t hurt to try, right? It’s not like you being a little less reserved would automatically launch you into a career in porn. And if it will help bring a little more income in, lessen the blow a tiny bit, you can’t really see why it would make sense to keep doing things this way when you are this miserable by the idea of it. 

Spring Day Streams holds a standard image that is pink and soft, and you know some people love watching you because you’re hitting some fantasy they have. The woman who looks like an angel but swears like a sailor and as stereotypes often assume, fucks like a demon. 

What could “fuck like a demon” look like on an often all ages game streaming platform, though? Well, not all ages. Some streams are only accessible to registered users over the age of 18. Usually the age filter is there because the game is super graphic, or the streamer is a sex educator or swears so much the algorithm has started penalizing them. A few times though, you’ve seen some streamers playing games that are so raunchy they’re basically porn. And porn versions of those games exist, but to keep some of them streamer-friendly, they also sell versions that don’t have uncensored anime girls receiving creampies. That would definitely maintain the brand without going too far, right? 

You open your phone, typing in some of the titles of games, mostly dating simulators you’ve seen other streamers play before, and then you stumble across one called MiCamStudio, a puzzle game with the plot where you’re the manager of a camgirl enterprise and your goal is to become the most successful, richest entrepreneur while keeping your girls happy. 

You laugh. It feels a bit on the nose, but a fun way to shake things up in an after-dark concept. And it’s not too expensive, which means if this entire plan bombs, you won’t have invested much into it. Fine, you’ll do it. 

Wonwoo responds right away after you shoot a quick message with your idea to your mods on discord to help them prepare. 

On it. 

With a deep breath, you start to get ready. 

As you brace yourself to come back from your short bio break and announcement, your heart is hammering in your ears. What if everyone left? What if things get weird or gross or you think you’re being kind of sexy and cute but are really just being an idiot? 

Suddenly, this entire idea seems so stupid. What if your mom decides this is finally the time she wants to watch you stream? She hasn’t ever had the interest to, but what if she finally thinks to herself on a random Saturday night in February, “Wow, I sure do crave watching some video game streams! Say, I know my daughter Y/N streams. I should check it out!” or worse, what if someone she knows sends one of the clips or a screenshot of you with your tits practically out? 

Your anxiety is starting to win in this battle, and as you pace back and forth in front of your computer, shaking your clammy hands and trying to remember how to breathe, you see the number of viewers has dropped since the stream moved from all ages to 18+. Which means that you can now read your chat again. 

The comments are actually really supportive. Among them are some of your mods cheering you on, but one username anchors you back into your chair as you watch the notification dance across the screen. 

JokeJinSeokjin has subscribed for 3x months!

Seokjin. Seokjin is live and watching you. Which you expect to be the thing that will throw you over the edge. Seokjin, your boss. Your kind of friend. Your crush. The man who you are trying to emulate in this attempt to be sexy and earn more money and confidence. 

Surprisingly, a warm glow of comfort settles in you stomach instead. Because while maybe in all of this mess there’s plenty to be anxious about, you feel a part of you that’s determined to make him proud, to show him in this rejection what he’s missing out on. You take a deep breath to steady yourself as you hit the button to come back. 

“Ah, hello! I mean-um, hello,” you catch the nervousness pouring out of your shaky voice and clear your throat, trying to sound more composed. 

“I wanted to try something new today. Well, tonight. Welcome to Spring Night Streams, where I’ll be playing some not safe for work in more of a raunchy way type of games. Because as we know if there’s blood and guts and horror, it’s all ages! But boobs, those are a no no!”

You shakily laugh and suck your lip into your teeth. The taste of your lipstick laths over your tongue and you try not to think about how messy you just made it look. Or how you might now have lipstick on your teeth to really add an effect of clownery to your poor jokes. 

“I’m going to play this game? It came out a few years ago, but it’s a puzzle game called MiCamStudio. Maybe some of you have played it. But uh, yeah if you don’t like things like that I can always um…well I’ll just try it and see…” you trail off and nervously fidget with your controls as you open the game. 

Whatever you were expecting out of a dating simulator type game where you were in charge of cam girls, it wasn’t this. When you open the menu to start a new game, the animation that loads after you click “Start Streaming” is dozens of bra-clad boobs bouncing across the screen as it transitions you to the story line menu. 

Jesus Christ. Heat floods your cheeks. This somehow feels worse than the time your earbuds died and you didn’t notice that the audiobook of a very spicy holiday romance you were listening to wasn’t coming through them, but your phone. On the bus. And to make matters worse, you were at a part where the narrator was very generously providing sound effects and moans for the main character as she participated in an orgy with triple penetration. Yikes. 

You begin the walk-through of the storyline, greeted by Candy, a pink haired, busty camgirl who is looking to expand her horizons in the business. As you tap through the prompts, Candy starts to become less dressed, abandoning her already tiny skirt and crop top combo for a barely-there set of lingerie that covers just her nipples and vagina. 

“I need your help!” Candy pouts, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I need 400 new fans for my business or else I’ll be out of work! Quick, use this magic wand as you solve puzzles to help me get closer to my goal!” 

The wand is, of course, a vibrator. When you play through the first level tutorial and are prompted to use the wand, it vibrates the blocks, shifting them into new positions on the screen to match colors together. If you get enough combos, she has a giant orgasm, which increases her fans so you can pass to the next level. 

As you work through some of the first few levels, you notice that your view count has recovered somewhat from earlier, though the comments are kind of off-putting. Not because people are being sexually inappropriate, but because they’re mad you’re not interacting with them. 

NGL I thought this was going to be more fun and naughty. 

Yeah now she’s not even talking to us at all. 

I miss when she was bad at games and it was at least interesting. 

Someone come get me if she starts moaning again like she did earlier. 

Fuck. You are fucking this up. And your viewers are right, you haven’t been talking to them. Or really doing anything but playing the game and trying not to wince from embarrassment every time Candy moans as you make her a star. 

There’s got to be something you can do. You think about Seokjin again, who you’re not sure is still watching, but you hope some of that confident edge he had last night starts to come over you, too. What was it that he did to keep everyone engaged? 

He gave them incentive. A goal. He didn’t have to say much to them but tell them what to do and they happily did it. And that also took the pressure off of him to keep talking. 

With a deep breath, you test the waters. “Oh, you wanted more fun and naughty? Well, you didn’t really work for it did you?” 

You hate the words as they come from your mouth, but they have an immediate result. 

Loyal2You tipped 1600 points. What do you need us to do to earn it?

Your face burns hot, and you sip some water to try and cool yourself, playing it off as nonchalance rather than anxiety. You feel your stomach threatening to lurch into your throat as you force out the next sentence.  

“Mmm, I don’t know. Maybe you need to show me what I need,” you smirk. You really don’t know. Money? Subs? People not questioning you? This to be over?

LongJohn69 gifted 10 subs. Maybe this will help? 😉

“Well, it’s a start. Thanks for the sub,” you giggle, forcing yourself to relax into your chair. 

“Hmm, what can I give you all as a reward? I feel like I could really use some cute new clothes that I can wear for you next stream if you help me?” 

Your voice is softened and the pitch is a bit higher. Maybe Candy’s baby voice is having an impact on you from the game, because your normal, even paced tone is taking a turn. Is this the persona you’ve been trying to find? 

But you need this money. School, your future. You can’t just keep living the way you have been. 

7DaysAWeek tipped 10,000 points. Please, say “thank you 7 days” in that adorable whiny voice, baby. I’ll double tip if you do.

You freeze. 20,000 points is $200. All for you to say something so simple and stupid? 

God, but it doesn’t feel right to do it. You could ignore it, you think. And walk away with $100 before your commission rate is taken out. Which will end up being nothing, you realize.

“Oh, hmm.” You pause and then just do it. “Okay. Thank you 7 Days for the points. I really appreciate it.” You drum up the dramatics, eliciting some horrible, embarrassing baby voice that makes your vowels stringy and weak. 

Yuck. More requests pour in, people eager to get you to recite some innocent seeming phrases that you know are fodder for their spank bank. 

You see a tiny notification flash in the bottom right corner: a private message from Wonwoo. 

Y/N, you could get into deep shit if you aren’t careful. This could potentially violate your terms of service. 

You frown at the message but nod to let him know you read it. 

“Okay, well, I think it’s time we get back to the game!” You awkwardly divert your attention back to the screen, letting Candy’s moans fill the silence as you ignore the new requests and subs for the rest of your stream, too humiliated to think about what they could be saying.

After you end your stream, you feel the damn of tears that was welling your eyes for the last half hour spill. 

What a fucking disaster. What started as a hopeful night turned out to be one of your most streamed yet somehow also least successful broadcasts. The rush of viewers at the start provided you with a great boost, but after you didn’t engage again with the requests, your views, subs, and points plummeted, leaving you with a very slim payout for the day. This wouldn’t be much of anything for your bills once commission is taken. 

You don’t know how people do this. You feel like absolutely dog shit, and you even wrapped early, pretending that you were sick. But maybe you also aren’t really pretending, your stomach feels knotted and sour. 

Something about that felt wrong, but you don’t really understand why. It’s not like you’re prudish or fear sex. On any given day those kinds of requests stack up by the hundreds. But maybe it’s because tonight you finally peeled back the dismissive layer and let them in that has you feeling vulnerable and honestly, a little dirty. 

You wipe some stray tears from your eyes, stretching across the desk to grab your phone and pull it off of do not disturb mode. You see a few texts from Seokjin that he sent while you were streaming. 

Seokjin (8:17PM): Hey! I didn’t know you were supposed to stream yesterday. I would have let you leave early if I’d known.😞

Seokjin (9:15PM): Hey, are you okay? You look really uncomfortable. I know you’re playing and won’t see this until after you’re done but I wanted to check. 

Seokjin (9:47PM): Y/N, please don’t feed into these requests if it’s not what you want. 

Seokjin (10:02PM): Call me. The second you get this. Urgent.

You read the last text, which was sent twenty minutes ago. Shit, did something happen to the restaurant? 

“Y/N,” Seokjin says after one ring, his voice strained. 

“Um, hi Seokjin. I’m just calling you back because you said it’s urgent! Is everything okay with the restaurant? Did the snow knock power out or something? If you need me to come in tomorrow too I can help with stuff.”

“What?” Seokjin pauses for a second, his exasperation now turned to confusion. “No, Y/N. Everything with the restaurant is fine.”

“Oh. Then why did you call?” you ask. 

“Well, if you saw all my texts then you know I was watching your stream. And I just wanted to check and make sure you’re okay after that? Near the end you looked pretty upset.”

The warmth in your stomach you felt when you first heard his voice is gone, replaced by a sharp, gritty unease.

“Oh. Um, yeah I’m…fine,” but the tightness in your throat betrays you and a tiny sob escapes as the tears begin falling again. 

Seokjin doesn’t say anything as you sniffle into your phone, scrubbing the dribble away from your nose and cheeks with your sleeve. 

“Hey,” he says as your cries become softer. “Do you want to get out of the house for a bit?”

“It’s kind of late, isn’t it,” you say weakly. 

“That’s not what I asked. Do you want to get out of the house for a bit?” He repeats. 

Do you? Part of you is exhausted, tempted to just go right to bed. But you know if you lie down right now in the rest of that unfolded pile of laundry you might never emerge. 

“Ok,” you whisper into the receiver. 

“I’ll come get you,” Seokjin says. “Dress warm. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

When you were little, your parents took you on a road trip to get away from the city. You sat in the backseat, kicking your father’s chair grumpily on the first day, tired from waking up early and having to be stuffed into the car with the mountain of snacks, toys, clothes, and camping gear you had shoved in beside you. Your father was patient for the first hour of your kicks, but before long the steady thump thump thump on his lower back was becoming a strong annoyance as he navigated further away from home. 

“Y/N,” your father had sharply warned once he’d had enough. “Keep it up, and I’ll take your feet off and put them into my pockets.” 

While in retrospect the threat is silly and impossible, at the time, your five-year-old self was struck with horror as you imagined him sawing your feet off like the patients who were out in the snow for too long in that medical TV show you saw at your grandparents’ house once.

You’d tucked your feet underneath you until you were at a rest stop, where picnic tables and a small garden scape awaited you, filled with native wildflowers and lazy, fat bees that hovered from flower to flower. 

Your mother smoothed your hair with her hand, guiding you through the garden as your father bought your lunches from inside the building. 

“He didn’t mean it,” she’d said softly, feathering the tips of your hair across your cheek. Goosebumps prickled along your arms and you shivered, even though the sun was heavy and hot on top of you that day. “No one will take your feet from you.” 

You’d hugged her tightly then, still unsure as to why someone would try to take your feet from you. Your tapping in the car was mostly to keep you from feeling like you were going to be sick, but back then you didn’t really have the words to express yourself. 

When your father returned, he wordlessly placed your meal in front of you, including a large, fudgy cookie for dessert. Your father had always been proud, and even then when he didn’t apologize to you and promise he wouldn’t saw off your feet, being given a dessert was as good as any apology. 

He smiled when you licked the smudged chocolate off your fingers, eventually tutting impatiently so your mother would take you to the bathroom to wash up. Afterwards, you found him looking at a map on the building’s outside wall, with a bright cherry red You Are Here sticker signifying where in this confusing picture you were supposed to be. 

“There’s an observation point a few stops away from here. It’s supposed to be a really nice view over a valley. Y/N, do you want to be our navigator for those and help me decide when we should stop to look?” 

Laced in there was his apology. An opportunity at redemption, connection. You’d nodded instantly and scrambled back into the car, no longer upset about having to share your space in the backseat with all the cargo, ready to take on your role as your father’s co-pilot. 

You visited every observation point along that freeway that trip, all the way from the rest stop to the campground in some rural village. Some of the spots were lackluster, now overgrown and showing a view of a wall of trees and bushes and not some regal cavern or farmland below. But there were also the ones that, had you never insisted on visiting, you would have never seen half as much of the flora and fauna you’d expected to see on your camping trip. And it was the one major trip your family had ever had that made you all feel like a collective unit, ready to fight against the forces of grumpiness or foot-sawers together.

From that point on, whenever you saw the sign marker, you couldn’t help but feel a smile bloom on your face, which is why at this moment you are sitting next to Seokjin in his car, bundled up and stupidly beaming at him as he mirrors a happy but confused smirk back at you.

When he’d picked you up, Seokjin didn’t say much, just started driving north, through your neighborhood and into the rolling hills outside of the city. While this morning’s snow still clings to the trees and rooftops of some hillside buildings, surprisingly, the plows have done a good job of ensuring the road is safe and salted. You can feel the tense knots in your shoulders starting to lessen a little just from the feeling of being somewhere else for a while.

As you weave up the mountain side, toward the observation point, you gasp. 

“What?” he asks. “What’s wrong?’ His eyes bulge from his head. 

“It’s just that, I love observation points,” you say sheepishly, not sure if you should divulge your entire story. 

Seokjin nods, thoughtful. “I like to come up here sometimes when I’ve had a really bad day. Just need to clear my head. Seemed like you needed to do that too.” The car curves along the bend, some of the wind fluttering clods of snow from the trees and onto the road. 

“Yeah, I do…” You trail off, letting him take you higher into the mountain before pulling into the observation point. This one has some small cafés and despite the late hour and snowfall, there are still quite a few cars parked in the lot, some sets of families and couples strolling around with warm drinks and peering out onto the twinkling, snow-covered city below. 

“How’s your head,” he asks gently, and it takes you a minute to remember what he’s referring to. You touch the make-up covered bruise and shrug.

 “Eh, it’s not so bad.” Truly, as the day wears on, you are feeling a bit tender, but the swelling has gone down, and your worry has gone with it. 

Seokjin opens your door for you, ever the gentleman, and you try to fight off the harsh tug in your chest that likens this behavior to a date. 

The two of you head over toward one of the lookout points, leaning against the rail posts. You take in the rolling hills below, how soft and plush the city looks now, almost like it could never be a place where you feel sadness or loneliness. You sigh. 

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Seokjin begins gently, “but I was wondering what happened during your stream tonight.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you assure him. 

Maybe this conversation would feel more uncomfortable if you didn’t already feel so awful. You are just trying to feel a little bit better about this whole ordeal. Trying to find in you some nugget of comfort to ensure a more stable future. And hell, Seokjin had made it seem so easy. But now, you are humiliated. You aren’t sure how you are going to go live again and go back to how things were before when the internet is probably making a giant laughing stock of you, or fetishizing you. You’re not sure which one is worse. 

“So, I know when we used to be, um, friends, I had mentioned to you that streaming is something I fell into. And as you also know from working with me, I don’t have the best social skills. Or I can, maybe, I don’t know. Anyway, I haven’t been liking it that much, really. Mostly because people in the chat always ask really personal questions about me and it feels weird. Like they’re real people but they can’t be real, to me. Does that make sense?”

He nods once, urging you to continue. 

“Right, so, in all of this, I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it more fun for me. And last night I saw you-YouTuber. I saw this YouTube streamer and on his stream he just seemed so cool, and smart. And he was able to both stay engaged without telling everyone everything and had distance. But he also was kind of domin-strong, he was just really good at telling people to meet goals and incentives. And it worked, they did it. I thought, maybe this could help me be better at this so I don’t hate it so much. I could make some persona, do something different that helps me better enjoy it or make more money. I don’t know. It seems stupid now when I think about it.”

“It’s not stupid, Y/N,” Seokjin says, turning to you. Your eyes flit to his face. His nose is pinkish from the cold, and his broad shoulders are tightly bound up to his ears to avoid the chill from spreading. 

“Of course you should like streaming, but if you don’t, if this isn’t the formula that works for you, then maybe you should try something different to help you.”

“How do you do it?” you ask, realizing too late what you are saying. 

Seokjin freezes. “Do what?”

“Um, how do you maintain confidence all the time? Like at work and stuff.”

Seokjin scoffs. “I don’t. You know that. Weren’t you just with me last week when I was bowing and spluttering like an idiot to Mrs. Yoon because that one repair man backed his car over her potted azalea? I was anything but confident then.” 

You fight a soft smile. Seokjin had been trying to scoop the twiggy, out of season bush into a bucket to salvage it before offering to replace it. Mrs. Yoon however, was having none of it, chirping on about how that plant had been germinated from her ancestors’ hillside home generations ago, and despite her choosing to carelessly plop it into a busy alleyway, she was sure there was no replacement that could soothe her aching heart. Seokjin handed her a wad of cash, and a gift certificate to the restaurant in an act of good faith. That seemed to shut her up. 

“You know what I mean,” you nudge. “You have an ability to talk to people though. Even Mrs. Yoon can’t say no to your mother’s bossam recipe when you charm her like that.” 

“First of all, no one can say no to my mother’s bossam recipe, regardless if I’m there to grovel or not. Secondly, you’re charming too, Y/N.”

You chortle at this. You? Charming? “Ha, I wish. But really, Seokjin. Half of that stream was an awkward setup and I thought I was going to puke. And not because of how I was dressed or anything like that. It’s so weird. I don’t really care about if people make comments like that about me because they’re impersonal. But knowing that I am sitting there, and everyone has some expectation of how I’m going to perform for them, it makes me feel awful.” 

“Tell me about it,” you hear him mutter, but he then recovers. “It sounds like that crossed one of your boundaries, then. Just because some explicit stuff doesn’t bother you, doesn’t mean that nothing ever will. And it doesn’t have to make sense. You can not care if strangers are talking about you sexually but care if you’re engaging with them and using sexual innuendos to do so.” 

Part of you is tempted to engage with the comment, to press him to explain and pretend that you have no idea what he’s speaking in regard to. But what good would that do here? Please Seokjin, can you share with me how being a gay sex cammer, which I absolutely already know about after watching you and masturbating to you, has impacted your life? 

God, how mortifying it would be for you. 

Instead, you let the comment go, cutting him enough slack so he can assume you didn’t hear him. 

“You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Seokjin adds. You shoot him a look. 

“I don’t really have much of a choice at this point! No offense, but it’s not like I’m making bank at the restaurant, and I already have chosen to withdraw from this term because of billing issues and–” 

“You’re withdrawing from school? Y/N!” He yells,  and you feel a heat of shame flood your cheeks as you see some scattered people shift their attention toward you. 

Now you were both embarrassed and pissed. How dare he scold you?

“Not from school, just the term!” you yell back. You’d made the choice in your spiral this evening, in between bio breaks. It was haunting you as you stared back at the packet of financial aid papers and billings notices. Streaming, you’ve now seen, is such a hit or miss game. And you truly can’t maintain the expenses that can cut into your work hours. Especially if you need to get a different job that isn’t streaming or working at the restaurant. 

“Is..is that where Spring Night Streams is coming from?” he asks, face flushed with embarrassment at his outburst. Your anger dulls.

“Partially. This felt like some way to sustain myself without it draining me. I thought maybe if I look pretty, people won’t just come and try to either ask me super personal things I don’t want to share, or they’ll just feed into basically the illusion of sex and pay me that way. And I can continue to play games and suck at them or be good at them, but the original reason behind why they came to my stream could be replaced with a different person, someone who isn’t so closely trying to dig into me.

“But, then I fumbled the bag, and you saw it. The viewer count was fluctuating so bad, and the second I interacted with that one comment, suddenly I was toeing the line for TOS and could easily have jeopardized my entire branding and be permanently banned from the website for sexual activity. Tonight was one of the lowest payouts I’ve made since I started. And now I know too, this could all just as easily go away if I’m not being…I don’t know. Compliant.” 

Seokjin makes a dissatisfied grunt, his breath coming out in a white puff. Now past eleven, most of the couples and families have dispersed, and the cute café that had advertised decadent looking hot chocolates is closed. The only thing remaining open is the tiny convenient store. 

You try to suppress a shiver but fail. 

“Come on,” he says, guiding you away from the railing and toward the store. 

Inside, the shopkeeper doesn’t even flinch or look away from his phone, which is streaming some sports match in Spanish. 

Seokjin places his hand on the small of your back as he guides you over to the drinks section, gesturing for you to select something from the warm options. 

“I wouldn’t recommend anything pre-made,” he warns, his voice low. “That stuff has probably been here since this morning.” He helps himself to a tea packet and the hot water dispenser. 

You browse a little and find a packet of hot chocolate. While it may not be the fancy, marshmallow delight pink drink that the café had advertised in their window, this will do just fine. 

By the time you’ve gotten your drink mixed together, Seokjin is waiting for you at the counter, a selection of different snacks piled high and a gentle smile on his face despite how bothered and grumpy the shop worker is toward him, practically smashing the food into a bag and muttering a total. 

You hadn’t given yourself a chance to really look at him before, but as he stands before you, you can finally take in how incredible he looks. While he’s wearing some gray joggers underneath, he’s elected for a long black puffer coat and green knit sweater and somehow looks so put together, so…boyfriend. 

Your heart flutters a bit and you try to tamp it down. This isn’t a date, you remind yourself, Get a hold of yourself Y/N. 

As you head back out into the chilly air, you both settle into a table outside of the convenience store, and Seokjin pulls the snacks out of the bag, all of which are your favorites. 

“You remembered?” you ask, a little stunned that he would commit all your tiny convenience store runs to memory over the months you’ve worked together and would split packets of sweet potato puffs and tiny, sweet cakes. He shrugs. 

“Morale is low. You need the boost. Now pass me some of those chips, I’m starving.” 

Your stomach growls in agreement, and you pop open the bag, nibbling away quietly. 

“You don’t need to people please to be a good streamer,” Seokjin says finally, rinsing his mouth with his tea. You chew your bottom nervously but wait for him to continue. “There’s tons of people on the internet who do streaming for all kinds of uh, stuff. And they make a ton of money without compromising their values to do so. Maybe instead of focusing on what you think people want in a stream, do what you want instead.” 

You sigh. “See, that sounds great and all, but when I tried that today, people got mad and left. Did you see all the donations trying to get me to say things or do stuff after that first one?”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, taking a big bite of a chocolate cake thing and chewing diligently. “Welrr,” he begins, his mouth stuffed full, “I guesh you have to undershtand dat peepo on dee internet will always chewz sex first to get what dey wan.” He swallows. “And if that doesn’t work because someone sets a boundary, fuck them.” He pauses. “Not literally!” A blush creeps up his neck. 

You laugh. “I thought you limited your swearing to mostly angry kitchen interactions,” you say, and sip the watery hot chocolate. You wince. 

“You chose wrong with that hot chocolate. I’ll make it up to you next time.” Next time. Your stomach leaps. 

“But you don’t see it because I’m trying to maintain a professional air most of the time. But I say shit, piss, cock and fuck pretty regularly.” Like when you’re camming, you mentally note. 

“Yeah, so, speaking of that. And boundaries. This isn’t really the most professional boss-employee relationship happening right now.” You gesture around you. You didn’t want to say it, but you know it needs to be addressed. Seokjin and you really need to figure out a new set of rules, especially now you know what he does after dark, and he’s watching your streams, too. 

He pauses and sighs. “Shit, yeah, you’re right. Look Y/N, I do want to talk about that. And we can address it. But before we do, I want to finish talking to you about what happened earlier today. Can we do a brief boss-employee dynamic halt for the rest of the time we’re up here? I want to talk to you as a friend right now, which we once were, even if it was for a short time. Will you let me do that?” 

You look up at him, and he’s gazing back with intensity, and also something that looks almost like desperation. 

“Okay,” you say. “For the rest of the time we’re out of the city. We are just two people. Friends. Not boss. Not an employee. Just us.” 

He smiles at that. “Yeah, just us.” 

Seokjin tried to not kick himself in his own ass for doing what he was doing now. Bringing you up here, to his safe place, was far too intimate of a decision. But when he’d watched the rest of your stream, watched you do stuff that– while he couldn’t be absolutely sure but he could assume– tested your boundaries and comfort, he knew he couldn’t just let you spiral by yourself. 

He’d been there before. During a show earlier in his cam career, Seokjin was once asked to try a more extreme kink on his stream which involved a thin metal rod that he would push into his urethra for pleasure. 

He’d agreed to try it before he’d even looked it up, and even when purchasing the equipment, he’d felt really queasy and knew he would hate it. But he’d promised, which he now understood was a fake law people set for themselves to push them past their limits. On the stream where he tested it out, he started shaking and crying, stopping before he could even open the package with the rods in it and ended his stream early. 

From then on, he had spent more time learning about kinks and BDSM. It was much more psychological and technical than he’d realized, with precise and careful movements, components of care, and more thoughtfulness than he’d ever really learned from porn or the internet. 

While he and Soon Yi had been exploratory in their sex life, it wasn’t like they’d ever done proper research when they were together. Looking at things now, he felt a little sickened knowing she could have gotten seriously hurt the times he choked her, not knowing the right placement of hands or pressure to make sure he didn’t cause permanent damage. 

Seokjin then reassessed his boundaries. He never wanted to position himself on his streams where he would succumb to pressure for money and compromise his own safety or desire. This was supposed to be fun.

The main tenets of BDSM are safe, sane, and consensual, which is hard to define on the internet. When something is leaked or found by the wrong party, it can especially compromise consent. With a permanent imprint of something existing once agreed upon, at any point someone’s right to withdraw consent can be invalidated simply because there’s a paper trail. And if that happened, then safety and sanity were sure to be called into question too.

Which is why Seokjin couldn’t stay silent after he saw you drawing breath after shaky breath after the first exchange with that follower. The instant regret that bloomed on your face as you so easily traded your comfort to make money, he never wanted you to feel that or experience it again. 

Which is why you now sat before him, the residual makeup from your stream still there but smeared, a thin looking peacoat doing a lot of work to protect you from the elements. This is why he said dress warm. Why were you wearing a glorified blazer in this weather?

He knew his time was limited with you, and that yes, he was already compromising this boundary that he’d set. But boundaries could be redrawn, and in this moment, he didn’t want the only thing protecting you right now to be that peacoat. He needed to protect you too. 

Granted, you probably were questioning his qualifications in this, and for a brief moment he considered telling you, but he quickly dismissed the idea when he remembered the video of him cumming and saying your name existed on his page if you’d ever gotten curious. Behind a paywall, sure, but it was there. 

No, for now, it was Seokjin and Y/N, friends. Us, he thought, and his pulse quickened unhelpfully. 

You sat in front of him, sipping at that awful hot chocolate, waiting for him to deliver more of his advice. He hesitated to speak more. Here you were, attention fully focused on him, and the dependence on him to get you home tonight, to move back into a world that wasn’t just you two and your own little universe, and all Seokjin was doing was considering how long he could carry on the pause. 

Maybe he would never speak again, and you would have to stay here forever, on top of the mountain as the snow began to gently fall around you two like you both lived in your own private snow globe. 

Wait, snow? Seokjin blinked, and sure enough the flakes were swirling around you both again, the wind kicking up your hair. You let out a sharp shiver, and that broke the fantasy of staying here. 

He ushered you back to the car, where now the snow was coming down in thick, heavy globs that signified the moisture in the air had increased, which made sense. Back in the city, the forecast had said it was set to rain, but he’d forgotten elevation impacts the weather, and that the change of moisture in the air also could result in ice on the way down. 

As you warmed your hands in front of his heat vents, he tried to think of his next move. It was now after midnight, which meant the road authority was probably not planning on plowing the roads anytime soon, and the accumulation quickly erasing the parking lot around you was a sure sign that it soon would be unsafe to drive. 

If you stay here any longer, you might be stuck together all night, an evil idea glinted through his head, and he felt a pulse of desire run through him as he caught a whiff of your soft, sweet scent. 

It would be kind of hot, the two of you snuggled in the backseat of his SUV, you clinging to him tightly to keep yourself warm through the storm as you used his parka as a blanket, the windows fogging up to give you two privacy as you moved tighter together, panting into each other’s mouths when you rubbed up against him and–

No. He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. Urging his steadily inflating erection down, he glanced over to you, noticing you were still shivering. 

He sighed. God, why did he have to get hard right now, in gray sweatpants no less? Nothing screamed “boner alert” more than seeing a dick swelling in light colored sweats. But you were still cold, and he decided he would rather risk you seeing him hard than your teeth chattering or you getting sick. 

Seokjin removed his puffer, handing it to you. “Here, put this on,” he ordered, and you looked at him, a tremor rocking through your body as you tried to eke out a “thank you”.

You began to put the puffer over your peacoat, but Seokjin shook his head. “I think your peacoat is useless right now. Maybe you should take that off and just wear mine. And then, consider getting a new coat,” he teased. 

You hesitated. “Uh,” you said. Seokjin’s eyebrow raised, and he swiftly adjusted himself in his joggers while you looked down at your coat before sighing and unbuttoning it. 

Fuck. You still had on that same top from earlier, and Seokjin could now see that it wasn’t just a sexy, low cut top that showed your heavy and full breasts, but that it also had a large keyhole cutout through the back, which meant you didn’t wear a bra with it. He bit his lip as he took in your hard and prominent nipples. God, no wonder you were cold. You were practically naked. 

His cock twitched, and any attempts he had at concealing his erection were useless. He was now definitely going to be fully hard for the rest of the drive. 

You zipped yourself into Seokjin’s puffer and let out a satisfied sigh as you nuzzled into the warmth. Seokjin took the opportunity to snatch your peacoat from your lap and drape it over himself, praying that would help conceal some of the compass-pointing-north bullshit he was trying to stave off. 

Unfortunately, you snuggled into his coat was just making it worse. 

Clearing his throat, he started the car, and slowly began testing the surface of the parking lot. It was a little slick, but nothing too bad. If you stayed any longer, though, you would definitely be here overnight. 

With a silent, sad nod to the outlook point, Seokjin prepared himself to head back to reality, where your moment of connection would be replaced by workplace congeniality. 

About halfway down the mountain, the snow surely turned to a heavy rain, aggressively battering down on the windshield and making it nearly impossible to find the lines on the road. 

“I’m sorry, I think I should pull over,” he apologized and you agreed easily, your shoulders relaxing a bit as he pulled over to the side of the road. 

“Well, we never really got to finish talking about stuff anyway,” you offered generously. 

Seokjin smirked back. “Yeah, we didn’t. Look, what I wanted to say earlier was that with streaming, you shouldn’t have to compromise on what you want to be successful. If people leave your stream because they can’t hear you baby voice their requests so they can get off, then fuck them. They aren’t the community of people you want to watch your content, anyway. Those are the type of people who are never satisfied, who will just demand more from you. Sooner or later they’ll be less kind and be aggressive and threatening. And you don’t deserve that, Y/N.” 

He sucked in a breath. “You just need a chance to build confidence, that’s all. Assuming you even want to continue doing these streams. I know you said you don’t feel like you have much of a choice, but maybe I could help you out. Uh, I could give you a raise or something so you could quit! And with school, too, I’m sure we could figure out something! Maybe if it’s not too late you could go back and––”

You held up your hands, signaling for Seokjin to stop talking. 

“I’ve made up my mind! And I don’t think giving me a raise or trying to help me with school would be a great way of maintaining that boundary we are supposed to have, remember? Something tells me a boss isn’t supposed to offer his employee an undeserved pay raise for her personal issues.” You huff.

You were right. Seokjin chuckled. “Okay, fair. I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to throw everything away like I did.” 

You whipped your head over to him. “Listen, Seokjin. I appreciate that you care and don’t want things to happen to me. But I’m also not you. And you also didn’t throw everything away but that’s another topic completely, one I thought we discussed yesterday morning. Regardless, I’m getting a lot of mixed messages here and I need you to help me understand what exactly is happening right now. Are you my friend or my boss? Because right now it feels like you’re telling me what to do like you are in charge of me but hiding it behind the guise of friendship and that’s not how this works. So explain. Ideally before you drop me off and we don’t speak again until Monday.” 

Seokjin swallowed hard, an anxiousness beginning to swirl in your stomach. This whole conversation felt like it was going south really quick. He scrambled to steady himself and took a deep breath.

“You’re right,” he said, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t styled it today, and the black strands were sticking to his forehead from the melted snow. “I’m sorry. You have every right to decide. And you’d said before that this was a temporary pause. And even if it wasn’t, that’s also your choice.”

“Again, yes, you’re right. But I also don’t see why you seem to care so much!” Your volume raised in annoyance and you crossed your arms over your chest in a puff. “You don’t get to decide I’m some soft little flower who can’t advocate for herself! Like yeah, I feel shitty about what I did but I’m just trying to figure out my boundaries, just like you said earlier! So yes, I have the right to decide if I want to go back to school or not! Thanks for pointing that out!”

If he hadn’t been getting chewed out right now by you, Seokjin would’ve thought you were the cutest thing he’d ever seen, your mouth settled into a sharp frown and your eyebrows knit together as you argued with him. 

Instead though, he felt like a jackass. He’d seriously overstepped in his attempts to protect you, and guilt washed through him as he realized he was placing himself into your shoes. Even if your situations were scarily similar, you still had the right to do what you wanted without his interference. Besides, his intention was to provide safety for you, not control. Maybe he’d underestimated you earlier and how you were utilizing your stream. Yes, you were uncomfortable, but it’s not like you were a child who was set to be taken advantage of, or that you’d make the same mistakes he would.  

“I-I care about you, Y/N. We’re friends. I know being your boss changed a lot, and while I sign your paycheck and have to give you orders, it’s not like that change in role made me care less. It’s not that easy.” 

You uncrossed your arms. “But,” you started, your tone softening, “you can’t both tell me what to do as my boss and tell me what to do as a friend. I’m not clocked in, Seokjin. And that’s why this is so fucking hard. Because my boss is the one who took me up a mountain after apologizing to me yesterday for his “gross misuse of power” when I’m the one who kissed you sitting on a fucking prep counter! And yeah, we were friends before you were my boss, and that means I learned to work with you and trust you as my coworker, and we shared interests so you can watch my streams and tell me about MapleStory. We have history and it’s not something we can deny. But you keep acting like I am not in control, like I am not an adult. 

“I would love it if we could stay on this mountain forever,” you added, taking the words Seokjin was thinking earlier and making them real, “because, maybe then we could just stay friends. I miss you as my friend! And I wouldn’t feel so…weird now trying to figure out which guy, Boss Seokjin or Friend Seokjin, is talking to me.” 

Seokjin was unsure what to say, just that he knew he’d fucked up yesterday not just with his behavior in the kitchen, but ultimately how he set boundaries with you. 

“I don’t know what to do about it, Y/N,” he said weakly, honestly. 

“Can I then offer a suggestion?” Your voice sounded frustrated, on the verge of yelling. He nodded. 

“On this mountain, right now. You are my friend. And any other time when we aren’t at work, we are friends. We are not the first two people who started a friendship and had a power dynamic at work. I don’t know what happened in your past that makes this so hard for you, and you don’t need to tell me. But whatever you said yesterday, it wasn’t true. I want you to trust me when I say you didn’t take advantage of me. Was it kind of stupid and inappropriate on both our parts? Sure. But I’m not this weak, breakable thing. You said so yourself with my boundary-setting for my stream that I just need confidence to assert myself and make sure I don’t get taken advantage of. So let me start with you. Help me start with you.” 

You leaned a little closer and Seokjin’s heart beat erratically. “I promise, Kim Seokjin, that whatever happened in the kitchen yesterday was consensual. At least on my end. And that I do hold you in regard as my boss during work hours most of the time. But I can’t fucking stand if you continue to uphold this standard when you talk to me as an authority and then immediately pull a hypocritical move and try to be my friend after. It’ll drive me crazy.”

Your voice was shaky now, like you were holding back tears. Seokjin fought the urge to pull you close to him, but god, how he wanted to. 

“What you do need,” he asked and you sighed. 

“Clear communication. On both sides. No more deciding for me. On anything. If I say no at work, it’s just as valid as saying no in private, even if it’s something you think is what’s best for me. Even if you don’t like it. Because you don’t know what really is or isn’t until I tell you.” He nodded in agreement. 

“I can do that. And I’m sorry again, for how confusing this must’ve been. I acted selfishly when I decided that my position as your boss overruled and negated any of our history. It was never going to be as clean as I wanted it to be,” he apologized. 

You managed a sad smile but nodded, a sign you accepted his apology. 

“Thank you. And also, I do want to continue doing the streams. I didn’t get to say that before. I do want to try after dark stuff. Because it feels like it could be fun, could help me stay involved but less personal if that makes sense. And…” You trailed off, humming to yourself as you tried to find the words for your final thought. 

“I really would like it if I could have your help in this. To help coach me in a way to maintain that boundary. You did have some really great points on execution. And I think maybe your experience in cam-leadership and management could help me both continue doing this but also finding what I want. And I need a friend for that. Not a boss or manager.” 

Seokjin’s eyes widened as he caught the last of what you were saying. 

“Wait,” he said, trying to put the pieces together. Were you asking what he thought you were asking? “So…you want me to help you run an adult-only, after dark gaming stream?” You laughed. 

“I need you to be my confidence coach,” you clarified. “Help me learn how to say no to my fanbase and keep myself calm throughout a stream so I don’t compromise. And like, I don’t know. We can iron out the details, the idea is so fresh to me, but I need you, my caring friend Seokjin, to make sure I don’t break the terms of service again and ban me from streaming.”

He blinked a few times, unsure how you’d arrived at the conclusion that he would be any good at this. 

But Seokjin knew he would be. He did this multiple times a week, and it’s how he knew you were heading toward trouble. What if he could help you learn how to protect yourself? Because you were right, you didn’t need anyone to save you. But you maybe needed someone to show you. And he could be that person. 

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll do it.”

As Seokjin pulls up to your apartment nearly an hour later, you feel a slight sadness that your night is over. On the way home, as the rain steadily poured and the city lights came back into a clear view, you’d felt a tug of worry in your gut that because you were back in the city, your agreement to stay friends wasn’t real, and that any moment Seokjin would be cold and formal, withdrawing his agreement to help you with streaming. 

You’d had the idea in the car in somewhat of an epiphany, sorting through the confusing dynamic you’d been shoved into. It made sense to you, now. Instead of trying to model yourself after the master, why not learn from the man himself? 

Despite your initial anxiety that he would back out, Seokjin if anything is all the more reassuring, gently nudging you with your peacoat in his hands to signal it is time to trade. You nod sleepily, shrugging it off your shoulders and trying to ignore the disappointment you have in no longer being enveloped in his warm scent. 

As you tuck your arms back through your sleeves, Seokjin gets out of his side of the car, the rain still beating harshly, but he appears even more determined to open your door for you, opening an umbrella to keep you and your coat from getting pounded on. 

You try to insist on sharing the umbrella, but Seokjin shakes his head, guiding you forward toward your apartment complex’s front door. 

“Thank you,” you say as you step under the lip of the roof with him, smiling up at Seokjin, who is already soaked. His black hair is piecey and dripping down his face, plastering a few disheveled pieces across his forehead. “God, you really should’ve used the umbrella too! You’re drenched!”

Seokjin laughs a hearty laugh, the squeaky, windshield wiper one that makes your chest burn. “Please, that coat you’re wearing is pathetic. I had said dress for the warmth and you picked one of the worst things you could find. Even a standard issue blazer has more weather resistance than that thing!” 

“Excuse you, but this coat most of the time is fine. And also, I thought you were just saying it as a formality! If I’d known we were heading into a literal mountain I would have changed my clothes!” You bicker back, your laughter filling the space between you two. 

“Yeah, well, now you know for next time,” he says, eyes flickering with something you almost categorize as lust. 

You beam. This time the idea of next time feels possible. If Seokjin and you can work on these weird work boundaries, there might be a hope something comes from this after all. Unless he’s gay, which you still can’t quite figure out, but you try not to think about that as he shakes his head like a big dog. 

“Okay, Sparky,” you joke and glance down at your phone. It’s very late now, and your body is quickly succumbing to the exhaustion of the day. “I’ll see you Monday?”

Seokjin’s shoulders sag, and he sighs, stepping back into the rain. “Yeah, I should probably let you go now. I’ll see you on Monday. And Y/N?”

His lips turn into a smug smirk as the rain soaks through his clothes. “Don’t forget that you promised me a crate of julienned carrots”.

©2024 by jooniperbonsai

[fissions-chips]

whump asks! any of the following, pls?:

🦷(who's most likely to bite, who's most likely to get bitten)

🥩 (who's most feral)

🔪 fuck (or platonic cuddle), marry, kill The Boys: Tim, Jon, Butler (none of whom are technically OCs but whatever)

Hmm…

Bite:

Jon is 100% most likely to bite, he lacks the physical defense of Butler and the almost-uncanny intimidation of Tim, so when cornered, he uses his teeth as a weapon.

In terms of being bit- Butler. Trying to help a frightened Jon, Vampire/Werewolf AUs, in the bedroom, Butler being bit is usually the most fun option to think about.

Feral:

I feel like Jon is outwardly the most feral, he has alley cat energy, but it’s usually in situations that warrant feral behavior. In terms of out-of-pocket feral- Butler again. You saw his instant response to being drugged in Book 1, and the way he and Tim decide to handle security for Tim’s office in TFT. Feral energy.

F M K:

I would cuddle Butler. It’d probably be like cuddling a brick wall but come on. It’s Butler.

I’d marry Tim- the man is a sweetheart who’s head over heels for his wife. I would 100% feed pigeons with him.

Kill… if I must, Jon. I love him, I really do. But I wouldn’t pass on a chance at the opportunities above over it. He can go out in glorious combat.

[lemonduckisnowawake]

You know, digging through my phone to fish out the TFT DND AU brought me face to face with some short fanficlets I'd written to get my writing pipes unclogged. @miriel-therindes is the one who gave me the prompt for this one, Tim Stoker and kayak, and I reread it and decided I enjoyed it.

So onto this dumpster fire blog it goes.

“What’s this?”

It was a shore, obviously. More specifically, the shore of a lake that seemed to stretch on for miles, which should make it a sea. But it was a lake.

“Okay, then…” Tim slowly spoke to the silence, glancing around the…

Well. It wasn’t as eerie as an empty spot of nature should be. He didn’t think anything could be eerie after his stint with the Unknowing and the Stranger and all that hogwash.

Still, it was empty, and also outside. And while the House of Wax was really only a five minute walk from the beach, this was—again—not a beach.

So why was he—and how had he gotten—here?

Well, that wasn’t a hard question to answer, was it?

He was dead.

For a moment, Tim didn’t speak, unwilling to acknowledge the very real fact that he was…

“I don’t think I believed in an afterlife, last I checked,” he spoke to the empty air. “And quit calling yourself empty air! I can still hear you. I can still—”

He paused, various emotions—most of them containing rage—flitting across his face.

“Why? Why is that damn watcher or eye or…whatever?” he yelled at the empty air—to the clear and unpolluted blue skies above him. “Why do I still feel as if I’m being watched and manipulated and—I’m supposed to be DEAD!”

He was dead, though. That was very much certain, unravelled and undone by the Unknowing as well as burst in the flames of a fire when he set off the bomb that disrupted its dance.

Something bumped against his leg, causing Tim to look down in anger that quickly gave way to bemusement.

"A boat?” he sputtered, glancing around for anyone who could have given him what looked like a kayak, matching wooden oars and all included. “And stop talking! How do you manage to do that without interrupting anything I say?”

“…”

“So a kayak, huh?”

“What’s a kayak doing in the afterlife?”

“…”

“You can respond now. I’d very much like to…” His words trailed off, the unspoken “know” still hanging in the air.

He then sighed, continuing to stare at the kayak. “What’s this for, anyway? Am I supposed to spend my afterlife on a wooden boat by the lake, alone with only you watching or…accompanying me or…whatever this is? What sort of a new hell is this?”

It wasn’t a hell per se, though, not that it could be with such…uncorrupted peace around him. Tim knew that if this were the living world, he’d be more afraid (and probably angrier, not that he wasn’t already indignant.)

To him, it seemed that the kayak was almost a…peace offering, beckoning him to hop in and sail across the endless fresh waters awaiting him. Water, perhaps, to combat the fire that he’d died within?

“A peace offering?” he echoed aloud.

A peace offering, yes, perhaps from the watcher.

“What? That bloody Eye? You’re not talking about Elias Bouchard, are you?” Tim said, his voice darkening as he edged away from the kayak. “I don’t want anything to do with him after death.”

But it came to his mind that perhaps the watcher that supposedly had given him this gift was a different sort of watcher. A listener, perhaps, maybe from another word. Perhaps even a fan.

“What kind of fan gives a dead man a boat?” he scoffed. “And how?”

Did these fans perhaps want him to continue living?

“No, thank you. Not while that is still thriving and leeching off our world. I’d rather go join my brother, thank you very much.”

Or perhaps this was a way to permanently escape the view of the watcher without them feeling left uncertain of his fate. Perhaps they wanted to know where he was but also let him freely wander away from their gaze.

“…you’re joking. Is this boat supposed to finally get me away from all those eyes but still give them a little peace knowing that I’m stuck in the middle of that—that lake?” Tim huffed, almost coughing due to the disbelief choking his lungs.

But maybe that was better, to sail wherever he wanted to sail, let them believe he was still floating around in an endless lake. They would know he was on the lake, but they wouldn’t know where he himself was.

Tim shook his head, thinking it over before sighing and getting on the boat.

“For the record, I’m not doing this because you told me to,” he told the empty air. “I’m doing it because I’m finally free from that blasted Eye. So let me go. All right? I won’t have anything more to do with Unknowings and taxidermy and dead ghosts in books and—and werewolves.”

Almost in response, the boat stumbled into the lake with him.

“Hmph. Well, so long, you creepy watchers or listeners or whatever,” Tim said, fading voice holding no regret as he drifted further into the lake.

“I don’t think I’ll miss you.”

And there he went, shifting from shape to blur of color to speck to…nothing.

Tim Stoker, it seemed, had sailed into a realm beyond the purview of the watcher. Nothing left of him to be seen, only that he had sailed away on a kayak in an endless, unknown lake.