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jj-one · 1 month

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HATE YOU

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: enemies to lovers ? (sorta one-sided tho), college au, fuckboy!jungkook x f!reader genre/tags: smut, angst, alcohol usage, dirty talk, lowkey perverted!jk, fingering, piv, unprotected sex (oof), drunk sex, public sex (reader & jk do it at a house party), riding, video recording **pls don’t do none of this irl LMAO words: 2.7k

**old repost from my deleted blog

Hate is a strong word— at least that’s what people try and say. You meant it though, it was a word you didn’t use lightly. Especially when it came to your opinion on 99% of the male population at your school. You couldn’t stand most of them, they all just wanted one thing. Getting into your pants.

You despised hook-up culture with a passion and it didn’t help that most guys who tried talking to you were all the same. You had a special hatred for a particular individual the most though— Jeon Jungkook from your physics class. He was the most arrogant, conceited, egotistical person you’ve ever met your whole life.

Every class he would have a different girl with him wrapped around his arm, walking him to the door like he’s some kind of royalty. The way almost every girl would swoon over him just because he’s good looking was baffling to you. Yeah he may have a pretty face but does that cancel everything else out? Of course not. You’ll never understand why these women would choose to go after someone like him, you felt embarrassed for them honestly.

“Jungkook, meet me after class I’ll be waiting for you!” Some girl shouted through the door to get his attention.

He was sitting two seats from you, looking at his phone while paying no mind to the obvious screaming being directed to him. He was so full of himself it was ridiculous.

“Hey y/n, what’re you doing tonight?”

That voice startled the hell out of you. Who gave Jungkook the right to even be speaking to you right now? Looking over in his direction, you give him an empty stare.

“Why do you care?” You said harshly.

It makes no sense why he would even try talking to you, you’ve never given him any indication you liked him.

“Sheesh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” he chuckles, “you should pull up to my party tonight!” You wanted to almost physically gag at the wink he just gave you.

“I’m good.” You shut him down quickly and try moving on but he doesn’t let you off that easy.

“You sure? The whole schools practically gonna be there, you don’t wanna miss out on all the fun do ya?” That annoying smirk on his face was really starting to irritate you.

“I said I’m good, I’d never show up to one of your dumb ass parties.”

“I think you got me mixed up with someone else, my parties are always lit. If you have a change of heart though, I’ll make sure to show you a real good time.”

You scoff, utterly disgusted by his last comment, just about everything he said had sexual undertones to them. His humor was weird and extremely perverted which heavily pissed you off. You couldn’t wait for this class to be over.

“We’re almost here!” Yuna exclaims in the passenger seat.

You were in the back with two of your other friends as you were headed to a party. You weren’t totally up for partying tonight but ultimately your friends were able to convince you to go. You don’t even know where the party is but maybe it’s good to get your mind off things.

“Oh, by the way who’s party is this?” You ask suddenly as Lisa pulls into a driveway.

The car got silent for a second, no one answered your question. It was a bit odd to you the way they all froze up.

“Actually… it’s Jungkook’s party…” Lisa finally spoke, her eyes kept trailing away from you.

“What the fuck? Of all places you choose to go you pick him?!” You felt so betrayed.

They really drove you all the way here just to trick you into coming and now you have no escape plan. They all begged and pleaded for you to suck it up and let loose for just one night. You finally agreed but only under the condition that you want to be far away from him as possible.

“Why do you even dislike him so much? You would think he had murdered someone or something!” Your friend asks.

“I just think he’s a pretentious asshole that doesn’t deserve all the hype he gets.”

They just shrug your opinion off and get out the car. You huff as you open the door and head to the party with the rest of them.

You instantly felt claustrophobic once you go inside. There were crowds of people everywhere. Jungkook was right, everyone at the school was practically here. Loud rap music was blaring through the speakers, red solo cups scattered the floor, people getting sloppy drunk or stoned; the perfect stereotypical house party.

You haven’t seen him yet so that was a good sign and you go up to the kitchen to get drinks with Lisa. 20 minutes pass by now and Lisa was left out of your sight. You have no idea where she could’ve run off to and now you have to search the place to find your friends.

Heading outside into the backyard, your balance was becoming unstable from the alcohol in your system. You were taking shots of Hennessy back to back and it caught up to you faster than you could blink. You sat down on one of the lawn chairs since your head was starting to feel really heavy. You felt a sudden tap behind your shoulder and hear a voice that even when you’re drunk, you can sense with disdain.

“Well, well, well if it isn’t little miss ‘i’d never show up to one of your dumb ass parties!’” Jungkook teases while coming from behind you.

“Get the hell away from me!” You lean away from him to leave you alone but he only came closer.

“This is my house so I don’t need to go anywhere, if anything I think I should kick you out for being so mean to me.” His face inched towards yours further, putting you in an uncomfortable position.

You don’t know why your body felt paralyzed though, it was probably just from all the alcohol inebriating your mind.

“You know, I never understood why you actually hate me. I never hurt you did I?” He says, slightly cocking his head to the side.

His tattooed hand landed on your knee, just planting it there while keeping strong eye contact. You couldn’t speak for some reason, it was as if an enormous lump has formed and got caught inside your throat. He looks down at the skirt you’re wearing and bites his lip, playing with his lip ring.

“Why aren’t you talking? You usually have a lot to say to me, why so quiet now sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?” He continues speaking in that condescending tone of his and you’ve had enough now.

“I fucking hate your guts Jungkook, I absolutely despise you. You’re a cocky, perverted fuckboy that needs to be humbled and finally put in your place!” You snap back at him while pushing his hand away.

“Woah girl chill out, that was a bit harsh don’t ya think? Also, I’d love for you to put me in my place any day.” Yet again, he never fails to make a sexually charged comment.

“You’re disgusting, seriously get help!” You attempt to get up from the lawn chair but he pushes you back down.

“You know, I’ve always liked my girls a little feisty. I find it hot when girls yell at me.”

Either this man has a humiliation kink or is just plain stupid— either way you don’t want to be anywhere near him but he wouldn’t let you leave.

“Please just go away Jungkook, I don’t want you in my sight anymore.”

“Really? Because if that were true then you would’ve been left already,” his hand went to stroke the side of your hair “seems like you really don’t want me to leave.”

His other hand went back to your knee again but slowly trails up to your thigh and goes under your skirt this time. You were surprised within yourself that you were even letting this happen. He leans in to your face, being just a few inches away from his lips. You became almost in a trance by those pink, pillowy lips. You don’t know what came over you but you grab his face and messily kiss him. The movement of your lips colliding and syncing together as he deepened the kiss. He sensually touches your thigh while you moan into the kiss and he squeezes your thigh tightly in response. Looking around to see all the people still here when you pull away from him; you can’t fathom you just made out with Jungkook in front of all these goddamn people. You just lost all respect for yourself.

“You know I’ve always secretly had a crush on you y/n?” Jungkook admits, “I kinda like it when girls are mean to me. Or maybe I just like it when you’re mean, I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Let me show you how mean I can get then.” You reply, staring up at him with hungry eyes.

That cheesy grin never leaving his face as he hears you speak. The tension only grew thicker and he wasn’t about to waste another second.

“Sit on my lap.” He uses his hands to maneuver you and leans back in the chair.

You drunkenly stumble on top of him, feeling him against you. Your body heat raised through the roof but this time you were sure it wasn’t because of the liquor. You straddle his lap as you go back to hastily making out. His wandering hands kept slipping down to your ass to squeeze it and you were starting to feel dizzy from the way he was kissing you. You feel his touch under your skirt to play with you some more, not caring if anyone’s looking at this point.

“I don’t think we should be doing this.. not here at least. Too many people.” You say when pulling away from his lips.

“I really don’t give a fuck, it’s my party let them watch. Let’s put on a good show for everyone, yeah?”

You know this goes beyond against every moral you’ve had before. You’re about to do the one thing you told yourself that you’d never do.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Agreeing to go along with his narrative.

He lets you in charge now, letting you have full control over the way you get to ride him. You push your panties to the side and he undoes his pants to free his fully hard member. You didn’t realize how much of a nice cock he has, it was well groomed and had the perfect size/width.

“You have a really pretty dick, must I say.” You still can’t believe these words are being said to Jungkook.

“Thanks baby, I can’t wait for it to be in that pretty little pussy of yours.”

He drags two of his fingers down to your core and swipes in a circular motion, smearing the wet slick as he watches your mouth open wide with pleasure. His digits sink into your cunt harshly, pushing them deeper and deeper.

“Fuck! Your fingers feel too good…” you hid your face in his shoulder as he splits you open.

Your eyes hung low and your mind was hazy. Unable to think straight, you just wanted to feel Jungkook inside of you already.

“Need to fuck you nowww!” You yell, almost sounding a bit whiny.

“So do it then cutie. Come fuck yourself on my cock.”

He withdraws his digits out of you and licks the juices off them one by one. His grin would only get wider as you lowered yourself on his cock. You were so soaking wet you sunk down on him easily while resting your hands around his shoulders to brace yourself a bit before moving. Once you regain focus you slide up and down on his shaft nice and slow; making him bite his lip, moan, and curse under his breath.

“Your pussy feels so good… so tight… fuck..” his mind was going blank as you pick up a steady pace.

You were so out of it by now that you were bouncing on his cock in a frenzy. He roughly thrusted his hips back into you while you sloppily rode him. The way he filled you up felt like you were in heaven. You open your eyes for a second, forgetting that you were at a party. Almost everyone was looking at you, some people even took out their phones to record the scene in front of them. It was probably all the alcohol you drank but you didn’t even care anymore, you continued savagely riding him. You’re moaning louder as you slam down into him harder, pulling his body closer to yours. He loudly grunts from your walls aching around him, his cock was throbbing so intensely he felt himself wanting to burst already.

People were beyond shocked to see this happening, it was a wild party but they weren’t expecting all this. You try not to pay attention to everyone and focus on Jungkook so you can make yourself cum. Then out of nowhere, he spontaneously lifts you up while you’re still on his cock. Engulfing those large hands on your ass cheeks to keep you balanced and thrusts into you deep while he’s standing up. You had your arms wrapped tightly around him, you weren’t too scared of falling since he had a strong grip on you. You were taking his cock with each harsh stroke he gave, screaming out his name over and over so the whole party could hear it.

“Fuck yes Jungkook! Keep fucking me just like that, you’re so good!!” You could feel yourself coming close and so does Jungkook. Wet strands of sticky hair cling to his face from all the work he’s putting in, his eyebrows furrowed to concentrate solely on making you cum.

“Gonna cum on this cock for me baby? I feel you getter tighter ‘round me.”

“Yess, wanna cum on your cock so bad please!”

He was hitting all the spots in you just right, the slight curve of his shaft fit so perfectly in your core. Your mouth was back to being jaw locked again, feeling the heat wave of your orgasm coming through. It hit even harder when you were drunk, you felt like you were going to fall out of his arms but he noticed you slipping and pulls you up into a firmer grasp. While shutting your eyes you feel your release take over, cursing and moaning his name repeatedly like a broken record.

“I’m ‘bout to cum ….” He pulls out of you and sets you back on the lawn chair, “look up and open wide for me.”

You open your mouth eagerly for him, he gives his cock a few pumps before releasing his white creamy load into your mouth. You swallow every drop of his cum and stick your tongue out for him to show your empty mouth. He smiles at the pretty sight of you and goes in to kiss you once again.

“This is fucking insane!” One of the random people at the party says.

You recognize the person since they’ve been watching you from the start. To say that you and Jungkook left everyone at that party speechless was an understatement.

“You know people were taking videos of us right?” Jungkook says cautiously.

“Yeah… it’s probably going to end up all over social media now, if it hasn’t already. Oh well, like I care!” You shrug nonchalantly.

Oh you’ll definitely care when you sober up.

“Let’s get outta here?” Jungkook zips his pants back up and takes his hand out for you to grab.

You hold onto him and balance your wobbly legs to stand up. You were both severely drunk but he held his liquor way better than you did. For the rest of the night, the party continued and you ended up finding your friends. They soon found out about you were doing and how you fucked Jungkook in front of everyone there, they were all completely taken aback. You went from hating his guts to him destroying yours— guess that’s one way you can end a burning hatred for someone.

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook drabbles #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine

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charliemwrites · 3 months

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Sooooo I learned a valuable lesson last night. Which is not to draft things in tumblr. Because I wrote almost all of this in drafts, was like 15 minutes from posting. And then the app glitched when I changed the song I was listening to and lost everything.

I’m not entirely sure I wrote this version half as well as the original, which is maddening. But please enjoy this next part to the Mister(s) Steal Your Girl (poly 141) series.

Content: Safe/Sane/Consensual Intimacy

You honestly didn’t expect to speak to Kyle again after the bookshop encounter. Sure, you exchanged numbers and he seemed so sincere, but your faith in reading people has been a bit shaken as of late.

That said, you wouldn’t have held it against him if you didn’t. You’d had a wonderful time meeting someone new, even if just for a moment. He seemed like a busy man in a high-stress job, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he looked at your open-relationship-with-a-fiance situation and decided it was too much drama.

But the very next day after meeting him, he sends you a text. Repeating that he had a great time and asking if you’ve already started any of the books you bought.

You try (and probably fail) not to giggle like a schoolgirl every time he texts you. He’s as sweet through the phone as he was in person. Throughout the week, he checks on you (more messages than you’ve gotten from your fiance in a month) asking after your days and nights and generally chatting.

On Thursday at lunch, you ask if he’d like to meet up again, heart clenching anxiously. Nearly throw your phone across the break room when his name pops up as an incoming call.

When you answer, he doesn’t even waste time on a greeting.

“I’d like to take you on a date, luv,” he specifies, voice silky and amused in your ear.

Date one is a nice dinner. He shows up at the door with flowers. You have to take a second to blink away the mist in your eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” you hurry to say, summoning a smile. “Just no one’s ever bought me flowers. Thank you, they’re wonderful.”

And then you realize that probably sounds pathetic and quickly turn away to deposit them in a vase. (Miss the baffled and almost offended frown on Kyle’s face as that processes.)

At dinner, the two of you toast by tapping your appetizers together. He feeds you bites of his meal from his own fork, and you let him try your wine, giggling at the faces he makes.

The night ends (after dessert, a walk in the park, and a nightcap at a quiet bar) at your front door. Kyle fits a big, warm hand on your waist, pulls you in… and drops a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You try not to let your disappointment show, but he must catch it because he chuckles and gently nudges your face back into position. Graces you with another kiss at the corner of your mouth.

“I want to, darling,” he admits, so close you’re sharing air. “Trust me, I want to. But I need you to know I’m doing this for the right reasons too.”

Touched and a little choked up, you hug him tight, cheek pressed to his chest. His breath stutters. And then his strong arms are curling around you, tucking you in, his whole body becoming a warm haven.

“Can we… can we do this again?” you ask hopefully.

“Darling, I’d take you out tomorrow if you’d let me.”

Date two is bowling, which you find Kyle is actually terrible at, despite being a sniper. You laugh and joke through three games, trouncing him each time. He doesn’t seem to mind losing in the slightest, and even takes you out for a victory ice cream afterwards. You hold hands while you lick at the cone.

Date three, you invite him to a wine and paint night. He seems willing, though unsure. By the end, though, the two of you are giggling and tipsy, paint on your hands and faces. He kisses you against the passenger door of his car, lips soft and gentle. Moans when the tip of his tongue skims your bottom lip.

On date four, you sing to the radio in the car. Blush when you catch him sneaking glances at you, but also notice that he goes around the same block twice. Tease that you’re going to be late if he keeps stalling.

At the end of the night, he sweeps you in close on the dance floor.

“Come home with me?” he asks in your ear.

Your heart stumbles as you nod, cheeks hot.

He barely gets you in the door before pressing you back against it. Fingers in your hair, body one firm line pressed flush to yours. Kissing earnest but not rough, flicking at your bottom lip until you open for him with a soft sigh. He tastes like heaven, like the drinks you shared before this. Your fingers curl into his Henley, tugging him closer, arching your back.

The desire he’s been steadily building in your gut bursts into an inferno. You’re burning all over, can barely breathe. Dizzy with his cologne.

You break the kiss with a squeak when he scoops up beneath the thighs.

“I-I’m too heavy!” you gasp, clinging tight.

“Like hell you are,” he scoffs. “Come back here, I’m not done kissing you.”

You hesitate, taking stock. But he doesn’t feel like he’s straining; didn’t even make that mortifying grunt noise. Feel secure enough to lean back just a bit to check his expression.

There’s not an ounce of effort there. Just liquid dark eyes focused on your swollen lips, tilting his chin to coax you back. You go with a little thrill in your stomach, messier this time, teeth scraping.

He bumps you against the wall on his way to the bedroom. It doesn’t hurt but it makes you laugh against his cheek.

“Love your laugh,” he murmurs into your neck. “Could listen to it all day.”

Somehow that makes you flush more than the hard bulge pressing against your ass. So you shove your tongue in his mouth again to shut him up, breathless at his tongue curling against yours.

You squeal when he drops you on the bed with a little bounce, a brilliant, cheeky smile your reward. Then he tugs his shirt off and your mind goes utterly blank.

He’s a monument of strength and discipline, power in every plane of hard-earned muscle. There are glossy scars peppering his skin, and you’re fascinated as much as you are sad for his pain. He looks like a young god. You’ve seen marble statues half as beautiful as him.

“You’re bloody gorgeous,” you whisper, crawling to the edge of the bed.

He shivers and leans into your palms as they explore up his toned stomach, across the defined lines of his chest and shoulders, down his arms. Leave open-mouthed kisses against long-healed wounds and patches of smooth skin alike, appreciating every part of him.

He uses your interlocked fingers to draw you away, bending to meet you halfway. Speckles kisses over your cheeks and jaw, down to a tender spot beneath your ear that makes you hum. You could melt into him and just float.

He pauses there, breathes you in. “Can I take this off?” he asks, plucking at your shirt. You hesitate, just for a beat — but it’s enough to have Kyle pulling back a little.

“We can stop here,” he offers. “Or we can just keep doing this. Whatever you want, luv, I’m not fussed.”

You duck your head, but he doesn’t let you escape for long, gently guiding your gaze up by the chin.

“Talk to me?” he asks.

“I-I want to keep going,” you say, “I’m just… and you’re so…”

He shakes his head, kisses you quiet. “I’m not anything but a man that wants to make his girl happy. In whatever way she’s okay with, yeah?”

You have to blink away another sting of inopportune tears. Then reach for your shirt and pull it off yourself.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, eyes going big.

You flush as he nudges you back, spread out amongst the neat sheets and pillows. His eyes trace every inch of you over and over, hands quick to follow. The contrast of his rough palms on your skin makes you squirm and sigh. He touches you like you’re something special, like he wants to savor you.

He nibbles kisses into your collarbones, lavishes your breasts with tongue and gentle teeth. Works his way down your stomach and stops again.

“Can I take the rest off?” he asks.

You don’t hesitate this time, shifting to give him access to the zipper. His hands fumble a bit when he notices the embarrassing wet patch on your underwear, thumbing at your slit through the fabric.

“Please let me eat you out,” he breathes.

You press your thighs together, nervous. “Y-you don’t have to…”

“I want to, luv,” he answers, eyes barely flickering away. “Fuck do I want to.”

Words desert you, so all you can manage is a jerky nod. For the first time, his patience seems to fray as he tugs your underwear off. Barely gets them down to one ankle before diving between your legs.

He laces sweet kisses along your thighs and hips, slowing as he gets closer and closer to where you want him most. His tongue dips into your slit, just skims your throbbing and sensitive clit. You moan softly. The next swipe of his tongue is bolder, curling at your soaked entrance. He groans into you, deep and animal from his chest and makes you shudder.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers. “Just enjoy.”

It’s impossible not to when he pampers your cunt so thoroughly. Never rough, never too fast. Like he could spend all night between your thighs. Sucking gently at your clit, thrusting his tongue inside, lapping in perfect, even strokes. You didn’t think you enjoyed oral from the few times you’ve experienced it — but Kyle makes it heavenly.

One of his hands, squeezing absently at your hip, travels down. He presses a finger at your entrance, playing in your slick but not going further. Waiting. You murmur a soft “please” that nearly has him growling.

Even just one finger feels like so much. His hands are bigger than yours. And so deliciously clever. It’s not long before you’re babbling for another, crying out softly when he provides. Two fingers curling and rubbing against your slick, sensitive walls and his tongue swirling around your needy clit — it’s so much. Overwhelming and perfect.

“K-Kyle, ‘m gonna…” you keen, shocked by how quickly it’s building.

Then he hums an encouragement and that little extra bit of stimulation sends you hurtling over the edge. You clench around his hand, hips twitching, grinding against his willing mouth through wave after wave. Not even aware of the noises you’re making until they fade off into soft whimpers of overstimulation.

Kyle eases his fingers from you, drops one last kiss to your hip. The lower half of his face is glistening. If you weren’t still somewhere in the stratosphere, you’d be embarrassed. But right now all you can manage is a quiet, needy noise, reaching for him.

He smiles and crawls over you, the warmth of his body soothing your shivery muscles, easing you through aftershocks. You wipe absently at his chin as you exchange lazy, sloppy kisses. Surprised to find that you don’t mind the taste of yourself; not much different than jizz.

“Give me… another second…” you mumble, head falling back as you catch your breath. “I’ll return the favor.”

Against your leg, you can feel him twitch through his jeans. He feels big. Your stomach clenches with want.

“That sounds bloody amazing, don’t get me wrong,” he answers, voice husky in your ear. “But if you’re up for it, I’d like to feel you cumming ‘round my cock.”

You gasp, not sure if you’re scandalized or even more turned on than before. Both?

“Wait, but I already…”

“I know, I was there,” he teases, kissing your temple. “But I wanna see it again. Feel it proper this time.”

You pause, blinking up at him as you trace your fingers along his ribs. “But isn’t that… I dunno, unfair?”

“Fuck no,” he answers. “I’d spend all night just making you cum if you let me.”

You huff and swat at him. “I think you’d kill me.”

“What a way to go, though, eh?” he chuckles, arching his eyebrows.

You groan, but there’s no hiding your grin. He brushes hair back from your face, cups your cheek.

“What do you say, baby? Let me fuck you good and proper.”

You snort, turn to nip his thumb in relation, but chirp, “yes, please!”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #poly 141 #misters steal your girl #open relationship trope

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orteil42 · 4 months

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some undifferentiated thoughts about my Starfield playthrough as i have them. i am a game developer with a strong interest in procedural generation and i've enjoyed a bunch of other bethesda games so this might get pretty mean sorry

(this is a long one)

starfield dialogue is already exhausting me "oh you must've been living under a moon rock ;)" get it! because they're in space! this would've been too corny for the Jetsons

there's a kind of cheap dusting of space theme over everything. the food isn't salmon but alien salmon. it's not seaweed but alien seaweed. cooking alien stir-fry. come on

cannot get over how clumsily the theming is handled. books, board games, weapon names revolve heavily around space. these people have been living on alien planets for hundreds of years yet have this unending sense of novelty about it. the game takes itself completely seriously but feels like it's attempting to parody itself

people's EYEBALLS are CLIPPING THROUGH THEIR EYELIDS

a woman is speaking to me in french. her accent is about as believable as her haircut

these are some of the worst reflection maps i've ever seen

next to nothing is interactive. you can sit in chairs and sleep in beds and that is about it. can't even drink from people's toilets. disgraceful

game helpfully crashes 5 seconds after i decide i should get some sleep. very handy!

my character has not said a single thing since i started playing. not one peep. this is an unmitigated improvement over Fallout 4 i'm so glad honestly

the more i poke around the big city the more the NPC quips feel like something out of gen-1 pokemon. can't get enough of this coffee :) this city is where it's at :) spacesuits are comfy and easy to wear

very strange sense of altered reality from the quest dialogue too. has anyone at bethesda met a person before? i move on to some mission that has me scanning wildlife on a faraway planet hoping this will, somehow, feel less alien than human conversation

just as with No Man's Sky, every planet is uniformly dotted with equidistantly-placed points of interest that you slowly make your way to (no vehicles besides your jetpack) which always turn out to be some cave or building identical to those you've cleared before

unlike with No Man's Sky, the seamless exploration is faked and the biodiversity is nil. you do get an impressive amount of raw loading screens however

the prefab bases and power stations found everywhere on planets seem to have very sparse, very specific slots for spawning consumables, which results in encountering some giant industrial installation in the middle of nowhere with, i don't know, a loaf of whole-grain sandwich bread just casually sitting next to it all proper. there is no breathable atmosphere here. who is eating this

planetary traversal is a CHORE. i am saying this as someone who loved Death Stranding

heinous "hold to confirm" buttons sprinkled in various flow-breaking places throughout the interface

enemy AI is abominable. nobody is pathing their way to get my ass. "must've been the wind" taken to the next level. an infant playing peekaboo has more object permanence

hoisting yourself up on ledges when jumping is…nice

companions randomly nowhere to be found. persists through multiple fast-travels and loading screens until, just as randomly, they pop back up

storage space is now limited! unlike in Fallout 4 and virtually every other bethesda game, your containers now hold a finite item capacity. god forbid we let the player have fun

baffling inventory UI. i imagine there's a mod out there that completely overhauls it the way SkyUI did for Skyrim. this should not be needed! how are your UIs getting worse a decade later!

scanning the precious few species inhabiting some dusty planet; one of them is this arching red root i've already seen several times before. my job done in this biome, i travel (read: teleport with a loading screen) to the polar region to find some other species. the first one i catalogue is the exact same red root again but this time it's named "boreas root" todd howard is a genius

some alien horror comes at me full fangs out. i hop on a pebble. obscenely, i am safe

procedural terrain generation beyond dull, impossibly unimaginative. these people have not had one critical thought on what makes a procedural world interesting. beginning to feel validated in my belief that only i should be trusted with proc gen. along with perhaps tarn adams

jokes aside this is making me feel genuinely insane. there have been excellent procedural generation techniques that produce compelling explorable maps for decades now. bethesda absolutely has the budget and know-how to do miles better than this yet somehow they just…do not? the same way Pokemon has decided to just no longer bother with their mainline games despite being the highest-grossing media franchise in history? hello? what is for real going on

some of the most cynical breadcrumbing i've seen in years. approaching some random cave and this person in space gear, who in the vast immensity of the infinite cosmos just happens to be snapping pictures right here, tells me more-or-less verbatim "if you like this place, you should see this other place" [other random cave has been added to your map.]

i do not like how good this makes No Man's Sky's gameplay look. it depresses me how much i have to hand it to No Man's Sky for at least not fucking up this bad. please stop making me wish i was playing No Man's Sky instead this is grotesque

i think i've exhausted my interest and patience for this game at the moment. i'll get back to the main story at some point and try some other systems ie. crafting and base-building to see if there's any engagement to be found but so far, my god. my god

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theemporium · 2 months

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[3.6k] your life comes crumbling down when photos are leaked of your boyfriend making out with another girl. it doesn't help that your other boyfriend seems to be handling it worse than you are by ignoring the world, including you. well, the everyone except his rival.

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It felt like a nightmare.

A sick, twisted nightmare that you were waiting to wake up from any minute now. You could imagine it so clearly, shooting up in your bed with the sheets sticking to your sweaty skin and blood roaring in your ears before soft, comforting French words washed over you. You imagined a pair of arms wrapping around you, holding you tight and a pair of lips pressed against the top of your head until you found the courage to speak.

Every cell in your body craved for that to be your reality, but it wasn’t.

Instead, you were sitting on your bed in the comfort of your father’s home with the distant sound of music playing from the kitchen and the curtains pulled back to let the sunshine come through and—well, a series of photos on your screen that made you feel like you were about to vomit, if you even had anything in your stomach from last night’s dinner to bring up.

It wasn’t often you visited your father’s home in Switzerland. But sometimes you craved the normalcy and seclusion of the farmhouse. You craved a few days to just relax, to pretend you were a normal girl with a normal father with a normal life. You liked to play pretend for a few days, and Sebastian always entertained the whole concept because he liked having you around.

That was what this trip was supposed to be.

With the boys over in the states for the Miami Grand Prix, you had decided against flying out with them. It had been a few months since you had seen your father and, with no great urge to fuck up your body clock with jet lag, you had decided to fly up to Switzerland instead before the boys inevitably returned for Imola.

It had been nice. It had been exactly what you needed. It had been the few days you needed to ground yourself, to remember life beyond the constant work and travel. It had been the perfect getaway. Even as a young girl, your life revolved around the paddock with your father racing every other weekend, it was easy to forget a life outside of it all.

But right now? Yeah, you really fucking wish the outside world didn’t exist at all.

Your relationship with your boys was complicated and intertwined and unconventional, but it was yours. You loved each other, you cared for each other, you would do anything for each other. Or at least, that was what you assumed. The day Charles Leclerc and Pierre Gasly entered your life, you thought everything made sense.

Even if it took a few years of beating around the bush and your own feelings to reach that conclusion.

You thought your relationship with your boys was one of the key things that made your life so perfect, that made you happy to be the one living it.

Until you woke up this morning, rolling over and reaching for your phone to find a flurry of notification banners filling up your screen. It was a mix of messages and mixed calls and mentions from almost every social media app you owned. It was a mess, undistinguishable and baffling to your barely-awake brain. You honestly just expected it to be another fluke, another stupid scandal blossoming out of nothing. It made you want to roll over and fall back asleep before your PR manager inevitably called you.

God, you would have preferred a stupid scandal to this.

Instead, you found countless photos and videos of Pierre. He was in a club, most likely celebrating ending up in the points after the race. He was in that white linen shirt you loved on him, the one he always left a little too unbuttoned because he knew it drove you and Charles crazy. But instead of his friends or even Charles by his side, it was some random girl.

His hands were all over her. She was pressed up against his front, starry eyed and grinning up at him. His lips were on her lips, her neck, any inch of skin he could kiss. She was laughing and dragging him out of the club. He was smiling and happily following her.

And you felt fucking sick.

Not even in your worst nightmares had you imagined something like this, something as horrific and despicable and public as this. Never had you thought Pierre—one of the men you loved—could be capable of this. You never thought he could do this to you, to Charles.

Charles.

Charles who was nowhere to be seen in the videos. Charles who had messaged about having an early night sleep before he flew out to Maranello for Imola prep. Charles who was either asleep, on a plane or sitting in his hotel room in a similar state to you.

Fuck, you wished you were with him right now.

But you couldn’t stop reading the comments, reading the countless articles and tweets and posts about the whole situation. You couldn’t bring yourself to ignore the comments from strangers on the internet saying it was about time, that they were glad he got away from you. The ones showing sympathy were even worse because it made this real, it made the whole fucking thing so real.

You hadn’t even heard the music from the kitchen stop or the footsteps approaching your bedroom. You hadn’t heard the knock or the door slowly creaking open. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen until you felt a warm arm wrapping around your shoulders.

“Shhh, honigbienchen, it’s okay. Let it out, I’ve got you,” Sebastian murmured, his voice soft and sweet and comforting and the exact thing you needed to break down the last of your crumbling walls.

You pressed yourself into your father’s side as you sobbed, as you mourned the loss of what you believed was a loving and trusting relationship. You let yourself melt into his embrace as he held you close, as he held you together.

You didn’t fight as he pulled your phone from your grasp, locking it and throwing it somewhere on the bed behind him. You didn’t fight as he pulled you closer, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck as you let the familiar smell of your father’s cologne—the same one he has used since you were a child—wash over you. You didn’t fight as he murmured comforting words in German because a part of you hoped he was right, wanted nothing more than your father to be right.

You just let yourself break because you knew your father would keep you together.

...

The apartment felt like a mockery of the life you once lived.

You remember the day the three of you signed the lease, it was one of the happiest days of your life. There were always concerns about moving too fast, about hitting a milestone as big as moving in together so early on in the relationship. But, in all honesty, you didn’t see the issues. Call it rose-tinted glasses or call it the truth, but it never felt too soon.

Not for you and your boys.

Because the relationship was still new when you moved in, just under a year old, but you had known these boys for years. Your life had been intertwined with racing from the day you were born because of your father, you had seen these boys grow up alongside you. You had been there to see them both enter Formula one. You had been there to see Charles as your father’s teammate.

You had been there for it all.

You had been friends long before you were a couple. You had grown close to Charles in the days your father wore the Ferrari emblem. You had found yourself attached to the boy, bonding with him in a way you never had in previous years. And where Charles was, Pierre was close behind. They were the package deal you thought you had lucked out on.

So, moving in together seemed like a baby step in the future the three of you had planned together, a simple necessity as you continued to grow and love and care for each other.

Now, it was a painful reminder that the place you called your home was tainted with the memories of a man you once loved. Maybe still loved. You hadn’t wanted to delve into those feelings too much yet.

It was empty.

You had expected as much, or maybe you didn’t. You weren’t sure anymore.

A small part of you assumed for this to be the moment you woke up from your nightmare. That you would wake up in your bed, slowly blinking your eyes open as you heard the boys laughing away in the kitchen at whatever they were attempting to cook before you woke.

Another part of you expected to find Charles here, looking like a mirror reflection of you as you finally fell into his arms, as you received the touch you had been craving from him and him only in the last forty-eight hours.

Another part of you expected to find Pierre standing in front of you, despite the reassurance you had received from a few friends at Alpine that the boy hadn’t left Miami. You thought maybe he would be here to beg for forgiveness or explain himself. You thought maybe he would at least have the decency to look half as worried as you were about Charles’ disappearance off the face of the Earth.

You didn’t know if you were disappointed or relieved that he wasn’t here.

With your messages and calls receiving no answer from Charles, you had packed your bags and hopped on the first flight out of Switzerland. Your father had his reservations of you leaving so soon, of you being alone. To be completely honest, you wished you could have stayed in his arms forever and ignore everything.

But you needed to see Charles.

You had to see him with your own two eyes because he was the only person in the world who understood what you were going through.

To the world, it was just you and Pierre. And you were all okay with that for right now, you were okay with keeping the details and complications of your relationship private until the moment was right.

But right now, you fucking despised it. Because the world was so focused on you and on Pierre and on the random girl from the club, but nobody was looking at Charles. Nobody cared about Charles. And despite your relationship being an open secret to the paddock, it seemed not even the people closest to him—his own fucking team—knew where he was.

And it fucking terrified you.

Monaco had been your last hope. Your apartment had been a fucking last resort. You were grasping at straws and you were losing your mind and there were a million different things running through your head but you just wanted Charles.

There was still a voice in the back of your head reassuring you that he would show up, that he would walk through that door and fall into your arms until you both felt something other than pain right now.

You wanted nothing more than for him to come home, to come to you.

But forty-eight hours of emotions were wracking through you and you didn’t even realise you were falling asleep on the living room couch until your body was too tired to even try sitting up.

...

…

“Where did you find him?”

“Well, hello to you too.”

You flashed the Dutchman a sheepish smile as a wave of embarrassment washed over you. Your brain had been on a one-track mentality since you received his message, the bleary-eyed sleepiness long gone the second he mentioned Charles. You hadn’t even bothered to drive over, far too jittery and worked up to get behind the wheel. You needed the cold air to calm you down.

“Sorry, hello,” you greeted as you stepped into his apartment, trying to push down the urge to just grab Max’s shoulders and shake him until he told you where Charles was. “I just—”

“I know, you’re worried,” he said, his voice softer than you expected. “C’mon, I left him on the couch because he looked comfortable and I didn’t want to disturb him.”

You silently followed the boy through the long entrance corridor, your hands clenched into fists at your side to stop yourself from picking at the skin around your nail beds until they were raw and bleeding.

You tried to prepare yourself for the sight you were going to see, to prepare for the worst just in case.

You hadn’t expected him to look so…peaceful.

He was sprawled on Max’s couch like the boy had said, his clothes rumpled and his hair messy but—at first glance, at least—he looked okay. But you could see the signs that he was no better than you were. His cheeks were red, like he had been crying a lot, and so was the tip of his nose, like he had been wiping it excessively. He looked worn down, and heavier than usual. Like there was a weight on his shoulders beyond the usual season stress.

He looked like he was half as put together as you.

“I found him outside a bar,” Max’s voice startled you out of your thoughts as he stepped into the space beside you at the bottom of the couch. “I was on a late night run—you know, jet lag and stuff—and he was there. He was…”

You frowned a little, turning to look at the Dutchman. “He was what?”

“He wasn’t okay,” Max whispered with his own frown. “He could barely string a sentence together, let alone stand up. I think he had been kicked out of the bar, I don’t know. I promised him I would call you if he came back with me. I…I couldn’t just leave him there, you know?”

You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat. “Thank you, Max.”

“It’s no problem, really,” he assured you and the silence fell between you two once more. And Max watched as your attention shifted back to Charles. He waited a few moments, a mental debate playing in his head, back and forth like a tennis match before he spoke up again. “I’m sorry. About everything. It…uh, it really sucks.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “Thanks.”

Max took the hint and quickly shifted the conversation. “It doesn’t look like he is waking up anytime soon,” he said. “You can stay the night. The spare room is free. Or I can bring some blankets out here if you don’t want to leave him.”

You turned to him, a strained smile on your face. “You don’t have to—”

“It’s okay,” he assured you, and something in you felt relieved that you wouldn’t have to return home to that bed, the bed you shared with him. “It’s late anyways. You look like you need some rest.”

You chose to omit the fact that you hadn’t slept more than a few hours in the last few days, and even that was after crying yourself to exhaustion.

“Thank you, Max. Really.”

The Dutchman smiled. “Like I said, it’s no problem.”

...

…

When Charles woke up the next morning, his head was killing him.

There was a bright light on his face, his mouth felt desert dry and he could have sworn there was a heavy weight on his chest. Not the metaphorical kind he had been lugging around for the last few days, but something actually weighing down on his chest and making it a little hard to breathe.

He gave himself a moment, tried to ground himself and hype himself up to open his eyes when he knew the light would only be more irritating than it was now. He tried to prepare himself for the killer hangover he was going to have to nurse all day, along with the countless calls to his team to apologise for not showing up to any of the meetings.

To eventually reply to you too.

However, when Charles finally gained the courage to open his eyes, the last thing he expected was to see a cat staring down at him.

“What the—” He startled as he quickly sat up.

The cat let out a noise of surprise before meowing, glaring at him before it padded off. Charles watched it for a few moments before blinking, taking in the unfamiliar setting around him. He knew he wasn’t in his apartment, or his mother’s, or either of his brothers’.

He had no fucking idea where he was.

But before the overwhelming fear took over his body and made him throw up everything he drank the previous night, you wandered into the room with a mug in hand.

“You’re awake,” you breathed out, stopping mid-walk like you couldn’t quite believe he was there.

Charles opened his mouth to say something but you reacted faster. The mug was abandoned on the coffee table he had failed to notice and you were throwing yourself in his arms, clinging onto him like you hadn’t seen him in years.

It had felt like it had been years.

Charles let himself wind his arms around you, to pull you onto his lap and nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck until the familiar scent of your shampoo completely engulfed him. He let himself enjoy the feeling of you in his arms after almost two weeks of not seeing you in person. He let himself enjoy the one person in this world that didn’t make him feel like questioning everything in his life.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry—”

“Shhh, it’s fine,” you whispered back, sniffling back your own tears. “It’s fine. You’re here now, that’s what matters.”

“But—”

“I just need you, Charles, no matter how long you take,” you murmured, your words slightly muffled but his arms tightened around you in understanding.

Neither of you said anything for a few minutes, just soaking in the presence after so long apart. And, if he was being honest, he was in no rush to speak about everything. It had been playing on his mind like a broken record since he saw the videos, he didn’t want to give it any more brain space. He knew it was inevitable, but right now he just wanted to enjoy you.

“Where are we?” He asked eventually when the curiosity and the cat glaring at him became too much.

“Max’s house,” you murmured, feeling the boy tense beneath you. You pulled back, keeping yourself close as you flashed the boy a sheepish expression. “He found you last night and brought you here before something happened to you.”

“Oh.” Charles blinked. “That was kind of him.”

“Very,” you nodded in agreement. You watched him for a few moments as he stared around the living room before you continued talking. “My team messaged me.”

Charles swallowed. “Yeah?”

“They want to know what our plan is,” you whispered. You didn’t need to say more than that, Charles understood.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Val thinks it will backfire,” you murmured, looking down at your hands instead of his face. “If we are seen together too much.”

Charles tensed.

“The media might spin a story about me moving on from—” You paused, his name unable to pass your lips.

“Can we just…not talk about this right now?” Charles whispered, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable. “I just…it’s too much.”

“Okay,” you whispered with a nod.

“We will handle it,” Charles assured you as he reached for your hand. Because he knew you, he knew the whole thing was eating you up and it didn’t help pushing the conversation away. But he needed to be in the right state for it—not half-drunk from the night before. “Together. I promise.”

You sniffled, squeezing his hand. “Together.”

“You two want pancakes for breakfast?”

Both of your heads snapped around to find Max by the door, a kind smile on his face. He paused when he took a look at the both of you, probably noticing the solemn faces and red eyes and instantly looking embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, did I just ruin a moment?”

You shook your head. “No—”

“We would love pancakes,” Charles finished for you, trying to focus on your hand in his rather than the fact he was sitting on the couch of the man he had been competing with for a majority of his life. “Coffee is on us. As a thank you.”

Max waved him off. “It’s fine—”

“We insist,” you said firmly.

Max glanced between you before nodding. “Okay,” he said. “But I’m only saying yes because you two seem very stubborn and I’m not awake enough to deal with that.”

And for the first time in over forty-eight hours, you had the oddest urge to laugh.

“Wanna order the coffee together?”

“Together.”

You weren’t sure what would happen next. You didn’t know what you were going to tell Val or the rest of your team. You didn’t know what Charles’ team would say. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do when you eventually saw Pierre again, when you had to sort out the fact you technically shared a flat with him.

But right now, your biggest issue was figuring out which coffee Max Verstappen liked and it was a kind distraction to your messy life.

Especially with the assurance that Charles was by your side.

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months

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Just Jason being the human version of a house cat.

Someone on here said that Jason is just a massive lap cat and I can’t help but agree because just imagine it; an absolute beast of a man finding solace in resting specifically on your plush lap, his strong, warm arms caging your waist as his face is burrowed pleasantly into your stomach in content, groans in displeasure whenever he feels you move even the slightest of inches.

How dare you move when Jason was just getting comfortable, apologise now for your transgressions.

Jason’s warmth would be advantageous to you during the colder months but an absolute nightmare during the summer, more so if you’re the type to get warm really easily and it ends up irritating you. But this is neither here nor there.

‘Jaybirdie?’ You ran your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp now and then.

Jason groans, showing that he was listening.

‘I’ve got to get going soon or else they’ll call and ask why I’m late.’ You tell him as you felt his arms tighten and you smile. ‘And I can’t exactly say that my 6’2 boyfriend is sprawled across my lap like a stubborn house cat that is refusing me to leave. Now can I?’ You finished, moving your hand away from his hair and focusing on rubbing his upper back, wishing you could see his muscles beneath the black t-shirt. You could only being to imagine the way his beautiful muscles would contract and relax from your touch as though they were like the waves you’d see at the beach, webbing and flowing; it was borderline enticing.

‘Then don’t go then. Simple as.’ His muffled voice said against your stomach.

‘I can’t, I promise to help out at work because someone called in sick…again.’ You muttered out the last part. You didn’t know why your co-worker wasn’t sacked for having so much time off but you knew you weren’t the only one that didn’t like them, and from what you’ve been told by older co-workers, this wasn’t the first time they’ve done this and even then you were surprised that they still even had a job to come back to. So because of them, you and your fellow co-workers were being worked to the bone to cover their hours on top of your own.

‘Again?’ Jason asked, lifting his head up from your lap, having been kept up to date on the goings on in your workplace. ‘How haven’t they gotten pulled in for that shit?’

You shrugged your shoulders, genuinely as baffled as he was about the whole thing. ‘Honestly have got the slightest clue Jay, but It’s all the more reason for me to go.’

Jason groans as he reluctantly lets you go but now you were the one upset at the sudden loss of his warmth and that must’ve been apparent on your face as Jason smirked mischievously as he reassumed his position on your lap, his strong arms went back to holding your waist tightly and his face burrows back into your stomach as he sighs in content once more.

‘See, now you don’t wanna go now because your Jaybirdie won’t be there to keep you warm.’ He teased as you tugged at his hair, causing him to groan.

‘That’s not-‘

‘Oh don’t play the coy card with me sweetheart, we’ve already been through that stage in our relationship.’ Jason cuts you off. ‘because if you wanted to leave that badly you wouldn’t be rubbing my back or running your hand through my hair like you are right now.’ Jason then looks up at you with a raised brow as if challenging you in daring to say otherwise when you both knew the truth.

‘It’s just- we don’t typically get enough time together.’ You began. ‘Crime in Gotham has been on an increase as of late, which is taking much of your time, and work has been asking everyone to pitch in and help cover until our co-worker decided to comes back at their own accord.’ You paused to stroke Jason’s cheek, internally melting when you felt him press his face further into your hand, gingerly kissing your palm. ‘It just doesn’t give us enough time for moments like these, the moments we crave most.’

‘The moments where we’re just together.’ Jason finishes for you and you muttered a small ‘yeah.’

A silence befalls you both as you tried to engrain this moment into your memory because neither of you knew when the next time you got to peacefully exist in tandem, whether that be doing your own thing or doing something together, just as long as you were with each other for longer then a fleeting five minutes.

‘So do you still want to go to work?’ Jason asked. ‘Or do you want to be selfish for once?’

You gave it some thought and soon after began to reach for your phone and punch in the work number as Jason squeezed a thigh in his large hand. ‘Selfish it is.’ He murmured with a smile as he gotten himself comfortable before feeling you run your fingers through his hair once more.

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