#any other way is just setting myself up for disappointment

[respectthepetty]

Pride Petty Watch (SOTUS) 1/5

The crowd picked two blacklisted shows for me to watch during Pride, which were Love in the Air and The Untamed, and so even though I finished the first, I've stalled on the second, and it's all because of the beast named SOTUS. I watched this show when it aired in 2016, but I don't remember any of it. All I remember is that I'm very mad at it, yet this was the wild card show that was unlocked during the voting, so instead of fearing this show so much that I cannot bring myself to finish The Untamed, I'm going straight to the big boss, and fighting this demon NOW!

It's me and the gear in a battle until the very end, and even though I cannot remember a single thing about this show, as soon as I pressed play, all the hate in my body rose to the surface, so I already know this is going to be a ~journey~

First and foremost, I'm going to give this show and Krist a compliment because I HATE Arthit, which is exactly what I should be doing in the first episode. He is 🎶The Worst🎶 and he leans all the way into it. He snarls. He yells. He forces a girl to give him her number through mere power dynamics and sexism, and this isn't just 2024-me thinking this. 2016-me knows that this character is written well because the worst thing Arthit can think of doing to another man is making him say he is gay.

Then to casually whisper in that man's ear that he could find him a skirt to wear . . .

Arthit really is the epitome of the homophobe-to-homo character and I can't believe that it worked in 2016 since I feel that was late for a character like this to still be a love interest, yet it's still working so well in 2024 because here I am, pissed, pressed, and ready to fuck him up for being the douchiest bro in this damn cafeteria. It's refreshing how much I'm allowed to hate him.

Because even the way he screams Kongpob's name with his student ID every fucking two seconds is setting me off.

And I'm very disappointed in BL Land for only ONE video existing of him screaming Kongpob's name, and it's only the times from the first half of the first episode. Thanks, OP, but we are slacking!

But, honestly, if I had a boy who looked up at me like this every time I screamed his name, I'd probably be a lot worse than Arthit. You know, instigating fights and hands on me or something like that.

And now I'm questioning this series because if these two would just choke each other out then kiss, I would be fully for it and enjoying all my snacks along the way. I'd be fine with Kongpob telling the entire room he would make Arthit his bitch, but Kongpob instead says he'll make Arthit his wife, and . . . the vibe is not as kinky as I need it to be to support all that is being thrown at me from these two.

Which is why I'm heavily shipping Kongpob with M! Kongpob got in trouble for having two books, one which was M's, and had to say he liked men. Now, they are drunk at this table with homophobe Arthit and the hazers are staring them down while Kongpob is just holding M's face.

But let me actually rewatch this show instead of reflecting on how GMMTV messed this enemies AND lovers premise up twice (looking at you, Dangerous Romance) because right now, this show is trying to make me believe the girls would not wave hello to a babyface Off.

Once again, back to the actual rewatch, and because I don't remember a thing about this, I don't know if Wad is good or bad, but him busting out this move when Prem told him to apologize was equivalent to an older white Southern Christian woman telling someone to have a blessed day, so I felt that shade through the screen!

And I'm not victim-blaming, but I do actually think Kongpob and Arthit are trying to push each buttons to see who will break first and fuck (up) the other one because this is not a sane answer to "why did you stay?" when the possibility of the hazers physically harming someone is extremely high.

I only see my Kongpob and M ship now because when Arthit asked if anyone knew M, Kongpob immediately stood up and knew his entire life story. I have known my best friends for decades, and I still could not recite half of that information. Kongpob, what are the heterosexual reasons for you know any of this information about M?

JAN!

Once again, Arthit is 🎶The Fucking Worst🎶 because instead of just taking his L, he made Kongpob say everyone's damn name, then ripped up May's name tag, only to scold Kongpob for giving her his, and now the kids are passing out from his ridiculous physical activities! As a member of a Greek-letter organization who was hazed because that was the culture of the time period, Arthit is being soooooo messy!

Hear me out - Kongpob and M would be so good together! Arthit is the antagonist. Kongpob is the protagonist who meets a sweet quiet boy on his first day of orientation. He helps the sweet quiet boy come out of his shell and watches over him. He cares for him. THEY FALL IN LOVE!

But instead I'm getting a love interest who nominated Kongpob because he knows he is cute, yet can't admit it because ~internalized homophobia~ Ryan from The OC would have never treated Seth this way, and they were in the early 2000s. What is your excuse, Arthit?! The show wants me to hate you, and for that, I'm thankful.

But I could never hate Minnie! Arthit came up quick like he was protecting the boys from Minnie being a predator, but Minnie would NEVER! I could never fear Minnie with the bisexual scarf? And now MDL is telling me the actor has only acted in one other series and that series is Deep Night. Gold star resume, and I truly mean that.

Look at them. LOOK AT THEM! Tell me they don't look good together. Tell me they wouldn't have wrecked every other ship. This is why I need GMMTV to let these MEN (no longer boys) kiss their homies. Kongpob x M. Singto x New. I ship it.

*punching walls and ripping doors off hinges* Kongpob gets kicked out the group and the FIRST one to stand up for him is the boy he loves (it's canon to me and IDGAF what the story's gotta say about it). Quiet and sweet M finds his voice just so he can ask to have Kongpob back. THEY ARE IN LOVE!

Arthit is wildin' out here trying to gaslight Kongpob with this bullshit of "if you keep helping out your friends, then they'll never stand on their own." Sir, you wanna fuck Kongpob so bad, you look stupid.

AND KONGPOB SAYS IT!

I cannot stress enough how kinky this is and could have been if 2016 BL Land was allowed to lean into this because Kongpob has already established through his actions that he likes showing up for the punishments, and here he says the quiet part very loudly - Arthit likes punishing him.

Taking a break from the kink to point out that GMMTV was always going to get My Love Mix-Up because in 2016, May's friend said that "In Japan, if you write down the name of your crush on an eraser and use it, that person will love you"

Then we have May asking for an eraser and keeping it just so she can write Kongpob's name on it. But who gets upset about it? M! Because he loves Kongpob and I'm not accepting that he likes May just like Atom realized he liked a boy instead of girl eight years later. M loves Kongpob. That is my truth!

And here comes the kink lite again! Kongpob could leave. He doesn't have to take this verbal abuse from Arthit. He doesn't have to eat that damn spicy ass plate of food. He doesn't have to finish it either because Arthit gets up and leaves, yet HE DOES! Because he likes this treatment. This makes sense if it's sadomasochism, and that will guide me through these next couple of episodes.

Because the decision to make Arthit the one who likes pink milk is a choice, and now I want an entire TED Talk on how Arthit is probably the most well done homophobic bully with internationalized homophobia falling in love with the boy he is bullying.

Because, joke's on him, the guy he falls for is into that kind of shit.

And all of this happens so we can end with Kongpob getting pink milk for himself after he finished an entire spicy meal that he didn't need to since he enjoys being punished should make me so happy, but the show is trying to lighten Arthit's behavior by having him pay for the bill (and get the freshmen food, and having been hazed himself, and blah blah blah) instead of just letting the toxicito be toxic and Kongpob being into it.

I never thought I'd write this, but I don't want Arthit to be tamed. I want him to be so much worse.

[tofuthebold]

i really like Jin's new jacket.

version without the lightning, can't decide which one i like more tbh:

[prettycottagequeer]

ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)

SO these I should start on asap:

50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make

100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week

150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)

200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)

these can wait longer:

300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect

500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)

1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks

2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.

Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese

here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)

How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks

I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.

that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.

the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.

On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started

[heeliopheelia]

LACY (p. jay)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

includes: oral (f receiving), fingering, crying, insecurities, soft dom! jay, praising, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, hate comments

word count: 3.4k

synopsis: 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘫𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩

guts event masterlist ⋆♱✮♱⋆ main masterlist

Looking at your phone makes you want to throw up. 

“out of literally everyone he pulls… that? gotta be a joke”

“jay deserves sm better”

“if that thing got a chance with him that means i’d be unstoppable”

“pls tell me this is a joke”

“girlie gotta have a crazy head game cuz ain’t no way lmfao”

As if you don’t feel bad enough about yourself already. 

Ever since the photo of you and your boyfriend coming back from a date leaked to the internet, there’s been nothing but a ridiculous amount of hatred directed towards your clueless self. 

In the morning Jay’s text saying please stay offline today baby was enough to make your stomach churn without even knowing what was actually happening. And against his words and your common sense, your fingers instantly went to the first better social media app on screen’s your homepage.

And so with every single comment put out on the internet, you feel your confidence and self-worth slowly crumbling down until they have eventually worn you out and you’re nothing but a sobbing mess ever since the morning. Your head hurts from all the crying yet the slightly masochistic part of yourself doesn’t let you tear your gaze away from the screen.

Maybe it’s because deep down you’ve always felt like you’re not good enough to be dating such a man as Jay, and the insecure thoughts he’s worked so hard to bury six feet underneath your feet have just resurfaced once again. 

Knowing he’s surrounded by almost literal embodiments of the beauty standard on a daily basis and then having to come home to a plain nobody like you can’t be good for no one’s mental health, that’s for sure. 

“Baby?”

The lump stretches your throat too painfully for you to make any other sound than the whimper you let out, and soon you hear Jay’s footsteps approaching your suffocatingly silent room.

“Are you there, love?” 

You press your trembling lips together and nod your head, trying to force yourself to stop being so emotional for once. The last thing you want him to do is deal with… this, whatever your current state is. 

“You’ve been reading the comments,” he points out quietly, but not with accusation – only worry. His heart squeezes with desperation to somehow make you feel better, yet you take his silence as a sign of disappointment in you. 

And somehow you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, too swallowed by shame. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper eventually after a couple beats of silence. Your head drops lowly onto your bunched up knees. “I just had to see it myself.”

“Hey, no more twitter, no more instagram – no more,” Jay pleads softly as he carefully takes your phone out of your weak grasp and sets it on the bedside table, only to thread his fingers through yours and intertwine them together. “Don’t do this to yourself. Please, stop crying, beautiful. They don’t deserve your tears, hm?”

A sob rips out of your throat and echoes through the silent room, simultaneously breaking your boyfriend’s heart in two. “It’s just… I-,” you’re unable to finish your sentence with the hundreds of thoughts running around your mind, not giving you a moment of peace since hours ago.

“I know nothing I say will make you feel better now,” Jay whispers, shuffling closer on the bed until his chest is pressed against your shoulder and he envelops you in a protective embrace. He presses a warm kiss to your temple. “I love you. I hate to see you like that, honey.”

You nod your head, sniffling loudly and choking on your own sobs. “I love you too,” you cry quietly, moving your head to rest against his chest. “I just don’t feel good with myself right now.”

Jay hums. His hands blindly reach to your face to wipe your tears away, fingers gently caressing your damp face. “I know.” His words are muffled by your hair as he nuzzles his face in it. “I’m sorry.”

You can clearly hear the violent beating of his heart from your position and the insides of your stomach twist with sadness because you know well he’s blaming himself for everything. He promised to protect you at the beginning of your relationship, forever and always, and yet he’s failed at the one thing that should’ve been of the highest importance to him.

He felt conflicted about his job more times than he would like to admit. The constant restrictions, always having to watch his words and actions, the almost non-existent privacy – it was tough, annoying, but he could take it. 

But he’s never hated being who he is more than he does right now. Seeing the person he loves the most, the person who holds his entire world, being in such a miserable state because of his job makes him feel just so helpless.

Swallowing his self-pity, Jay soothes you as gently as he can. His fingers thread through your hair, waiting patiently until your heavy sobs turn into hiccups and eventually small whimpers. 

“I chose you, YN,” he finally says softly, hand pushing the hair sticking to your face away as the other one cups your cheek and brings you to look at him. “I chose you and I’d choose you over everyone else. It’s always going to be you. Always.” 

You blink your lashes heavy with tears, cheeks stinging from the excessive amount of them that has dropped down your face. He nudges your cheek with his nose before pressing a gentle kiss to your brow bone. This tender gesture and his words finally allow the smallest smile to appear on your lips. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” Jay giggled. His arms wrap tighter around you before he lifts you up and pulls you onto his lap. “You know, it’s okay if you don’t fully love yourself yet, I can do it for the both of us for now, baby. Please, believe me.” 

You nod your head, now choked up for a whole different reason. You let him lean in and join your lips together in a sweet kiss. His knuckles caress your cheeks and chin as he plants a chain of pecks on your swollen mouth.  

He tries to break the kiss but you don’t let him get too far away, pulling him back in by his neck and crashing your lips together again, this time more desperately. Jay’s fingers slip into the loopholes of your pants, bringing you closer and closer until there’s no space left between your chests. 

The hushed I love you’s coming out from both of your mouths, his warm lips sucking a kiss after kiss on yours, his hand that drops down and sneaks underneath your top to linger over your skin – you’re becoming dizzy from the overwhelming love you’re being given.

“I’ve achieved everything because of you, love. I am who I am because of you,” he breathes out into your lips, forehead bumping against yours. One last time, he kisses the whatever is left of your tears away, then goes back to your hungry lips. “I’d give you the world if you asked me to. Let me take care of you, like you always do for me.”

With a strong move, he pulls you off his lap and lays you down on the plushy bedding. You shiver when the warmth of his body leaves you, only to catch your breath when he drops to the ground with the dull sound of his knees hitting the wooden floor. 

His warm hands rub your thighs soothingly, palming your inflamed skin before his lips follow their lead and pepper small kisses all over them, gradually traveling higher. You can hardly breathe from the tension, impatiently waiting for his every next move, the exhaustion in your body making you feel everything tenfold. 

The whisper you let out is strangled because of the prominent tingling in between your thighs. “I need you, Jay.”

With a hum of acknowledgement, he unzips then takes off your pants along with your underwear, discarding the clothes somewhere on the floor blindly.  Breath hitches in your throat when he leans forward and finally buries his face between your legs, lips softly grazing your warmth.  

His hands push on your inner thighs, holding your legs wide open as he leans down and presses a kiss to your pussy. A jolt shoots through your body when his teeth brush over your clit before he ducks his head down and engulfs it with his warm mouth entirely.

A shiver runs down your spine when his tongue runs flat against your clit, another but longer lick following right after. Your fingers clench on the duvet beneath you as you pant and whimper with every move that he makes. 

Jay’s thumbs circle and press on the smooth skin on your thighs, he himself humming and grunting into your pussy as he slurps you up. 

You’re perfect, so perfect in his eyes, yet the angle is still not satisfying to him, constantly searching for a better access to your quivering hole. Suddenly, his arms wrap around your knees and he swiftly lifts your legs further up, almost folding you in half as he sinks his mouth in your wetness again, groaning at how much better he can eat you out now. Properly. 

A loud moan ripples from your throat and you jerk in his hold violently, not expecting him to just manhandle you like this. You’re just there, mind blank and eyes fluttering shut when Jay pushes his tongue into your hole, fucking and stretching you with it as best as he can. He’s being so loud with it, so nasty that you can’t help but surrender yourself to him completely, losing yourself to him over and over again. 

Two of his warm fingers circle your weeping hole before letting them sink inside slowly, gently. With the addiction of his nose brushing over your clit, his tongue never halting its movements and now working in harmony with his fingers, you’re barely responsive. 

You mewl and whine breathlessly, sweat starting to create a thin layer on your worked up body. Jay pulls away to take a breath and admire your blissed out face, long fingers curling up, and he ducks his head to cover your sensitive thighs with marks and bites. 

“Aah, s’ good,” you slur out, arching your back off the bed slightly. 

“Yeah? You like that, baby?” Jay asks, sucking one last hickey on your inner thigh before moving back to your needy cunt. You can only hum in agreement, the noise quickly turning into another string of moans and wails as you feel your approaching high. 

Jay cranes his neck to get to you at the best angle, one that will help you reach your climax the fastest. He didn’t even realize when his now hard cock started rutting against the bed slowly, only focused on you and you only, restraining his own pleasure. 

You open your mouth to warn him of your incoming release but before you can do that, Jay speeds up the movement of his fingers and has you coming within a second, a loud cry of his name on your lips serving as honey for his ears. 

He drags his face away from your glistening pussy to take a look at your face.

You’re so beautiful, so perfect, soft and all his.

“My prettiest,” he murmurs, planting a bunch of kisses against your thighs and stomach before lifting himself on his arms and crawling to get you to face him, laying breathlessly beneath him. 

He lowers himself to kiss you right on the lips, the slick from his face smearing against yours slightly but you’re too far gone to pay it any mind. 

“I love you,” is all you’re able to choke out in a whisper. Jay smiles and brushes his nose against yours, kissing you once, then twice and thrice before letting you fill your lungs again. 

“I love you more.”

And as much as you want to protest at first, you realize that he might be actually right. There’s no doubt of your feelings or devotion to him, you gave him your entire heart a long time ago, entrusted him with all you are and had enough faith in him to never make you regret your decision.

But no one loves like Jay does. His love is pure and raw, coming from the depth of his heart and overshadowing all other feelings you’ve ever harbored to another man. 

That’s how you also know that no matter anything you’ll always end up together, overcome everything. 

His gentle hands grab the bottom of the t-shirt you’re wearing, his actually now that he takes a better look at it, then lifts it up, revealing your perky breasts to him. He plants kisses against them, simultaneously unzipping his pants and kicking them down to the floor. His boxers are discarded next and you help him unbutton his shirt with your shaky fingers. 

“Make me yours,” you say into his lips once you’re done with that, hand pressed against his cheek. 

Your words are enough to send Jay’s patience out the window, and he’s lifting your leg to hook it over his waist before sinking his hard cock inside you, your walls instantly sucking him in to the hilt. He groans at the warmth that engulfs him, squeezing him so tightly he can barely move. 

Your heart pounds in your chest, blood rushing to your cheeks at the intimacy, his eyes boring into you lovingly. Because that’s what he is. Utterly, hopelessly lovesick. 

His chest heaves above yours for a moment as he lets you adjust and relax around him before settling for a slower and deep pace. Your breaths get ragged quickly, listening to the filthy squelching whenever he pulls out of you only to sink in further each time. 

“See, baby? It’s all good now,” he rasps, sweaty hair beginning to cling to his forehead because of the stuffiness in your bedroom. “You don’t need anyone else. Only me. I’ll take care of you.”

“Only you,” you repeat after him, watching his eyes sparkle and eyebrows furrow.

He lets out a chuckle, out of breath. “Good girl.”

His hold on you tightens as he fucks into you, his large hand slipping to the back of your head and pressing your face to his neck. His thrusts grow faster, more erratic and messy, and the only thing you’re able to do at the moment is whine desperately into his skin and wrap your other leg over his hips, thighs clenching his sides even tighter.

You feel better. You feel heavenly. You feel loved.

He bullies his way so deep inside you that you feel as if on the verge of blacking out. It’s so good. You’re pretty sure you’re going to leave a drool stain on your boyfriend’s toned shoulder once you pull away from there as you’re just unable to close your mouth for a second, too fucked out to have any control over it now.

“Can I go a little faster, sweetheart?” Jay asks.

You whine into the junction of his neck. “Mhm.”

And so he does, his touch growing in intensity as well. He lets go of your neck and your head falls back onto the pillows and you finally get to look at his face, expression so soft and tender, and a stark contrast to the way he fucks you. 

Your stomach sets ablaze with every loud clap of his hips against yours, his precum making a mess on your thighs. 

“Fucking hell,” he moans lowly, not being able to get enough of the doe-eyed look you’re giving him. He didn’t know it was possible, but he thinks he loves you even a little more than yesterday. 

The sloppy sound of your wet skin colliding with his ricochets off of your bedroom’s walls and your eyes water again – this reason completely contrasting to the earlier heartbreak. Jay is here to kiss all of your tears away, his warm lips tracing your cheeks and collecting every salty droplet that falls on your skin. 

You throw your head back, nails digging into his shoulder blades. And then he reaches down with the one hand that’s not holding you, pressing his fingers on your swollen clit and rubbing circles on it, making you grow lightheaded again. 

His never ceasing thrusts keep hitting your g-spot, without even giving you a second to breathe. 

“J-Jay,” you whimper, voice wet and small, and he knows exactly what you want to communicate to him. 

You fall apart in his arms as your orgasm hits your sensitive pussy even harder this time, making you squirt with a shallow gasp for air. You feel completely owned by him at the moment. 

Jay’s eyes roll to the back of his skull for a hot minute, his cock aching and twitching as your walls spasm and squeeze him mercilessly. He buries his face in your neck now, nibbling under your ears and panting heavily against your skin.

Jay cums hard, probably harder than he ever has before – all because he knows he’s fucked you so good you can’t stop shaking in his arms. His own thighs begin to quiver a little as he ruts his emptying cock into your warm pussy, filling you up so nicely.

It’s the choked up wail that leaves your throat that spurs him into pushing more of his throbbing length into your sensitive self. His warm cum fills you to the brim, seeping slowly onto your thighs, yet he keeps snapping his hips against you slowly. “That’s it. Take it, baby. Take it all.”

Your lips part and when he pulls away from your neck, he immediately slides his tongue against yours. His kisses are sloppy and hot and wet but that only pushes you even further into the state of bliss, completely losing your mind for the man above you.

Your back is arched, making you press your chest into his forcefully as you jolt and twitch from overstimulation as he pulls out his soft cock out of you carefully. 

Jay’s lips press to your temple warmly with a soothing intention. You try to catch your breath, body sweaty and clammy just like your hair. Yet you look just as pretty as ever to him. His prettiest girl. 

 He collapses onto the bed next to you and lets you cling to him for as long as you want to, holding you tightly to his chest and drowning you in praises and compliments. It’s only when he notices that your eyelids are growing heavy that he gently pulls you away and up from the bed, steadying your wobbly self on the rug beside your bed. 

You look at him in confusion, eyes misty and tired and he can’t help but giggle and kiss you one more time. “We should probably take a shower first,” he flicks your nose when you scrunch it up slightly but then you nod your head.

When you start walking into the direction of the bathroom, goosebumps spiking your skin despite the hot temperature in the room, you turn around and frown when you notice that Jay has stayed behind you.

“You’re not coming, love?” You ask but he shakes his head. 

“You go first, baby. I’ll be right there in a second.” He nods his head to the ruined bedding. “Gotta change the sheets first.”

You flush as you take in the mess you’ve both made. “Right,” you mumble and then disappear behind the door. 

When you’re both showered and back in the bed together, you’re propping yourself on your elbows, trying to reach the switch of the lamp on the bedside table. You don’t get far when Jay’s arm wraps itself across your torso and brings you back down, right into his chest.  

“Stay,” he mumbles, nuzzling his face in your hair.

You giggle quietly but give in and lay comfortably, half on the bed and half on your boyfriend. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jay hums lowly. “I mean forever. Stay with me forever.”

You look at him, eyes slightly widening despite how tired you are, and his words take your breath away when you realize he’s dead serious. You’re at a loss of words, looking at the man by your side, stunned, yet he only smiles lazily and brings your hand to his lips to press his warm lips against your knuckles.

“Marry me.”

Lacy, oh, Lacy, I just loathe you lately

And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you

Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you

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note: i actually really like how it turned out xx

[rcmclachlan]

On this week's episode of Things I Think About While Driving, I was having myself a grand ol' time thinking about all the different times and ways Buck could've met Tommy earlier, and the one I kept coming back to was S4xE5.

Like, right after Buck walks out of Maddie's apartment having learned about Daniel...

He drives.

He drives and drives and drives with no actual destination in mind, operating completely on autopilot, for hours. No music, no podcasts, just the rush of wind through all the open windows of the Jeep and the echoing refrain in his head of so they made one.

It would've been an allogeneic transplant. He'd looked it up once when he was watching a 60 Minutes special on Myelodysplastic Syndrome. They would've taken the stem cells from his umbilical cord if the timing was right. Unless they tried it a little bit later, maybe waited a few months before they scraped Daniel's homegrown defense system right out of Buck's bones. He would've been too young to remember the pain and discomfort that came after. He wonders if he cried as a baby more than he would've if he'd been wanted for anything other than the hellfire missiles in his marrow.

And then it didn't work. Defective, right out of the gate. No wonder they've always treated him like a massive disappointment—he is one. He had one job and he couldn't even manage to do that much.

So he drives. He drives and he's furious. He drives and he's inconsolable. He drives and he's sorry. With every street he turns down at random, he moves onto another emotion, and by the time the gas gauge is nudging close to empty and the evening is giving way to night, the only thing he's capable of feeling is tired.

And hunger. He'd only had an apple before he went over to Maddie's.

So he circles back to Glendale Boulevard and decides on the place with a red lion on their sign solely because it doesn't look busy for 8:30pm on a Tuesday. There's even a free space in the little lot next to the building. Thanks, COVID.

It's pretty quiet inside, with a substantial bar set against old wood paneling on the walls, making it feel like an old tavern. He takes a seat at the far end of the bar where the lighting's kind of dim.

Turns out it's a German bar, so he orders a glass of Warsteiner, which he's never had before, and it's got a strong, malty backbone for a lager. The bartender tells him there's a Biergarten in the back if he wants to take his drink outside. 

Buck doesn't want to move from his little corner. It feels safe here, even with his mask off. At least two of the one hundred thousand knots in his back muscles have relaxed since he sat down. He quietly declines the offer, but he does order himself the sausage plate and a glass of Augustiner Maximator once he's done with the Warsteiner, which goes down so good he can't believe it's got an ABV of 7.5%. He orders a second.

He's in the middle of robotically eating a smoked bockwurst he can't taste, thinking so they made one, when the door to the biergarten opens up. A guy walks over to the bar and Buck throws him a cursory glance. Then he looks again. 

The guy is exactly who you'd find on the cover of the LAFD charity calendar: big and beefy, with the kind of high cheekbones that belong on a runway in Milan. Effortlessly handsome. Buck wants to tip his beer toward him, because, respect. He also wants to poke his biceps and ask what his regiment is, if he P90X's or something. Buck isn't a small man by any stretch of the imagination, but this guy looks like he could throw Buck around like a grizzly bear. 

Buck lets himself be distracted by watching the guy lightly tap his fingers against the bar to the beat of whatever 80s song is playing softly over the speakers. He's always loved people watching; it's a great way to get out of his head after tough calls. This guy is a particularly fascinating specimen. There's just something magnetic about him. Buck's known people like that: they draw the eye even if they're not doing anything to warrant attention. Without even being called, the bartender wanders over to the guy, no doubt drawn to whatever invisible light is coming off him. Buck can't hear what they're saying, but then the bartender turns and points right at Buck, who freezes, caught. 

The guy flashes Buck a thumbs up and asks just loud enough to be heard through his face mask, "How was the Warsteiner?"

Swallowing, Buck lifts the empty glass and says, "Uh, g-good. Full-bodied." 

With a thoughtful nod, the guy turns back to the bartender and says something too quiet for Buck to hear, but he figures it out when the bartender goes and comes back with a glass of what is clearly Warsteiner. The guy takes a sip, pauses, and then moves toward Buck, stopping before he gets too close. "Thanks for the recommendation. Hey, Jay, put his next one on my tab."

The bartender—Jay—gives him a thumbs up and goes to the register. Buck, mortified at the thought of being a charity case, of this guy pitying him enough to buy him a beer, opens his mouth to tell Jay he can pay for his own beers, thanks, when the guy holds up a hand to forestall the protest.

"German beer's not usually my thing. I'm more of a craft beer kind of guy, so really, I appreciate the assist. If it makes you feel better, pay it forward." His cheeks curve up, and in the bar lighting Buck can see there are long legs attached to the guy's crow's feet. He clearly has spent his life smiling. Buck would bet this man has never once curled up in the dark on his birthday knowing for a fact his parents weren't going to even text him and was still disappointed when the clock ticked past midnight and he had nothing to show for it. This guy's parents probably had a golden statue of him erected in their front yard.

Buck musters up a smile that feels like one of the little, weak waves that just sort of roll over the shoreline without any fanfare before dissolving back into the sea, and the guy tilts his head.

"Rough day?"

"Rough life," Buck says, utterly pathetic, and feels like he's betrayed all his friends for even saying it. "No, that's—that was incredibly ungrateful. My life isn't—I-I have a good life. I just learned something today about my parents that, uh, clarified a few things for me about our relationship. It... wasn't great."

The guy taps his finger against the bottle of Warsteiner in his hand, staring at Buck with deep consideration, flaying Buck from head to toe without a word. Then he gives a nod that smacks of commiseration and walks around the bar until he's only two chairs away. When the guy opens his mouth and inhales, Buck can already hear what's coming: surely it's not that bad. You should talk it out with them. You're being too hard on them. C'mon, they're your parents, they love you. 

"That sucks," the guy says, simple as anything.

Out of nowhere, heat starts prickling in Buck's nose and the corners of his eyes, and he looks at this guy and the calm, earnest expression on his face, and... yeah. Yeah. It does suck. It sucks so hard and it has for so long, and all his life he's wanted someone to tell him that, to hear him list every injustice and offer a crumb of support without any pretense or judgment. Buck gasps a laugh that sounds more like he's been stabbed, and he opens his mouth to thank the guy for telling him exactly what he needed to hear, but instead what comes out is... everything. The whole story comes out of him like an unraveling firehose, pulling longer and longer the more he talks, stretching from the day he crashed his bike—"But it wasn't my bike, it was his."—to sitting in Maddie's living room and finally learning the truth: that he hadn't been crazy, that something had been wrong his entire life and the something was him.

"They'd made a box for her—full of all these memories and little trinkets and pictures—and I bet you he had one with baseball cards and his first, like, pacifier, and Skittles, and whatever, but when I asked them where mine was, they looked at me like I had three heads, because human junkyards full of scrap metal and defective blood cells don't get baby boxes," he finishes on a shout. Panting like he just sprinted to Santa Monica and back, he finds himself deflating into his folded arms on top of the bar now that he isn't filled to the brim with 29 years worth of bottled-up grievances. This must be what bulldozed graveyards feel like: scraped clean and ready to be filled up again. Buck is surrounded by five empty glasses, a little mountain of twisted-up napkins, and a complete stranger who hasn't said a word since Buck began, and it's as a good place to start again as any.

Buck closes his eyes and stews in embarrassment for about thirty seconds, then turns his head to look at his audience of one. At some point, the guy had gravitated into the chair right next to him and took his mask off, revealing a stupidly handsome face, and his wide-eyed, slack-jawed stare makes Buck want to throw up a little. It may have been the cleansing Buck'd needed, but the poor guy didn't ask to be part of any of it. Buck doesn't know why he told him in the first place. This is the kind of thing he'd hesitate to blurt out to Eddie, never mind a complete stranger, but there had been something so oddly steady and compassionate in the guy's gaze that Buck had felt like he could trust him with anything. It had been so easy to just... talk. And to his credit, the guy had listened to Buck's entire rant—stopping Buck only twice to ask a quiet, clarifying question—without making a face, snorting, rolling his eyes, or getting up and just leaving.

Face warm, Buck shifts in his seat to try and get feeling back into his left ass cheek, then he opens his mouth to apologize for dumping all that on the him instead of at his next session with his fucking therapist.

But the guy just blinks out of his stupor and flags down Jay, who wanders over sedately. He taps the bar counter twice and says, "Yeah, can you just put the rest of his bill on my tab?"

When Buck sits up with an outraged squawk, the world spins a little, and the guy places a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder to steady him. He doesn't take it back right away and Buck doesn't shrug it off. The weight feels good.

"N-No, that wasn't—you can't do that, man," Buck mumbles, face hot. His mouth feels a bit gummy.

"I can and I did," the guy says. "Someone should treat you to dinner for putting up with all that shit for all this time. I don't know your parents from a hole in the ground, but I would happily drop 3,000 pounds of water on their house. Jesus Christ, and I thought my issues with my parents were bad."

"I never should've—"

But the guy shakes his head and tightens his hand on Buck's shoulder. "You absolutely should've, actually. If that had built up any longer, I probably would've seen you literally explode on the 6 o'clock news."

Buck snorts a laugh, rubbing his disbelieving smile against his sleeve. "Believe me, it wouldn't be the first time you saw me on the 6 o'clock news."

The guy gives Buck a curious tilt of his head, so Buck clarifies, "Do you remember a few years back when that kid was mailing bombs to people and he rigged that fire engine to explode? And it fell on that firefighter?" At the guy's slow, wary nod, he continues, "I was the, uh, firefighter."

At that, the guy sits up and his gaze goes so sharp that Buck wants to call Jay over and have him slice up some bratwurst on it. "You're with the 118."

Buck blinks, and then the guy introduces himself... as LAFD firefighter pilot Tommy Kinard, who'd gotten his start at Buck's own damn station. Who knew both Chimney and Hen when they were probies, and who watched Bobby walk in and turn the place into a house Tommy could be proud to be part of. Who had been their air support during the Doheny Park gas leak incident.

"That was you?" Buck glances down at the bar counter to make sure it hadn't cracked when his jaw hit it. "Chimney told us afterwards he'd called in a favor from an old friend."

Tommy grins and jauntily points to himself with his glass. "Except Howie was cashing in on a favor I owed him, which means I only owe him like 973 more now."

Over a round of drinks—another Maximator for Buck and a seltzer with lime for Tommy—Buck tells Tommy about who's at the 118 now and confirms which of "the most batshit insane stories I've heard about you guys" are true. He tells Tommy about the rollercoaster ride that was his recovery from the explosion, and then follows that up with being caught in the tsunami and being struck by lightning. In return, Tommy regales him with army stories, including the time he landed a burning helicopter under enemy fire, and his favorite calls from his time with the 118—the fucking rooster has Buck practically crying laughing into his arms. He also tells Buck about Hen's fearlessness in standing up to their asshole captain who was voted the LAFD's Most Likely To Have Been At The White House On January 6th, and how Chimney saved Tommy's literal life. He tells Buck that without Bobby showing up and making them into a family of sorts, without him being in their corner even when they didn't trust him not to abandon them like all their other captains, Tommy never would've found his way back to the sky.

Then Tommy gleefully drops a pipe bomb into the scant space between them with, "And you never would've joined the 118."

Buck squeezes his eyes shut to try and make his brain stop feeling so swimmy. "W-What? What does that mean?" His tongue is too big for his mouth. His words taste a bit funny, like they're mushy. He hopes Tommy hasn't noticed.

"You said you joined in 2017. That's when I left," Tommy says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I'm pretty sure you were the one who took my spot."

Buck untucks one of his arms so he can reach up to touch the hills and valleys running down Tommy's cheeks, then realizes that probably would be rude and tries to play it off like he was going to scratch the back of his own head. All he does is knock over one of his empty glasses. It takes a few clumsy tries before he successfully stands it back up.

"We missed each other," Buck mumbles. He thinks of what it might have been like walking into the station that day, seeing Tommy sitting between Hen and Chimney, smiling wide as he dished up more spaghetti. Maybe he would've turned that warm light on Buck as he passed him the tongs. Maybe Tommy would've shown him the ropes, got him through his first shifts, and even stopped him from stealing the engine for a booty call. Maybe they'd have met up for drinks just like this after their shifts were over, or as a way to distract themselves from bad calls the way Tommy's distracted Buck all night. Maybe they'd have been a two-man unit, and then when Eddie showed up they'd be a tri...something. Buck can't remember what it's called, but it means 'three'. Maybe Tommy would've been every bit as important to Buck as Eddie, Hen, and Chim.

He's hit with the realization that if he doesn't tell Tommy this, he might die, so he garbles out, "You're important. W-Wait, no. I mean, you could've... you were important... I—y'get the gist."

And Tommy must, because Tommy's smart and quick witted and a good listener, and he's looking at Buck fondly, like he might've done if he'd stayed at the 118 and they'd come through fire together, but he's also rolling his lips inward and his cheeks are trembling.

Buck whines, aggravated, because, "Y-You're laughing at me."

Tommy ducks his head and does, in fact, start laughing.

"'s so rude. Don't laugh at me, 's not my fault I'm defective." Buck buries his face in his arms in embarrassment. The cradle of it is so warm and comfortable he just stays there.

"You're not defective, Evan." Even though it sounds like Tommy's suddenly on the other side of the room, Buck can hear the matter-of-factness in the words. He says it like he'd said that sucks. "But you are drunk."

He's not. He's just really tired and his arms make for a great pillow. He also feels heavy and tight, which isn't good for a firefighter. What if he's called onto a massive scene? What if City Hall's on fire and he can't pull the mayor out because he's slow and weirdly full? What if his career as a firefighter is over?

"That's just bloat from all the beer and sausage," Tommy says from even farther away than he'd been a second ago. "Jay, can I settle up? I'm so sorry we kept you this late. You're getting a helluva tip, I promise."

His name's not Jay. It's Buck. But he'd introduced himself as Evan and... forgot to tell Tommy he goes by something else. But he likes that Tommy doesn't know that, because when Tommy says 'Evan' it sounds like how 'Buck' feels. He wants Tommy to keep 'Evan' in the warmth of his mouth, like how some alligators carry their young. For them, it's the safest place to be.

Buck wants to tell Tommy about the alligators, because they are super cool and only exist in two places in the whole world. He blinks his eyes open and finds his face pressed to something hard and cool. The bar stool feels a lot softer than it did a second ago. And it's vibrating.

There's a weight on his knee, shaking it gently.

He must've fallen asleep while watching Celebrity Death Match in the TV room again. Mom's going to kill him when she finds out. "Mads, five m're min's."

"Evan, you need to give me a building number."

"Hmmm...?"

"Your apartment building. I've been driving up and down South Spring for ten minutes. You gotta help me out here. What's your building number?"

"Mmm..." Buck rolls his forehead to chase the coolness. It feels so nice against his skin. He could just sink right into it.

"Evan, c'mon. You can do it. Tell me where you live."

"27 P'plar Road," he mumbles. He blinks his eyes open and catches sight of the rush of lights and road ahead, which blend together like they're about to jump into hyperspace. He's not in Hershey. He knows this road. Sighing, he closes his eyes again. "Oh. 's rowing. 409 at th' rowing."

He blinks awake when he suddenly trips over nothing, and he tries to stop himself from falling but there's nothing except the gaping maw of open space. But he doesn't actually go anywhere. Someone's got an arm around his waist. There's a name for that kind of rude awakening. He can't remember it.

"Two more stairs," the person with him mutters in his ear. "I'm begging you, lift up your feet before we both end up in the ER."

That's fine. He has his own bed there.

"Yeah, let's try to get you into the bed you have here first."

Strong hands lower him onto something soft, and he buries his face in sheets that are cool and smell familiar, his entire body smoothing out like the surface of a lake. Something tugs at his foot, and he rolls onto his back and tries to lift his leg to help, but he's comfy and cocooned in the dark. His sneakers get taken off anyway.

"Evan." Tommy's voice hangs in the air, soft and warm and invisible, and his name sounds like it's precious where it sits in Tommy's mouth. He read somewhere that alligators do that. "I'm going to get you some water and then head out. Do you need anything else?"

In the dark, he somehow lost his body, and he can barely see the outline of Tommy, but he can hear him step closer when Buck reaches out for him. When Buck's hand is caught, he's suddenly so aware of himself, of his blood and bones and every nerve trapped under his skin, and arches a little into the feeling with a quiet moan of relief.

Tommy knows about him. He knows Buck's cells are defective and he still bought Buck dinner and spent the night making him feel like he was made correctly from the start.

"D'nt go," he whispers. He's starting to float away, and he tugs on the hand holding his, trying to bring that steadfast presence on top of him, use it to keep him here. "Stay."

"I absolutely can't do that," Tommy murmurs. His thumb strokes over Buck's palm and it feels like he's dragging his tongue along the length of a nerve. Buck gasps. Something pulls tight and sweet between his legs, and he tilts his head back on the pillow, lips parting so he can suck in air desperately. So he's ready.

"Kiss me," he breathes.

He wants it so bad he almost gags. He wants all that weight and strength to hang over him like a bough, keeping him together, feeding his body what it's screaming for. He inhales deeply and the smell of indelible man fills his nose and the back of his throat, along with the faint hint of smoke and something sharp like snow. He wants a mouth on his. He wants strong, sure hands to run over his ribs. He wants to say I'm full of broken cells and I need you to fill me up with something better, but he's breathing too hard and the words keep blowing out of order. His legs slide open and the sound of them moving on the sheets is deafening. He's so hot, and so hungry. He thinks he's hard. He thinks he's dying.

The hand in his squeezes gently, but then it lets go.

Without it, Buck's going to dissolve. He's going to disappear. He squeezes his burning, wet eyes shut and pulls in a breath that is all wheeze, every part of him a live wire, unsteady and shivering and thwarted. So they made one.

"No. No," Buck sobs. "Y're just like them. You don't want me—no one... why. 's not fair."

The bed suddenly dips right next to Buck's thigh, right on the edge, and the hot press of a thumb against his chin stops him from howling his sorrow and disappointment. When it slides up and just barely brushes against his bottom lip, his mouth falls open. Yes. Yes.

"I'll tell you what." It's whispered so closely that Buck thinks he can feel the wash of breath over his tongue. "You remember any of this tomorrow? Call me, and I'll kiss you as much as you want. I'll kiss the idea you're unwanted right out of you."

Buck exhales in utter relief and sinks into the comfort of the bed as the weight next to him lifts away. He's going to do that. He's going to call and then let Tommy kiss him until he forgets he was ever unloved. But persistence pays off, so he tries one more time, even though he's suddenly so tired he can barely get the word out. "Stay."

"Sleep well, Evan."

+

When Buck wakes up, he immediately wants to crawl into a hole and die. His mouth tastes like there's roadkill in it and there's an egg beater trying to escape his skull by way of his left eye. Whimpering, he tries to bury his face into the pillow but half of it is wet with drool, so he reaches up and throws the stupid thing on the floor. His mattress is comfy. He can just plant his face there and suffocate, no problem.

He has no idea how he got home last night, which is terrifying. Everything after the third Augustiner is a bit hazy. He was talking to some guy who made him laugh, he knows that much. His mind conjures bits and pieces of his mysterious drinking companion: a wide, white grin; large hands; a voice he can hear the cadence and depth of but can't remember a single word it said. After that, he's got nothing.

It takes a few tries to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth and he rolls onto his side to put his back to where the sun is starting to filter through the curtains. The move puts the nightstand right in his line of sight, and when his vision focuses, he pauses.

There's a glass with water on top of it, but it's not the cup he usually chooses. It's one of the textured acrylic ones he picked out when he moved in that he absolutely hates using. Even though they're impossible to break, he feels like he's ten years old when he's forced to drink out of one. All that's missing is a sippy-cup lid.

Although he has to hand it to himself: the acrylic cup was a pretty solid idea, considering he might've knocked a real glass onto the floor sometime in the night and then cut himself when it shattered. Chimney forced Buck to watch Die Hard last year and it was a fun movie, but Buck has no desire to recreate the "shoot the glass" scene.

He slides his face a little closer to the edge of the bed so he can find his phone. It's sitting on the top of the nightstand, plugged in, which is almost as surprising as the acrylic cup. He never remembers to plug his phone in when he's sober, but there it is, charging away. His wallet and keys are also laying next to it. It's such a neat and tidy tableau that, for a second, he thinks he's still asleep and this is one of those dreams where only one or two things is out of place and he spends the entire dream wondering if he's dreaming.

If he were dreaming, though, he wouldn't feel like hard-boiled ass, so someone else had been here and got him squared away. Maybe he called Eddie for a ride home? Buck reaches for his phone and his fingers brush up against the edge of a piece of paper. A receipt? Maybe he took a taxi instead.

Buck squints at it, and he has every intention of grabbing it to look for clues, but he ends up dozing for almost two hours. By the time he wakes up, the sun has invaded every part of the loft, but he doesn't feel so much like he's about to slip this mortal coil. He'll take the wins where he can.

It only takes a minute or two of psyching himself up before he's able to roll into something resembling sitting, and after that he gives himself five minutes to drop his head into his hands and regret his life choices. Once he promises God, the Devil, Zeus, and the purple laser ghost of Prince that he will never drink to such excess again as long as he lives, he finally looks over at the nightstand where his phone is.

It's been set to Do Not Disturb, which is nice. It's not something he ever does, because he's afraid he'll miss something important, and when he turns it off the screen fills with dozens of missed calls and texts from Maddie and Chimney. He takes great pleasure in dismissing all of them. Nothing from his parents, of course. There's also one from Eddie asking if everything's okay because "Chim called me asking if I'd heard from you and he sounds like he's about to start climbing the walls using only his teeth."

It's followed by a text that reads "Bobby says to take your time coming in. What happened?"

He taps open the message to reply when he glances up and sees the receipt on the nightstand. Abandoning his phone in favor of learning just how much he spent on a DD, he learns it wasn't a taxi at all. It's a note written in an unfamiliar hand on a small piece of drafting paper.

Your car is parked at the Red Lion. Jay said it was OK to leave it there because you weren't in any shape to drive.

Underneath that is a phone number, and underneath that is a single line: Remember—as much as you want. But only if you want.

It's signed "TK".

Baffled, Buck brings a fist to his mouth, because he's not sure what else to do, and when his thumbnail presses against his bottom lip, something hot and shivery pops low in his belly. It's how he realizes he's got to pee so bad he's going to wet the bed if he waits any longer.

After he pisses for what feels like an eternity, downs four Advil, showers the sweat and shame off, he stumbles back up the stairs feeling wrung out but definitely more human. Once he's in a pair of clean boxers, he surveys the room.

There was a stranger here last night, but it doesn't look like anything's missing. He checks his wallet, but all his cards and cash are still there. His sneakers were neatly placed against the wall, out of the way where he wouldn't trip on them if he got up during the night. And there's of course his phone, fully charged for once, and the note.

He sits on the edge of his bed and reads the note four more times. Then he looks up the Red Lion's operating hours, but it doesn't open for two more hours.

Which leaves him with the number and As much as you want. But only if you want.

His mind immediately takes a swan dive into the gutter. It's probably not meant to be as sexual as it reads, but... he's not sure how else he's supposed to take it. TK's blocky penmanship reveals nothing.

Maybe after he was done talking to the guy at the bar he met some woman? Maybe she was the one to take him home, although considering how drunk he must've been, it couldn't have been an easy feat. That she didn't help herself to his money and was thoughtful enough to plug his phone in and get him a glass of water really warrants a thank you.

He looks down at the phone number.

He grabs his phone—100%, what an absolutely wild concept—and taps in the number, double checking it like four times while his finger hovers over the CALL button like an anvil.

What the hell. He's got nothing left to lose.

He taps CALL and brings the phone to his ear. It takes two rings before someone picks up.

"Hello?"

Not a woman. Buck sits up so straight they could use his spine as an I-beam level.

"Uh, h-hey," he stutters, looking around his room, trying to divine any lingering atoms this person might've left behind. "Um, I think you—I have a note with this number on it and—"

Thankfully, the mysterious "TK" stops Buck before he gets a good ramble going, his voice friendly as he breaks in with, "Evan! Hey. Glad to hear the Maximator couldn't keep you down for long. How're you feeling this morning?"

Buck's entire body goes warm as it relaxes from its ramrod-straight pose. "I, uh, a little confused. I don't remember getting home, but I guess I have you to thank for that." Buck pauses. "So, thank you."

"Well, you didn't make it easy." TK laughs, and it shivers down the line right into Buck's ear canal. "It took me a lot longer to figure out you were saying 'Rowan' and not 'rowing' than I care to admit, but we got there in the end. Your place is insane. Did you get a signing bonus when you joined the 118 or something?"

Buck blinks. An image of Bobby winning a fight against a rooster comes winging out of the back of his mind. "That—that's right. You're a firefighter. Uh, do you really fly with Harbor One or am I making that up?"

"You made me promise four times to give you lessons," TK says warmly. "I had to stop you from slicing your palm open so we could shake on it."

Ducking his head with a helpless chuckle, Buck nods, even though TK can't see him. "Yeah, that, uh, sounds like something I'd do. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I'd love to take you up."

He doesn't know how he got lucky enough that the person he made a fool out of himself in front of was one of the chosen few who are able to handle The Full Buck without too much of a fuss, but he's so grateful for it. They're a rare breed.

"Anytime you want, just tell me when."

Buck's gaze immediately shoots to the piece of paper he's still clutching in his other hand, and for no reason he can think of his heart rate picks up. His cheeks start tingling with blossoming warmth.

He curls a little into himself, cupping the phone closer to his mouth. "I-Is that what you meant in your note?"

There's a little pause on the line, and then when TK's voice comes back, it's softer. "No. That's not what I meant."

Buck swallows a mouthful of saliva and asks, just as softly, "What does 'TK' stand for?"

"Tommy Kinard."

Exhaling a shaky breath, Buck's eyes fall closed. He thinks of cool sheets under him, and feeling heavy and safe in the dark. His belly clenches with something like hunger. He bites his bottom lip and then licks it.

"... Evan? You still there?"

He doesn't know why his body feels like it's being pulled in a million different directions, or why the first thing he thought of when Tommy said "Evan" was baby alligators, but he does know this: on the worst day of Buck's life, Tommy Kinard made it easier to bear. He kept Buck company, kept him distracted, and then kept him safe.

I told you not to go, he thinks out of nowhere.

"Look, Evan, it's completely fine, and I promise I won't be offended if you don't want—"

Evan Buckley was born to fix someone else. He has defective cells and has never once been enough for anyone, and that sucks. But he's still here and this life is his whether it was meant to be or not, and he does want.

Buck opens his eyes.

"Hey, so, what are you doing Saturday?"

[7seas-of-ryy]

Come Back To Me

Author’s Note: Italics are flashbacks! Grumpy x Sunshine! No shenanigans in this one! I'm sorry!

Summary: You had always been the positive one in the IC but one mission can change everything. Set during the war with Hybern!

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of torture, let me know if I need to add any others :)

"Hey, I brought you something to eat." Azriel barely whispered as he entered your room.

You looked his way but said nothing, then turned your head back to what you were looking at. The view of the city from your room was always gorgeous, but now it was just something to for you to stare at while you struggled to get through the days.

Disappointment flooded the shadowsinger when you made no move to grab the food.

It had been months of this. Months of him trying to get you back to how you used to be. It seemed you made no improvement but he still tried.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

"Azzzzzz" You called out in a sing-song voice.

"What now?" He grumbled out.

He was trying to do work, frustrated he couldn't find a solution for Rhysand. And being holed up in the library was not helping his mood.

"You have to try this! I picked it up at the bakery and it is delicious!" You told him with pure excitement, not letting his attitude alter your mood.

You never let anyone get in the way of your mood. Happiness seemed to be easy for you. Glass half full was definitely how you viewed life. Azriel envied that.

Without waiting for a reply from the male, you held up the pastry to his mouth.

"I can feed myself." He spoke and gave you a look.

Instead of replying, you put the pastry in his face again. He rolled his eyes yet took a bite of the treat.

It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. His eyes immediately shut and groaned. That was what you loved, seeing these small moments where he wasn’t worried about saving everyone.

You could see the frustration fade from his face, replaced by awe of how amazing the baked good was.

"You can have the rest! I'll get out of your hair so you can get back to work. Oh! I almost forgot, I also got you this coffee, let me know if you need any help!" You told him as you made your way to the exit.

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The spymaster felt useless. It seemed there was nothing he could do for you... until an idea came to him.

He got to the bakery as fast as possible and bought the same pastry that you had bought him all those years ago. He grabbed himself a coffee and made his way back to you.

After knocking on your door to let you know he was coming in, he walked over to you.

"Guess what I got you!" He said with a smile, "Its one of those pastries that you love so much!"

He held it in front of you and you didn't even look his way.

Suddenly his apetite was gone. He didn't think it was possible for his heart to hurt anymore than it currently did. He kissed the top of your head and let you be.

Without another thought, he went to find Rhys.

"Help her. I don't care what you have to do, help her right now." Az pleaded.

"You know I can't do that. She hasn't asked me to and I don't do that without consent." Rhys told him.

"This is all your fault! You should have stopped her! Forbid her from using herself as a distraction! She is a shell of herself because of you!" Az was now shouting, letting his emotions take over.

"Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I wanted to leave her there?" Rhys shouted right back.

He was hurting from all of this too, everyone in the IC was. They had saved you and yet it seemed everyone was mourning the person you once were.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

He could hear you giggling before he saw you. As he entered his room, he saw you standing with your hands behind your back and a giant grin on your face.

Az eyed you suspiciously and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What're you doing in my room?" He questioned and his voice was rougher than he wanted it to be.

"Do you remember your leathers that ripped during the last mission we were on?" You asked the male.

He nodded his head in response, waiting for you to continue.

"I fixed them!" You said, revealing the repaired leathers that had been behind your back.

"I sewed them up and reinforced the seam!" You told him with such excitement.

His eyes softened slightly and he wanted to reach out and hug you but he couldn't let himself. He wouldn't let himself get too close to you, couldn't handle the pain of another loved one getting hurt.

"Thank you," He spoke bluntly then cleared his throat, "What were you laughing at?"

"A few of your shadows and I were just thinking about how you ripped them. I can't believe your leg slipped and you did the splits!" You let out another giggle.

He tried to fight it but a small smile made it's way to his face at your joy.

"Well, thank you again." He spoke quickly before you noticed his grin.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

He looked down at his clothes as he sat next to you in your room, there were small holes and rips all over them.

Normally you repaired them without him asking. He told you that you didn't have to but you assured him you wanted to. Now, he refused to let anyone else fix his clothes.

"Mor refuses to be seen with me in public." Azriel told you with a small laugh.

"She says I look homeless with all these rips in my clothes. But I don't care, I don't trust anyone else to sew my shirts besides you." He spoke again with a smile.

You still stayed completely still, staring at the city below. You felt hollow. It didn't matter that you were still alive, you were dead as far as you were concerned. There was no way to continue life after everything that had happened.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It was supposed to be simple, meet with Eris, gather information on Hybern and return to the Night Court. The four of you weren't expecting a trap.

As you entered the old building to meet Eris, you could sense something was off. Your suspicions were confirmed when one wrong step set off a trap. Arrows, ash wood arrows shot out from all directions. Luckily you weren't hit by any. Two hit Rhys, one in his shoulder and one in his wing. One hit Feyre in her leg. And four...four hit Azriel; two in his wings, one in his side and one in his leg.

You ran to Az to help him, seeing he had the worst wounds.

"Hey hey, you're ok. I'm going to get you home and we can heal you up, ok?" You told him, giving him a smile that didn't reach your eyes. You forced your tears away, not willing to let him think you were worried.

He loved that smile. He was dying and yet all he could think about was how much your smile meant to him.

As you were trying to break the arrows so you could pull them out of him, you noticed his face pale. And then you heard it, Hybern's soldiers.

The trap must have alerted them and they would be here any minute.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Rhys had told Az that you drank a few sips of water and ate a tiny bit. As soon as he got the news, he was running to your room. You hadn't responded to anyone at all yet but he seemed to be filled with a new hope.

So, he sat here talking to you and couldn't keep a smile off his face.

"I heard you got some food down, I'm proud of you." He gently offered his words.

He stayed with you for the rest of the day, talking to you about any and everything. He had never spoken so much in his life.

Months passed after that with no more improvements in your condition, it seemed you would never get better. He knew he fell in love with you no matter how hard he tried to stop it, so he fought like hell to hold onto whatever hope he had.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

You dragged Az with all your strength over to Rhys and Feyre. She seemed to be doing ok despite the arrow still sticking out of her thigh. She had pulled the arrows out of Rhys but he was still very hurt.

"Are you ok to winnow?" You asked Rhys.

"I think so, but I won't be able to carry all three of you." He spoke through pained breaths.

"You don't need to. Just get Feyre and Az out of here." You commanded your High Lord.

You knew that if they stayed, you would all be dead. Rhys couldn't carry all of you in his condition, you just hoped he would listen to what you told him to do.

"What? No, how will you get out?" Azriel whispered from the ground.

"I have a plan." You told him.

"You three can't fight, you will die if you stay here. Winnow them out and get Az to a healer." You told Rhys through your mind.

He seemed to be going back and forth in his head, trying to figure out a different way. He gave you a weary look.

"There's no other way. I'll be ok, you have to go now. They're almost here." You added.

The soldiers came running in, ready to attack. You ran right at them, fighting them so they couldn’t get to the other three. You could hear Az screaming to stay as Rhys grabbed him and winnowed out.

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He had been drunk for three days straight at this point. He welcomed the numbness after all the agony he has felt. Once it was night time, he made his way to your room and sat down outside of your door to sleep, just like he did every night in case you needed him.

In the morning, Feyre passed by your door. Az was still asleep and smelled of booze.

She quietly snuck past him and went into your room.

"Hey, I'm not sure what to say or do to help you. But I wanted to let you know how hard Azriel is trying. I mean...you know that but I just want you to realize how much he loves you. How much we all love you. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about what happened, I wish it had been me instead... but you need to know that Azriel is drowning. He is drowning without you. I have never seen him like this and I think we might lose him for good. If you don't have the strength to fight for yourself, please… fight for him." Feyre pleaded with you.

You didn't respond but what she said stuck with you. You had tried everything but it didn't matter, you couldn't find the strength to help yourself. Maybe it would be easier to find strength for the one you love.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

"We just got word. Y/N is alive and we have her location." Rhys spoke quickly.

Azriel shot up from his spot, getting his weapons ready instantly.

As soon as everyone was set, they left to rescue you. After a couple hours, they found you. You were bloody and bruised all over, chained up. Tears welled up in Azriel's eyes but he focused on saving you. He flew you home and you showed Rhys everything.

Rhys saw how you were tortured, starved, and beat every day. He saw how they questioned you about the Night Court and you never gave up anything. You were held captive for three months…he wasn’t sure how you survived.

After they saved you and found out everything you went through, Azriel helped you bathe. You never talked, just nodded or shook your head and you never looked up. He was so grateful you were safe and back with them but he sure did miss your smile.

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It was a beautiful morning, you sat watching the orange and pink sky as the city woke up. There was a knock at the door and Az walked in. He didn’t speak as he set a tray of breakfast foods and coffee down. You didn’t even look over at him but not because you were still checked out. No, this time it was because you couldn’t pull your eyes from the beauty of the sunrise.

You aren’t exactly sure why but you felt something crack inside of you, this was the first time since you were taken that you felt something positive. It was the first time you wanted to live to see these pink and orange hues again.

When Azriel looked over at you he realized there were tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Are you ok?! What’s wrong!?” He panicked, checking everywhere for threats.

“It’s beautiful.” You choked out in between sobs, pointing at the sunrise.

He let out a breath he had been holding in and visibly relaxed. He sat next to you and pulled you close. You leaned into him and he put his arm around you. Neither of you talked, just enjoyed watching the sky come to life in front of you.

He looked down at you after some time had passed and saw the faintest smile on your face. It was barely there but he saw it and that was all that mattered.

“It’s breathtaking.” Azriel stated.

You shook your head in agreement, but what you didn’t know was that he wasn’t talking about the view, he was talking about you.

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“Please please please!” You begged Azriel.

“You woke me up at 4am to watch the sunrise?!” He mumbled with a look of irritation on his face.

“You have to see it! I promise it’ll be worth it!” You continued to beg.

“Fine but I’m not going to be happy about it.” He grunted as he got out of bed, following you to the balcony.

You pulled him down next to you, the pure excitement and adoration you had for something as simple as a sunrise made the spymaster’s heart clench.

The both of you sat and watched the sunrise and you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Isn’t it so beautiful?” You asked him without taking your eyes from the sky.

“It really is.” He responded without taking his eyes from you.

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[chaysreality222]

‧₊˚ ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.✧˖ °

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . 𝐈 𝐒𝓗𝐈𝐅𝓣𝐄𝐃 𝓑𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝓞 𝓐𝐍 𝓤𝐍𝓚𝐍𝓞𝐖𝐍 𝓡𝐄𝐀𝓛𝐈𝐓𝓨 . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

i'm beyond happy to be making a post like this. as you can tell by the title, I'VE SHIFTED! but the catch is i shifted to some unknown reality. still extremely proud of myself and happy, but there's just an ounce of disappointment that it wasn't one of my scripted drs. i've been waiting to tell you guys about it, so let's get into it!

the night of june 24th, 2024, i had chose to take the night off from attempting to shift and just sleep because the previous night i had already attempted to shift through my lucid dream. i fell asleep on accident and woke up at least once, and then fell back asleep.

i fell into a dream where something personal had happened where it caused me to be really sad. to set the setting, it was extremely late at night and i had been coming home. i needed to shower especially to get my mind off things. i checked my phone that was on the bathroom counter before my shower and it switched from 1:30 something am to 3:33 am.

This is when i became lucid. tmi my armpits were extremely unkept. (i feel like this was my dream showing me an insecurity of mine bc i had just waxed and was afraid of the hair growing back weird omg. but after i had stopped feeling insecure and told myself that it's just a dream and it's not like that irl, it went back to normal).

after that moment was passed, i was so exhausted and as i was showering i decided to sit down for a second on the ground of the tub. i was so tired and sad that in my mind i was thinking about how i wanted to just shift so badly. didn't matter what reality it was, i just needed it at that moment.

i laid my head back on the wall of the tub, then my eyes started to drift closed. i started to experience shifting symptoms from inside the lucid dream. there was flashing lights i saw through my eyelids, i felt a sense of floating, numbness accompanied by tingles down my body, and the room felt like it was spinning.

i naturally had woken up. (i'd say i just opened my eyes but it felt like i had woken up like any other time i've ever woken up in my original reality). i noticed i shifted! i didn't even question it, because i didn't have to. just as we are right now, wherever you are reading this, that's how real and natural everything was. you know for a fact you aren't dreaming right now, this is reality. that's the closest way of how i could explain how i knew i shifted.

my surroundings hadn't changed though. it was still the same bathroom setting like i had been in like that dream which i found to be an exact replica of my original reality (or) bathroom. the lights were off but candles had been placed around the bathroom to create this peaceful ambience. it was really nice. i felt the hot water running down my skin as it hit the top of my head, as well as the steam. i could also feel the tiles of the wall and the tub beneath my bare feet.

i also didn't feel the immense sadness and heaviness i was experiencing in my dream anymore. you know when you woke up from being scared or sad in the dream, and you feel a sense of relief because it wasn't real? that's the feeling i had been feeling but also happiness and curiosity from me shifting.

as i was just standing in the water and taking it all in, that's when the ounce of disappointment hit me that i shifted to some place but my actual scripted drs. in which i understand you can shift to unscripted places, but you guys get what i'm saying. i guess it's my fault for not focusing on any of my drs and instead hoping for any reality possible. (please don't take the disappointment i had felt to any offense! i'm extremely happy i shifted, just wish it was to my waiting room dr, etc). but hey, i shifted and that is what matters!

then i decided to shift back! i had no reason of staying there any longer and a part of me didn't want to get out of the shower and open that bathroom door. since it was a random reality, i didn't want to mess around and find out.

i was ready to go back to my or! and even though i had been thinking about my or, i didn't just shift back like i always thought i would or was always afraid of happening when i had shifted to say my hogwarts dr. it was just like every other thought i've had about my drs here! just because you or i think about our drs during the day here, doesn't mean we will just be pulled out of this reality and shifted over there. i hope i'm making sense, but i'm sure you guys understand what i'm saying.

anyway, i set the intention to shift back to my or and said my safeword as i closed my eyes. it's hard to explain but i could feel my consciousness shifting back to my or? then i had woken up back in my or! i checked the time and it was around 4 am on june 25, 2024. i believe i had been in my dr for a total of at least 8-10 minutes. i couldn't believe i had just shifted realities, but i was also dead tired. so i went back to sleep! but i have to say throughout that day, i was exhausted and still processing my shifting experience. so exhausted, i didn't really have the motivation to do much of anything.

first of all, thanks to those of you keeping up with my shifting journey and never failing to continue motivating me. it means a lot to be apart of this community of caring and helpful people <3 next stop is my waiting room dr! also a quick question to the experienced shifters out there, does dealing with the exhaustion after shifting get easier? thanks! as always, happy shifting!

xoxo, c!

[doitforbangchan]

Little Tease - Bangchan

This is a request by the lovely @softkisshyunjin who wanted Chan rizzing up stay and then getting teased my reader <3 I hope it's everything you hoped for my dear

This is soooo delulu, please do NOT do what reader does here :)

Masterlist

Not proofread :)

Idol!Chan x Fan!reader (afab)

Warnings: Smut, protected p in v, kissing, fingering, masterbation, spitting in mouth, dom! chan, sub! reader, condescending! Chan, he is kind of a cocky jerk here lol

WC: 3k

MDNI 18+

He was an absolute menace. Chan knew exactly what he was doing, sending those messages out for Stay on bubble. You could imagine him kicking his feet like a schoolgirl while sending them out. You guessed it was his favorite pastime, considering every message got more and more teasing. Asking Stay to come over and he would send the address if they were to ask. And that he would even come to us. Yeah right. 

You figured why not try to tease him back? It wasn’t like he would even respond so what was the harm? You decided to send one yourself. 

‘Big talk for someone with no balls, Christopher. We all know you won’t show up.’ that had you cackling, wanting to send more, maybe make it a little flirty. 

‘Its a real shame too, I just know how you would throw me around if you were here.’ 

‘Oh well, guess I’ll have to take care of myself.’ 

That one made you feel a little bold. Before you stop your impulsive thoughts you sent him a picture of you in your bra and panties, and attached your address. Now it was you who was giggling like a schoolgirl. Even if he would never see them you still found it entertaining. It was the only chance you would ever get to tease him back, so who cares? 

It had been 4 days since the messages you sent back on bubble. Honestly you had forgotten it even happened, putting into the back of your mind since you knew nothing would come from it. You had assumed, anyway. 

It was a Friday night around 10:30  and you were just getting back home from a very disappointing first date. You had been set up through a mutual friend so you decided to give it a shot. Unfortunately he turned out to be like every other guy you had been out with recently; pompous and self absorbed. The guy only talked about how great he thought he was, and how any woman would be out of her mind not to fall at his feet. He gave you the ick right away, but you figured you would get free food out of it so whatever. 

You had just closed the door after letting yourself inside,  flipping on the light and barely able to get off your shoes when a knock on your door alarmed you. ‘Who would be at my door so late?’ With your heel in hand like a weapon you slowly creaked the door open just a smidge, keeping the chain locked. 

It was hard to see who it was, the man standing there had a black beanie and a face mask covering their mouth. 

“Are you Y/n?” They asked, voice sounding eerily familiar. 

“Depends who's asking?” You replied, with a touch of snark.

The stranger laughed quietly, again it sounded very familiar to you but you couldn’t place it. 

“Oh just someone who apparently has no balls.” 

Oh my fucking god no way. 

“C-chris?” Fuck why did you stutter 

“The one and only.” He pulled down his mask enough for you to see the bottom half of his face. 

“What are you doing here?” You were so shocked at seeing the idol, your bias no less, at your doorstep, but you still unlatched the chain on your door. 

Chris leaned against the door frame when you opened it wider, giving your body a quick look over, seeing you in your skimpy dress, then coming back to your eyes. “You told me too, even sent me your address.” He smirked at you when the realization dawned on your face. “Can I come in?” 

You hastily stepped aside to let him in. As if you would ever deny him. Chris stepped in and closed the door behind him, then secured the top lock. He glanced around the living room of your apartment, before his eyes found your nervous body standing before him and ringing your hands. 

You could barely breathe, having him so close, in your home no less, was the craziest thing to ever happen to you. So far. 

“Umm w-would you like a drink or something?” The nerves were still racking through you. 

“Sure. Thank you.” 

You nodded and scurried your way to your kitchen, pulling out a few options. Did he like wine? Or maybe he was a sparkling cider kind of guy? You were about to turn and ask him his preference when you felt a presence behind you, a breath on your neck. Not just any presence, it was Chris. 

“You know,” he began, “ that was quite a naughty thing to do. Sending those pics to a man you don’t know and attaching your address.” His fingers lightly brushed your hair away from the side of your neck and you felt him lean on closer. He could feel your breath catch in your throat at his actions. “And telling me I have no balls, if you weren’t so damn pretty I might have let that slide. Unfortunately I am not a strong enough man to resist a pretty little minx who needs to be put in her place.” His voice was getting raspier as he spoke. 

‘He called me pretty!’ The way you focused on that statement was unhealthy, the simple words filling you with a desire for this man you had never felt. Then the other half of his words caught up with you. 

“Put me in my place?” 

“Mmhmm.” Chris hummed and put his hands on your waist, quickly spinning you around to face him as he pushed you up against the counter in your kitchen. You let out a squeak at the sudden force. “Seeing you in those frilly little panties did something to me. I’ve never felt this ravenous for a fan before.  There is something special about you y/n. Will you let me show you?” He held a deep gaze on your eyes, asking for your consent. 

It was an easy answer, “Yes Chris of course.” 

As soon as you answered he put his lips directly on yours, a clash of teeth and spit. It felt like he was trying to consume you with the way he kissed you, tongue wasting no time before shoving itself into your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to be closer. This felt like a fever dream, but you weren't one to look a gift horse in the mouth so you would let him take all he wanted from you. 

Chris tightened his grip on your hips and lifted you to sit on the counter that was behind you. His hands were warm as they ran up your thighs, slipping under your dress. You let out a quiet whimper when he made contact. He was so close yet not close enough. 

“Don’t be shy, now. You weren’t shy when you sent me those pics huh? What happened to that girl?” He pulled back enough to smirk at you, giving a bite to your lip as he went. You couldn’t find your words, too enthralled by him to form a sentence. At your silence he tutted in mock disappointment and let his mouth fall to your neck, mouthing at the skin there and laughing when you moaned. “Tell me sweet thing, why did you tease me like that?” 

“I-i didn’t think you would see it.” you squealed when he nipped at your neck. “ You w-were being the tease, Chris.” 

“You’re right, baby, I was being mean wasn't I?” He let his fingers find the side seams on your panties, hooking his thumbs under the fabric. “I was riling up my poor stays, they don’t deserve that, do they?” He was cooing at you, almost making fun of you.

 Had this been any other man you wouldn’t have taken his menial words and demeanor. But this wasn’t any other guy, this was Bangchan. This was the man you’ve thirsted after for years.Someone you thought would never even know you existed. And for some reason you didn’t mind the way he talked to you. If anything it felt good. Felt like you were letting go of your inhibitions and letting this man, who obviously you don’t know- but it almost felt like you did know him. You had been following his group and him for so long. 

“No, t-they didn’t deserve i-it.” You could not stop stuttering, nor could you catch your breath. 

“Should I atone for that, sweetheart?” His thumbs were slowly pulling down your underwear, so slowly you almost didn’t register it at all. “Should I make up for it right now, with you? With my precious stay?” 

Once your panties were slipped down enough that they dropped off onto the floor, he paused his movements as if waiting for an answer. It took you a moment to gather yourself enough to answer. 

“Yes, please use me to make it up. Please, Channie.” 

That seemed to set him off, his fingers going to your core and finding your clit with ease. You let out a whimper at the contact, hips raising to get even closer. You could feel his mouth back on your neck, sucking the skin and surely leaving hickeys. Reminders that this is real. 

Chris hummed into you as he let the digits find your opening and flick up and down, sloshing through your wetness. You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed though. “Do you want my fingers, sweetheart?” He still had that condescending tone, knowing damn well you wanted them. He just wanted to hear you say it. There had always been speculation that Chan was a dominant guy in bed, at least now you could confirm that for yourself. 

“Mmhmm please.” you nodded rapidly. 

He wasted no time in pushing his two fingers into your heat, the thickness of them stretching your walls. You let out a throaty moan, the intrusion feeling delicious. So good it almost made you forget this was all happening on your kitchen counter. Almost. 

“Chris.” you panted, trying to get his attention by tapping on the shoulders you were gripping. 

“Hm?” he mumbled while pistoning his fingers inside you, adding another one as he made the sound. 

You were nervous to ask, but figured it was worth a try. “Can- can we maybe take this to my bedroom?” 

He hummed as if thinking about it, then without a word, he scooped you up into his arms. You pointed in the direction of your room and the man headed that way without a struggle. He didn’t even seem to be straining while holding you, his strength coming in clutch. 

Chris went through the door you pointed to and unceremoniously dropped you on your bed. The sight of you; panting and glassy eyed, dress riding up your hips to expose your cunt to him, made him harder than he cared to admit- the tightness in his pants becoming too much to ignore. 

You really were an exquisite beauty. He knew the second he laid eyes on your form in that picture you sent that he would somehow have to find his way here to you. He would never admit it but the thought had been plaguing him for days. Fuck, the man flew across the world for this. Luckily it hadn’t been in vain, as you seemed to want him as much as he wants you. 

Chris’s gaze felt scrutinizing, as if every twitch you emitted was being memorized by him. Little did you know it was exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t one to fuck around with fans (he left that for Hyunjin and Jeongin) but he was enjoying himself and wanted to commit this to his memory. 

“Tell me, sweetheart,” He drawled out as his hand went to the tent that was present in his pants, “Am I your bias? Have you thought about me like this before?” You couldn’t meet his stare, giving yourself away to him without having to say anything. “Hmm I am huh? I would have thought with the way you act online maybe you would have preferred maybe Lee Know to be here making a mess of you. Or even Seungmin.” You rapidly shook your head in protest to his words. “No? So you don’t want me to leave you here and call one of my boys to come help you instead?” 

He was being patronizing but you still answered earnestly “No please! Only want you!” You don’t know what you would do if he left right now, you were so needy for him you had started to cry. 

“You only want me?” He pointed to himself, grinning when you nodded. “Prove it. Show me what you do to yourself when you think of me.” 

His stare was menacing, almost challenging. He wanted to see if you would follow his orders. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights, scared and frozen. Chris wondered if maybe he was taking it too far with you, but was mistaken when you laid flat on your bed and your fingers nervously trailed down your exposed thighs and to your wet entrance. 

You both let out a whimper when your fingers entered your hole, the slick sounds resonating in the room. If this is what he wanted you weren't going to deny him. Chris stood over you while you played with yourself, his own palm rubbing himself through his underwear, he had pulled his sweats down enough to rub over the opposing fabric. 

He lost it when you whined his name, unable to contain his urges any longer. He shoved his boxers down his legs and let them along with his sweats fall to the floor, before he pounced on you. You gasped as Chris caged you under him and ripped your fingers out of yourself. “Chris?!” 

“You really are a fucking tease arent you?” He went to line himself up before his senses came back to him. “You got a condom, pretty girl?” 

“In th-the bedside t-table.” You pointed to the table beside you. 

Chris reached into the drawer and pulled out an unopened box of condoms, giving you a raised eyebrow. “It’s been a while.” You shrugged sheepishly. 

He chuckled and pulled one out of the box, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling along his hardened length. “Think you can take all this, baby girl?” there was that cocky attitude you were growing to love. 

“Please. Want it Channie.” 

That was the go ahead he needed, lining up to your entrance and pushing into your heat slowly. 

“Fuuuck.” He groaned out while you cried against him. He was breathing heavy, you were so tight he was suffocating within you.It didn’t help that he was the biggest you had ever taken. If you hadn’t been so wet the stretch of him would have been painful for you. But instead it was delectable, a welcome burn. 

When you bucked your hips up into him he took that as his hint to move, and he began a punishing pace. His own hips meet yours as you thrust into the air. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass, you’re arousal coating them and adding to the filthy sounds resonating in your room. It all sounded so wet. 

When you opened your mouth to let out a high pitched moan Chan took the opportunity to grip onto your cheeks, keeping your mouth open for him as he spat directly on your tongue. “Be the good girl I know you can be and swallow it. Swallow my essence, sweetheart.” You did so with no hesitation, opening your lips to show him. “Nnggg so fucking good for me, for your bias.” 

His words alone could make you cum, already feeling yourself on the edge from all the playing he did with you. You clenched on him at the praise he gave you, causing him to groan again and drop his face into your chest, suckling your skin harshly. He wanted you to remember him after he is gone. 

Or maybe he would keep you. 

It sure was tempting to keep a sweet girl with such a sweet pussy. He could even share you with the other boys, he is sure they would love a taste of you once he tells them about you.

“Channie…. ‘M close.” 

Chris nipped your skin once before bringing his fingers down to where you were connected, finding your clit and massaging roughly. “Come on, little tease. Give it to me. Make me proud and cum.” 

At his instruction you fell over the edge, cumming with a deafening cry of his name. Chris wasn’t far behind you, the clenching on his cock sending him to orgasm. You writhed under him as you felt the warmth of his cum filling you up,albeit inside the condom he wore.

Chris pumped himself within you once, twice and a final third time as he rode out his high. After your quaking was over he slowly pulled out of you, both too sensitive for anything else. The idol pressed a final kiss to your mouth before removing himself from you completely. He wandered over to the trash can you had in the corner of your room and disposed of the rubber. 

You laid there on your bed completely fucked out, mind in a haze as you watched him pull his boxers back on. He turned to you with a boyish grin. 

“So tell me you little tease, who has no balls now?” 

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

©doitforbangchan

[alexlwrites]

𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: OT7 x Plus Size! Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: "What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?"

OR  

The one where seven campus princes who are used to getting everything they wanted get enchanted by your distrust and brattiness, climbing over each other to get a smile from you who could not be bothered to give them a single second of your day.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I wanna leave this here as sort of a trigger warning: this work features a plus size main character and throughout the story there will be mean comments from characters about her body and her journey dealing with said comments. A lot of it comes from my own experience as a (now ex-ish) plus size girl myself and my path to living peacefully within my body. And although this work is about Y/N's relationship with the boys, I like to think that she still would've continued to grow and blossom happily on her own. Let this be something you learn from this fic, as I say right on the first chapter: You don't have to love the way you look right away, you just can't let it stop you from doing the things you want and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

Thank you for reading <3

P.S: Red daisies, like many red flowers, represent love and romance. Florists often use them to communicate affection to someone who doesn’t know how beautiful they are—a.k.a. beauty unknown to the possessor. 

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

The pattern in your relationships - if you could call them that - was tiring, to say the least. Once, they might have been soul crushing, but time and repetition took away the novelty of your pain and now the endgame was a mild, resented disappointment.

It started with kindness and a gentle smile, mainly from your part. You treated anyone who gave you any smidgen of attention with the utmost sweetness, hoping your energy would be matched. And sometimes it was, for a while. Sometimes you got to be on the receiving end of a blinding smile or a casual touch and you allowed yourself to hope - no, pray -that that could be it. That someone, some modern day knight in shiny armor , saw through your looks and decided that you were deserving of love, despite societal norms,

But men had a way of setting you up for disappointment. A talent, truly.

You were tired, you decided that night. No, beyond that, you were exhausted, scarred, bitter, hopeless, resentful… You could keep going. You could list every bad feeling you had been carrying in your chest by alphabetical order or by how badly they hurt and honestly you just wanted it to stop.

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy, you wondered watching the boy you had been seeing for a few weeks make fun of you in front of his circle of friends at the party you were both at. Would you never be allowed to be happy just the way you were?

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy?

“Yeah, she’s nice” Junsuu said, winking suggestively at his giggling friends “if you know what I mean.” you felt your face heat up in humiliation at the renewed round of laughter “But we just don’t match, like, physically. You know, looks-wise.”

“Right” someone agreed way too enthusiastically, sending a spear through your heart “I really just can’t see you with someone like her.”

What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?

“You’re right” you said out loud, drawing attention to yourself. Filled with hatred (for him, the world, the circumstances), your heart had no room to be mortified when all eyes turned to you “we don’t match.”

You watched as Junsuu’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to hear, much less reply “I am a big girl” you continued, words dripping with rage “And I know for a fact that there’s nothing big about you.”

You turned around to leave the room, cringing at the petty comeback, ignoring the murmurs and Junsuu’s panicked calls of your name. Walking fast, you fled the scene of the last heartbreak you would allow yourself to go through, deciding that a change was needed, but not the change everyone wanted from  you.

Despite the rumors, you didn’t turn into a huge bitch overnight, didn’t start kicking puppies or spitting on the poor. Truly, the only thing you did was establish boundaries and reevaluate the amount of respect some people deserved, but very quickly people started seeing you as some sort of villain, especially when they realized how little you cared for how they saw you. How disrespectful of you to not allow yourself to be disrespected, right?

At first, there was still an air of uncertainty about you - years and years of non-reciprocal niceties drilled into your brain, habits hard to quit. But the more you let go of those things, these tiny acts of self-aggression disguised as pleasantries and altruism, the lighter you felt; Your days became easier to get through, existing within your body felt less and less like a punishment. You had yet to reach an Instagram-worthy level of body positivity, but you had become accustomed to body neutrality. You didn’t have to love the way you looked right away, you just couldn’t let it stop you from doing the things you wanted and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

And respect you started to demand and much happier you became, living in relative peace and solitude - safe by a few close friends - up until your days started being pestered by seven headaches you could not seem to shake away.

—-

Jungkook was the one that saw you first.

It was 3 weeks into the semester and he finally decided it was the perfect time to start going to classes, sitting in the back and only listening to about 25% of what was being said, mind floating towards more important subjects such as the package of ramen waiting for him at home. Only mildly interested in what the professor had to teach, he couldn’t help but to be startled when everyone started getting up from their seats to shuffle around the room. “What’s going on?” he asked the guy sitting next to him.

“Professor gave us a duo assignment.” the other man said, standing up “You're with Y/N.”

“Who?”

The guy just pointed towards you with his chin, redirecting Jungkook’s attention before leaving. You were sitting a couple rows further down, hunched over your little green IPad as you wrote something with impressive velocity. Jungkook walked over to you, already mentally going over what he would have to do to charm you into doing everything on your own “Y/N?” he called and you raised your head.

You were pretty, he noticed with satisfaction, all bright eyes and lovely features, curves everywhere he looked “Yes?”

“I’m Jungkook.” he extended his hand with a casual smirk “The professor put us together for this project.”

There had been a small, but pleasant and polite smile on your face up until he said those words, replaced by pursed lips and an arched brow. “Yes, I know. We’ve had classes together for over a year now and been partnered together before.”

Uh oh. “Right” he coughed awkwardly, fumbling under your hardened stare “so, about this project…”

“We will meet once a week,” you said, straightforward as you turned your eyes back to your sticker-filled IPad “I will go over the theme and split the work evenly, so give me your number and I can text you with what you’re supposed to do.”

“Woah, woah, asking for my number already?” he said in a flirting manner, sitting on top of your table so he could be directly in front of you.

“Would you prefer it if I emailed it to you?” you asked without looking up.

“Actually, I was thinking you could help me out a bit,” he placed his finger under your chin, raising your face towards him “you know I have soccer practice and…”

You pushed his hand away “Unless you’re playing at the World Cup, I can’t see how that would be more important than your studies, so you either do your part of the assignment or get an F in it, I don’t care. I won’t do all the work for you, Jeon. Not again.”

Again? Jungkook winced, trying to remember when you had met before. Surely he would remember getting his head bitten off by a snappy, pretty thing like you, wouldn’t he? Surely your attitude would stand out to him amongst all the sweetness and compliance he received just for existing and smiling.

“Here’s my number.” you gave him a piece of paper with your digits written in gel sparkly ink “Text me when you decide if you want to pass this class. Good day.” 

You looked down again, going back to your notes, signing that the conversation was over before he even had the chance to add anything more. He jumped off the desk and stepped away, looking back to see if you were looking at him, but there wasn’t a single glance from your part.

Shit. Shit. He actually did have to pass this class, otherwise his overbearing soccer coach would kick him off the team. He stared down at your number, wondering what he would have to do to get you to cut him a little slack and forgive him for absolutely forgetting about your existence. 

—

“Hey, this is Jungkook” the text from an unknown number said “looking forward to us working together. We should get dinner sometime, get to know each other better.”

You read over the text once more, willing your heart to slow down its beating. Sure, Jungkook was charming and handsome, but you had seen this dance before. He would talk his way into your good graces, making you laugh and giggle until you had a four thousand word essay done with both your names in it and your texts to him would go unanswered and unseen. 

This was not your first hurtful rodeo. You put your phone away, facing down, ignoring as the poor device vibrated itself off the table with the upcoming texts.

Meanwhile, across campus, Jungkook was fuming.

“Or breakfast. We should get breakfast. I know a great place.” he tried once again, but his message was left unread. Still, he persisted.

“I have a lot of great ideas for this assignment. Don’t you want to know them?” he texted, even though he didn’t have the faintest idea on what the assignment was even about.

“You know, it’s rude to leave a guy hanging.”

“How can we do this if you won’t even text me back?”

“I thought we were in this together.”

“You know, like High School Musical.”

He kept typing out absurdity after absurdity, hoping you would dignify one with an answer. He just needed one opportunity, one opening…

His text stopped going through.

“She blocked me!” he gasped out loud.

“Who?” his roommate, Taehyung asked from where he laid on their couch, feet up on the coffee table.

“This girl in my class. We have this project together and she blocked me!”

Taehyung sent a disbelieving look his way “Were you actually planning to do the work?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously not.”

His friend rolled his eyes “Obviously not. So what’s your plan here?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, too busy looking for alternative ways to contact you. After a few minutes of research, he found your Instagram. You were cute, he noticed again, scrolling through your few posts, all relatively recent. You had a very specific style, a tasteful mix or dark and edgy with splashes of pink and bows, tight corsets under leather jackets that he couldn’t help but stare appreciatively, the flattering material clinging to your waist line and pushing your breasts up, exposing the soft freckled top of cleavage to his always hungry eyes. In your pictures, your eyes shone brightly, crinkling at the sides from your ever present smile and he could not understand why you hadn’t directed one of those to him. 

It was unsettling, to say the least, but he could not allow his annoyance to take over. He needed your help if he wanted to pass that class and if he had to use unconventional ways to get your attention, he would. 

And so, much like a little boy pulling at a girl’s braids, he started liking and spamming the comments of every single post you had.

—

There were whispers all around you, your worst nightmare.

You were at the school library, getting work done while drinking from your fourth cup of coffee, hands shaking due to caffeine and anxiety, your ever present friends. You tried to focus on your books and carefully written notes, but every word you could barely hear and every look you felt over your shoulder seemed to dig claws into your skin. You knew what they were saying. You heard it all the way from your dorm to your classes and couldn’t seem to escape them. 

“Did you see Jungkook’s comments on her pictures? What’s that about?”

“It’s not like there’s a lot to comment, is there?” 

“Maybe he thought it was someone else?”

“It’s probably a prank.”

“I bet he was hacked.”

Of course, why else would someone like Jungkook - a campus prince, popular soccer player, heartthrob - show interest in you? 

It hurt, but a small part of you still agreed with those mean spirited whispers. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing and will those thoughts away. You knew better, had learned better than to measure your value by how interested some boy was in you.

When you opened your eyes again, Jungkook was in front of you.

You barely had time to process his presence when the voices picked up volume, your skin prickling and eyes aching to remain dry. 

“What’s Jungkook doing with Fat Y/N?”

That word shouldn’t be as hurtful as it was - after all, it was just an adjective, just the current state of your body that served only to carry your thinking mind, your feeling heart. But people always said it like a curse, wielding it like a sword.

You closed your eyes again and when you opened once more, Jungkook was still there. Looking furious.

“What are they saying?”

“What they always said” you shrugged, avoiding his eyes by looking down at your papers.

Jungkook didn’t move for a while, hearing people pretend to whisper around you but it was clear that the motherfuckers wanted you to hear. Was it always like this for you, he wondered, watching as you focused on whatever book you had in front of you, hunched over with tense shoulders, your face a far cry from the luminescent one he saw on your Instagram, not a hint of that smile he wanted directed at him so unreasonably.

He couldn’t just stand there and watch you struggle to keep your posture. 

You felt him standing up and leaving more than you saw him. Good, you thought. He should leave, like everyone did, scared away by that one word that followed you around like a brand. He was probably embarrassed to be seen with you, you assumed bitterly, and there was no place in your life for people who didn’t want you proudly by your side…

Jungkook sat back in the chair in front of you and you couldn’t help but gape at the impressive bouquet of red daisies he extended towards you.

“Take it” he said, but you couldn’t move, could barely hear the furious voices around you over the roaring beat of your heart.

You… You had never gotten flowers. 

“Take it” he repeated “I almost got run over because of this, the least you can do is accept it.”

“Jungkook” you whispered, dumbfoundedly accepting the bouquet “what’s this?”

“People keep doubting I could be interested in you” he said and there was an edge to his tone you did not expect “maybe this could help clear up some rumors.”

“This is not your battle to fight” you held the flowers close to your chest carefully, looking up at him with distrust, unable to understand his motives “I’m used to this sort of thing and I don’t care about those stupid rumors.”

You were used to it? That just made Jungkook angrier. How could you be used to that sort of treatment? 

Jungkook was a lot of things - spoiled, a little lazy, sometimes a dick. But he wasn’t a bigot and he wasn’t about to stand around and let you become used to being disrespected if there was something - anything! - he could do about it “I like picking up fights”.

“Is this just pity?” you asked and he could see walls around you that stood thousands of feet tall “Is this because of that stupid assignment? Because I’m not going to do all the work just because you got me some flowers…” 

He raised his hands and smiled at you “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll do my work” he said, a new goal in mind as he saw you recoil from him with eyes filled with wariness like a suspicious kitten “You said once a week, right? How’s friday for you?” 

You still clung to your bouquet like a lifeline “That works, I guess.”

“Great!” he clapped loudly, standing up and catching the eye of those around him “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart” you mumbled, but he pretended not to hear as he crossed the table around to your side, quickly leaving a kiss to your heated cheek before you had the chance to react.

“Alright, sweetheart, I’ll see you around” he said, making sure everyone in the library could hear him “do me a favor and unblock me, ok?”

You flipped him off, both for stealing a kiss and that stupid nickname, but he just laughed it off.

“That’s my girl” he said and the library erupted in renewed whispers.

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝

°•. ✿ .•°

[Red Daisies taglist: @purplelady85 ]

[Permanent taglist: @imknewattis ; @dreamamubarak ; @onlythebest-106 ; @betysotelo18 ; @havetaeminforbreakfast ; @uno7 ; @chimchimmarie ; @anaya123world ; @junecat18 ; @kayleefriedchicken ; @jkselcouth ; @ivrose21 ; @svnbangtansworld ]

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

🎃 Twst Halloween PSA 🎃

*pulls up the Serious Talk Chair*

Alright, so.

In the wake of the new Halloween PV posted on the TWST JP social media accounts, there’s been an explosion of hype. However, something else you may have seen circulating is people saying, "I already knew about this weeks ago!" and/or claims of having knowledge of leaked characters and costumes. Some have even directly linked to videos or images of these leaks (including fully animated character sprites) in threads discussing the next Halloween event. I myself have been sent these videos and images multiple times, unprompted, over the last few days.

To make a long story short:

You should NOT be speaking about or sharing these leaks in a public setting.

By doing so, you are running the risk of spoiling people who may not want to know these things in advance. They never gave their consent to see that, and this consent shouldn’t be assumed. I’m extremely disappointed that my own experience has been this way. I wanted the chance to react live as the information was being released. Others may feel the same as me. Additionally, openly talking about leaks is may make things more difficult for us fans in the long run.

The only reason these leaks were let out so early is because TWST started uploading assets into the game much sooner than they would actually be implemented. This has allowed dataminers in the fandom to go in and look around to see what goodies might be in store for the future. However, if fans are going to just run around blurting out what all the secrets are, it may discourage the devs from continuing to do this in the future. It will make it that much more difficult for fans to extract high quality card images ASAP. It means assets may be kept under tighter lock and key to prevent this from happening again.

Don't believe me? Something similar happened with the Japanese TWST website. The team used to upload news about the next month's schedule early, but locked behind a random string of numbers. Fans brute-forced those numbers and always managed to find the schedule sooner than it was intended to be out. The number of posts made on the website has now dropped drastically and schedules are no longer released on there. While there's no proof that these events are related, there is a real concern among some dataminers that the very same could happen regarding in-game assets.

I realize that leaks are common nowadays, but please let us at least respect other fans' rights to experience the game in their own way while also minimizing the risk of consequences for the fandom. If you must discuss these leaks at all, do it in PRIVATE. You are allowed to be excited about what's coming, but please keep it to yourselves or to your own circles where it may be a more appropriate topic.

Do not ask or talk about the leaks in my inbox, DMs, or comments. Do not link me to or share any leaks. Wait until the information has been released on official TWST social media handles, THEN I would be more than happy to talk about the news with everyone. Those who disregard this request moving forward will have their message deleted and then be blocked.

Thank you—and with that, let’s return to our regularly scheduled show!

[f0rlorn]

when he sees me → logan howlett

logan howlett (x-men) x female!reader

notes → in which jean and ororo set you up on a blind date with a wolverine. in honor of deadpool and wolverine throwing me back into my x-men phase full force, i nabbed this from my wattpad. fair warning, it was written in 2021.

i stick with real things, usually facts and figures. when information's in its place i minimize the guessing game. guess what? i don't like guessing games.

you had always been a logical person. opting to plan things out rather than diving right in, so when jean offered to set you up on a blind date, you were hesitant to say yes. you always needed to know when and where things would be going down, and most importantly who would be there with you. this blind date contradicted most, if not all of your morals.

or when i feel things before i know the feelings. how am i supposed to operate when i'm tossed around by fate? like on an unexpected date! with a stranger who might talk too fast. or ask me questions about myself before i've decided that he can ask me questions about myself. he might sit too close! or call the waiter by his first name. or eat oreos but eat the cookie before the cream! but what scares me the most... what scares my the most...

it was clear that you were anxious about this, you were waving your hands around like a maniac, ranting to jean about things that didn't even make sense. "y/n, could you stop moving? i really need to finish up on your hair." jean pleaded, struggling to style your hair. you sighed and slouched in your chair, fiddling your thumbs.

"...what if he hates me?"

what if when he sees me, what if he doesn't like it? what if he runs the other way and i can't hide from it? what happens then? if when he knows me, he's only disappointed? what if i give myself away to only get it given back? i couldn't live with that!

jean turned your chair around so that she could look you in the eyes. "you are a smart and talented girl, y/n. any guy would be lucky to have you. if logan can't see that than he's just stupid." her comment was reassuring. it calmed you down, yes. but you still couldn't stop the nervousness bubbling within you.

"now go get dressed, storm is in the other room picking out an outfit for you." you thanked her and walked out of the bathroom, into your bedroom, where storm was rummaging through a pile of laundry. she smiled and pulled out a blouse for you to wear. she turned towards you and tossed you the shirt.

"the rest is on the bed. i need to go grab one last thing from my room and then you'll be ready to go!" she cheered, excited for you. you had never been much for dating. the few folks you did bring back turned out to be a bunch of douche bags, or had been scared off by some of the other mutants. when jean proposed the idea to the team, they were even more excited than you.

  you pulled off the top you were wearing and threw it in the corner of your room. you took the blouse that ororo gave you and put it on. next you put on the skirt and tucked your shirt into it. storm returned from her room with the item she retrieved. it was a gorgeous necklace with a gold chain and a jewel hanging around it. storm clasped it around your neck. "jean, c'mere!" ororo called for jean to come and see the new and improved you.

  "you look absolutely stunning!" jean praised, her hands on her hips. "let's head on downstairs, we still got some time before we need to get you out the door." jean led the three of you into the kitchen, you starting pacing the room as they sat down at the kitchen island.

  "do i have to do this?" you whined, not at all prepared for what was soon to come.

"there's no point in backing out now! it took me almost an hour to get you ready, you will be going to this date." jean said.                           

"why did i agree to this? i'm perfectly fine here! i'm surrounded with the people i love, i have my dream job... i don't see why i need a new guy in my life. and if life taught me anything, it's that men are garbage." you reasoned, trying to find an excuse not to go.

so i'm just fine inside my shell-shaped mind! this way i get the best view. so that when he sees me, i want him too...

  you were deep in thought, making a list in your head of the pros and cons of going on this date. the truth is, you were actually quite lonely here, and your friends were starting to notice.

   don't you think you're bein' a little, i mean, just a tad-

  ororo started before you cut her off.

  i'm not defensive! i'm simply being cautious. i can't risk reckless dating due to my miscalculating. while a certain suitor stands in line. i've seen in movies, most made for television, you cannot be too careful when it comes to sharing your life. i could end up a miserable wife!

  jean and ororo both gave each other a look. you continued on about how he could be some sort of criminal of psychopath. jean sighed and looked at her watch.

  "y/n, we gotta get going" they got up and ushered you to the car. ororo and jean got in the front seat of ororo's car, and you sat in the back. the entire car ride was filled with you going on and on, with 'what if's' and 'could be's'. there wasn't a single moment where you weren't complaining. jean was starting to think that maybe this wasn't the best idea after all. when you finally arrived at your destination, the three of you got out of the car. they pointed in the direction of the infamous wolverine, pushing you his way. he leaned against his car, lighting a cigar. you walked up to him, a little intimidated.

  "you're logan, yea?" you asked shyly, not really knowing what to do or say.

  "that's me, i'm assuming that makes you y/n." he replied. you nodded awkwardly.

  "shall we head in then?" he asked, looking down at you with raised eyebrows.

"yes, yes we shall." you answered, smiling slightly.

[evan4ever]

could you write some smut ab evan being jealous?

I Don’t Share

Evan Peters

TW smut smut smut. Pretty dirty. 18+

Let’s just pretend I didn’t just take a 4 month hiatus 🫣. Anyways😅 enjoy! Didn’t proofread btw!

—

“Are you always this funny?!” Finn (Wittrock) laughed along side of you, his hands on either side of his head as if you blew his mind. Your own loud laughter filled the dressing room, your head nodding to his question in confidence.

“I…” you start, struggling to catch your breath, “I am, in fact. I find myself to be quite the comedian!” Your laughter simmers to a quieter giggle, your eyes still looking at him confidently. He nods along, agreeing with your statement.

“I believe it! I can’t believe I haven’t sat and visited with you like this before. You really help lighten the mood and take some pressure off.” You smile at his light praise, not thinking anymore into it other than a new friend who happened to find you as funny as you like to think yourself to be.

“I try to stand back and not get in the way. I really enjoy watching Evan in his element. Meeting all of you happens to be a great plus.” You shrug lightly, nonchalantly.

“You’re something else. God, a mood, really! I’m glad I had the chance to finally have a real conversation to you. And not disappointed in the least!” He nudges your arm lightly with his as another string of giggles leaves both of your mouthes.

“I’m glad I could be at your service!” You joke, lifting your chin proudly.

As your conversation with Finn continues over the next hour, Evan frowns in the middle of his scene once again, overhearing it from the distance, causing the scene to be cut.

“Peters?!” The director yells in question. “The hell is your problem? Stay in character, this is the FOURTH time we’ve had to cut a scene for godsake!” Everyone glanced at Evan curiously, though he just lets out a deep breath and nods. “Right. Let’s take a break people!”

Everyone begins filing out for their short break. Even stands watching everyone while his ears zone in on the sounds of yours and Finn’s laughter still filling the whole building. He has no reason to be jealous, he wholeheartedly trusts you, but that pit of burning rage in his stomach can’t be helped. Usually, you’re out here, watching him, laughing with him. Usually, he gets to admire the beautiful sound of your giggles and the stunning sight of your smile. But today, you’re out of his sight, laughing with someone else, someone else admiring you the way he does. And it just doesn’t help that it’s a great coworker of his.

Finally, Evan peels himself from his spot in the middle of the set up and makes his way to the dressing room. The laughter between you and Finn loudens and the jealousy within Evan grows.

Before he marches into the dressing room, Evan manages to stop himself at the door and gather himself enough to make it less noticeable that he’s jealous. He clears his throat and knocks at the door before opening and walking in. Unfortunately, the sigh of you on the couch with Finn next to you, practically on and drooling over you, only furthers his jealously.

“Hey babe!” You grin at Evan, whose eyes are only on Finn. He quickly shoots you a smile before dropping it and clearing his throat, again.

“Hey, y/n, can I steal you for a minute? Got something to show you.” His smiles lessens to a tight lipped grin, and you quickly realize something is off with him. Your once giggling self now serious. You nod to Evan before looking over to Finn who gives you a knowing smile and nod.

Pushing yourself from the couch, you make your way to Evan who guides you past him and out the door, closing it behind him.

“Is everything oka-“

Your quickly cut off by Evan pulling you into a dark room, shutting the door and locking the two of you inside.

You stand in the middle of the small room, the smell of bleach and other cleaning products suggesting it’s the janitors closet, staring at Evan with confusion, what you can see of him on the dark anyways.

“What is up with you?” Your demeanor changes as you cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head to the side with an annoyed look on your face.

All you can make out of him is his body standing before you, still. Until his arms moves behind his head and the sound of scratching suggests he is, awkwardly, itching the back oh his head.

“Evan, seriously, what’s your-“

“Finn.” He interrupts you. You raise your eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate.

“What about Finn-“

“He was flirting with you!” Evan barks loudly. Taken back, you drop your arms to your side and squint at him trying to see him better but to no avail.

“Jesus, is there not a light in here?!” You huff, turning and moving your hands all over the wall feeling for a light switch. You weren’t trying to divert the statement, but you just didn’t realize that’s what was happening, if it really was.

Through your quick hand movements against the wall, you suddenly feel Evans body move closer to yours, till he was practically against you. Your hands again drop to their sides as you stare into the darkness where Evan is. You can feel the tension, so thick you could cut it with a knife, but fuck was it turning you on. You could hear his deep breaths mixed with yours, feel the heat radiating from his body onto yours, you wanted nothing more than to fall into his lips but it was like you were paralyzed, wondering what was going through his mind.

Your body jolts slightly in surprise as the light suddenly turns on, looking above you and seeing Evans hand releasing the long beaded rope to the single lightbulb on the ceiling. A half chuckle escapes from your lips nervously as you look back to Evan, his dark eyes already peering into you, making the wind feel as if it’s knocked from your lungs.

Not often do you see this side of Evan. He’s a kind, gentle man. Even in bed. If you want it rough, you have to practically beg him because he just isn’t. It isn’t in him, despite what’s seen on TV. He’s an actor, after all. So to see him now, looking so dark and almost cold — it’s different. But damn, does it turn you on like nothing else.

You clear your throat as you attempt to stare him back down, but failing miserably.

“I didn’t know he was flirting with me, Evan.” You glance back to his unfaltering stare before looking away. “Really. He sat down and we just started visiting. I cracked a few jokes because the entire cast seemed on edge. It lightened the mood. That’s all it was to me. If it was more to him, I had no idea.” You explain in all honesty. It was a good time laughing with Finn, but you never looked at it more than a friend and a friend having a good time with a few good laughs.

But Evan didn’t find it funny. And he knows your part is truth, but it doesn’t stop the jealousy on the other end.

You are his, and his only.

After a few more awkward seconds of silence, you groan, shifting from one foot to the other. “Evan, seriously!” You whisper/yell, now finally looking into his eyes as he was yours, but within the second, Evan had you pinned against the closet wall. It had taken you by surprise, a breath drawn in and being held as you piece together what had just happened.

His face was so close to yours now, and all you could do was stare at his perfect, pink lips.

“I don’t share.” Your eyes flicker up to his in surprise at his words. Your lips part to say something but before you had a chance, his own lips crash onto them in a deep, passionate, open-mouthed kiss.

You melt into him, his arms holding you up by your waist now, until you find the strength to slide your arms up his biceps and onto either side of his face pulling him to you more if it were even possible. He allows you to hold onto him, pull on him, whatever it was you wanted to do he’d let you, because he was just as much yours as you were his.

Finally pulling away for some air, he looks back down at you noticing your now perfectly swollen pink lips, a half smile appearing on his own with pride. “I don’t share.” He repeats.

You gaze up at him in awe, a complete desperate mess against his body.

You nod slowly. “I don’t want you to.”

Evan let’s out a deep throaty sigh, quickly grabbing the bottom of your shirt and pulling it up with your sports bra, your arms raising to allow them to slide off you with ease, his hands immediately returning to your waist and gripping it so tightly it almost hurt, and pulling you back into a kiss.

Your hands quickly slide down his body and find the buttons of his jeans, fumbling with in an attempt to get them off him. His hands meet yours as he helps in undoing them and pulling them down enough to give him some freedom before moving to your athletic leggings. His fingers hoop underneath and slide them down your legs, wriggling yourself out of them as well and leaving you bare.

Without hesitation, Evans hand scoop you up from under your thighs and rest you against his waist, the wall helping hold you as well as your legs that wrap around him. His lips quickly meet your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down to your collar bone.

“I would’ve liked your shirt off..” you hum, your head falling against the wall as you take pleasure in the feeling his lips have against your cold skin. You hear a chuckle from him, smiling slightly at knowing he was feeling less tense about the situation.

Evans head lifts and his eyes meet yours again. He takes a moment to gaze at you, taking in your beauty and rejoicing in the feeling of knowing you felt the same, regardless of the jealousy he had previously endured. His hands lifts from your waist and soothes some stray hairs that had fallen onto your face back before letting it rest gently against your head.

“I love you.” He hums, his thumb caressing over your cheek one onto your temple. You breathe in, enjoying this moment while it lasts, before pulling his face back to yours into soft kiss.

But as quick as the moment came, it went, feeling the kiss deepen into more passion and hunger for each other. Evans hands find your own that we’re holding his face, taking them in his and guiding them against the wall. He slides them up until they’re completely above you both, taking them into one of his hands easily and pressing them hard against it now so you had no chance of moving them.

He parts from you just enough to see what he was doing, your eyes watching his every move carefully and excitedly. He grabs ahold of his erection that had been pressing against your thigh this entire time and strokes it, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling and only turning you on further. It almost hurt how badly your pussy was aching to feel him inside of you.

He finally guides his dick to your entrance, lining it up perfectly and allowing himself to slide into it with ease. Your mouth parts as you moan in unison with him, your head falling back against the wall.

“Fuck…” he hums, “you’re so wet. All for me?” He glances up at you, still in excitement, and you nod quickly, almost aggressively, just ready for him to fuck you.

“Yes, yes” you whimper, attempting to rock your hips for some kind of friction to ease the ache that was still there. “Fuck, please Evan..” you open your eyes and meet his with a desperate pout. Evan grins, his eyebrows raising playfully.

“Please, what?”

You groan quietly. It’s so rare that he makes you beg for him to fuck you, but it was so goddamn hot when he does.

“Please.. please fuck me.” You beg, squeezing your eyes shut as your hips continue their attempt to rock against him for some relief.

“Tell me your mine.” He demands as he pulls out slightly. “Tell me how you only want me to fuck you, that you want Finn to watch so he knows you belong to me.” He’s now almost pulled from you completely, leaving behind a worsening ache and throb in your pussy.

“Fuck Evan! I’m yours! I’m only yours” you take a deep breath trying to control your uneven breathing and trembling, “I want Finn to watch you fuck me so good that he never wants to look at me again” you whine, fulfilling his wishes. You gasp loudly as he thrusts back into you hard, pulling out immediately after.

“Keep going.”

You meet his eyes, surprised with the complete dominance he’s taken right now. And you were happily going to oblige.

“I want Finn to see your cock fucking my dripping cunt so he knows just how wet you make me..” Evan slams himself back into you causing another moan to escape, “I want him to know just how good you make me feel, I want him to know that no one else can fuck me like you do.”

Evan repeats his thrust into you, speeding up with every word that leaves your tongue. His grip on your wrists tighten so much that it’s sure to leave a few marks, but the pain is nonexistent as you disappear into the complete ecstasy feeling that overtakes your body.

“Fuck, yes… I want Finn to watch you make me cum all over your dick.” You moan out, the sound of his hips slapping into yours so loud that surely, everyone has to hear it.

Your legs wrap around his waist tighter as his thrusts grow faster and sloppier. His head falls against your chest, his free hand gripping your waist tightly to keep you in place.

“He’ll know only i can fuck you like this..” Evan repeats your words in a deep groan, his teeth taking your delicate skin on your chest between them and nibbling hard, until a dark purple mark is left. “Only I can mark you when and we’re I want.” He moans, kissing the bruise and resting his forehead against you.

“Fuck yes, don’t stop fucking me Evan” you whimper, your fingers attempting to grip onto his that are still holding them. “I want you to make me cum so good that he can hear it from in here.” You beg.

He grins against your skin, releasing your waist and letting his hand find its way between your bodies until it stops on your clit. He quickly starts circling it with his thumb, your mouth parting in a gasp and your body jolting at the new overpowering sensation.

“Oh right there, yes Evan, fuck!” You whimper put more moans, Evan moaning at the beautiful sounds you make and speeding both his thrusts and his thumb up to help you reach your high. “Oh god, I’m gonna cum” you nod to him as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten more and more with every move he makes.

With one final hard thrust, you crumble into him as your orgasm takes over your body, a long string of moans filling the small closet as your high makes Evan reach his, pulling out and stroking his dick to ride his out, his thumb working on your clit to ride yours out.

As your moans quiet, your legs shake as they attempt to keep themselves wrapped around his waist. Evan slowly releases your wrists from above your head and carefully helps you stand, his hands holding your waist again for support as you catch your breath. You lean yourself back into the wall, lazily smiling up at him as you watch him tuck himself back into his boxers and jeans.

He glanced at you as you watch him on awe and shoots you a nearly embarrassed smile before reaching down for your clothing. He hands your shirt and bra to you before bending down and opening one pant leg and letting you hold onto him as you slip your foot into it, then he opens the other pant leg and slides them up onto your waist. You take a moment to put your shirt on, then lean back into the wall as you stare at each other.

“I’m not sure where that came from..”

“It was hot.” You cut him off. He blinks a few times, his cheeks reddening before pulling you to him into a hug. Your arms wrap around him gently but tightly.

“You never have to worry where my head or heart is at Evan,” you reassure him, feeling him nod into the crook of your neck. “There is not one person on this planet that could ever make me want to give you up. You’re all I could ever want.”

You hear him sigh, feeling his body relax more into your hold.

You hug each other for a few more minutes before finally pulling away, meeting the others eyes.

Evan clears his throat and looks around the room. “Um, I’m pretty sure the whole studio heard us so… sorry for what’s to come when he walk out.”

You press your lips together tightly trying to hide the embarrassed smile, but nod firmly and take ahold of his hand in yours.

“We walk out confidently.” You state, glancing up at him as he tries to stifle the laugh, only making you giggle with him.

—

Tags: @evanpetersmood @witchsbitchestime @demxnicprxncess @yes-divine-ruler @shjjpm @evanpsrealwife @iruzias @jangsuzchap @quicksilversg1rl @submissiveforahsmen @angelmenace @lovelizzie-blog1 @justa19 @daylas-life @simp4petermaximoff @totta69

[izvmimi]

cw: spoilers. after timeskip. selfship-coded. reader has a defined quirk. hurt/comfort.

As strong as the bond between any high school class can be (even yours, arguably more a small superpowered militia than a group of hopeful freshmen in far over their heads and strong enough to make it through the other end anyway), paths diverge as people follow their dreams, even if they will all forever call UA their home. 

It’s fitting that Izuku Midoriya, indisputably the most affected by the trauma of the meta war has kept UA as home base, and settling into his new career as teacher has remained both expected and fulfilling, even if poorly introspective onlookers would think otherwise. He is the heart of what it means to be a hero and that is to inspire the present and the future, and carry on the lessons of the past.

He is also your heart, you muse, as you find him sitting at your kitchen table, poring over graded essays, the red ink from his excessively lengthy corrections and comments practically jumping off the paper it’s scribbled on. You set down your work bag and attempt to sneak up behind him, but even if he’s focused and still, he’s always sharp, setting his pen down to turn around and greet you with a kiss.

“Hey, you’re later than usual, so I just let myself in, is that okay?” he asks. You nod, moving over to wash your hands in the sink quickly, then coming back around to pull a chair next to him. 

You’ve wanted to ask him to just move in together for months now, especially since now you spend more time at each other’s places than you do your own separate ones, but something about the proposition has felt wrong, rushed maybe. It’s been just a little over a year since you moved back to Japan after your fellowship overseas, and while you’ve remained in a varying level of contact the whole time since graduation, the flux of things has changed significantly instead of settling normally. For one, confessing an unrelenting affection that was kept mostly secret since high school had changed the trajectory of your lives, finding ways to incorporate seeing each other without fanfare between your busy post-grad education and his UA courses, then finally a year of long distance had made it difficult to ever feel like things had been truly steady.

“I wouldn’t have given you a code or key if not, silly,” you remind him. He smiles, and you glance over at the last assignment he’s corrected, and grimace. 

“You know if Aizawa had given me this many comments on an essay, I wouldn’t have shown up the next day, Izuku,” you remind him. He laughs, as you take the paper and read his feedback, mind spinning.

“I mean, no kid’s ever cried yet. I try to be nice.”

He is nice, you think, realizing that not a single word in the practical novel he’s scribbled in the margins of the brief constructed response can be misconstrued as disappointed or demanding. 

In fact, you would have cried tears of joy reading this. 

“How was the clinic?” he asks over the turn of another page.

“The most darling kid who didn’t have a Quirk manifest yet at age 5 showed up with worried parents with too much money on their hands.” You twist your mouth to the side. 

Izuku doesn’t look up as he says, “Oh, that’s too bad.”

There’s a pang of discomfort in your chest for a split second, but he doesn’t say anything else, scribbling a series of checkmarks and x’s, the quick scritch of his pen a little louder and resounding.

Izuku was meant to be Quirkless and is happy being Quirkless yet again, his mission fulfilled and the world better for it - even if sometimes only marginally so - but you know he yearns for the ability to be back on the field, with the same restlessness All Might once recounted feeling once he’d retired to teach as well. It’s evident in the way Izuku stays up a little too late reading/watching the news at every level, and how much of his free time he coordinates to a similarly intense training program at the crack of dawn, and the fact that even now he bristles at the implication of Quirklessness as a disability.

Everyone can be a hero. He was the greatest of them all - is, in fact, and not just your personal one, but his own personal world has shrunk. Documentaries, videos, people’s memories will not change that the fact that he’s far bigger than the quiet life he lives.

Now he’s relegated to cheering his friends on, day in and day out, and preparing a path for the youth to surpass him, something he is willing to do, but you know perhaps the timing is a bit too early for someone who shines as brightly as him. 

You rest your head on his shoulder. I love you, you could say out loud, I love you, and the world loves you, for you even more than what you did and what you represent, but it doesn’t help and Izuku cannot help sometimes interpreting your love as pity.

“What do you want for dinner?” you ask instead, keeping your voice as gentle as possible.

He turns to kiss your forehead. “I’m good with anything.”

You hate that no matter what you ask, big or small, he’ll always say this, and decide you’ll order his favorite food instead.

—

Years ago, when Mei contacted you out of the blue while you were ass deep in your medical school finals, asking you if you remembered the last time you’d used your Quirk on Izuku Midoriya, you had immediately assumed she had officially gone insane. It had been greater than five years since you’d last had a normal conversation with her at all, if even that could be considered normal, and you hadn’t had a need to use your Quirk on Izuku since the meta war.

“I know it’s a long shot but I need to know if you still remember-”

“I do,” you answered quickly, then immediately your face warmed at the admission. You can’t help that your Quirk gives you near perfect memory of people by their neuronal diagram, but something about it feels stalkerish when you still think of him affectionately, and not just as someone you’ve once healed. It also doesn’t help what the circumstances were when you’d healed him… but that would be a concern and memory for later.

“How can I help?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes visibly at you when you showed up to Hatsume’s lab the very next day but the animosity between you two has been a running schtick for years and you responded in jest. Using Hatsume’s program to redraw each neuronal connection from memory and adjusting for differences related to age was your greatest contribution to Izuku’s suit, small sums of money to contribute to the class pot whenever you could spare them the other.

There was always a little pang of jealousy that Katsuki could always offer up more money than you could, which once you’d confided to him by late night phone call days before All Might came back to Japan, he’d remind you,

“I’m just trying to beat your boyfriend in a fair fight, don’t make this about you.”

Katsuki’s rash way of speaking has always intuitively comforted you in just this way. It brings a smile to your face, and you offer him a word of thanks, anyway.

“He doesn’t know, does he? I know you like to run your mouth.” 

Katsuki can’t see you roll your eyes. “He’s none the wiser, don’t worry.”

“Good.” 

—

Izuku sends you a daily good morning message, and you’ve rarely beaten him to the punch, but this morning, you offer him a phone call as you make your way to the center of the city to work. All Might is coming back today and will present his suit to him then, the fruit of all your joint labors, and you were practically unable to sleep due to the excitement. Part of you agonized over whether or not you should try to be with him in the moment, but this is a moment to be kept between them, mentor and mentee.

“How are you feeling this morning, Izuku?” you ask, hoping the pants of your speedwalk (late to work as usual), don’t concern him through the phone.

“Weirdly enough, excited. There’s a feeling I can’t quite place, a good one,” he starts, and your grin is ear to ear.

Hours later, you get an excited text and one of the happiest phone calls you’ve ever received, and your heart is full to bursting.

—

“It’s fine, you don’t have to fuss over me,” Izuku insists, and you pout. There’s one stubborn emerald curl that won’t right itself in your opinion, and he’ll be on set for an interview in just a few minutes - the first since returning to active hero work - but he holds your fingers in his hand and pulls them to his lips instead.

“It’s okay. Don’t be nervous on my behalf,” he reminds you as he kisses them. His eyes are kind and relaxing, and you let out a deep breath, biting your lower lip. “I’ve got this, I promise.”

“Fine.”

“I love you,” he reminds you. “Thank you for always being by my side.”

You nod, as his assistant whisks him away, and he steps back into the spotlight, where he’s always belonged.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: language

Chapter Word Count: 2288

—-MDNI—-

A/N: AHHHHHHHHH IM SOOOOOOOO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ITS NOT EVEN A SPICEY CHAPTER… I hope it’s ok! Let me know of any errors as I’m the only proof reader .

——————————————————————

Please read the below:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8pt1

Chapter 8pt2

Chapter 9

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 10

I stood in the kitchen over the stove, the smell of bacon tickling my nose as it sizzled in the pan. Watching the fat and grease splutter, my mind replayed the rapturous events of last night with every tantalising memory bringing heat to my skin and fluttering to my pulse. The simple thought of Deans hands on me set my whole body aflame. Not to mention that I woke up in his room, in his arms, listening to his soft breathing as he slept peacefully - not a single crease between his brows as he slumbered unburdened. I had crept out, not wanting to torment myself by staying by his side until he awoke.

I had eaten breakfast alone; neither of the boys rising early enough for us to eat together, so I tucked in whilst the food was still hot. I was a mixture of grateful and ungrateful in this instance. Grateful, because I could be left alone with my sinful thoughts - and ungrateful, because I didn’t want to be left alone with my sinful thoughts. They were driving me insane, spinning around and around inside my head. I desperately needed to remind myself that Dean Winchester was an insufferable jackass who seemed to be making it his life’s mission to get under my skin. And I couldn’t let him.

Oh Bobby, if you could see me now, you’d be so disappointed in my life choices…

I had just tidied the kitchen and placed the food in the fridge when I heard the front door open and close and I made my way to the main room - Charlie appearing at the top of the stairs wielding half a dozen shopping bags.

“Good morning bitches!” She beamed as she began making her way down, right as Sam and Dean strode in, sleep weighing on their features. I opened my mouth to respond but my gaze snagged on Dean, who was already looking at me and my words evaporated in my mouth. We stared at each other, both of us with a sort of dumbfounded look about our faces. Charlie stepped next to me, looking between us.

“I said… good morning bitches! No? Anyone?”

Without saying a word I grabbed her hand through the countless loops of shopping bag handles and dragged her through the bunker until we reached my room. I pushed her through the door and slammed it behind us, leaving the frenzy in the hallway as we looked at each other in silence. I huffed out a sigh, running my hands through my hair before cupping my cheeks. She dropped the bags and sat on the edge of my bed.

“What’s going on with you? Are you ok? You see-”

“I fucked Dean.”

“No!”

“Twice.”

“NO!”

I nodded and sat next to her as she jumped up, a wild look on her face.

“You fucked the guy you beat the shit out of?”

I nodded again, biting my lip and cringing.

“I thought you hated him?”

“I do. I mean, I don’t hate him. He just infuriates me so much.”

She pauses for a second, smirking and raising her brows as she sits down beside me.

“Was it good?”

I closed my eyes and breathed out, memories flooding my brain.

“Oh my God Charlie you have no idea…” I crisscross my legs and face her, and she does the same. We look like a couple of teenage girls talking about our high school crushes at a sleepover.

“That good?”

“It was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. He’s ruined me,” I sighed as I saw her wicked expression, her gaze flitting between myself and the shopping bags abandoned on the floor.

“What?”

She picked up one of the bags and plunged her hand in, fishing around for a second before pulling out an outfit. There were… bunny ears?

OH

A slutty bunny outfit was thrown onto the bed, the bodysuit crafted with expertise and soft black velvet, with shaping-bones ascending the bodice and plush padding in the bra cups. The white cuffs were made of soft, pressed cotton, and amongst it all I spotted a little fluffy tail.

“Why have you bought me a Playboy outfit?” I raised an eyebrow, unable to stop myself from finding out if the tail was as soft as it looked. It was. Charlie beamed.

“Because the girls at this club are known for their irresistible aesthetic. You’ll need to blend in. But don’t worry,” she gestured to the other bags, “if you don’t want to be a bunny I bought you more.”

“Of course they wear outfits…” I groaned, knowing that the boys will never let me live this down.

“Plus…” Charlie wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “now that I know you’re FINALLY getting laid, you can actually put these towards their intended use.”

I smirked and threw a pillow at her.

“Oh yeah? And when was the last time you got laid?”

She rolled off the bed dramatically before throwing the pillow back at me.

“A lady never tells!”

“Bullshit!” I laughed, before grabbing the outfit off the covers and headed to the bathroom to try it on.

*

The afternoon passed by quickly, most of it spent trying on those ridiculous outfits that Charlie had bought for me. I must have tried on a dozen, ranging from ‘let’s only cover flaps and nips,’ to ‘you’re gonna need x-ray vision’. I went for something in between, not too scandalous but enough skin on show to get the wolves howling. Charlie lounged around on my bed reading comics and muttering to herself whilst I busied away getting ready, doing my hair and makeup and quadruple checking that this ridiculous outfit wasn’t going to spontaneously explode off my body. Overall the whole ordeal took around five hours from start to finish - six if you include lunch and coffee breaks, and six and a half hours if you took into account all the occasions that Deans ego led him to believe that we ‘might need a mans opinion’ on the matter. Said ego had many a door slammed in his face.

Evening had rolled around and I pulled a long coat over myself - another gift from Charlie - making sure that it covered everything not meant for outside a club environment. Or Comic Con, actually, because I eventually learnt that Charlie had purchased this particular outfit from a cosplay website. It explained a lot to be honest. From the quality fabric to the delicate lace trims and tiny petticoats, it was made to a much higher standard than anything else she’d brought with her. Adorning the final touch upon my head, I exited my room before joining the others in the research room, my heels clicking softly on the hard floor.

Upon arrival, all eyes were on me. On my face, my cloaked body, my exposed calves and heeled feet. It was like every other gaze in this room was trying to see through the wool of the overcoat concealing the surprise beneath; a present to be unwrapped… a meal to be devoured. I wasn't sure who to look at, every set of eyes hot with expectation so I chose to study the ribbons on the top of my stilettos, observing in great detail how the fabric shined in the dim lighting. A moment passed before Sam cleared his throat.

“Come on guys, let's get going.”

It should have been Sam that I looked at when I replied, but my eyes were drawn to Dean like a compass to North. His jaw was tight and his eyes dark, as though it pained him to not know what I was wearing. Although he could have been thinking anything really, as we hadn't exactly spoken much since the tantalising events of the previous night and we definitely hadn't spoken about what had happened. I think we were both well aware of the dangerous situation we were putting ourselves in, despite trying to act oblivious to any consequences. We both knew at some point the conversation needed to be had.

“Yes,” I replied to Sam, my voice cracking from the anxiety starting to crawl up my spine, “let's get going before I freeze to death.”

*

The car ride was quiet. Too quiet. Dean was in a weird headspace and didn't crack any of his usual jokes or poke fun at anyone in the car. Sam hadn't made eye contact with me since I gave him the dance, and whenever our eyes met his face erupted into a red-hot blush. Tapping away on her tablet, Charlie paid no mind to any of the silence at first, both of us in the back seat minding our own business. However after a long wait at a red light, she glanced over at me before pulling out her phone and tapped away. It didn't take long for my own phone to vibrate. Retrieving it from my pocket, I opened the message from her.

Chazzie: wtf is going on with you and these guys?

I sighed and wrote my reply.

Me: it's a long story… and tbh I didn't give you all the details about me and Dean…

Chazzie: bitch this is a long drive, tell me! I know Sam won't look at you and Dean won't STOP looking at you. And I know Dean, he's normally a ‘no strings’ kinda guy. But bitch you've got that man on a leash.

I sighed again, throwing her a look before giving in and typing away.

Me: so Dean made me annoyed and told me I would be no good for this mission because he doubted I could even do a basic lap dance. Well, it ground my gears so yesterday evening I put on some music and gave a lap dance to prove my point.

Chazzie: ooh I bet he was in heaven, I remember when you took those classes! You were soooo good <3

Me: awww thanks babes <3 but I didn't give the dance to Dean… I danced for Sam…

I heard her choke on her own spit as she read the message and she threw me a disbelieving look.

Chazzie: WHAT?! Why Sam?! I mean it explains why he won't look at you. But whhhyyy? When you've already fucked D-boi?

Me: tbh I was mad at Dean and I wanted him to suffer. Plus I had a point to prove, he needed to be able to see the show to know I was good.

Chazzie: I mean that's true! How did he take it when you danced for Sam?

Me: tbh I don't think he was best impressed at first, but then I think he just enjoyed the show. … I do feel a bit bad for Sam tho for dragging him into his. I feel bad for using him.

Chazzie: don't! I can tell he loved every minute of it from the permanent blush on his face hehehe. You're a wicked woman tho. Really torturing those boys. How long did it take for Dean to come to your room?

Me: ughhh don’t even joke… you make me sound like I'm in some shitty YA novel… and technically he didn't come to my room. I bumped into him in the corridor. Then he told me he ‘couldn't stop thinking about me’. The we made out and then we eventually fucked in my room.

Chazzie: Welp somehow you've made Dean Winchester your bitch. Gold medal for you, because I've seen soooo many girls try and fail. So did he wake up in your room or did he go back to his? Because this is fucking important.

I looked at her and felt my face heat up, a grin appearing on her face as she playfully smacked my arm.

Chazzie: bitch seriously?! He stayed the night?!

Me: technically no… my sheets were ruined so we slept in his bed instead …

Before anymore texts could be exchanged, I felt the car slow to a stop and the handbrake engaged, engine flicking off. Dean turned to face us, doing a double take over my blushing expression and Charlie's wild grin. He mumbled something under his breath about this making him nervous before he faced forward again and Sam turned around instead, his soft gaze scanning my made-up eyes and lips.

“Are you sure you're ok with this (Y/n)? Because it's still ok for you to back out now if you want.”

The older Winchester tore his gaze away from the lone two-storey building before us; its neon lights reflecting in the puddles on the pavement. Two guys in leather jackets stood outside, and I'm assuming they were security. Dean's expression turned to one of unease as he surveyed the club from a distance.

“Exactly what Sammy said. (Y/n) this is dangerous and I don't want you going in there. Back out now.”

I couldn't help but scoff and roll my eyes.

“I've not gotten this far and this fucking dressed up to give up now. Besides, my safety isn't as important as the safety of the civilians who are at risk of leaving these vamps even a day longer. You know that. That's why we do this job-”

“Look, your safety is all I give a shit about.”

Dean's assertiveness came as a slight shock, not just to myself but to him as well. We blinked at each other before I turned to Charlie.

“Do you have the paperwork and ID I need to get in?” I heard Dean sigh and turn back to face the steering wheel, cursing under his breath. Without saying another word, I took the envelope from Charlie's grasp and flung the door to the impala open, clambered out and slammed the door behind me.

——————————————————————

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hobby27 @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @feyresqueen @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @spookyysinsanity @safiyas-world @uncle-eggy @happyt0exist @supernaturalstilinski @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrsjenniferwinchester

Up Next: Chapter 11

[simpxxstan]

i’ve just finished reading your wonwoo!fics from the 550 followers event and i decided i need to request something myself because they were just TOO GOOD

given that, i thought about police officer!wonwoo (or mingyu, i wouldn’t mind—) who’s like super handsome and hot and all but also super nice and helpful and loves cats and—

and maybe he’s living in the same neighbourhood as y/n and they just feel drawn towards each other? idk, i’m not really good at making up scenarios 😭😭

it can go both ways, starting fluffy and then get smutty or angsty, everything’s gonna be fine <3

all i know is that i need to read something from you again 🫶🏼🫶🏼

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST! so firstly, I apologise if I disappoint you because instead of wonu, I did mingyu, because I had this wildest fantasy about him but I hope you like it still!! And I also added a few twists in the plot, because I wanted to spice it up a bit. I really pray you'll enjoy my version too!

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the content of this event here!

also, thank you to everyone who's interacted with the event <333 your enthusiasm is so so much appreciated! the event is still on till the end of this month so you can still send in requests, my inbox is open hehe :) also to those who have sent in requests, T_T i am SOR SORRY for making you wait but honestly i am trying my best :((( i will answer your request as soon as i can, thank you for your patience <3

genre: strangers to lovers, police and criminal au, smut, fluff, neighbours au

word count: 5k words

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT police officer!mingyu, discussions of illegal racing, gangs, criminals, criminal activities, gambling (but nothing is explicit except the racing activities). smut warnings: unprotected sex (please please do not do this irl), almost public sex, oral (m. receiving), making out, usage of pet names, size kink, mingyu's a perv for reader

It's been six months since Mingyu has shifted to this town, and he's not regretted it a single day. it's a wonderful, quaint little town, on the edge of the city, that's close enough to the hustle but far enough to not be a site for trouble. The people are lovely and they've really accepted him with a full heart- the old ladies who bring him their delicious cooked food during his lunch breaks, the young boys who follow his gym routine meticulously, the mothers who either shamelessly flirt with him or try to set up their children with him, the fathers who pat his back proudly after a long day of work, the children who run around his clean police station with curious eyes.

After his busy five years in his posting at the city, this feels like heaven to him. He had joined the force in his craving for adrenaline and his innate nature of being helpful to everyone had driven him deeper into the profession. But he's twenty-seven now, and maturity has dampened the fire within his soul, although not his desire for social peace and justice- hence his choice to shift here.

It's not a town renowned for crime, and most of his days are peaceful with minor reports of petty theft or pickpocketing. But Mingyu has his fair share of excitement- being on the outskirts of the city, the edges of the town are less tame than the heart of it. It's a den for many gangs- all linked by the illegal racing grounds outside the town. Mingyu doesn't have any way to reach the gangs- they're being pursued by the force in the bigger cities with far more resources than sanctioned to his police station. But he tries to ensure the gangs and their dirty business doesn't get into his town. And Mingyu has his hands full with it.

But being busy keeps Mingyu happy. He's loved by the townsfolk and he's found a kind of peace here, different and yet beautiful. It's a slow town, and he's fallen into a routine that's good for his slowing-down body and his slowing-down mind.

So it's been a long, long day of work and at the end of the week, he's tired and ready to fall into his bed after eating anything that's in the fridge. But when he's walking up the stairs of his apartment building, his eyes meet a scene that's out of routine.

"Hello? Can I help you?" Mingyu walks up quickly as he sees you struggle to pull up two suitcases up the stairs, along with the clearly heavy rucksack on your back. "No! Thanks, no, I'm fine." "Please allow me, I live right here on this floor." And Mingyu casually picks up the suitcases, with a smile on his face. He doesn't miss the ways your body relaxes instantly and your eyes light up. "Umm, I'm here on this floor too. Just moved in into 309." "And I'm in 311. Right across your flat!" "I'm so happy to meet a neighbour already. I'm Y/N." "And I'm Mingyu."

And Mingyu feels the exhaustion of the day wear out when he sees your whole smile- not a tight-lipped smile, but the one that shows your teeth and your dimples. Well, dimple. There's only one big dimple on your left cheek, and it's a beautiful smile that stays on Mingyu's mind long through the night after you disappear into your flat and Mingyu goes into his own.

_

Mingyu doesn't know why he's suddenly choosing to skip his daily gym routine in favour of a run through the town at 5.30 am (nearly an hour before he's ever woken up in his entire life). Maybe one day he wakes up at 5.30 to use the washroom but spots you leave the building in your jogging shorts and earplugs. He joins the dots and his body joins them too- safe to say, he couldn't sleep again that morning. And neither the morning after that, because he's determined to join you on your run.

You don't talk much except brief interactions, and your speed is much faster than him, but he doesn't mind the exhaustion. The wink you throw him every time he lags behind and the bottle of water you offer him right after you drink from it too is enough motivation for him to keep running. Of course it helps that you compliment the way his muscles strain through his tank top and Mingyu's chest blows up even further with pride.

And it's so subtle, but Mingyu feels you slowly open up more to him.

It's in the won't you come in for coffee? I make a mean iced coffee.

It's in the I was shopping for groceries and brought you cooking oil, since you were asking for it yesterday. I thought you may not have had the time to go for shopping, since you're so busy at work.

It's in the see this magnet? my baby cousin made it.

And Mingyu goes to you like a moth drawn to a flame. He's drawn to you when he decides to take you out (for a friendly afternoon outing, he calls it officially, but internally he's treating it as a date). He's drawn to you when you show him around the veterinary where you work. He's drawn to you when he sees you eating ice cream on his couch after he's cooked dinner for the two of you. He's drawn to you when you barely touch his arm and tell him that you really like all your neighbours and the entire community in the town is great, but you're especially glad to have found Mingyu because he's one of the only people here who's near your age. And he's drawn to you when you smile for him, that rich, dimpled smile, after he tells you that you're exactly the friend he's been looking for since he's come here.

After that, Mingyu doesn't know what happens in what order. Do you kiss him first? Or does he kiss you first? Do you climb into his lap? Or does he pull you onto him? Do you bite his lip when his hands wander down to your ass that he's been eyeing for weeks now on every morning run? Or does he bite your lip when your hands weave through his hair? It's a blur, and when you pull back for a breath, your lips swollen, the first button of your shirt open, and a hickey already blooming near your collarbone, Mingyu knows only one thing. How he wants. Wants you. Wants more. Wants now-

"Mingyu, I- I don't know how to say this... it's not like I didn't like this. And I- I- umm. Maybe I should leave? Because if I stay I won't be able to hold back and I want to think about this a little bit?"

And oh, your eyes are so wide and so pretty, and the skin of your arms feel like butter under his touch, but he lets you go. He lets you walk away, a shy smile on your lips. He lets you kiss him on his cheek once before disappearing into your own flat, and Mingyu shuts the door and takes deep breaths as he leans on his door.

He's ready to give you all the time in the world to think, but he's sure that he's already yours. He just knows at the end of it, he needs to make you his too.

_

"Hello, darling."

The tone on the other end is unmistakable, and Mingyu sighs. "Don't try to seduce me, love. It's not gonna work." He's said this before, but the message clearly hasn't gotten through. The honey voice drawls on in a painfully slow pace, "You're late tonight. What's up?" "I was busy," he huffs, his heart still beating fast from making out with you a few minutes ago.

"Busy? Unbelievable." "A police officer can't be busy? Is it so unfathomable?" "No. What's unfathomable is that Kim Mingyu is off his routine. I wonder if there's something new... or someone new?"

The voice laughs, and Mingyu knows it's friendly prodding. His relationship with the person on the other side of the line might be anything but friendly but it's yet again become a part of his routine, and at least the friendly banter breaks the monotony.

"Are you jealous that I talk to women apart from you?" Mingyu smirks, knowing two can play this game.

"I'm jealous that she's taking up my time. You have to show her what's her place, really."

"Don't be rude love. You know I've got my ears on your voice only. Now, tell me if you have any news."

"Oh, getting straight to the point, I see..."

"Oh come on!"

The voice becomes serious instantly. Gone is the sexy drawl, and it's replaced by crisp words that are music to Mingyu's ears. "I've heard Taffy's gang making some noise in the borders. You might wanna come and look at it once for yourself."

"Do you have any more information?"

"Nothing much right now, officer. Look, I'm holding up my end of the bargain but you've got to be patient."

Mingyu groans. It's not good news, and it's certainly not enough news. But he'll take a look himself to make sure he understands the graveness of the situation correctly.

"Okay. When should I come? Tell me when Taffy's men are lurking around the area?"

The voice shifts again into a teasing, seductive tone, making Mingyu jerk at the sudden transition.

"Come tomorrow? Race night."

"Yeah no that's not happening. I'll-"

"Tomorrow, babe. Wanna see you race. A big boy like you likes his fast bikes, don't you?"

The thought of racing sends a spike of adrenaline rushing through his veins, but he knows this is illegal. It's one thing allowing the leader of the races to become his informant so that he can keep an eye on the circuit as well as get key pieces of information that remain hidden to the legal eye. But it's an entirely different thing getting into the centre of the mess himself and be involved in it.

And yet, a part of him wants to feel the thrill again. Tonight, after years, he felt that adrenaline rushing through him when you'd tugged at his collar and kissed him repeatedly. Fuck. It had felt good, hadn't it? One night won't matter, will it?

"I'll be there."

"Fantastic. Can't wait to see you, babe."

_

Mingyu doesn't see you the next morning. He waits outside your door at 5.30, but doesn't knock, hoping you'll come out eventually. But you don't. He doesn't spot you through the rest of the day either, and it makes him worry. But he's decided to give you your space and time, so he will be patient... at least for one more day.

It's a Sunday so Mingyu has a half-day at work. When he's back from work, his mind is still all over the place. Should he even go to the race tonight? He's raced a bit back in college days, but everything pretty legal. Nothing like the den of vice he knows he's going to walk into tonight. But he also knows that this is the best way for him to infiltrate through the layers of middlemen that stop information from reaching his ears.

By the time 8.30 comes around, there's no text from you. Instead, there's a text from his informant, saved under the codename of layla (he knows it's not her real name, but he doesn't care enough to ask about it).

I'll see you at the circuit tonight, darling. Don't be late.

Mingyu's heart speeds up. Is it wrong to feel excited right now? As a conscientious police officer, he should definitely not feel excited. But as nothing more than a man, he feels his blood become warm at the thought of meeting the woman behind that voice he's spoken to for almost three months now. He's almost 100% sure the voice isn't generated by a voice modifier or AI, but it's also impossible for that to be someone's real voice, so there must be some pitch changes or something along those lines. Nevertheless, their conversations has often made him wonder about the woman herself.

She's a shadow- no one really knows who she is. But about four months ago, when she'd called him up herself to supply information in order to buy protection for herself and her racing infrastructure, Mingyu had yielded instantly by weighing his priorities. And since then, he's tried endless times to put a face to the voice, but it's been a search in vain.

Not tonight.

Tonight, he's gonna see the face for himself and put all his wandering thoughts to rest. Thoughts late at night after a particularly long phone call with his informant, that made him wonder whether the flirting was real or all for show. Wonder whether the woman herself would be as sexy as the voice. And wonder what kind of woman she must be in order to be capable enough to singlehandedly run an entire illegal racing system.

Fuck it, Mingyu thinks, after seeing the clock strike 8.45 and still no contact from your end. He wears a black tank top along with a black leather jacket- intending to fit right into the crowd he expects to see there. He just hopes there's no one else there who'll recognise him. And he certainly hopes nothing will happen to make him regret this decision for life.

_

You're such a fool, Mingyu, he thinks to himself. You're such a fool for thinking you'd fit in.

Mingyu may be just twenty-seven but he doesn't feel young at all when he sees the crowd at the race. The people here must be of his age, but they all seem so different from him. Perhaps it's because his job has taken away his youth that he'll always feel perpetually distant from even people of his own age.

And so Mingyu stands there awkwardly, stiff amidst a crowd of half-drunk and half-high people, wearing colourful headbands and smearing eclectic neon colours on their skin. He feels out of place- and yet, a part of him wishes he could fit in. He wishes he could have enjoyed his youth like this- on the edge of the other side of the law. He wishes he could have lived like this for even moment of his life- beyond academics, beyond career, beyond mere survival.

"Hi beautiful, looking for someone?" A woman with a cigarette between her fingers strolls up to him. Her hair is flying in the wind, exposing the tattoos all over her skin.

Before Mingyu can say anything, the crowd around him suddenly erupts in loud cheers, and she quickly pulls his hand and drags him towards the centre of the entire crowd. He sees two bikers mount on their bikes- exquisitely reworked to glow in the dark. A woman hops up on a platform in the middle of the two bikers and lifts a gun towards the sky. And as the crowd counts down, she shoots the gun right after 1 and the two bikers zoom out into the blackness ahead, the crowd going wild with cheers for the biker they support.

The scene makes Mingyu's skin feel alive too- the sheer speed of the two bikes, the sound of the engines revving and the general merriness around him induces adrenaline to flow through his veins. When he turns to look at the woman next to him, he sees her looking at him with a curious smile on her face. "Umm, I'm... I'm not really here for the race."

"You're not? Layla told me you would be." The smile on her face deepens, and Mingyu gasps. "You know Layla?" "I do. But that's not important. Let's get you on a bike, hmm?" Mingyu's somehow missed to noticed how her hand's still on his arm, gently stroking his bicep over his jacket. "No, really I don't want to." She steps right up close to him, "But you can try once, pretty boy." Her eyelashes cast long shadows on her cheeks, but Mingyu doesn't care. "I don't want to try." "Let loose for one night." "I'm not here for fun. I'm here for work-" The woman in front of his laughs. "Yes Layla said that too. Don't worry, she's going to work. But only after you race against her."

Mingyu feels his heart speed up. Race against Layla? Fuck. Now, why does that sound so tempting? It makes him only more curious to meet his informant, because why must she make herself so mysterious?

"Are you her friend?" Mingyu knows that this woman is not Layla, because the voice doesn't match by miles. This woman here has a lisp in her voice, unlike Layla's clear diction, and no amount of pitch changing or machine alterations can change that (Mingyu knows that the hard way).

"I'm her sister. Well, kind of. Now, no more questions pretty boy. Next race starts in a few minutes. Let's get you on a bike!" And Mingyu finds himself in no position to protest as the woman drags him away without hearing him anymore.

_

In the blink of an eye, Mingyu finds himself on a beautiful beast of a motorbike, his entire body drunk on adrenaline. There's so many people he's never even met before, but they're hyping him up. The attention-whore in him goes crazy at the cheers. There's coloured smoke being released into the sky, and Mingyu wears his helmet to prevent it from clouding his eyes. And finally when the smoke fades away, he sees his opponent standing along side him.

Layla.

Fuck.

Still no face to the voice in his head, but it's still an enigmatic visual that draws Mingyu in and reels his mind. He watches the way her black latex pants hug her long legs as she swings her legs over her bike. And he watches the way her helmet covers her face but her hair's still flying in the air. There's something still mysterious about her, and yet so oddly familiar.

But before he can say or do anything, the crowd begins the countdown, and in a second, the gunshot goes off. And Mingyu zooms ahead, revving his engine from 0 to 100 in a moment, a smile spreading on his face as the excitement of the speed injects itself in his veins. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Layla take a spin around the corner of the racetrack, her stable figure undeterred by the sharp turn. Mingyu may not be a professional, but it's not the first time he's racing. He's done this before and he can feel that familiar thrill returning, as he picks up speed and makes up his mind to defeat his worthy opponent.

It's a long and winding course, but to Mingyu it feels like a few minutes only. The cold night air hits his body and makes him feel like he's flying. Soon the ending flag is in sight, and he sees Layla speed up, hunching over her bike, determined to get there first.

But at the last minute, she steps back, her posture loosening as she sits back and watches Mingyu whizz off ahead of her.

Fuck, he mutters under his breath. Knowing she let him win easily hurts his ego, and he slows the bike down as they drive into the nothingness of the deserted roads ahead. When he finally comes to a stop, he gets off the bike and sees her stand a few metres away from him, her helmet still on her head stretching her legs.

"Hey! Layla! You let me win! I would've won anyway- fair and sq-"

Layla spins around and takes off her helmet, her hair whipping across her face, and Mingyu finally sees the face behind the voice.

_

"Y/N?" Mingyu's eyes are wide, his brain running as fast as his bike was a short while back, as he tries to connect the dots.

The voice is unmistakable, now slightly higher in pitch, and Mingyu wants to kick himself as he realises how big a fool he's been. "We finally meet, Kim Mingyu." There's a beautiful smile on your face, one he's not seen before. There are other things too- there's a nose pin on your button nose, making your features look sharper, and a necklace hanging off your neck, which is odd since he's never seen you wear jewellery before.

"Y/N? H- wh- how?!"

You don't answer him. You simply walk towards him, your hips swaying and Mingyu groans at the sight of your pretty legs in those tight pants. Fuck him for not recognising that ass sooner in spite of being obsessed with it for weeks.

"I thought I should come clean to you, officer, before you make any choices." You casually slot yourself between his legs, as Mingyu leans back against his motorbike. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

He thinks he's a fool for not finding out more about you before falling for you. He thinks he's a fool for maintaining a contact with someone as dangerous as La- you. And he thinks he's a fool for finding you even sexier after discovering this persona of yours.

And he thinks he would be a fool with regrets for all his life if he lets go of you now.

So Mingyu grabs onto your hips, and pulls you closer.

"You've got me by my balls, baby. Got me eating out of your hand. And you know I happen to like it. So it doesn't matter what I think, love. What matters is what you think." His fingers rub against the skin exposed as your crop top rises up as you dangle your hands around his shoulders. You laugh at his words, pressing even closer to him, the air between you two turning to electricity. "It doesn't matter what I think either- because I'd fallen for you ages ago when I first saw you around in town. The new, dashing police officer, Kim Mingyu, enquiring about gangsters and fending himself off prying old ladies at the same time. Since then I've just wanted to make you mine." Mingyu's heart hasn't stopped thumping loudly all night, and at your confession, his body tingles with a dangerous feeling.

"Glad we're on the same page, baby."

_

"This is my office," you whisper to him in between kisses as you drag him to a shady-looking room at the back of the building that's on the edge of the racing circuit, now deserted because everyone's busy at the races. "Office?" Mingyu giggles, because the term is ridiculous. The place is anything but an office- with the way dishevelled boxes are just stacked everywhere, and instead of desks there are more pool tables and boxes of alcohol. It's a small, dingy place, and the single tubelight at the end of the corridor flickers every other minute, but it's a vibe. Mingyu's not unfamiliar with seedy places in his line of work, but it's so novel to think this is where you truly work.

But fuck him if he doesn't think it just makes you hotter. Because there's something about you being the boss of a pack of hundred delinquents associated with even more hardened criminals that makes his dick chub up real quick.

Like it is right now, when your hands make quick work of removing his jacket and throwing it on the floor as you touch his bare muscle. Mingyu carelessly runs a hand through his hair as he sees you push him onto a chair on a desk that's in your office, the room lit only by the mercy of the distant tubelight and the moonlight streaming in through the window panes. "Fuck, you're so big Mingyu. Let me blow you? Please? Wanted to do this for so long." Your eyes are so pretty as you bend in front of him, fingers lazily rubbing into the tent in his pants, making him hiss. "Go on, baby. Whatever you like. Fuck, but kiss me once more."

And you do. You taste like berries, and Mingyu loves it. Mingyu knows he's got it bad, but he doesn't care. You're on your knees and you want to blow him, and if this isn't the mental image to which he's jerked off for days now, he'd be damned. So he pushes you down in between his knees after kissing you to his heart's content, and you quickly take off his pants. "God," you almost drool and Mingyu whimpers when you take off his boxers too. "You're so fucking big, Gyu. Never seen such a big, pretty cock," you say reverently, as you pump it and it twitches in your hands. Your eyes go wide when you lick it and fit your mouth barely against the tip, and Mingyu throws his head back and moans. He's not going to last long, if just this much has got him feeling like this.

Thankfully, you don't tease him much, eager to feel the heavy weight on your tongue too. So you take him as much as your throat allows, and Mingyu feels himself on the brink of heaven. When you bob your head a couple of times, Mingyu reaches down to tug your hair back and you moan around his cock. The vibrations send him over, and he cums into your mouth even as you continue to suck him. When you finally pull off with a pop, another squirt from his dick leaves a string of white cum on your lips and Mingyu feels himself getting hard again.

"That was so hot baby. You're so hot," he says, as he picks you up from the floor and on the desk. It's so easy for him to manhandle you like that, and you pull him close quickly. "You're hotter, Gyu. Can't tell you what fantasies I've had about you in these last few months." Mingyu smirks, his hands removing your beautiful pants, and spreading your thighs apart as he feels his way through your folds. "Umm? Really? Now don't be a bad girl, and tell me what you've thought about me."

You open your mouth to say something but then Mingyu pinches your clit, and any words fall away as you moan out loudly. Your hands steady themselves on his biceps as Mingyu begins to finger you painfully slowly- to the extent that he can hear the squelching sounds, and it drives him crazy.

"Tell me, Y/N."

When your breathing slows down as you feel Mingyu driving two fingers into you at a steady pace, his eyes fixed on yours, biting his lip in concentration, you tell him softly.

"Before I shifted into the flat... I wondered what you'd be like from up close. Because I'd only seen you from afar. And after hearing your v- aaah- voice, it just got worse." You feel Mingyu stretching you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly as he kissed your neck.

"And then when I did shift in... fuck. It was so hard to not give in to you. Whenever you looked at me with your puppy eyes and y- y- your smile- ah, fuck I'm g- gonna cum, Mingyu!" You scream as he fingers you through your orgasm, and he licks his fingers clean once you come down from your high.

"Then who asked you to not give in to me?"

"I wanted to make sure you'd like me in real life and not judge me simply as an informant." Your simple, vulnerable words take his breath away, and Mingyu pulls off your top in one go. "Fuck, you're so cute baby. I'd like you in every form, in every life. You drive me crazy, do you know that?" And Mingyu knows that now, as you hold on to his shoulders as he enters you in one go. "God, you're so tight, Y/N. Tighter than your pretty mouth, fuck." He's trying so hard not to cum right now, but as you grip his hair and moan filthily, a stream of curses falling off your pretty lips, Mingyu lets his adrenaline take over. And he thrusts into you without any hesitance, hips moving fast, his balls heavy as he slams against you again and again. The desk creaks, and you pant in his ears, begging him to go harder, and Mingyu can feel the way your pussy clenches him at every thrust.

"Gonna cum, Gyu. Please-" Your nails dig into his nape, and it drives him over the edge. When you come along with him, there's a sharp buzz spreading through his body and he feels like he's gone to heaven.

He holds you close like that for the next few minutes, unable and uninterested in letting you go. When you both finally feel the high subside, you look up at him, a hazy smile on your face. "I really like you, Gyu. I hope you can like me too beyond who I am in this racing circuit. Trust me, it's.... it's not my entire life. I am a person bey-"

He kisses you quiet. "Stop explaining yourself." You try to protest, but he kisses you again. "You know Y/N, I think I liked you from the first day I met you. And I get what you're saying but... trust me. Fuck. I don't know how to say this. But safe to say if I thought you were amazing as Y/N? I think you're absolutely the epitome of perfection as Y/N plus Layla. So hot, so gorgeous, and I love every bit of you."

And then there's that single-dimpled smile again.

"I also like the nose pin. Why'd you take it off?"

You giggle, "Didn't want it to be a deal-breaker once I had my mind set on you."

Mingyu kisses your nose at the pin itself and you shiver in his arms.

"Nothing about you can be a deal-breaker, baby."

[cosmicdream222]

EFT Tapping Script Template for Void State, Manifesting & Shifting

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

This is an example EFT tapping script to use to clear your negative beliefs, calm your nervous system, and reprogram your mind with positive affirmations around entering the void, manifesting your dream life or shifting.

If you've never tried tapping before, this quick video demonstrates all the points you need to know. Some people don't use the wrist point and that's fine, I prefer to use it. You can also tap other places on the body, especially places that might hold tension like your lower back or shoulders.

Phase 1: Set-Up

Tapping sessions start off with a "set-up" on the side of the hand, where you tell yourself that even though you have all these negative thoughts, it's ok and you love yourself anyway.

The set-up phrase template is: "Even though I [have this negative thought/feeling/situation], I deeply and completely love and accept and forgive myself." It's usually repeated 3 times, but can go longer if you want.

It's best to use your own words, but this is the basic idea:

For void state: "Even though I think the void is hard to enter, I deeply and completely love and accept myself. Even though I have tried so many times to enter the void, and I keep failing, and I'm so frustrated and annoyed, I deeply and completely love and forgive myself. Even though I have tried so many methods and nothing is working, and I'm so mad that people make it seem so easy, and I feel like something is wrong with me, I deeply and completely love and accept and forgive myself. I'm willing to change the way I look at things. I'm willing to change my mind and my state. I'm willing to let go of the past."

For manifesting your dream life or shifting: "Even though I think it sounds impossible that I can wake up with all my desires/shift to my desired reality, I deeply and completely love and accept myself. Even though I have so many limiting beliefs from society, doubts that this is real, and people telling me this is ridiculous, I deeply and completely love and forgive myself. Even though I have tried so many methods and keep failing, and I wonder if I'll every be successful, and I feel like something is wrong with me, I deeply and completely love and accept and forgive myself. I'm willing to change the way I look at things. I'm willing to change my mind and my state. I'm willing to let go of the past,"

Take a deep breath, rub your hands together, drink some water.

Phase 2: Venting

Start tapping on the main points in a cycle and continue with the venting.

Void: "I have been trying to enter the void for so long. I haven't had any success. It's just so frustrating. It's just so hard. No matter what I try it doesn't work. Every morning I wake up disappointed that I failed to enter the void again. Why has it been so hard for me? Some people make it look so easy. It's just not fair. What am I doing wrong?"

Manifesting/shifting: "I have been trying to manifest my dream life/shift for so long. I haven't had any success or movement at all. Every morning I wake up in my same old reality and I'm so frustrated. I just want to wake up with all my desires. I'm just sick of this life. Why do some people make it look so easy? I've tried everything and keep failing. What's wrong with me?"

Continue venting for as long as you need. You might want to go through 2-3 (or more) rounds of the negative before you move on.

Phase 3: Bridging

Next I like to start making "bridging" statements. Like you're creating a bridge from your past negative state to your future one, you're gradually guiding yourself to feel better.

Example bridge for any: "I know I've been trying for a long time. But I also know I've had a lot of things to overcome. Yes, my life has been difficult. I know it's not my fault. I know I'm not doing anything wrong. I can't compare my journey to anyone else's. I don't know what they were going through before they had their success. But I do know I am in control of my future. No matter what happened in the past, I'm willing to believe I am in control now. I'm willing to believe that life can be easy for me. I'm open to believing that I can be successful."

You can continue to bridge as long as you need to. If you find your affirmations hard to believe, you can do a few rounds saying them starting with bridging phrases like:

Maybe I can start to believe that ____

I'm willing to believe ____

I am open to the possibility that ____

I can start to accept that ____

I choose to believe ____

Phase 4: Positive Affirmations

Finally, start using your positive affirmations and hyping yourself up.

Void: "It literally doesn't matter what happened in the past, because I am in control now. I was overcomplicating things because of tumblr and putting the void on a pedestal. I don't have to do that anymore. I know the void is real. I also know the void is no big deal. I know I enter the void every night when I sleep. I've entered the void a million times before. I know the void is just myself in my highest form. I know I am in control of the void because I am the creator. I know the void is easy to enter. I know I can enter the void easily no matter what."

Manifesting/shifting: "It literally doesn't matter what happened in the past, because I am in control now. I was overcomplicating things because of tumblr/ShiftTok and putting my desires on a pedestal. I don't have to do that anymore. I know manifesting/shifting is real. I know I am the creator of my reality and I can have anything I want. No desire or reality is more special, bigger or more important than any other. I know I can have whatever I want. I know I can shift/manifest easily. I am a master shifter/manifestor now. It's so easy for me to get all my desires."

Continue with the positive statements for as long as you want. In total the whole thing would probably take 10-20 minutes, but you can always go longer.

When you're done, rub your hands together or "Namaste", thank yourself for doing the work, and drink lots of water!!