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blacktofade · 4 years

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This is approximately 3 million years late, but what’s up. I’m still alive. Hope you’re all okay.

“It’s getting long,” Ryan says apropos of nothing on a Thursday evening.

Shane looks up from his phone and glances over. “What?”

“Your hair,” Ryan clarifies. “It’s getting long.”

Apart from Anthony, who’s quietly clicking away at an edit in the back of the office, Shane and Ryan are alone. It’s already dark outside, the spring nights still closing in quickly, and honestly, Shane would have left a long while ago, but he’s lost track of time.

On his desk is his abandoned beanie. He doesn’t remember pulling it off, but he’s not surprised it’s there. He gets a hot head and has picked up a habit of raking his fingers through his long hair, which accidentally shoves off anything in the way, hats and headphones included.

“Oh,” Shane says. “Yeah.”

Ryan leans in, reaching up to flick a strand of hair out of Shane’s eyes. “You haven’t cut it.”

Shane shrugs and pushes his fingers through it, tucking some behind his ears. “I kinda like it.”

Ryan’s gaze skitters across his face. “I do, too.”

Shane doesn’t think there’s anything he can say to that.

“You could go longer,” Ryan tells him. “You could do a lot with it.”

Shane leans back in his chair. “I could braid it.”

“You shouldn’t hide it under your hats.”

“You like a good hat,” Shane points out. “Seems hypocritical.”

“Maybe I like your hair more than I like hats.”

Shane spares a glance back at Anthony, who has his headphones on and doesn’t seem to even know they’re there.

“You suddenly have a lot of opinions about my hair,” Shane says looking at him again and Ryan shrugs.

“I like it long.”

“So you’ve said.”

Ryan rubs the bridge of his nose. “How long do you think you’ll let it get?”

Shane grabs a nearby pen, using it to occupy his antsy hands. “I think you’ve thought about this a lot more than I have.”

“You were the one who decided to grow it out,” Ryan scoffs, clearly trying to save face. “You’ve gotta have a general plan.”

“No,” Shane insists. “I just missed a haircut, which was fine until you decided I deserved the third degree about it.”

“I’m not giving you the third degree,” Ryan tries and Shane lifts an eyebrow.

“So there’s no newfound interest in my hair.”

“I mean, it’s hard to ignore,” Ryan says, gesturing vaguely at Shane’s head. After a lack of reaction from Shane, he huffs in frustration and leans over, reaching into Shane’s space.

The second Ryan’s fingers curl into Shane’s hair, part of Shane’s brain yells that he should pull away, but overwhelmed by unexpectedness, the rest of his brain freezes and he can’t move at all.

“Look how thick it is,” Ryan mutters, raking his fingers the wrong way through Shane’s hair to muss it. Shane washed it that morning, which means it’s fluffy and unstyled. He hadn’t even put gel in it because he’d planned on covering it with his hat. “You missed one haircut and this is what happened?”

“It started with one missed haircut,” Shane explains softly, half afraid to move his mouth too much and draw attention to the quickly growing weirdness of the situation.

“It’s been months,” Ryan continues idly, fingers shifting in a way that Shane can’t predict, that keeps him on edge.

“Sure,” he agrees, glancing at the inside of Ryan’s elbow and the flex of his arm as he holds it aloft.

“I can just grab a whole handful,” Ryan announces, and Shane finds all the air suddenly rushing out of his lungs as Ryan tightens his grip and does just that. It tugs at the roots of his hair, tipping his head in the direction of Ryan’s hold.

Shane doesn’t expect to let out the noise he does, least of all one that sounds horrifically sexual in every way possible.

Ryan pauses and their eyes meet in what could be the longest second of Shane’s life. And just like that, Ryan’s letting go, pulling away like he’s just burned his hand on a stovetop.

“Fuck,” Ryan says, blinking like he’s only just realizing what’s happening. He glances to his right, towards where Shane knows Anthony is still working, but he turns back to Shane almost immediately and Shane knows Anthony hasn’t noticed. “Jesus. Sorry.”

Shane doesn’t think sorry covers any part of it.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

Shane should say something like you’re right or try to make a joke about being the next Fabio, but instead he does nothing, just keeps quiet.

“I didn’t think,” Ryan admits. “I just — ” he flexes his hand and Shane understands. Ryan has a habit of doing that — just acting without thinking.

“It’s fine,” Shane finds himself saying, because it’s easier than anything else.

“I just — ” Ryan starts and Shane can’t let him finish the thought.

“It’s late,” Shane interrupts. “I should go.”

He pulls his hat on because he feels strangely vulnerable with his hair exposed now, but the action doesn’t seem to be lost on Ryan, who quickly glances away, probably already internalizing things.

“Don’t go because of me,” Ryan says and Shane shakes his head like Ryan’s not the issue.

“It’s late,” he repeats.

It doesn’t feel right to leave with things left unspoken, but Shane knows that sometimes it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie.

He undocks his laptop and slips it into his bag, ready to go in the blink of an eye, already an expert on extracting himself from awkward situations.

“You’ll be in early for the meeting tomorrow?” Ryan asks, clearly grappling for something just to make sure they’re okay.

Shane knows him. He holds Ryan’s gaze as he says, “Yeah, I’ll be here.” Meaning, it’s okay, you haven’t scared me off completely.

Ryan nods, adjusting a post-it note on his desk, like it’s the thing he’s most worried about. “Okay, cool. I’ll see you later.”

Shane tips his head in response and carefully slips past him to leave.

He takes a moment to lean against the office door, letting out a heavy breath as he adjusts his beanie. It feels like something too huge to think about...so he just doesn’t. He shifts the strap of his bag onto his shoulder more securely and then heads down the hallway towards the elevator.

He’s just pushed the call button for the elevator when he hears the office door open and close behind him. He’s not entirely surprised when he turns to find Ryan standing there, five or six paces away, but that doesn’t mean it makes sense.

“Did I forget something?” he asks, but Ryan’s quick to shake his head.

“No, I — I think it’s hot,” Ryan says instead and it feels like the continuation of a conversation Shane doesn't remember having with him.

“In the office?”

“Your hair,” Ryan explains, taking three steps closer, and the bottom of Shane’s stomach drops like he’s staggered backwards and plummeted straight down the elevator shaft. “The longer it gets, the hotter it is.”

Shane grabs the strap of his bag, his whole body feeling unsteady, like the slightest push might send him sprawling.

“What?” he says. “Is this a bit?”

“God, I wish,” Ryan mutters, shoving his fingers through his own hair to push it out of his face. “It would make it so much easier.”

Shane stares at him silently because for once in his life, Ryan has rendered him speechless. He has no idea how to respond or even how to act natural. It’s like he’s suddenly become aware of each breath he takes, which only makes it harder to remember how to breathe normally.

“It’s been driving me crazy,” Ryan continues like he just doesn’t know when to quit. “Every time I look at you, I just want to — ” He raises his hands and clenches them into fists.

“You want to fight me?” Shane asks, because it turns out that when he panics, he deflects with humor.

“Yeah, sorta,” Ryan says with a snort. “But I also want to get my hands in your hair.”

The thought makes Shane’s legs feel weak. “That’s new.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Ryan says not realizing Shane’s talking to himself. “Bad timing, huh?”

“No better time to hit on your coworker than after starting a company with them.”

“I thought I was hitting on my friend,” Ryan tells him, which makes Shane swallow thickly.

Behind him, the elevator dings, having finally arrived, the doors quietly sliding open. Shane glances backwards at it, knowing it’s his one chance to escape. He could duck inside and be out of the building before Ryan even realizes he’s fleeing. He could keep his head down and wait for whatever it is that’s happening to pass.

Instead, after a long minute, he watches the doors close and turns back to Ryan. “This is a bad idea,” he says and Ryan nods in agreement, his eyes seeming brighter with the knowledge that Shane hasn’t immediately left, that Shane hasn’t rebuffed him.

He takes a step closer to Shane, staring up at him. Shane doesn’t know what to do, so he does nothing. He watches as Ryan reaches up, slowly so as to give Shane time to move if he wants to, but Shane doesn’t. He pulls Shane’s beanie off with a deliberate tug, freeing Shane’s hair.

He tucks it into the front pocket of Shane’s bag, which shouldn’t feel illicit, but does anyway. Shane feels his pulse begin to quicken as Ryan leans in, hands raised as he slides his fingers into Shane’s hair, sighing like it’s all he’s ever wanted.

“It’s soft,” Ryan tells him, like it’s not the weirdest thing he’s done and said. He cards his fingers through it a few times, parting it to one side and then the other, as though he can’t decide which way is his favorite. Eventually, he pushes one hand around to the back of Shane’s head, firmly gripping a handful of hair and tugging just enough to rock Shane backwards into the hold. “You liked this earlier.”

Shane lets his eyes shut, senses narrowing in on the dull ache of Ryan pulling again, a little harder this time.

“I’m going to grow it out more,” Shane blurts, which wasn’t what he was planning on saying. He wasn’t going to say anything, in all honesty, and he still hasn’t decided how long he’s going to keep the hair. But one touch from Ryan and he’s apparently making all kinds of rash decisions. “What do you think?”

“I think you already know my answer,” Ryan tells him and it’s a genuine surprise when Ryan pulls him down, pushes up onto his toes, and kisses him.

His mouth is warm and insistent and Shane finds himself automatically gripping Ryan’s shoulders in his surprise. For a second, he thinks he should nudge Ryan away — it’s not the time nor place for it — but instead, he clutches at Ryan’s sweatshirt and Ryan deepens the kiss like he knows exactly what he wants and how he’s going to get it.

Shane doesn’t think a single kiss should be able to change his life so easily. He thought his evening would be uneventful. He’d wrap up work, pick up a pizza, and watch Netflix until he accidentally fell asleep on the couch. Instead, he’s kissing Ryan in the hallway of their office.

He pulls back carefully, a hand on Ryan’s sternum to keep him from leaning back in immediately, and Ryan exhales shakily against his mouth.

“That was unexpected,” he says and Shane lets out a huff of laughter.

“You kissed me.”

"So what,” Ryan argues. “I got caught up in the moment.”

He lets go of Shane’s hair, patting at it in a clear attempt to try to flatten it again.

“Not the best place for this,” Shane admits and Ryan steps back, rubbing a hand over his face like he still can’t believe what he’s done. Honestly. Shane can’t either. Ryan lets out a long breath and looks at him.

“Did you already order a Lyft?”

“No,” Shane admits. “Not yet.”

“I can give you a ride, if you want,” Ryan offers and Shane raises an eyebrow at him.

“How many bases are you planning on rounding tonight?”

Ryan laughs, but shrugs casually. “As many as you’ll let me.”

It would definitely be a change of pace from falling asleep on the couch, he thinks, which might be why he finds himself automatically nodding, intrigued by the possibilities.

“If you’re lucky, I might even let you explain the rules of baseball to me.”

“Would that be considered foreplay?” Ryan asks with a quirk of his mouth and Shane gives him a gentle push back a step.

“I’ll meet you in the lobby downstairs,” he says instead of answering and Ryan almost trips over his own feet in his hurry to turn back towards the office.

“I’ll be five minutes,” Ryan says over his shoulder, already halfway down the hallway and Shane lets out a quiet laugh, watching him go.

“Sure,” Shane agrees. “See you in five.”

#shyan #fic: watcher #thing wot i wrote #fic #lovely anon #answer

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aceofwhump · 4 years

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Saw your post about your Cursed fic - you’re at 20k already?!! I’m so happy for you!! Sending lots of good vibes and energy - you can do this! Hope you’re having fun with it ;) - @whumpthencomfort

@whumpthencomfort YES! I just hit the 20k mark and it blows my mind! I haven’t written a thing in like two years and now I’m chucking out 20k words of a fic I only intended to be a few thousand! IT’S CRAZY!! AND I’M NOT DONE!! AHH!!

So far the plot is: Lancelot is hurt. Gawain and Squirrel take care of him. Lancelot feels better. Lancelot gets hurt again. Gawain and Squirrel take care of him. Repeat until fic ends. 🤣🤣🤣

Thanks! I’m really happy about it too!! It feels so good to be writing again even if I’m very rusty at it and this definitely needs editing lol. I happily accept the good vibes and energy!! I need all the energy I can get cause I am determined to finish it! It’s getting done! I’m even avoiding new shows in case it causes me to lose the obsession for the weeping monk I have.

You want a little snippet? I like this part so here’s a tiny piece from the beginning of my fic you can check out until it’s done.

“With the boy gone off to get water, Lancelot took a moment to assess his injuries. It had become much harder to breathe now. Getting off Goliath may have made something worse, he thinks, but there's nothing he can do for it now. He slowly undid the buttons of his doublet and peeled away the blood wet fabric of his undershirt from his skin, grimacing at the sight of his stomach. Blood covered his skin from the deep gouge in his side and soaked into his trousers. His skin was littered with cuts and lacerations. But that wasn’t what he was most worried about. It was the dark purple bruising that extended from his chest to his belly button across his left side.

Lancelot hesitantly prodded the skin above his ribs and nearly screamed at the pain that blossomed in his chest. Broken ribs. He grimaced and choked back a scream as he poked at them again trying to determine the extent of the damage and found that at least two were broken. Perhaps a third but it was to tell and he wasn’t too keen on digging at them any more than he already had.”

#whump #cursed #cursed netflix #cursed fanfic #ace writes stuff #my writing #ask #whumpthencomfort #mod post #mod replies #Anonymous

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hopelessromanticspoonie · 4 years

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A New Year’s Truth

Characters: Loki x Empath Avenger Reader

Summary: Reader is stuck at Stark Tower with Loki after the December holidays are finished. But each glancing touch with Loki speaks a truth that he doesn’t seem willing to face. Will the New Year change that?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This is only loosely edited, as I’m still very very ill. I will go back and further edit it once I’m better, but I wanted to get this out to y’all before the New Year. I hope you enjoy!

The time between the various winter holidays and the New Year was always a weird one.

It was as if the world was stuck in a holding pattern, waiting with bated breath for a new year with new expectations to begin. When was the right time to take down all the festive decorations? How long was socially acceptable to do absolutely nothing on the couch but watch cheesy movies from your childhood and pig out on chocolate-covered treats? All the stress and excitement died down to leave everyone in a trance-like state, shuffling in pajamas from the couch to the kitchen to bed and back again. For some it was a relief, to finally have the stress and familial obligations lifted from their weary shoulders. For others, that had never been a concern, and one day just melted into the next.

It was the fourth day that you’d worked on permanently etching a likeness of your backside into the couch while you binged Bake Off and ate your weight in the last of the cookies you had made for Christmas. They were left behind, as were you, after your teammates had all split off to spend the last of the year with their respective families - even Steve and Bucky had gone with Nat and Sam to relax with Clint’s family.

You wiped a stray crumb from your shirt when Loki strolled in from the direction of the kitchen. He was the only other inhabitant in the tower, choosing to stay rather than to go to New Asgard with Thor and play diplomat for a people lukewarm to him at the best of times. You didn’t blame him. He cast a critical eye at your disheveled appearance before folding himself gracefully into the comfortable leather chair he preferred, pulling a book from his pocket dimension to read while he sipped at the steaming mug in his hand.

You could practically feel the judgment pouring off of him in waves without looking at him. Groaning at your ruined relaxation, you rolled your head around to stare at him, quirking a brow. “Out with it.”

He mirrored your expression, although with much more disdain and arrogance than you could ever muster. “I beg your pardon.”

“I don’t need to go over there and touch you to know that you’re judging me. Spill it,” you muttered, sitting up and stretching, arching your back into it with a sigh you felt all the way down to your toes. You tugged your hoodie back down from where it had exposed just a sliver of the skin of your stomach, and Loki’s eyes quickly flitted from it back up to your face. Interesting.

“If you must know,” he closed his book, leaving it to rest on his lap, “I am honestly astonished that one could descend so far into a vegetative state without going comatose. I do not believe you have moved from that spot but to sleep or gather food in days.”

You stood, brushing cookie crumbs from your sweatpants absentmindedly. “And?”

“It is almost impressive, were it not such a waste. There is much to be done, and yet you are perfectly content to waste away watching others live their lives.”

As if he was one to talk, sitting there drinking his tea without a care in the world. “And what is there to be done exactly?”

“To begin, the decorations from Christmas and Hanukkah remain on display, and the kitchen is almost out of provisions,” he rattled off with a shrug.

Well, that second one certainly would need tending to. Normally the groceries were delivered twice a week from a food order that everyone contributed to, but you had forgotten about it when it hadn’t been brought to your attention. Perhaps a bit of fresh air would do you some good. You left the room without another word, quickly dressing and making yourself presentable to the public before coming back out into the living room with Loki’s wool pea coat draped over your arms.

“C’mon, Muscles. You can help me carry the groceries.” You held up his coat for him in invitation, shaking it lightly.

He rose, smoothing his hands down his white button-up shirt to come to a stop on his hips. There weren’t any wrinkles to be found on his outfit, but you would touch that body at any opportunity if given the chance, so who could blame him? “You expect me to accompany you to the market?”

You popped up a hip and mocked his rich, velvet accent that admittedly sent shivers of pleasure down your spine. “You expect to eat, don’t you?”

The once pristine glittering snow had morphed into a grey sludge that sucked at your feet with each step back from the store. Your hands were thrust out from your sides to maintain your tenuous balance as you trudged along behind Loki, who had taken the reusable bags full of food from you without protest excluding a well-executed roll of his dark eyes. His towering figure cut a path through the crowded New York City pedestrians who watched him with unabashed curiosity and trepidation as he passed. You were afforded mostly confusion as you inelegantly followed in his footsteps.

Until your foot slipped on a hidden patch of ice beneath the slurry, and a squeak of shock came from your throat as your hands flailed out wildly for something to grab onto. Concern rushed through you, strong and overwhelming, as Loki’s hands grasped yours to keep you from falling. When you looked up to him in grateful shock, and your eyes locked, tendrils of desire snaked out from his heart to wrap around yours and squeeze with the barest of heat. There wasn’t any mistaking the feelings he had at that moment, no matter how fleeting, and you both knew it.

“Thanks,” you murmured, awestruck in the face of such intense emotions that Loki worked to keep hidden.

He jerked back from you as if you had burned him, picking up the bags he had forgotten in his haste to help you. “Do not mention it. Come. I’m famished and you obviously are not suited for this weather.”

“Is this absolutely necessary?”

You looked up from where you kneaded the flour-covered dough against the countertop, jaw set in determination as you leaned into your work. “It tastes better when you make it from scratch. I figured someone with your impressive knife skills wouldn’t find it challenging to chop a bit of garlic and tomatoes for a simple pasta sauce. If I’m mistaken…”

Loki bristled, his eyes tightening as he made quick work of unbuttoning his sleeves before rolling them up the pale expanse of his arms. “I am quite capable of performing such a menial task.”

You dropped your gaze to the exposed skin, delighting silently in the flex of his forearms as he set to work doing as you had asked. It was quiet, calming, to work together in the kitchen. The rhythmic sound of his knife hitting the wooden cutting board timed with your rolling and kneading the pasta dough was almost musical, working with the pulse pounding in your ears at such a domestic scene to keep you very alert.

Not too alert, apparently, as when you began to cut the long floured noodles from your rolled sheet of dough, you managed to slice the pad of your index finger.

“Shit!” you cursed, dropping the knife and pulling the bleeding digit into your mouth. You quickly checked to make sure you hadn’t ruined the dough, eyes darting around the room for something to staunch the bleeding.

“Let me see,” Loki commanded quietly from behind you.

You turned to him to see his hands held out for yours, exasperation written into the firm set of his mouth. “You don’t have to touch me. It’s okay.”

“Let me see,” he repeated, gently encircling your wrist with his long, elegant fingers, pulling your finger from in between your lips.

There was that concern again, warm and soft as it wrapped around you like a blanket from where his hands deftly worked at cleaning and wrapping your hand in a band-aid. You weren’t used to people touching you, not of their own accord, not once they knew that you could feel their every emotion through the connection. It was an invasion of privacy, and more than that, it was opening them up to the possibility of you pushing certain feelings onto them - an aspect of your powers that you never used unless in dire situations on missions.

You would never do that to Loki, even with the desire that unfurled deep within your belly as you watched his calculated emerald eyes admire his handiwork. Anything that he felt, you wanted it to be authentic and coming only from him. Which was why the affection that teased just at the edges of your awareness made your breath catch in your throat, and your gaze drop to his lips as he wetted them with a flick of his tongue.

“Loki, I-”

“Perhaps I should finish the rest of the meal, so you do not risk ruining the pasta with your blood,” he commented dryly, leaving you empty as he released you from his hold.

You cradled your hand to your chest as if you could still feel the affection he had unwittingly shared on the stinging skin. “Of course. Just do what I was doing, without the stabbing part.”

You should’ve worn gloves for the party. Or perhaps a dress with sleeves.

The combination of so many bodies jostling around you, leaving you with just flashes of humor, lust, frustration, anger, sadness, and so many more emotions that you couldn’t name but could taste on your tongue, was too much. Tony had gone all out with the guest list for the New Year’s Eve party, and you felt positively ill at so many sensations washing over you in time with the pounding music and conflicting colognes and perfumes invading your nose.

The frigid wind on the balcony was a welcome breather, whipping around you and electrifying your senses to remove the lasting negative effects of the others from your person. Until you were just you again, as conflicted and frustrated as ever as you thought about Loki and Thor chatting amiably with amiably inside. The countdown was due to begin soon, and you didn’t want to see who the dark god paired off with to welcome in the new year with a kiss. That was one mental image you were perfectly content not to have engraved in your brain for the foreseeable future.

“The party not to your liking?”

Your chin lifted from where it had settled on your chest to watch the crowds below, all packed together and shouting their revelry into the abyss that climbed up the tower windows to reach your cold-reddened ears. “I didn’t realize it would be that crowded, and I’m not wearing sleeves.”

A coat, woolen and heavy and scented with cedarwood and spice settled over your shoulders to block the worst of the cutting wind. Your arms unraveled from around your waist to grip onto the lapels, holding Loki’s coat tighter to you. Loki stepped into your line of sight, regarding you with an unreadable expression as he leaned against the safety rail as if he wasn’t several hundred feet in the air. “That was poor planning on your part.”

“Yeah, but I look good in this dress,” you replied with a humorless laugh, swinging your hips back and forth as it to prove the point.

“You do,” was his warm reply, matching the slight upturn of the corner of his mouth as his eyes trailed down the length of your body slowly.

What you wouldn’t give to know the feelings behind that look, but you wouldn’t ever invade his privacy in that way. Not without permission. Thankfully, the cold air already turned the tip of your nose red and flushed your cheeks, otherwise the effect his searching gaze and thoughtful gesture would be much more clear. “Thanks for the coat. You always seem to be stepping up to help me, lately.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he replied in that crushed velvet voice that had just a hint of roughness to it as he took one step closer to you.

The crowd down below began counting down. You could barely hear the numbers over the roar of the wind in your ears and the pounding of your heart as Loki shielded your body from the cold with his own. His hands came up to settle over your upper arms, rubbing the soft satin lining of his coat into your skin.

And your eyes fluttered closed just before his lips brushed against yours at the last second. Love unlike anything you’d ever felt before matched the caress of his smooth lips over yours, catching in your heart and coaxing out a warm glow of happiness that you weren’t sure began or ended with the man cradling you in his arms. It was untainted by darkness, driven from the purest sense of adoration and affection that you had experienced from another soul.

His forehead rested against yours once he allowed you a moment to breathe, quite kind of him after having stolen the very breath from your lungs. Hope, sharp and bright, teased out from him and into you to make your fingers curl into his black suit jacket. “I am not one to easily speak my emotions freely with others. But you must know…”

You nudged your nose along his, your heart soaring at the physical contact and the shared joy that danced between you to the tune of your drumming heartbeats. “I do. You can’t exactly hide that from me.”

He gathered you into the warmth of his embrace, tucking your forehead beneath his chin with a relieved sigh. It was safety and contentment and promise and a love so new and bright that you hoped to never find its shadow. “No more hiding. Not in this new year.”

~~~

Little Bit o’ Loki taglist: @myownviperroom @grahoundart @darealbellabelleoftheball @boubouinscarlet @iamverity @rt8815 @lots-of-loki @otakumultimuseoc @ms-cellanies @rosierossette

Whole Shebang taglist: @yespolkadotkitty @nonsensicalobsessions @just-the-hiddles @vodka-and-some-sass @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @myoxisbroken @blah666 @brokenthelovely @myworddump @polireader @wiczer @littleredstarfish @the-broken-angel-13 @arch-venus25 @xxloki81xx @jessiejunebug @tinchentitri @sllooney @devilbat @vikkleinpaul @bouquet-o-undercaffeinated-roses @angelus80 @wolfsmom1 @kthemarsian @toozmanykids @claritastantrum @princerowanwhitethorngalathynius @sabine-leo @lovesmesomehiddles @peterman-spideyparker @wegingerangelica @bluefrenchfries604 @catsladen @silverswordthekilljoy

#loki #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki/reader #avenger reader #empath reader #new years eve fic #marvel fanfic

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ghostmartyr · 3 years

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So if you, like me, have nothing to do but wonder about the state of my inbox, you might rightfully be wondering how I plan to deal with the obscene backlog I have spent so many years failing to deal with.

If you have never wondered that, fear not, that doesn’t exclude you from finding out.

Today we’re just going to go through my entire slew of unanswered asks, and instead of answering them, I am going to provide excuses for why I didn’t do anything with them.

For added fun, several of the asks were in my Drafts.

I will not be cutting out the comments I started to make.

I will no doubt regret this.

Let’s have a time, shall we?

I don’t even know what year this is from. If I remember correctly, I didn’t get back to you because I thought about trying to reason out who would legitimately win, and there were too many points for both sides. I kept intending to come up with a proper answer, then time went by and this got buried.

Though the actual answer is probably “it depends on who gets the main character sticker at the time.”

...

Well.

I can tell you this is multiple years old.

We, as humans, aren’t equipped for time travel.

I didn’t answer this one because I didn’t feel like it was asking for one, and I’m only reproducing it here because it is really, really funny now.

Two years old. Plus change.

I think the entire reason I never replied to this one is that it cheered me up whenever I scrolled down enough to see it, so thank you.

You know, I entered the link at the time. Really, I did. But then came trying to come up with a comment and what can you really follow that with?

(Click the link.)

Okay then.

I still feel no need to respond to this, so that’s probably why I didn’t to start with.

Historia and literally anyone.

I don’t remember why I didn’t answer this, which usually means some combination of feeling tired and not being in the mood to scroll down to where it was.

Oops.

The thing is, this crosses dangerously close to being a fic idea. Fic ideas take time and effort. You can imagine the absolute dread I felt at having to engage with either concept.

It would have been a lot of fun to do, though. Hats off.

See, again. This is a very interesting concept that requires thought. I can tell you when I received it I was in no mood for anything that required anything of the sort.

I wrote a fic that is possibly never going to see the light of day now where they hang out in a kitchen with hot chocolate together and bond through unstated trauma and Frieda attempting to make things better.

That probably contributed to interfering with imagining how they would actually get along.

Anyway, I ship them slightly in that fic AU. Don’t @ me.

Oh dang. I remember this.

I actually really wanted to answer it, but the problem is that I wanted to come up with a good answer. Every character, tiered by their chances. A full Hunger Games edition of what went down and who killed who.

Then I didn’t.

Anyway, turns out the answer is that no one feels the need to chop of rocking chairs in a hurry, so she’d last a long time!

I didn’t answer this because I try to avoid responding with, “I don’t know.” My secondary answer would probably have been, “By being killed.”

Not that there’s anything wrong with those answers, but unless there’s been a tonal trend in asks, I assume that pithy answers that don’t actually have any meat behind them would not be appreciated.

I would stick to him probably being killed, though. But some signs do point to him being relatively immortal.

Hm.

Hmm.

I don’t know why I didn’t answer this, but I would guess it had something to do with me caring very little about Ymir’s thoughts on anything outside of her little clutch of people. And ongoing trauma of repeated dead/alive Ymir commentary killing off my desire to come up with a good answer.

Sorry?

I... have no idea why I didn’t answer this? Maybe I didn’t see it?

Anyway, yes.

There’s a longer version behind that yes, and I’m sure that might have contributed to never getting around to answering this. ...Assuming a past where I did actually see this one.

I have a confession.

I don’t really like crossovers.

There’s a sliding scale of degree, but that’s basically why this didn’t get a response.

Ah, we’ve landed on a recurring theme.

Sometimes, answers involve me thinking about the entire cast.

The usual consequence of that is I don’t have the energy for that, so nothing ever happens with these.

Oh, this one’s easy.

I had no fucking clue.

No ideas, head empty.

That didn’t seem like a good answer, so here we are, probably around a year later. I still have no clue. If I were forced to write a singing duo AU, I would probably just put some adjectives and nouns into a blender and flip a coin.

Names are hard.

I think I didn’t answer this one because I felt like I’d answered similar asks before. And I’m not really sure when this is from, but it’s possible canon complicated coming up with an answer that wasn’t distressed screeching.

Something something give Connie and Mikasa hugs, not partial about where they get them from.

Apparently not. Oops.

I can’t remember why I didn’t respond to this one. It’s possible the oodles of bad parenting proved too distracting to formulate such a post.

Sometimes I get an ask, and my immediate, gut reaction is, how the fuck should I know?

If I can move past that, the ask is answered.

If I can’t, the ask continues its descent through scroll hell.

I am sorry. There are no answers here.

Yeah, this is just the same as the above, just with I have no idea.

It’d probably be a Madoka Magic deal.

Huh. I don’t remember passing this one over. If I were to guess a timeline, I was probably too bitter over potential post-timeskip looks that I never got to be interested in focusing on the characters lucky enough to get good ones.

Go Connie for being less short, I suppose.

This clearly belonged to something that I was doing, but time has eroded the context, so I am simply left with failure and disappointment on all sides. Sorry.

Aw, we’re getting into the boring part of the inbox now, I think. Not because of the questions; you guys are always great. But I can’t think of a reason why I wouldn’t have answered this, which leads me to think that the reason was I was too tired to put words together.

That’s a boring reason, so maybe I should go into Drafts for the next few...

Yeah, still unfairly prejudiced against crossovers. I am no fun, etc. etc.

I have no memory of it, but I feel like I didn’t answer this because there was no way I could match this kindly anon’s enthusiasm.

You go, random internet person.

You have good ideas.

Oh no.

Uh.

See.

I know exactly why I didn’t answer this one.

I am so sorry, Anon.

I really didn’t care.

I am filled with affection for you because you clearly do, but uh.

...I basically put this on Read.

This has a very simple, ie boring, explanation. Any time someone asks about the cast as a whole, I want to think about the cast as a whole, and that takes a lot more thought than most of the asks I get. Cue putting it off. Cue it getting lost in scroll hell. On and on we go until we end up here.

Anything that opens with kilometers is something that requires more brain power than I have had in the past year.

Also I think I got this during a spoiler week, so I saw it, but I was trying not to look at it, and then it got lost in the post-chapter asks.

That happens a lot.

We might see it more soon.

If I can’t come up with words more than “-shrug-” I try not to answer.

...Good news, though!

The manga did my job for me!

I feel like I answered some variation of this. That might be why I didn’t answer this specific one.

The wiki does a better job keeping track of the timeline than I ever have. I probably didn’t answer this because it would involve trying to remember which volume actually name-dropped a number of weeks or months. Searching for lines I know a character said is pretty easy, but searching out lines I have a vague feeling of someone providing? That tends to hit the frustration button with the force of a truck.

But yeah, if you ever want to know how long something took, the wiki is absolutely your friend. They do good work.

Consider: “What if” questions are hard, and I am lazy.

This is actually one I really did mean to get to, sorry. It’s an interesting thought, and I miss Sasha.

...I clearly did a magnificent job answering your asks, friend.

Prediction asks are hard for me; I feel like I’m throwing darts randomly into the air and the dartboard is still deciding if it’s going to show up. So uh. I guess I just kept putting this off until it didn’t get answered.

This post is going to have so many apologies. Implied and otherwise.

I continue to be the No Fun Police who accidentally-on-purpose avoids crossover commentary.

I feel like I didn’t answer this one entirely because seeing it in my inbox gave me far too much joy to have it lost in a sea of posts.

This is what my inbox was made for.

I have no idea when this was from, but I see your emotions and appreciate them, Anon.

...Did I not see this one?

Hey, Anon who probably doesn’t remember sending this: This is a good ask and deserved some good attention, and I’m sorry I missed my shot at it. Good thoughts.

I didn’t answer this one entirely because I knew I couldn’t match the energy of it, and responding with anything less felt heretical.

That is one hell of a mood, Anon.

This is definitely from the era of, “Can’t think, brain empty.” Sorry about not getting back to you, I just really couldn’t organize my thoughts well enough to come up with an answer.

I feel like I didn’t know what this was continuing from and was too exhausted to ask.

LOOK YOU CAN SEE I WANTED TO ANSWER THIS BECAUSE IT’S A DRAFT.

Too many things, Anon.

I liked so many things about all of that. Trying to turn that enthusiasm into words wasn’t agreeing with me, so I put it in Drafts and told myself one day I’d do the most awesome post detailing everything.

Intentions, huh?

Every time I tried to take a normal screenshot with formatting Tumblr just laughed at me, so that might have been a contributing factor.

Dang, I’m really sorry. This is another one of those cases where I wanted to take my time with a response, and I took too long.

I, uh.

Am guilty of not being too interested in pondering Ymir’s thoughts on Levi or Erwin.

That’s it, that’s the explanation.

Yeah, I just couldn’t come up with an answer here? Or someone else asked? Or several of my friends decided to be annoying about lists on Discord? I don’t even know.

Presumably there could be a list.

There is not.

Honestly, I just couldn’t figure out how to follow that starting sentence up. A thought exercise on Armin, Historia, gender, and themes sounded really interesting, and I put it in Drafts so as not to forget it being interesting.

Then, you know. This post sort of paints the picture.

Ah.

Man, I really was looking forward to putting some proper thought into this. That’s the problem with having so many things I love in one place, I guess. Symbolism? Historia and Ymir? Mikasa? So many good things! Where do I start!

With paralyzing indecision that results in not a lot. Sorry, Anon. This really did light up my day when I got it.

Here’s the thing about me and writing:

I often fail to.

(I love both these ideas, though.)

Yes.

Do I know why I didn’t get around to answering this?

Absolutely not.

But yes, I’d agree with that.

GOOD NEWS!

The manga actually gave us some of them together in the future.

I occasionally giggled over their shared distaste.

It was a good time.

And this is another one I just do not know why I didn’t answer, whoops.

This never got answered because I couldn’t come up with an answer.

Broad questions are scary because they can go just about anywhere and I didn’t know how to handle that level of commitment.

I think I didn’t answer this one, A), because words are hard, and B), because mostly I just wanted to listen to more of your wondering and less of mine.

I probably could have answered this by saying I don’t have any, but that seemed rude, so I didn’t respond to it at all.

Yep.

Frieda is worthy of my time and effort.

Landing this in Drafts instead of my inbox.

Where the lighting makes it more obvious that hope has gone there to die.

I think about it so much too.

I find the answers fundamentally upsetting.

That is probably why I did not provide an answer here.

That is a lot of kids to make up headcanons for.

So I didn’t.

She’s eaten by dogs before she develops a personality.

Since that seemed like the wrong thing to say, I said nothing, and into Drafts this went.

‘I have no earthly clue’ seemed similarly unhelpful.

At this point, we understand that there is no mystery to my backlog.

This one hurts.

-sees the 112 reference-

Wow does it hurt.

As I hope is obvious, I really, really loved this question, and kept meaning to carve out time to work on it specifically. What went sideways was trying to put words to how EMA functions. I knew the feel of what I wanted to express, but every time I tried to write it, it came out wonky.

I’m very sorry I couldn’t do anything for this, because I was thrilled to spend time with it.

I didn’t answer this because Fuck Marley.

It’s nothing against you. At the time, I simply wasn’t in any mood to consider any version of Marley. Even the canon version was too much for me, so giving it my time in a roleswap AU had me hissing.

Roleswaps in general are amazing, and I love them a lot. A dedicated person could make a fantastic one based around Marley and Paradis. I think it would probably be cool af.

But I was so tired of Marley when I got this, I just couldn’t make myself think about it. Sorry. It’s a fun idea.

I didn’t answer this one because I kept trying to extend my response past, “I think he just really likes baseball.”

I think he just really likes baseball.

My feelings on that as a quality answer are derogatory.

Mm. The ones where I actually tried to get something started hurts.

Ultimately, this ask was a larger demand than I could make my brain work through at the time. I made sure to write down the tl;dr version of Sasha’s, because I found that desperately important, and not something that people talk about much, but the additional weight of trying to think of themes for multiple characters made it hard to progress.

Me, looking at the prompts: Hi my brain left me.

Sorry, Anon. Too many gears were moving for me to get a proper feel for what I wanted to do with this one, so I ended up ditching it. ...I was planning to finish it, though. Eventually. See, I even put the quote in the Draft version as a reminder of what I was doing, so I could get back to it right away.

Yeeeeah, this is just one more to the “I will give this wonderful thing all the time it deserves!” pile.

The pile is stored in the Failure Corner.

Perfectionism is the enemy of progress.

You guys really like crossovers.

I love that for you.

-spends two years ignoring you-

I mean, I just didn’t know what to do with the rainbows.

They sure are there.

They sure are pretty.

I sure couldn’t come up with a comment to add.

...I don’t know why I didn’t answer this. Possibly because I think it’s fine? I’m not too attached to it, and spent the whole manga period wanting to watch an anime version instead, then we got an anime version.

I’d guess that my general “meh” feelings interfered with responding here.

No idea why I didn’t answer this.

Yes, and good for you.

I support all thoughts on giving the Reiss kiddos personalities.

I think I didn’t get back to you on this because I wasn’t sure how to encourage you to keep going so I just sat awkwardly on my hands and felt weird about not saying anything.

...Thanks for sharing!

I love how it’s the little things that date these.

Unfortunately, we’re now at the point where 90% of the reason I didn’t answer was because I was too sick to muster up anything approaching enthusiasm.

Or because I’d just finished answering a bunch of chapter-specific things and was burnt out.

This felt pretty self-explanatory to me, so I felt like that gave me permission to ignore it.

Also, it mentions Marley.

I might be slightly petty.

Really though, I think what stopped me from giving a proper answer is that the question of what an author is trying to say throws me off a little. I work better thinking of it in terms of what the story is saying, with the author just happening to be the hands that wrote it all down.

I don’t know. This was probably another case of feeling like I should give this more of my time than I was able.

I couldn’t decide.

That’s it.

That’s the reason.

Everyone needs to give Mikasa a hug.

My blog title for a hug.

-the crossover snake hisses and consumes another-

I am so sorry.

This is fun.

I probably should have just gone with posting and saying so, because I am genuinely charmed by this. I tend to feel like I have to add something to asks to justify the post. That policy maybe didn’t need to be a thing.

I love my anons.

I want that to be clear.

Really, I do.

I especially love their willingness to embrace my crackpot logic.

Still.

Sometimes, the only response one can have to Schrodinger’s Ymir is to ignore its existence, find a pillow, and scream into it for the rest of time.

This replaces typing.

-looks at Armin-

-looks at Eren-

Yeah, don’t know why I didn’t answer this one, either. I blame tiredness? Sorry about that.

I feel like I didn’t answer this one because it felt like work.

This is where I start considering that making this post was a mistake.

I could have just agreed with you and gone about my day.

Probably should have.

Did not.

Another one for that, “had nothing to add so I just left it in a corner, abandoned and unloved,” pile.

There is an apology section at the end, but we’re not there yet.

This one I don’t think I noticed.

Alternatively, I did notice, and wasn’t sure “Yes,” would pass as a good enough answer.

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

Okay, time to really just get into it: I think for the remainder of my inbox, I didn’t answer because physically, I was just too damn exhausted, and I kept waiting for a point in time where I’d feel better. Sorry to put a limit on the personalization, but in the end, that’s all there was to it, and rephrasing it a dozen times will make me crazy.

And here we are.

Well.

Good grief, do you guys even have any clue how much I like all of you?

Obviously there’s a lot of guilt in the above, because I can’t tell you how much I wanted, each time, to give a great answer that would make you thrilled you messaged me. I am so sorry to all of these I didn’t get to. There were days when the alerts in my inbox were the best thing to happen to me, and I never wanted to let any of them go without acknowledgment.

I try to say thank you as often as I can in my responses, because that’s as close as I can get to reminding you all, constantly, that I am grateful for your participation. The only times I don’t say it is when I worry that it’ll look like it’s being done out of habit, not genuine gratitude. Or when I think you might take it the wrong way if I say thanks for a basic conversation. Because you provide me content and make me interested in things I might not normally look twice at.

There are so many instances of people saying hi, and thank you, and wishing everyone well here.

I haven’t been active in the larger fandom in two years, but I have always been so happy that you guys kept dropping by my space anyway.

You are a pleasure and light in my life, no matter how much snark I might throw about.

Thank you all.

#attack on asks #tl;dr #long post

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fruitsvillage · 4 years

Note

Could we please get a tutorial on how you did your latest lookbook? Ily 💌💌

ok this is gonna be a long post so under the cut is a general tutorial, i cant go step by step exactly as i did it since i didn’t save the editing file, but here’s at least my basic process i always start out with, plus how to do the silhouette effect i used in the last example!! also i’m not sure about your experience level re: image editing or digital art so i’m going to try and explain it in a way that hopefully anyone can understand but please feel free to come to me with more questions!! Also my screen res is very wide but I wanted to be able to show off where all the menus are, so clicking on the images for full view may be necessary for you.

OK so step 0 is gathering materials- you will need a photo that you want to edit plus an image editing program. You can easily get photo’s from your switch with the switch’s built in image sharing mode, either by posting them to facebook or twittter, and then saving them to your computer from there. Or if you have a computer that can read a microsd card or you have a microsd card reader you can plug into your machine, you can transfer images that way. The only other thing we need is an image editing software. I will be showing you my process by using Clip Studio Paint but you don’t need to use this specific program. I personally recommend using a program that allows for transparency even if the end result isnt transparent because it’s easier to move layers and elements around but that being said you COULD edit images with a program as simple as microsoft paint. There are free more advanced softwares out there like krita, gimp, fire alpaca, etc.

Step 1) While this step isnt necessary, I personally run my images through a filter to reduce the JPEG noise, to smooth out edges and to make the image clearer. You can also use websites or apps that do this for you like waifu2x or yome2x if you want.

Step 2) Isolate your subject from the image’s background. You can either choose to just erase away directly on the image layer or you can use selection tools to choose the parts of the image you are going to separate first. I prefer the selection method because then I can use a masking layer which I’ll get into in the next step. You’ll want to erase or select out everything except for your character (or other photo elements you want included in there too like if you decorate a bit). There are many different ways you can use the selection tools depending on if you want to opt for speed or for the cleanest possible edges. I usually use the magic wand tool to get a good chunk of my selection and then go in with the selection brush for precision.

Step 2.5) If you have opted to select out your desired subject then the next step is to create a masking layer. The easiest way to do this is to finish your selection and then to hit the Quick Mask button circled in yellow, it is represented in my version of CSP as a rectangle with a dark circle inside. This will automatically create a mask including everything except your selection, making those unselected elements completely transparent. The mask if shown to the immediate right of the affected layer. The black bits are what is hidden and the white is what is shown. You can edit the mask using the brush and eraser tools- the brush will expose hidden bits of the layer and the eraser will hide. You can also create a layer mask by opening the Layer menu at the top of the window > Layer Mask> Create from Selection. This is how it works in CSP, other softwares may not make use of the eraser tool but instead only the brush tool will be needed to edit a mask. I encourage you to search the web (google, duckduckgo, etc) “masking layer + (your drawing program)” for specifics on your particular program.

Step 4) Now comes the silhouette effect specifically from my lookbook post. Duplicate the character layer. This will create an identical layer for us to edit.

Step 5) Create a new empty layer and make sure it is on Top of yhe layer we just duplicated in the above step. Then create a Clipping Layer using the empty layer. Clipping layers will chain to the layer immediately below, and allow you to create effects that only affect the layer it is attached to. You may chain multiple clipping layers to a single layer in order to layer almost infinite effects.

Step 6) Using the fill/Paint Bucket tool, fill the empty clipping layer with your preferred color. Notice how the layer is technically completely filled with yellow, but it only shows up in the actual image as the shape of the layer the clipping layer is attached to!

Step 7) Reorder your layers so the original layer we started with is displayed on top.

Step 8) Use the move tool to drag either the copied layer or the original layer around to a position of your liking. You can then repeat this process as many times as you want, using whatever colors or gradients or brushes or textures you like.

Step 9) Draw or import textures or clip art* or literally whatever to decorate your image how you like. Elements from this piece include a heart shaped brush that came with CSP for free, a polka dot screen tone brush I downloaded for free from the CSP shared asset website, and hand drawn elements and lettering done by me! *When using materials you find on the internet for your edit work please, please make sure you have permission to use it. Don’t take art from people’s art blogs and turn them into stickers or whatever unless u have permission. If you dont want to draw it out yourself i recommend searching the web for royalty free clip art or textures. Hopefully this tutorial was what you were looking for! If not you can always ask me more questions and if it’s helpful or interesting for anyone out there the next time I make a lookbook edit I can record that as a video so you can see my step by step process as I actually create the image,

#long post #chatter #anon #acnh lookbook #tutorial #Anonymous

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pumpkinpaix · 4 years

Text

Hello! and PSA

*waves* hi everyone! so uh, I’ve kind of had a bit of a surge in followers recently, and I thought I would make a bit of a PSA/intro post with a bit more targeted info than my about page.

anyways, I’m cyan! statistically speaking, you are probably here for one of the following reasons:

my fic

my meta

my gifs

my translation

all of the above

this is pretty much an mdzs blog on main these days, but I also rb a lot of other misc things because I have never been good at keeping my interests separate. it’s also my personal blog, so expect some of that? i am very all or nothing ahaha. my opinions change very quickly as I process new information, so like, something I said last week or yesterday might be different now! I’ve seen several people going through some of my older posts, and I’m just like oh dear, I said a lot of things six months ago that I no longer vibe with. /o\ please keep that in mind as you go diving in my blog!

i don’t have a BYF or DNI policy, but I reserve the right to block anyone for any reason because this is a personal blog first and foremost, and I do need to be better about setting my boundaries and curating my own online space! on that same token, you are free to follow, unfollow, block, whatever, even if we’re mutuals. <3

you’re free to come talk to me in my inbox or dms, but please be aware that there’s a very high chance I will never get back to you /o\ it isn’t personal!! I am just very mentally ill and have many difficulties with keeping up social interactions or talking to people.

in the interest of trying to be more open about myself, my brain, and what that means for me in an online/fandom space, I’m gonna do a boatload of mental health talk under the cut (or, if you’re looking at this on my blog proper or somewhere where the cut doesn’t display, it starts right after this paragraph), including mentions of self-harm/thoughts of specific self-harm etc, just so you are warned! I’ve been thinking recently that it’s good to try and take steps towards being more open about my issues, both for my own sake and others’. It’s long, because one of the fun things about my mental illness is that I am hyperverbal ahahaha (if that... wasn’t already obvious orz)

so if you’ve read pfmmpd, you can kind of get a sense of what I’m working with. a lot of how i wrote lwj was drawn directly from shit happening in my own brain, but like? dial that up from the specific issues that lwj had in that fic and apply it unilaterally across the board to almost anything you can think of.

I hesitate to describe my OCD as debilitating, but only because my specific cocktail of compulsions and anxieties and triggers push me to be hyperachieving and hyperfunctional. I consider myself pretty fortunate (?) in that regard. on paper, you could never tell how absolutely batshit my internal landscape is! which is very good for me practically in that I can hold down a job, keep scholarships, graduate with honors, have good prospects for my future, hold onto relationships (usually yikes) etc. but the fact of the matter is, I’m like. oh boy.

to give you a peek, here’s a non-exhaustive list of things that have triggered me to varying degrees of severity within the last like, week or so:

my dog

a chinese folk song

my mother reading a chinese haiku to me written by a young gay man

a chinese reader of my fic lovingly and gently giving me a history lesson on china and on mdzs while praising me

stepping on a piece of snow that didn’t collapse in the precise way i expected it to

writing meta

reading meta

ruminating on my triggers (honestly, I played myself)

seeing a twitter thread going around tumblr with decent information but the OP is someone who was exceedingly cruel to a good friend of mine

visiting my grandmother’s grave

deciding to visit my grandmother’s grave

discussing the concept of cuddling my partner whom i love and have been with for four years

self-harming (truly the height of irony, being triggered into self-harm and then getting triggered by the result of the self-harm hahahahahaha)

dropping off a package

trying to explain queer-coding to my parents

talking about stressors in my life related to covid19

having a very pleasant conversation with a person i admire

editing my translation

the fact that the “close” button on my accessibility sidebar on the translation website is the wrong color

choosing between eating all the shiitake mushrooms in my soup and purposefully giving myself a bad reaction or throwing one out and wasting food

thinking about playing a fun game with my partner and a mutual friend

my mom asking me to take a photo of some tea for her

my mom asking my opinion on a photo she was photoshopping

animal crossing

writing this fucking post HAHAHAHA

like!! it goes on!! endlessly! obviously, these triggers are not simply “bad” things. the chinese folk song and the haiku were both really beautiful and i love them! but I did spend a good amount of time curled up on my floor in the dark sobbing as i played the song on repeat. the haiku was one of the last straws that ended up with me screaming and crying and hurting myself. the snow??? like wtf the snow thing. I stepped on the snow and it felt wrong and my brain just started screaming SMASH YOUR KNEECAP. ???? (I didn’t, for the record, and I would never.) I love my partner very much! I love my friends very much, and my mother, and my grandmother etc. my triggers are infinite, unpredictable, and bizarre.

I’m saying all of this because I want to be clear that MDZS/CQL fandom specifically triggers me on a daily basis, sometimes very very badly. this is just a fact! it is no one’s fault! I have decided it is worth it for me to stay anyways. it is impossible for me to request people tag for certain things because I myself have no idea what my triggers are until I encounter them. It’s like a fun mystery boss encounter! sometimes it’s low level and i’m well-equipped to handle it. other times it’s a one-hit KO. We just don’t know! there are lots of very cool content creators in this fandom that I can’t follow because it would make my dash that much more high stakes. the original source canon material triggers me! all the events leading up to Lotus Cove massacre? I was shaking at work for three hours after consuming it for the first time.

Meta specifically is something I know a lot of people like me for, but it’s 100% the most triggering activity I participate in for this fandom. like, that suibian meta post I wrote that’s currently going around? Probably took me four or five hours of concentrated effort to write because I was compulsively panicking and rewriting and editing and panicking more and qualifying and editing and qualifying some more and then debating whether I should post it or not and then fighting with myself about my wording and then immediately regretting it and then every time someone commented on it (regardless of positive or negative!) my anxiety spiked. I started a reply to a response on that post and had to stop after a few minutes because I was already starting to trigger myself over it.

this is actually a pretty good outcome when it comes to meta! I recognized that I was hurting myself before I got any further, and I only spent like, five hours on it! it was good exposure therapy for me! the bad outcome is. well. bad, as you might imagine lmao.

I like writing meta. I like talking to people about it too! I like participating in fandom, I like writing, I like translating, I like all of these things. they’re just also really hard for me! there’s a couple meta requests sitting in my inbox right now that I want to get to, but it might take me like. a long time because of. you know! *gestures* Everything takes me a long time. that first chapter of the translation took me literally five months from beginning the project to posting a final edited version. It’s just over 1k words. D8

I try really hard to be chill and kind in public and I largely think I succeed on the kind part (I hope!). If you thought I had even an ounce of chill before this, perhaps I have disabused of that notion entirely now lmao. I’m not saying this for pity, but like? just so we all know what we’re dealing with here. I don’t want anyone to get hurt when I don’t engage with them or feel snubbed if I never reply to them. and also like, hey, if someone relates it’s like hooray, high fave, solidarity! we’re not alone in this world! or maybe this will help someone understand OCD a little better! I don’t know. I hope this post is a positive thing. BUT! I’ve spent three hours on it already, and i’m definitely starting to compulsively spiral, so instead of going back and editing it over and over, I’m just going to post it. thank you everyone for your understanding! I hope you enjoy your time on my blog! (*´▽`*)

#/#//#///#////#/////#personal #psa #cyan gets too deep in the weeds #HA HA HA.#can't believe i'm using that tag on a personal post except like. of course i am #hello everyone are you ready for some cyan dlc?#well you're getting it #im anxious about this thing because i'm anxious about everything but!#we are doing exposure therapy this year!!#even if the world is burning down around us i can still try to confront my problems!!!#about

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joon-ipersgirl · 4 years

Text

O2 - “airplane”

genre: strangers to lovers!au, angst, fluff

pairing: jimin x reader (f)

word count: 3.5k

warnings: cursing

summary: they say home is where the heart is. you’re convinced yours was taken the day your father died. until you meet jimin.

you believe in love but after watching men cycle through your mother’s arms, rocky relations with ex boyfriends, and broken friendships, you no longer see it in your future. so much so, you never settle in one place long enough to create ties and call it a home, choosing a job where you’re always on the go and on your own.

a chance encounter on a flight from new york city to bali, indonesia, you meet. flustered by jimin’s flirty advances but enamoured by his understanding and good-natured tendencies, you start to fall. what starts as a work-trip soon blossoms into a budding romance, but will jimin’s secret destroy the relationship before it’s had the chance to truly begin?

a/n: whew! we made it to part two. thanks for sticking with me y’all. we get to see a little more banter with jimin. thank you again for reading and hopefully i’ll get the next part out on time for y’all. leave a comment with some feedback; i love receiving them. have a wonderful rest of your day/evening/night and thank you vi for being my editor in chief as always!

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You could only thank your sweet Lord and Savior for blessing you to fly on an aircraft that had some semblance of high-speed data. There was only so much one could do with the airplane monitors to keep yourself entertained - if the flight you were on had them. Skimming through your email, you stared skeptically at the most recent one from Michael. Hadn’t you just spoken this morning?

Y/N,

I assume that your meticulous planning has failed you for once in your brilliant life and you were late to catch your flight so you didn’t have time to check your phone as you would not purposely ignore a text from me. Gods be with you during this time - I have taken a moment of silence as I pray for your divinely placed gift to be restored upon you.

Onto more pressing matters, Julia has sent me an updated list of the things they expect to see in this video; please see attached. Because I have so earnestly prayed for your skills to be returned to you, I have full confidence in your ability to work through these minor inconveniences.

Just because I know you missed my text, I’ll say it again: remember the passion! Enjoy the moment.

Yours eternally,

Michael

P.S. Garland Sans has an exhibit coming to the MET! We must go!

You snorted. Michael was as ingenious as he was dramatic. One of the best in the management game, Michael was sought after to solve the worst of problems when regular members of his team couldn’t in his own consulting company, Callahan Consulting. His personality was infectious and made one want to strive above and beyond for his approval. It surprised you every time that you were partners and he was your manager as declared by himself. As they say, opposites really do attract.

Clicking on the files attached in the email, you groaned softly as you realized that though the wifi was available, it wasn’t strong enough to access any large multimedia files, the downloading circle on a seemingly never-ending loop. You sank further into the seat, your knees hitting the one in front of you due to the cramped economy design. Your fingers slipped easily through your short locks as you tried to stay calm. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you couldn’t see what changes you’d made. It’s not like you’d have to potentially rework your entire itinerary for the trip the moment you landed. You scrunched your eyes shut as you tugged on the roots of your hair in an effort to quiet your increasing anxiety. The softest of touches against your knee jerked you upright.

“Are you alright?” You gazed down at the hand splayed across your leg, eyes wide. It squeezed and you finally turned your eyes towards its owner.

“What are you doing?” you asked hurriedly, tugging your headphones off. The weight of his hand, though not physically heavy, metaphysically felt like it was anchoring you to your seat and you wouldn’t be able to move it yourself even if you tried.

“Are you alright?” stranger-that-causes-you-continuous-embarrassment repeated. “You looked like you were in pain,” he trailed off, finally removing his hand. You slumped over in relief on your exhale.

“Fine,” you replied curtly. You could feel the blood pounding in your ears as you shifted in your seat. His long legs seemed precariously too close to your own in the compact space.

“Are you sure? I can call an attendant -”

“No!”

“What are you doing?” he murmured, eyebrows raised and amused. Looking like any stubby child hanging off of the monkey bars, you were clutching onto his forearm and yanking down with all your might to stop him from pushing the call attendant button above you. The muscles under his forearm flexed as stranger-that-causes-you-continuous-embarrassment lowered his arm against the armrest. You blinked slowly as the realization that you were still holding onto him traveled to your central nervous system and you let go as quickly as you’d clung onto him.

“Nothing!” you inhaled deeply. “Seriously, I’m fine. You don’t need to call anyone,” you told him sternly. You turned back to your laptop and opened your 0618 Bali Itinerary document; adjusting your plans would calm the thumping in your chest. You could handle the anxiety of trying to edit the document blindly, but handling his apparent concern over your physical well-being was another story you weren’t prepared to read. He hummed in acknowledgment and settled back down in his seat, eyes focused on the book in his hand. How he managed to fit in any seat was a miracle.

“What are you doing in Bali?” he asked casually. He didn’t look at you as you turned to him.

“Nosy aren’t we?” you replied in the same tone, eyes challenging. Your eyes met, a glimmer in his.

“Hmm?”

“How did you know I was going to Bali?” you contested.

“Well, I would hope you didn’t board the wrong flight - though you don’t strike me as the woman to make that kind of mistake,” a soft smirk graced his lips. You bit your lip hard.

“Well, I could have been getting off at the Hong Kong connection,” you said, trying to counter.

‘True, but you confirmed that you were going to Bali when you asked how I knew that. I was just assuming before,” he replied with a shrug and a soft grin. You tongued your cheek in annoyance at his observation.

“Right,” you mumbled. You yanked your headphones back over your ears, cutting off the ability to continue the conversation for both your sakes. Only 13 hours and 25 minutes to go.

Your Fujifilm camera felt light in your hands as you recorded a few minutes of the passing clouds. Capturing the changes in the sun during the duration of the flight seemed like a simple task, but balancing the light and adjusting the colors so they came through as vibrant as what they really were was difficult. These would be the first shots seen and they had to evoke the right feeling - the passion that Michael and Julia were looking for. Your passion for your work, for your art, for your life. You stifled your groan, not wanting to cause panic in your concerned neighbor again. You frowned as you stared down at the short video you’d taken; the focus wasn’t as sharp as it needed to be. Turning to the interior of the plane, you held the camera back up to your eye trying to get it to focus.

“If you wanted me to be your muse, all you had to do was ask,” he said with a chuckle. “I won’t even charge you for taking the shot.” The corners of your mouth turned down further.

“You’re not my muse. I’m trying to refocus my camera. You just so happen to be in the way,” you said matter-of-factly.

“I seem to always be getting in the way huh?” He leaned further back in his seat as he turned his head towards me, the sunlight hitting his face so gently. You bit your lip and fiddled with the AF fine-tune again. “First it was your seat, now with your shot. What are you going to do with me?” he asked with a fake sigh of contriteness. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics and took another test shot, the corner of his face creeping into the frame.

“Absolutely nothing,” you told him, adjusting the calibration once again. He moved closer as you snapped another test shot. His olive skin glowed under the mellow rays of the afternoon sun filtering in and his smile filled the small screen of your camera.

“Would you like some help?” he offered as he noticed the slight tremble in your fingers.

“I don’t need your help,” you mumbled.

“Are you sure?” he asked again. “You’re adjusting your AF fine-tune, but you’re in the wrong AF mode. Any adjustments you make wouldn’t have a significant effect if you’re shooting the inside of the plane.”

Stranger-that-causes-you-continuous-embarrassment slipped your camera out of your hands, his fingers brushing against yours, and flipped modes quite expertly as the blood rushed up your neck and into your face. The sounds of your breathing echoed in your ears as you could not believe you’d made a fool of myself in front of him for the fourth time now. Michael must have been right when he said your previous abilities had left, the stress of this upcoming project getting the better of you. It had to be.

“Are you a photographer?” you asked. He took his own test shots, double-checking his adjustments.

“Here and there,” he replied nonchalantly. “I have a few friends in the industry and I dabble in a little bit of art myself. A hobby really,” he continued, snapping his last one of you before handing the camera back. You nodded your thanks and tucked the camera back into its bag; your nerves were too shot to continue. You could probably edit the footage to be better anyway.

“Excuse me, are you Park Jimin?” An attendant appeared with a tiny cart filled with food, her petite frame barely visible from behind it. Jimin.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Here’s your vegetarian lunch, sir. Please enjoy,” she told him as she set the tray down in front of him. Her reach was far more extended than it needed to be and you internally scoffed at her not so subtle attempt to flirt. He smiled and thanked her before turning his attention to the steaming plastic bowl in front of him.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a vegetarian,” you thought aloud.

“Do you think about pegging often?” Jimin’s smile was innocent but his gaze was not. Your eyes widened comically slow as you realized what he was suggesting.

“No! Not at all! What are you talking about?! I would never -” you spluttered out, hands waving frantically in front of you “- I mean, if you’re into that, then that’s great. I’m not judging you at all!” His laugh cut off your backtracked rambling. It was boisterous and loud and filled up the entire space between us as he tipped his head back, clearly delighted by your discomfort. It hurt your ears but made your heart jump. “Please stop laughing at me, Jimin.”

He hummed an “okay” and filled his mouth with another large bite of what you assumed to be vegetarian lasagna. Your eyes fell to his plump lips as you watched him, his jaw moving almost rhythmically as you counted each chew to ground yourself into the present moment. 7, before he swallowed. It was only the tiny flicker of his tongue against his bottom lip that reminded you that you were staring at him. Again. You busied myself with the in-flight monitor screen, extremely fascinated by the current flight path.

“So, are you going to tell me your name?” You raised your eyebrows at his question.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said with a smile.

“Why not?” Your smile widened as you felt like you finally had the upper hand, something that he seemed to continuously have.

“Why should I?”

“Well, you know what my name is. I think it’s only fair that I have yours as well. What else would be appropriate to call you other than your name?” He asked thoughtfully as he pointed his fork towards you, the mischievous glint never really leaving his deep brown eyes.

“Are you going to stab me with your fork if I don't tell you?” He lowered it sheepishly. “Besides, you didn’t tell me your name, Mr. Park. That nice flight attendant did,” you said with a shrug. “So technically, fairness isn’t a part of this equation. The odds just so happened to be in my favor.”

“‘May the odds ever be in your favor’, my ass. Alright, fine.” Jimin peered around your seat, leaning over into your space while nearly knocking his food off its tray, trying to find any semblance of a clue to what your name could be. He sat back and directly faced you, almost folding his body underneath the tray table to do so. You ignored the way his knee bumped against the outside of your thigh.

“Give me a hint,” he pouted. You giggled as his lower lip jutted out.

“You’re too big to use the puppy dog face against anyone,” you informed him with a laugh. Even if it was cute. You hauled your beanie off your head and wrenched your hands through your hair.

“Just call me Clifford,” he teased. He perked up, an imaginary lightbulb going off in his head. “Elizabeth! Is that your name?”

“No,” His shoulders slumped. “But it could have an ‘a’ in it,” you commented casually. His shoulders rallied at the small hint.

“Don’t worry Shutterfly, I’m going to figure it out. Promise.” He beamed at you and you offered a half-smile in return, your attention more focused on the attendants bringing the rest of the food to passengers as you pondered over his words. Promises were made to be broken, filling you with disappointment and regret. In fact, they only served as false assists in the game of life and you’d stopped playing a very long time ago.

The cabin became pleasantly quiet after dinner was served, the passengers settling down for the night. It was cold and you were grateful for the hoodie you’d folded into your bag, the thin airplane blanket not doing much to keep you warm. Your Saipan video was pulled up on your laptop again and you longed to be in the warmth of the beach. Adele would always know when you’d been out in the sun for too long, more freckles dancing their way across your cheeks as your tell-tale sign, but it never stopped you. You smiled at the memories of busted knees and skinned elbows from being too adventurous with friends during the summer.

Nursing your cold cup of coffee, you sighed in exasperation as you felt the strong urge to use the bathroom. Of course, it would only be fair that your favorite drink was also a diuretic. You chewed your lip as you contemplated how exactly you were going to make it out of your seat without disturbing Jimin who was comfortably sleeping beside you, his arms folded and face hidden in the confines of his hood. He looked peaceful and you felt guilty for even thinking about waking him up. If you went to sleep now, maybe you could hold it? You squirmed in your seat as your bladder protested profusely at the thought. It was now or never.

“Jimin,” you whispered and gently poked his arm. Nothing. “Jimin,” you whispered a little louder, leaning closer to his face. You whimpered softly as he didn’t stir. “Fuck this,” you muttered and pushed off the blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

Peeking over to the passengers behind you to make sure they were asleep, you carefully maneuvered your laptop into your seat before standing up. Jimin had titled his seat back to get more comfortable and you assumed to give himself more room - though again, you didn’t believe there was any space that could fit his long legs; they still touched the seat in front of him. Bracing yourself between the rows in front and behind you, you placed one leg in between the gap of his two and held your breath. So far so good. You twisted to face him so you could slot your second leg into the gap, bending over his sleeping frame. It was nerve-wracking to be this close to him in such a tight space and you prayed to your Lord and Savior that he wouldn’t wake up now as you’d gotten so far into your poorly concocted plan.

Just as you were slipping your left leg over and into the aisle, Jimin shifted beneath you. You froze. The strings of your hoodie dangled treacherously close to his nose. You pleaded silently that he wouldn’t wake up as you scrunched your eyes shut.

“Shutterfly?” The sound of his deep voice caused you to look down. “What are you doing? If you wanted to sit in my lap, all you had to do was ask,” he murmured as he removed his headphones and sat up straighter. Of course, he couldn’t hear you.

“I have to pee and you weren’t waking up, so,” you trailed off, ignoring his flirtatious comment again. He gave you a lazy smile that barely reached his sleep-heavy eyes. The distance between you was much shorter and you focused on keeping your breathing as even as possible.

“Hmm, you should go pee then,” he replied as he let his hand rest gently on your hip, nudging you into the aisle. You squeaked and darted from under his touch, hitting your knee on the armrest. You grumbled a string of curses and rubbed your knee as you headed to the back of the cabin, his quiet chuckles fading behind you.

The relief was imminent and you sighed in contentment as you washed your hands in the tiny sink. Under the dim fluorescent lighting, your skin looked washed out. Your eyes and cheeks were puffy from the high altitude and you tried to rub the tiredness away. You knew you should get some sleep, but the thought of accidentally cuddling into Jimin’s soft, warm body as you slept was so tempting, it was terrifying. You sighed in annoyance as you thought about your fellow passenger. He would be the bane of your existence with his deep sleepy voice and soft touches and stupid nickname.

You shut the door with enough force that you grimaced at the loud noise. It wasn’t as if you could shut all your thoughts of Jimin into that pint-sized restroom as you’d attempted to do with Tiago those many summers ago. You scowled at his memory as you angrily walked back to your seat, the pain in your knee forgotten. You tapped Elijah harshly on his shoulder but softened your gaze after realizing you’d startled him.

“Sorry, I’m in your way again.” He stepped out into the aisle to let you through, the subtle waft of his cologne moving with him.

“No, you’re fine,” you told him as you slipped into your seat and rested your laptop onto your open tray table.

“You think I’m fine?” you rolled your eyes at his dumb grin.

“Do you ever stop flirting?”

“Who said I was flirting?”

“Your entire demeanor!” you exclaimed. He hushed you and warned you to keep your voice down as people were sleeping. “Your body language, your tone, your eyes. All of it - all of you,” you finished, gesturing to his body.

“And here I was thinking you weren’t interested,” he said with the same smile. He propped his chin up in his palm as he gazed at you through his long lashes. You scoffed.

“No one is interested in you, Jimin.”

“Mhmm, I love it when you say my name.” You covered your mouth to stop the burst of laughter in your chest. He chuckled quietly and returned to his seat. “You don’t have to lie to me though, Shutterfly.”

“Delusional and dramatic. That’s quite the combination you have going for yourself, Mr. Park,” I commented as you searched for your additional Saipan clips.

“As delusional and dramatic as you are uninteresting and not flustered by me,” he shot back playfully and you struggled to keep the corners of your mouth from turning up as you kept your focus on the screen. “How long does it take you to do that though?”

“Do what?” you asked.

“Edit your videos,” he clarified, closing the distance between you again. It was becoming increasingly obvious that personal space did not matter to him.

“Oh. It depends on the project and how much material I have to work with. Sometimes I can knock out a video in a couple of hours, but other times I get stuck for inspiration or I can’t figure out this one technical aspect and it stumps me for days before I can finally move on,” you said slowing down as you realized you were rambling. “Sorry, that was a lot,” you apologized.

“No, I get what you mean. The purpose of projects will definitely define what type of style you go for. I’ve been in those spaces. No need to apologize, seriously.” Jimin rested his hand on your forearm in a comforting manner and you smiled softly at the gesture.

“Is that a genuine smile I see?” He shoved his head in front of your face trying to get a better look.

“Way to ruin the mood,” you said with a laugh. You pushed his head away gently.

“Wow, I think it is,” he continued. “Your freckles are beautiful by the way. And don’t worry about the mood, darling. I can create another one for you.” Jimin winked at you and placed a headphone in his ear.

“You’re a fool,” you informed him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“A fool in love!” he sang. “Don’t stay up too late. Gotta reset your circadian rhythm before we get to Bali,” Jimin warned. You shook your head at his concern; if only sleep was so easy. Even so, it was only 2 am back in New York. Plenty of time to nap and be up by your usual 4 am wake up time.

“Goodnight, Jimin.”

“Goodnight, Shutterfly.”

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#jimin fanfic #jimin fluff #jimin x reader #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #fic: bitter and beloved

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13lov · 5 years

Text

lucy (m)

pairing: pornstar!taehyung, tattooed!taehyung x pornstar!reader

genre: pornstar au, humor, smut, light f2l, angst if you squint.

word count: 8,305

summary: after reading a few more titles of the videos you’ve uploaded, taehyung has come to the conclusion that you’re the hottest fucking dumbass he’s ever seen and so desperately wants to fuck.

warning(s): smut (masturbation, sex toys, unprotected sex, fingering, creampies ; mention of: face fucking, squirting, gxg), !ENDGAME SPOILERS!.

a/n: inspired by that video of taehyung with the fake tattoos…good lord… sorry i posted this later than i said i would, some stuff came up :( not proofread so i apologize for mistakes.

With one final thrust into the petite girl beneath him, Taehyung was fast to pull his dick completely out of her with the sigh of relief. Sure, he sighed because it was in the script, but he would’ve done it even if it weren’t apart of the porno.

He flopped on the bed, right next to the girl who was playing the role of his horny step-sister. He visualized the script in his head, and waited a few seconds before turning to his co-star and saying, “I gave you what you wanted, now, can I have my skateboard back?”

“AND CUT!” the director yells, standing up from his chair across the room. Taehyung’s manager, Seokjin, enters the set with a bathrobe in one hand and water bottle in the other and hands Tae both. “Everyone did a great job today! Remember to report back here tomorrow at two for the promo shoot, got it?!” the director asks, and everyone confirms they’ll be there.

Taehyung stands up from the messy bed to put on his bathrobe while his former co-star, Rosie, covers herself in the sheets. ‘If you’re so fucking shy, why are you doing porn?’Taehyung thinks to himself, annoyed.

“You did really good, I enjoyed it. And, you’re an amazing actor. Not many stars are good at acting, but you are.” Rosie compliments sweetly and Taehyung feels bad for what he originally thought of her.

“Thanks,” is all he can say to her because (1) he can’t compliment her back because it would be a lie and there’s no need for that, (2) he’s not interested in talking to her, and (3) he’s ready to head back to his trailer and take a shower. “See you tomorrow,” he adds, because he doesn’t want to seem like one of those stuck-up pornstars he hates so badly.

He then leaves the rented airbnb home and takes the quick walk to his trailer with Jin right by his side. “What’d you think?” Taehyung asks.

Seokjin makes a face as he thinks of an answer. “It was…decent. Not your best.”

Tae scoffed, offended, “It wasn’t my porn, I’m only here to get her some clout. You think I enjoy wasting my time with newbies when I could be with a professional? Hell no!” his rant goes on as he approaches his white trailer, opening the door and holding it so Jin can walk in first (because he’s polite like that).

“Then why film with newbies when you hate it so much? Oh wait, because their team is willing to pay big money for the number one pornstar on ‘nexxxtdoor.com’. That’s why.” Seokjin stated once he entered the trailer and sat on the white couch, Taehyung following shortly behind.

Jin was right, Tae was the number one star on the number one porn site in the country. Maybe people were drawn to his blonde mullet that was usually accompanied by one of his many headbands, or maybe it was the floral tattoos decorated nicely across his neck that drove people crazy. But it was probably just the plain old fact that Taehyung was hot, had a pretty dick, and knew how to use it.

“You’re damn right about that,” Tae says, stripping himself of his bathrobe and little clothing. He doesn’t bother to lock to door of the trailer or even cover himself up in front of Seokjin; everyone had already seen him naked, all boundaries have burned down.

“God, I’m so hot,” Jin says suddenly, and Taehyung looks over to see his manager has moved to stand directly in front of the mirror above the couch, looking directly at his reflection. “Maybe I should start doing porn just to give you a run for your money.”

“Ha!” Taehyung laughs, walking to the standing shower and turning on the hot water. “As gorgeous as you are, I’m a pretty tough guy to beat. Aren’t those two guys still fighting for second place? What are their names?” Taehyung snaps his fingers as tried to remember the names of the two porn stars fighting for second place like a bunch of losers.

“Suga, and uh, that Jimin guy. But they actually dropped a few places…” Seokjin’s tone changed, he seemed nervous.

“Oh, yeah?” Tae asked, stepping into the hot shower, “Have people finally gotten bored of them?” He grabs the white bar of soap from its appropriate holder and begins to cleanse himself, starting off with his neck and shoulders.

“Not exactly, people still like them, there’s just this…uh…”

“Spit it out, Jin.” Taehyung demands, moving the bar of soap down to his chest and belly. Small, white bubbles form at the surface but are quickly washed away with the water pouring down from the shower head.

“There’s this new girl who’s going viral really quick; she’s number two.” Jin admits with a nervous cough.

“A girl,” Taehyung repeats, “I like girls. She must be pretty good if she’s growing so quickly.” It’s true; (Taehyung does indeed like girls) it took Tae two years to become number one on nexxxtdoor, so whoever was able to pass stars as good as Jimin and Suga in such a short amount of time had to be fucking amazing.

“She sure is…something. Her name is ‘Lucy Fer’; look her up when you get home. But, yeah, I’m off to go pick up your next script; see you later.” Jin leaved without another word, and Taehyung is still in the shower.

“Lucy Fer…” he repeats in a whisper, “Lucy Fer…”

Taehyung does as he’s told later that night and types in the name of his possible nemesis on nexxtdoor.com. He clicks the little arrow and the search results pop up in a matter of seconds; your channel popping up in full display.

LUCY FER ✓ @lucy_fer im basically a youtuber that taker her clothes off hehe </3 4.7M Subscribers | 192 Videos | Joined 1 Year Ago

Taehyung is confused by your biography, but decides he’ll find out what you mean after looking at some of your videos. And, just by the titles alone, he can see why so many people enjoy watching you:

FUCKING MYSELF WITH A DILDO WHILE I THINK ABOUT MY FUCKBOY EX :( 1,343,400 views

FAILED MATH CLASS BUT I STILL KNOW HOW TO SQRT **NOT CLICKBAIT** 3,473,621 views

ex bf fucks my face while frank ocean plays in my airpod$!!# (ft. namjoooooon) 2,372,084 views

After reading a few more titles of the videos you’ve uploaded, Taehyung has come to the conclusion that you’re the hottest fucking dumbass he’s ever seen and so desperately wants to fuck.

It’s weird for him to feel desperate for the girl literally coming for his career, especially when he hadn’t even seen you in action yet. And for that reason, he doesn’t like you. Does he think you’re hot? Yes. Does he want to fuck you? Of course. Does he dislike you? Actually, yes, but only becaus you’re

He sighed, straightening up in his desk chair as he kept his eyes on the illuminated screen in front of him. Curiosity got the best of him and soon enough, he was scrolling past all of your videos until he gets to your very first one:

GIRL GETS SUPER WET AFTER FEELING APPRECIATED 15,192,604 views

He notices that in every thumbnail, you’re wearing a pair of red devil horns and when you’re very rarely accompanied by someone else, they’re also wearing their own set of horns, identical to yours. Even in your display picture, it’s an up-close photo of you, your hair is down and it’s dripping wet, the devil horns are on full display, and your tongue is stuck out with a lit lighter dangerously close to it.

You’re the devil. Satan. Lucifer. Lucy Fer and oh, he finally understands your stage name.

He smiles lightly and shakes his head in realization. Taehyung’s about to close the laptop and call it a night - he has a long day tomorrow - but, he decides just watching oneof videos wouldn’t hurt. I mean, you are his competition, right? He has to see why you’re so popular.

Taehyung scrolls for a few seconds before clicking on a video titled “masturbating and crying about how broke i am (ft. namjoon aka my ex bf lol)“.

The video buffers quickly, taking Taehyung by surprise. For some reason he pauses it, grabs his laptop whole, and makes his way over to his king-sized bed. He tells himself it’s because he’s going to fall asleep afterwards, but he knows that he’s retreated to the bed for other reasons.

Once he’s in a comfortable position with the Macbook in front of him, Tae finally hits the triangle-shaped button and the video plays.

Your bed and pillows are the only thing in the frame at first, then you step in and sit on the edge of the bed. You’re wearing a red skater skirt that’s a tad bit short, a lacy, black bralette, and your signature devil horns.

You stare at the camera in silence for awhile and Taehyung wonders when you’re finally gonna get down to business. That’s when the camera suddenly zooms in on your face, on the single tear that comes from your left eye and makes its way down your cheek.

"Oh,” Tae says, shocked. He wasn’t actually expecting you to cry, though the title said you would.

The camera zooms from out of your face and goes back to the full body shot of you on the bed. “Why the fuck am I so broke?” you ask, there’s a smile on your face, but another tear slips from your eyes. Taehyung then decides for himself that you are a fucking maniac.

With the way the video is edited, Tae feels like he’s watching one of those popular YouTubers; like Emma Chamberlin or Antonia Garza. Your bio had described you perfectly: you truly were just a YouTuber who took her clothes off, and everyone (including Taehyung) loved it. It was a great idea on your part, since literally no one else made homemade porn the way you did.

With you, it felt so natural and relatable and not at all like the washed-up pornstars that came before you. Your viewers loved you, and they were so attached to you. Though you considered yourself to be just another lost, twenty-three year old, your viewers thought you were perfect because of how honest you are. Being so close to them, you didn’t even mind when they called you Y/N, your real name.

Even at times when you weren’t uploading videos or going live on nexxxtdoor, you held a PG-13 rated Instagram live that allowed you to speak to your supporters on a less intense platform.

You were thankful for them, and they were thankful for you.

In the screen in front of him, Taehyung watches and listens as you talk about your card getting declined at Starbucks as you unclasp your bra. You pull the black straps down slowly until they completely fall off your arms, your boobs spilling out nicely. Your nipples are hard because of how cold it is in your apartment, but you let the people watching think it’s because you’re horny.

Though only the top half of your body is bare, Taehyung still admires you. Many of the girls had had worked with had fake boobs or a fake ass for the most part, not that it was a bad thing, it was just nice to see something he wasn’t used to.

You’re complaining again, this time about how you received a parking ticket that morning and you have no clue how you’re gonna pay for it with the amount of student debt you’re in. With a sigh, you wipe away another pathetic tear before turning on all fours with your ass in view of the camera; the black thong underneath your skirt hardly hiding anything.

Your hand reaches under your pillow and pulls out a white vibrator. It looks dull and worn out, but no one really expecting you to have a top of the line one that costs $100.

“The police officer that gave me the ticket was pretty hot, though,” you say whilst getting into your original position on the bed. Taehyung then pauses the video, not because you’ve done anything wrong, but because he’s now realizing his hand had slipped past his pajama pants and he had began to palm himself through his boxers.

He can’t jerk off to the enemy, it’d only give you more power. But, he can follow the enemy on Instagram.

So he does exactly that.

lucy_fer is live…come watch!

The little banner pops up on Taehyung’s screen, staying for a few seconds before disappearing in his notifications tab. He considers the tempting invitation as he stares at the YouTube video that had been playing before being interrupted.

Sure, it was just an Instagram live and it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if he watched. But, what if you thought otherwise? What if you thought he was only watching just so he could scope out his competition?

“Screw it,” Tae mumbled before pulling down his notifications bar and clicking on the Instagram banner. It loaded within a few seconds and soon enough, Taehyung’s presence had been announced in the stream.

k.taehyung has joined.

But your face was turned elsewhere, talking to someone who was out of view of the camera. Secretly, Tae was hoping you’d turn back in time to acknowledge that fact that he was watching. And, much to his luck, you turned back towards the camera just as his was going away.

“Three hundred already?” you asked, watching the view count go up. “You guys must be bored.”

nam_joonie yep. why dont u take that shirt off and put on a show.

You read your ex-boyfriend’s comment with a sigh, leaning back on your couch as more comments from new viewers filled the screen. “You all know Namjoon,” you said to the viewers, grabbing the cup filled with water that stood on the coffee table next to your propped up phone. “I apologize that my ex is such a perv.” You took a sip of your drink as you roommate, Jennie, leaned into the frame to read a comment that caught her interest.

pinkszn.lisa girl fuck your ex, kim taehyung is here

Once Jennie read the comment out loud the water in your mouth was done for with the way you had begun to cough it up in shock.

You had heard of Taehyung, of course, and it was a surprise enough when he followed you on Instagram a few hours ago. He was intimating, to say the least, with his tattoos and blonde mullet and headbands and…wow. In fact, he was so intimidating, you hadn’t even watched any of his pornos. You knew he was good at his craft and didn’t need to watch any of his stuff to prove it.

When you were able to finally catch your breath, you turned to Jennie, shaking your head in shock. “Stop lying,” you choked out.

Seeing this as a second opportunity from hod himself to make his presence known, Taehyung typed out a comment.

k.taehyung hi hahaha

Rainbow hearts continued to fill up the screen as you read Tae’s comment whith wide eyes. He was actually here, watching you awkwardly get choked up over him.

“Taehyung!” you said suddenly, probably a little too excited. You cleared your throat as a way to calm down, “I…we…” nervously, you looked towards Jennie with a desperate facial expression that yelled ‘help me’.

“Why don’t you…guest him?” Jennie suggested.

“Oh, yes! Can I guest you, Taehyung?” You asked hopefully, though you already had requested for him to join before he could process what was going on. Sitting up on his couch, he looked down at the floor where his housemates Jungkook and Hoseok were sat in front of the television watching whatever sports game was on.

Of course Taehyung could afford to live alone, but these truly were his best friends.

“I’m about to go live. Try not to talk too much.” he said.

“That was a terrible pass,” Jeongguk said to Hoseok, clearly ignoring Taehyung’s request as he kept his eye on the basketball game. “I could pass better than that.”

Hoseok shakes his head, grabbing a few pieces of buttery popcorn that sat in the bowl on his lap. “You can’t even play basketball that good.”

“My point exactly! I could pass better than Williamson and I’m not even good at basketball; that’s tragic.”

With an eyeroll, Taehyung accepts the request to appear in your stream and gets himself in position with his phone camera, taking off his thick, clear glasses only momentarily to properly capture his face in the frame. Seconds later, the stream connect and he appears on the bottom half of the screen with you on top.

You open your mouth in shock once Taehyung is on screen then bring an arm to cover your eyes. “Woah, Taehyung! No shirt?!”

“Woah, Y/N, no bra?” he fired back, pointing out the obvious fact that your nipples were clearly hard under the thin, white shirt you wore. To anyone watching, they could easily mistake the two of you for lifelong friends with the way you were comfortable enough to joke around like this.

Or maybe it was just cheesy pornstar humor.

Slowly, you brought your forearm down from your eyes and got a good luck at Taehyung. He was indeed topless, flower tattoos on full display along with the gold chain that hung loosely around neck. He was a gorgeous sight, to say the least, and it’s no wonder why so many people enjoyed seeing him preform such filthy acts on his partners; never the same person twice, but always getting them to cum more than once.

You then realize this is your first time getting at good look at Tae’s face, other than the few Instagram photos you skimmed through when he followed you the day before. You also then realize you’d been staring at him in awkward silence since you brought your arm away.

You clear your throat, “touché. It’s nice to, like, see you for the first time.”

Taehyung raises a brow, had you never watched any of his stuff? He wants to ask, but also doesn’t want to seem cocky; it’s not like you were obligated to watch his pornos.

He decides to ask, the curiosity is killing him.

“I’m guessing that means you haven’t seen my stuff…” he says.

Now you’re embarrassed and wish you could go back in time and never make that comment about seeing him for thee first time. But you can’t, all you can do is shake your head and say, “I’m sorry, I don’t watch porn.”

“You’re the second most watched pornstar in the country and you don’t even watch porn?” he asks, confused.

You realize how stupid you sound and become embarrassed again. “Wait, no! Not like that, I mean. I watch my own stuff and I have some friends who do porn and I watch them…but that’s for support. I don’t get off to them or anything. Not because I can’t! I just…don’t want to…masturbate to my friends.”

It’s silent as Taehyung tries to take in what you said.

nam_joonie suddenly im not bored anymore

Although you and Namjoon have been broken up for quite some time now, he still knew when you were nervous about something, and that’s exactly what you were now.

You pretend you hadn’t seen Namjoon’s comment the same way to choose to ignore Jennie’s silent laughter fit. “I know who you are, though, Kim Taehyung,“ you nod as if you’re trying to reassure him while Jennie tries her best not to pass out from second-hand embarrassment.

Tae tilts his head up when he chuckles and you’re given an even better view of his neck and the tattoos that accompany it. If given the opportunity, any person would love to leave little purple bruises up and down his throat. But not you (you weren’t like other girls (and boys for that matter)), too afraid to mess with the beautiful artwork that Taehyung truly was.

And on top of that, everything about him was cute and sexy at the same and it nearly made your head explode. For example: the fact that he had neck tattoos was sexy, and the fact that they were flowers and butterflies made it cute. His blonde mullet was sexy, and the baby pink headband he usually wore underneath it was cute.

Then there was his smile. The smirk was sexy, but his boxy smile is what made your heart flutter. You were beyond nervous.

“I love your tattoos,” you compliment, “do you have anymore?”

“Mmhm!” he hums excitedly and it seems like the butterflies on his neck have made their way down to your belly. He holds his left hand up, showing off yet another butterfly tattoo – a blue one. “And I have one one each thigh of a bird.”

nam_joonie omg taehyung ur tattoos are so hot ugh the sexual tension between u two is killing me just fuck one of her holes already!!!

Namjoon isn’t the only one commenting, but it’s the only comment your eyes let you see. Taehyung sees it to and wonders if your ex boyfriend’s bitter jealousy would be a problem in whatever relationship he’s trying to form with you.

“Maybe I will,” Taehyung says with a smirk and no context at all, but everyone had seen Namjoon’s comment – made it hard to miss with it being so long. If you had water in your mouth, you’d be choking on it. And Jennie, who was off to your side, had her jaw slacked open at Tae’s straightforward and risky reply.

user1 we-

user2 TEA !

user3 and i oop-

…And more twitter slang flood the chat. You and Taehyung stay on live for another half hour, Namjoon doesn’t comment again so you assume he left after what Taehyung said. The rest of the broadcast goes well, consisting of you and Tae joking and talking and flirting with Jennie occasionally making fun of you or one of his roommates yelling about the basketball game.

It’s nice talking to Taehyung, it’s like he’s managed to become your friend in the short amount of time you’ve talked to him. When he listens to you speak, he pays attention and doesn’t interrupt you. And when you interrupt him when he’s speaking, he doesn’t mind because he likes seeing you get so excited. He’s literally the perfect boy.

So perfect that you want to keep talking to him forever, even when your eyelids get heavy and demand sleep. Jennie has already taken a shower and would be heading to bed soon, and any other day you’d be following her footsteps by getting ready to sleep.

“You’re tired,” Taehyung says when you yawn for the third time in a row.

You bring you index finger and thumb together, creating little space between them. “Just a tad bit.”

“Then sleep, don’t you have class in the morning?”

You nod, “I’m probably gonna drop out anyway, but yeah I do.”

"Then sleep,” he repeats so kindly it makes you want to close your eyes right there just to please him. He’s taken his glasses off now (making a show of it when he did so) and you’re able to look into his eyes better.

“I’ll go to bed if you do,” you challenge.

Taehyung isn’t sleepy, but he should be going to bed anyway so he’s not tired for tomorrow’s early shooting. “Yeah, I’m filming tomorrow, I need to go to bed.”

There’s something about Tae saying he has to film tomorrow that makes your heart drop. It’s like, in the short amount of time you’ve known him, you forgot he was the most watched pornstar and mistook him for an everyday boy who had a normal job and a normal life that could sustain a normal relationship. But you should know by now, nothing in your life is normal, and you and Taehyung had the same career in completely different aspects.

“Okay,” you sigh, “goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” he says before leaving the broadcast. He would’ve stayed on longer if his job wasn’t so demanding.

He waits a minute, and you’re finally done with your livestream. Then he waits, and waits, and waits until…

lucy_fer sent you a direct message.

It’s your phone number, along with a message.

lucy_fer / 1 min ago send nudes pls

Taehyung knows you’re joking, but considers sending a dick pic just to make you squirm. But he doesn’t, instead, he saves your number and sends a text of his own.

imessage today at 11:37 pm

no u

Withing the next few weeks, a friendship blossoms between you and Taehyung. You text everday now, and neither of you could be

You’ve uploaded more videos (to which Tae has jerked himself off to), and Taehyung has kept his title as number one and has starred in more films of his own (in which you was only to support because, again, you don’t watch porn).

It’s when he’s in his trailer with Seokjin getting ready to film another boring horny stepbrother when he get’s a text from you.

imessage today at 12:22 pm

i want to see u

in real life tho

like…i wanna meet u in real life

The last thing he texted you was a Jeongguk being stupid a few hours ago, so your lack of being able to respond quickly in this situation gave away the fact that this was something you had been thinking about a lot. He’s not too sure what to say in this sense. Yes, he’s your friend and wants to meet up with you, but what if something happens and changing the dynamic of your friendship? He cares for you the way a friend should (and probably a little more), and feels like you’re one of the few people who actually understand him. He definitely doesn’t want to lose you like Namjoon has.

He responds:

hmm, what prompted ur sudden interest in wanting to see me?

You’re quick to reply:

rmr a little while ago we talked about filming something together? u can come up here for a weekend, we could hang out and film something

taehyung:

so u only want me for my body?? i see how it is…

you:

oh quit it

so, what do u say? u can stay at my place

He tells you he’s going to think about it, but already knows he’s going to say yes. It’s all he can think about twenty minutes later when he’s fucking some redhead deep into the mattress. The sound of your girlish moans and gasps play so vividly in his mind, if he tries hard enough, he can pretend your sounds are coming from the girl’s mouth and you’rethe one he’s balls deep in.

And if he tries hard enough, he can pretend the little tuffs of the girl’s red hair that form against the pillow are your red devil horns.

And when he does try hard enough, he has to stop himself from cumming right then and there by distracting himself with other thoughts. He can’t think of you, of course – you’re the one who got him into this predicament in the first place.

Taehyung opens his eyes, trying his best to momentarily erase you from his mind. He looks down at the girl beneath him and is met with closed eyes and parted lips; her tongue was only slightly visible and was bit down on to stifle load moans.

The expression on her face is awkward, amateur almost, and Taehyung can’t stand it. He thrusts deeper, earning a high pitched moan from the girl and follows suit with a low groan.

He’s bored. Extremely bored. Then his mind drifts back to you, and he smiles because he’ll be seeing you in a few days. And for once, in a very long time, he’s excited for something. So excited that his boxy smile pays a visit and he has to bury his face in his co-star’s shoulder to cover it up.

Friday comes around rather quickly, and Taehyung finds himself halfway out of the front door with a duffel bag in his hand, saying goodbye to his roommates.

“No people, no parties, no dancing, no loud music, and Yeontan is the only animal allowed in this house. If I get a complaint from the neighbors, I swear–” Taehyung’s infamous exit speech is cut off by Jeongguk clasping a hand on his shoulder.

“Relax, hyung,” he says a little too calmly for Taehyung’s comfort, “nothing bad is gonna happen, don’t worry.”

The sound of tiny nails scraping against the wooden floor has made Tae forget what he was saying, only being able to focus on the beautiful dog running up to him.

He drops the bag, bending down to pet the fur and say goodbye to his faithful companion. “Please remember to take care of Yeontan; he’s very needy.”

“We will, I promise.” Hoseok says and Taehyung stands upright once again.

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” he adjusts the bag on his shoulder, “Gguk is the one that concerns me.”

Jeongguk scoffs, fake offended, “Me?! Why me?!”

“That time you went two days without food and didn’t even realize it.”

“That–I–it was for a gaming tournament! Plus, I drank Red Bull and that gave me all the energy i needed.” he tries to redeem himself, but it doesn’t work.

“Please just take care of my fucking dog,” is the last thing Taehyung says along with ‘goodbye’ before leaving his house.

The drive to your apartment is nearly two hours away, and Taehyung can hardly believe he’s going out of his way to hang out with a friend then have sex with her. It’s ridiculous yet so exciting. So…new.

You’re outside your apartment building when Taehyung arrives, heart beating out of both of your chest. He doesn’t leave the car, since the two of you agreed you’d go out in the city before coming back to your place, but you can already see he’s a lot taller in person. And a lot hotter, if that was possible.

You jog up to his Range Rover, the best looking car in the parking lot, and slide into his passenger seat. Before Taehyung is able to get a word in, you’ve already engulfed him into a tight hug. He’s thrown off his game by your sudden forwardness, but he doesn’t let it phase him. Instead, his arms find comfort around your waist, embarrassing you so tight and completely as if you’d melt away if he let go.

Then, you’re pushing him off of you, as if nothing happened.

“I can’t believe I’m here, with you, in your car. I bet so many of your fans would die to be in this position,” you run your fingers through your hair as a method to calm your nerves.

“And many other positions…” he jokes with a small smirk, handing you his phone so you can put in the address to the place you’re having lunch at.

“Touché,” you reply, and minutes later you’re on your way to a whole-in-the-wall cute, little restaurant. It’s mostly empty, so neither of you are recognized.

Taehyung picks a little table in the far corner by the window; just enough room for the both of you. He pulls out your chair, because he’s polite like that, before setting down your tray of food on the table and sitting down on his own seat.

“It’s raining,” you whisper, chin in the palm of your hand as you stare out the window.

Taehyung had started to place your food in front of you, but stops when he hears you speak. He looks up at you, and the only word he can use to describe you in this exact moment is ‘pretty’. Pretty, pretty, pretty.

He gulps, glancing out the window to see it had indeed began to rain. “Yeah,” is all he can say, because there’s not much you can say when you’re being taunted.

The sky is teasing him, as though it was saying, “ha ha, I can cry and you can’t”, because Tae is so at peace being here with you, he could actually cry. He’s happy for once, and wishes he didn’t have to hide it.

“It’ll be dark by the time the movie’s over,” Taehyung says while handing you your sandwich, “are we going straight to your place afterwards?”

“We can, I mean, it’s Friday and you don’t leave until Monday morning; we have the whole weekend to explore.”

Tae nods out of excitement but doesn’t show it. He’s been looking forward to filming with you and is happy you’re ready to do so as soon as possible. Now, he’ll just have to find a way to stop thinking or talking about it.

“So about the video we’re making today,” he takes a sip out of his lemonade.

“Oh yeah, I was gonna have my manager email yours to sort out some details, then I remembered I don’t have a manager–”

“Wait,” Tae raises a hand to silence you, “you don’t have a manager? Why not?”

Embarrassed, you slump back in your seat and shrug. “I dunno, I felt like I didn’t need one until now, honestly. All of my videos are filmed and edited by me and on the rare occasion I have someone to film with, they’re people I know personally; not big time…pornstars.” you whisper the last part because although the restaurant is mostly empty, you’re still in public.

“I’m literally just a YouTuber that takes her clothes off,” you continue.

“Even YouTuber’s have managers, don’t they?” he points out.

Before you can respond, your phone starts to vibrate on the table. “It’s Jennie,” you say, “do you mind if I…?” you hold your phone up with pleading eyes, claiming the call could be important. Taehyung says it’s fine and takes a bite out of his own sandwich while you accept the call.

“Yeah?…Oh, okay!…Can you tidy up before you go?…I know, but still…Great, have fun…Oh, shut up…Thank you, I love you…Alright bye,” Is all Taehyung hears from your forty-second conversation before setting your phone back down.

“That was my roommate, she just left for the weekend, so me and you have the apartment to ourselves.”

“You have a roommate?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah, Jennie.”

“Does she know you do porn?”

“Mmhm, she was in my video before. I think I titled it: Pussy Is God.”

“Knowing you, you probably replaced the S’s with dollar signs.”

You smile, “You know me pretty well, don’t you?”

And he does know you pretty well. Just like he knows when the two of you are exiting the restaurant, you make sweater paws with your hands because you’re cold. So he holds your hand and let’s your fingers intertwine the entire walk to his car and tells himself it’s just platonic hand holding.

And when you’re in the theater watching Endgame, he feels your body tremble as you watch Iron Man take his final breath. You don’t cry, but Taehyung let’s the tear he was holding in fall from his eye. He doesn’t think you saw it, but you do, and later on he let’s you assume it’s the movie that made him cry. But really, it was you.

You had brought Kim Taehyung to tears.

Because when he’s with you, he isn’t thinking about his job or stress, or anything. Your presence had captured him and tricked him into thinking he, being the person he is, could handle being in a relationship; a serious one at that.

And that’s exactly what he was afraid of.

“Just admit it, you big baby. We basically went on a date.” You say hours later as you lead Taehyung into your apartment.

“Oh, you think so?” Taehyung asks as you flick on the light switch.

“Well, we had lunch, held hands, saw a movie, and we’re about to have sex so…yeah, I think it’s safe to say we went on a date.”

Upon entering your apartment, Taehyung notes it’s as small as you said it would be, but didn’t expect for there to be so many new, expensive appliances. Seriously, your fridge, flat screen television, and microwave all look so out of place in your crappy apartment. He assumes your porn money as started rolling in, but doesn’t ask.

“You wanna film now?” Taehyung asks, slipping off his shoes when you notices you doing the same.

“Why wait?” You ask with a devilish smirk, “I’m gonna change, but please, make yourself at home.”

You’re in your room getting dressed in your usual skirt, bra, and devil horns (and even a little bit of makeup because…fuck it) while Taehyung takes time to prepare himself with a mini prep talk while he waits.

“I’m ready if you are,” you call from your doorframe. Taehyung’s dick already feels like it’s stirring in his pants, so he tries his best not to look at you when he enters your room and sits on the edge of your bed, directly in front of your only camera.

“Are you ready?” you ask, a finger on the ‘record’ button.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he replies.

You press record and sit down next to him.

“It’d be so funny if I just put in, like, clips of our first livestream together when you said you would fuck one of my holes,” you laugh, and Taehyung is amazed at how comfortable you became in a matter of seconds. You truly were a natural at this, and it put him at ease.

“Please don’t do that,” he replies, shaking his head.

“Im gonna do it, but, anyway…! I’m here with Kim Taehyung! And I have a gift for him!” You lean over to your bedside drawer to retrieve your gift for him, Tae lets out a desperate sigh when he gets a clear view of your ass.

“Usually, I have my co-star for the evening wear complimentary devil horns, right? But, for you, I went out and got you your own pair. They don’t look much different than mine or any other pair, but these are special…because they’re yours.” you pull the headband from behind your back and gently place it in his hands and watch as he stares at them for a moment.

Although they’re the same style of the ones of the ones usually featured in your videos, they’re different in some way. Newer. Cleaner. His to keep.

He stares at them in silence, making you nervous by the second, and you make a mental note to edit awkward Wii music in at this part. “..so do you like it, or…?”

Instead of responding, he moves his tattooed-hand up to his hair and removes his baby blue headband in a swift motion; replacing it with his new gifts. Out of his duffel bag, he pulls out a light pink supreme headband (similar to his infamous one) and gives it to you, claiming he also brought you a gift.

And for the sake of the porno (and because you like him so much without realization), you take off your devil horns and replace them with the headband he’s given you.

When Taehyung stares at you, he feels like his looking at his heart in human form. He can’t look away and sure as hell doesn’t want to. But, he’s not in love. He’s in lust and in like and all the things that come with having a crush because Jesus Christ he has the biggest, fattest crush on you, Y/N.

“Do I look like you?” you ask.

“Nope, you look way better,” he compliments.

You wave your hand in a motion that says, ‘as if’. He isn’t used to working without a script, but is too shy to ask how you plan on getting things started. And, like you read his mind, you instruct him to lay back on the bed, and he does so.

"What, are you gonna top me?” Taehyung asks with a cocky smile and a raised brow, elbows holding himself up as he watches you crawl over him until your faces are centimeters apart.

“You’d make such a cute, little bottom,” your lips brush against his with every word you speak, and yet, you’re still not kissing. “But no, just relax.” You might as well had been speaking a foreign language Taehyung had no knowledge of because he had no clue what you were saying; too distract by the fact that your lips were literally on his and you weren’t even kissing, though you both so badly want to.

“Kiss me, pussy,” is what you want to say to him, but you don’t. Your lips place delicate kisses down his neck, so soft and subtly and almost nonexistent, not wanting to cover up his tattoos with hickeys.

Your hands make their way down to his jeans until you’re undoing his belt and sliding it off with ease. With his elbows hosting himself up again, Taehyung watches you pull his jeans down all the way to his ankles until they’ve met the same fate as his Gucci belt. When you hook a finger on the waistband of his boxers, he stops you with a question.

“What’re you doing?” he slurs, and regrets asking such a dumb question because he already knows damn well what you’re gonna do.

“Gonna suck you off; is that okay?”

It’s more than okay, honestly. It’s just, Taehyung is a giver. His fans pay to watch him give and give and give until they’re watching his cum drip out of someone’s swollen cunt; he definitely wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of sex and couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gotten a proper blowjob.

He doesn’t respond verbally, only giving a light nod and running his tongue across his top lip.

Getting the answer you were hoping for, you tug off Taehyung’s boxers with a single finger, his cock springing free and laying flat against his abdomen. Precum leaks from his reddening tip and you can’t help but gasp at the euphoric sight. Taehyung smiles in delight when the soft noise leaves your mouth, and suddenly, he’d confident again.

Your hand makes it’s way to grab a hold of Tae’s cock, using the pad of your thumb to smear the seeping precum along his tip. He let’s out a moan of pleasure, already obsessed with the feeling of your small hand wrapped around his ever-hardening member.

Starting off with slow strokes, you lower your head until you’re inches away from his dick. You’re not even doing much, yet Taehyung feels like he could cum right now just by the way you’re looking at him; so dark and lustful and sinful, like the she-devil you truly were.

Without warning, your tongue presses itself alongside Tae’s tip, peppering the sides with small kitten licks. “Shit,” he mutters, eyes tightly shut. If he thought your hands were good, your tongue nearly sent him into overdrive.

The little kitten lick only last for a few seconds longer, and then your mouth is completely around him. He’s big around you, and it’ll take a bit of work if you plan on getting him to the back of your throat.

You pull your mouth away from with a pop, your free hand stroking off parts of him your mouth couldn’t reach quite yet. He’s still propped up on his elbows, watching as you get him off.

Your mouth is wrapped around him once again, and soon enough, his eyes are back to being shut as he takes in the warm feeling of your mouth. Taehyung fights the urge to buck his hips once you’re finally able to allow him deeper in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you fight off your gag reflex.

He even fights thee urge once you’ve gotten used to the feeling and began to slowly bob your head. He grabs a fistful of your hair tightly, earning a pleasing groan from you that vibrates around his dick. Pulling only a slight bit harder on your hair gets another reaction out of you, this time causing your left hand to work your way down into your panties.

The sight alone makes Taehyung want to replace your fingers with his own; watching his tattooed-hand disappearing into your underwear until his fingers are circling around your clit, slipping his fingers between your slick folds until they’re completely covered. He’d bring his fingers up to your mouth and whisper “taste yourself, baby, taste how wet you are for me,” then his fingers would be in your mouth, licking your juices clean. And he’d bring his hand back down to your cunt, calling you his good girl while we thrusts his fingers in and out of you.

But that can’t happen, at least not tonight while you were recording and, oh fuck…he was so caught up, Taehyung forgot this whole thing was being filmed.

“Shit, fuck, stop it,” he instructs, knowing he’d release right then and there if you kept this up.

“Something wrong?” you ask, your big doe eyes peering up at him with your mouth glistening with his precum. You looked so innocent yet so sinful and it drove Taehyung so crazy.

He’s taking his shit off, leaving him completely naked and you follow suit. “I shouldn’t be selfish,” he says when you’re leaning over him, hardening nipples brushing against his own chest. “You need to get off too, right?”

You grin with a nod before finally kissing him. It’s not a cute, first kiss you’d imagined it being, but it was something. Sloppy, messy, and horny.

When he tries to lift you up to lay you on your back, you stop him by pulling away from his lips and harshly grabbing his shoulder blade. “I’m going to top.”

Taehyung chuckles because he thinks your joking, and when he realizes you’re being serious, he shakes his head. “Absolutely not,” his dominant side had slowly began to show.

“That’s what you think,” you say, and reach down to grab his cock. He decides there’s no point in fighting you on this since your mind is made up and admits defeat by replacing your hand with his and rubbing his tip against your folds.

Your grip onto his shoulders to steady yourself, eyes closed while you let him tease your entrance. His tip lazily brushes circles on your cunt, and you can’t help but a let out a high-pitched whine when he’s finally inside of you.

His thrusts are slow at first, giving you time to stretch out around him. “Okay,” you sigh, once you’re finally ready for harder, deeper thrusts.

“You wanted to top so badly,” he says, “you do all the work.”

You let out a laugh but deiced it’s fair, so you rock your hips against his, grabbing his thighs to hold onto in the process. You’ve just started, but the feeling of Taehyung finally inside of you after all these weeks already has the both of you moaning, thankful your roommate was out of town.

Your head is thrown back now as you keep the steady pace, hair sticking to the sweat on your back while Tae keeps a firm grip on your waist. His eyes are still closed in fear of releasing right then and there if he opened his eyes to see the sight of you on top of him.

“Taehyung…I–I–” you’re barely able to talk, so close to your climax you can hardly get a word out.

“You wanna come?” he asks, fingers moving down to massage your clit, adding all the more reason for you to orgasm.

“Please,” you whine, although it’s not like Taehyung has told you to ask for permission to come, this is just you in your natural state. And he loves it.

“Then come,” he says, and your orgasm rips through you, the type that has your eyes rolling back and body shaking. Tae can’t help but do the same moments later, the feeling of your cum dripping around him a little too much to handle. The inside of your walls are splattered white, but you don’t mind much; at least you’re on the pill.

The two of you pant as you come down from your highs, both exhausted at this point. And you, being yourself, reach down to give Taehyung a high-five, to which he accepts with a laugh.

“That was fun,” you say, just now rising off of him and trying your best not to groan at the feeling of emptiness.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “you’re good at your job.”

You accept and return the compliment before turning off the camera and excusing yourself in the bathroom.

Alone with his thoughts, Taehyung flops backwards on your bed and recall what has just happened. He’s scared, he feels like you’ve trapped him in your heart, like a caged animal. He knows he shouldn’t have feelings for him, but he can’t help himself; you were absolutely perfect in his eyes.

When you enter the room again and lay down next to him, he thinks about how little he cares about anything other than you. He doesn’t care if his career doesn’t allow it, what his friends will say, or what his fans will say. He only wants you.

“Y/N?” he calls softly, turning his head to look at you.

“Yes?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

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