#Unfortunately I am not so trustworthy

[hydrasheadscientistmcu]

Can Hydra cure eczema?

If so I’ll gladly be your experiment as long as I don’t have to deal with eczema anymore.

I might be able to see what I could get done for that. Skin care is not my area but I have many sources and people I could see about your condition.

[freakinator]

If you don’t mind, I’m gonna yap for a second.. I think another problem with Kab is how sudden the turn around was. Like in the first convo where Kab was acting “evil”, Zam fought back with the argument that she’s wasn’t really evil at all and I think he did believe that at least a little. And if Kab slowly began to turn her path around then he would be a bit more trusting cause he would have SEEN her actual emotional growth but the turn around was so fast, it feels like there was no emotional growth at all and that Kab is still the same as before, cause she basically is. She still wants Mane dead no matter the cost and she’s still, intentionally or not, trying to manipulate Zam, but she wants to be treated as if she’s had that whole long term emotional growth

yeah ii think this is where her majority experience with short-term smps really bit her in the ass, i think there are two main directions that other ppl take it tho: 1. is as what you speculate in that some ppl think that she hasnt had genuine growth and hasnt changed at all and 2. that she genuinely changes too quickly and is therefore unreliable regardless of if shes being honest or not

i think the reason zam was so receptive to her in silent scream was cause this has been a recurrent plot point for a couple streams now, kab trespassing zams base to yap while zam tries to decipher her wants and motivations until eventually she just let it all out and in that instance i think he did genuinely believed that she changed even if it was slowly/just a little bit

....but then die for you happened lol

ssee the thing about kab is that shes shes all-or-nothing, going from one extreme to the next after just a little bit of change in character which can be jarring to some ppl to say the least (unless you thought she was lying and therefore any character development shouldnt be believed i suppose) but is something that was a great asset in shorter and arena-based smps where you had to get as much advantage against your opponent as possible without having to worry about the long-term consequences of these actions ie them not trusting you while still having to interact often in mundane ways even after messing with them. while she Can be swayed this only really works with things she was already unsure of which while a great motivator and trait to keep her on track with her goals (again another great trait for short-term smps), can be really jarring and distressing for other ppl if the things she was absolutely sure about goes against their own perspective like for example her thinking that derapchu killing her constitutes zam getting payback for her as the protector of the server (The protector, not A protector like zam insists, The protector of the server)

i think shes far too used to the fast-paced instant acceptance of changed personality in arena smps that is a natural consequence of them being short-term and having a revolving door of members and teams which is why she expects ppl to accept her growth and efforts so quickly even if realistically nobody would hand over their trust that easily esp after essentially being harassed in their own home multiple times, like even in normal smps where theres a baseline amount of trust ppl still wouldnt trust you after doing that, what more in a server like lifesteal where general trust is low basically all the time?

[undefeatablesin]

Have a Good Hunter Aloysha WIP while I'm here, because I passionately adore this beastly woman ✨️

[britneyshakespeare]

i have been working with kids for four years and i had to write my first ever note just now about a seventh grade boy being inappropriate towards me. i don't know what the hell this could possibly lead to or what. he was trying to feel my legs repeatedly to the point where i had to stop sitting next to him (and i was subbing for his one-to-one para!!!). he's got high support needs. in that kind of job, you're supposed to sit next to them all day and look over their work.

the teacher whose classroom this was happening in could also tell something was wrong. the whole class was acting kinda crazy because it was the day before school vacation week and there was another class coming in to share projects. so like, he was swamped with keeping order already. but we were sitting two feet away from his podium at the front of the room. the kid was giving him and me a hard time when he wouldn't take out his chromebook as he was instructed. and then when he did take out his chromebook, he immediately, for some reason, places it on my lap. he had been ogling my legs the whole time. he puts his computer ON MY LAP. and i'm just like, stunned, because what the hell? can you not keep it on your own lap, for some reason? i don't even know what to say, i just hold it a little above my lap while i'm thinking why on earth would this be happening? he would NOT do this to his regular para if she were here, would he? this can't be normal.

and the teacher sees this and within a minute places a stool in front of the kid for him to put his laptop on. and i'm like. oh ok. yeah. he notices exactly what's happening and that that's not appropriate. and then when the other class comes in to share projects he tells me "miss b——, you don't actually have to sit next to c—— this whole period if you don't want to." and he grabs me a chair for me to go sit with the other paras in the back opposite corner of the room. like he KNEW. and thank you mr. d—— for recognizing that because i was just kind of shocked and didn't know if i was overreacting in my head to all of this.

when there's a point in the class where the kids are discussing stuff, i privately mention what's happened to the para who's sitting closest to me. and she says that the thing about him calling me pretty is something he's been known to do, but the fact that he kept trying to touch my legs is new behavior. and that's a completely different class of behavior. i was telling him NO, don't do that, and he kept doing it. and the fact that he was calling me pretty repeatedly, even when i was giving him instructions that he wasn't taking. and this is the second to last class before the end of the day, so she says she'll take a walk with him before learning center and talk to him about it, and i'm grateful for that. she does. the kid apologizes to me as soon as i come into learning center. but like. WHAT the hell.

i'm STILL like what the hell. this is unfathomable to me. the other adults who i told about this or who witnessed it were supportive of me. but. what to do??? i wrote a long note to his regular para about this, because i knew she was going to hear about it at least from the first para i told. the second para i told about it after school had a kind of... i'm not gonna say enabling reaction, but i suppose since it had already been "taken care of" (or at least, he had been spoken to and apologized) she didn't really have much to add in the way of discipline. i told her what happened after school and she was just like... a little bit, laughing? like oh, yup, that dog. she at the very least confirmed he KNEW what he was doing, that that was not an accident. she said to me "i had a feeling he was going to develop a crush on you" (me and these other paras were together for most of the beginning of the day too). but it's like. it's not about that.

i have worked with children for FOUR years. children have had crushes on me before; i'm quite unfazed by it. boys from the ages of 5-to-15 have told me i'm so pretty before and asked me to marry them. i've never had them feeling up my legs before. i've never had them making me physically uncomfortable. it's NOT about this seventh grader having a crush on the pretty substitute. he is NOT unusual for that, at all. but i've never had a boy of any age or education level repeatedly touching my knees and thighs. THAT is problem behavior!!!

because what if i wasn't assertive enough with him to tell him to stop? what if i was a girl his age? worse, what if i was an adult who encouraged this behavior? i don't come to the middle school to be a seductress. i had no intention in putting on a pair of tights and a skirt this morning of being viewed as an attractive object, especially not by a pubescent boy. what if i did though? what if his interpretation of me wasn't so incorrect and offensive? what if i let him keep touching me inappropriately and saying flirtatious things to me? me, an adult in my mid-twenties, towards a middle school boy?

in no world would that be ok. if i had been feeling up and overly-complimenting a CHILD at my place of work, holy shit would there be reports about me. so a child acting that way could never be ok either. if it'd be firable for me to be reciprocating that action, then that action should not be happening to me. ever. and that child should never repeat that action again to any other adult again.

like i am simply not there to be treated as an attractive young woman. i put on a skirt that shows too much knee and get paired with a boy, though, and that's apparently just a natural consequence. hooo-ly shit. like i don't know what to do. first of all, the more time passes since this has happened, the more i am just unable to stop thinking about it. i wasn't "hurt" or too emotional in the moment but i'm just still processing it and it gets worse. i'm just more and more disgusted.

i don't know what i expect to come out of this, or the email i sent to his regular para. like, am i gonna have to attend a fucking meeting? what is the precedent that this sets for him? WHY do i feel BAD for him about this? well, because he's a child, of course. a child who has done wrong he may not be able to understand. but he knows WHAT he did. he just doesn't know WHY it was wrong.

and i couldn't even say something to him that was like, "well, how would you like it if i was touching you like this?" because young boys do not understand how inappropriate it'd be. i'm sure this kid thought he was gonna get away with what he was doing at the very least. but probably not unlikely he (being a child with no concept of how wrong it'd be) thought he could get some sort of "positive" attention for treating me like this. either way he was simply doing what he wanted to do, with no perspective of how it would make me feel or that it could be classified as harassment. teenage boys think it'd be awesome if the older attractive woman would reciprocate their affections. they're wrong. i, as the older attractive woman of his affection, cannot be the one to convince him of that, though.

i don't know. i don't know. like it's just so not ok. but if i didn't tell another adult about this, he would've gotten away with it. he would probably do it again. and him being in trouble for it is not the same as him understanding that it was wrong. unless someone has a REAL talk with him about inappropriate attention and consent, it's not unlikely that he'll just repeat the behavior in a setting where he thinks he won't be caught or told on. THAT'S the problem. me, i could just never have to be this boy's para again. in my email, i didn't say that i would never be ok working with or around him ever again. he already knows i didn't like it and i'm not afraid to tell on him; as far as that lesson applies to me, individually, i think he's become too ashamed to repeat that.

i don't know. i don't know. i very much expressed that i, i guess, "forgave" him in the email that i wrote. i clarified that i was writing it for the sake of having it on the record. i think that could potentially be very important for the purposes of preventing further similar or escalating behavior from him in the future. i don't want him to be in trouble. i don't think i will be blamed for this, especially not with how promptly i acted, although i don't know to what extent this will be framed as me thinking i'm a "victim." i'm not... i don't feel victimized. i feel disgusted. i feel afraid for the sake of what could happen to or with him in the future, if he thinks behavior like his towards me today is ok.

i feel like if i end up having to further respond to this, this will be made about me. in a way it kind of was. is? in the moment it was happening, it was certainly about me. because i was the one this boy was giving all this unwanted attention to. but to make the consequences of this about me and to involve me any further, i also don't want. because i said what i said already, i don't care if a student has a crush on me. this isn't about me being the pretty substitute. i'm the pretty substitute all the time, to tons of people. that's not really something i've been concerned about up until now.

but do i have to reexplain my personal embarrassment? that i was wearing a skirt? that he was ogling my legs? really? what more do i have to gain from sharing that, other than having the adults at my place of work confirm or deny me in their heads as the pretty substitute? i don't know. perhaps that's REALLY overthinking it. but i don't want to be the substitute that caused a problem for this special ed kid. i don't wanna be the reason that he can't be around me anymore, the person people think of when they're monitoring how he's acting around girls and young women. i DON'T want to be the one people think of when they think of his past misbehavior. i'm NOT here for that.

that's just fucking humiliating. and in this being a thing that could follow him, i have to be ogled and touched over and over again in people's minds for this to be taken seriously. but for this to be swept under the rug would be even worse, no? i don't know. i hate this. the principal is a nice guy; i wouldn't be surprised if he and/or people from the special ed department reached out to me sympathetically about this. but i don't wanna be reached out to. i don't wanna have ppl i work with tell me "sorry that kid was just so attracted to you he couldn't help himself" like come on. if the kid himself doesn't change then i don't really care to remember this incident. and no one reaching out to me and saying they've talked to this kid will actually prove to me he understands. this is the kind of inappropriate behavior it takes years for people to understand why it was wrong, especially a child who has no idea. i mean come on.

[fragmentedblade]

I was reading yesterday about xiangqi and there was a mention about how the general is rather useless and even affects negatively your game at first, but ends up having a key role in setting up winning strategies towards the final stages, and it reminded me so much of Jing Yuan's role in the Xianzhou arc

[snekdood]

anyways! rape accusations hurt marginalized men w/ no real systemic power, hope that helps!

[mrfoox]

uuuuuh, i really have my brain wired as... people telling me things = they love me

i need to learn that if people dont it doesnt mean they deont love me but here i am.......

[avelera]

PSA: You should question news articles that make you not want to vote

Hey Tumblr friends, but especially young Americans in this, the year of our Lord 2024.

Unfortunately, it is an election year.

Unfortunately, a US election year becomes everyone's problem, and yes everyone else, we are very very sorry that you have to deal with our nonsense.

But in all seriousness, the level of propaganda that's going to be flung around on all sides is going to reach peak levels this year for the English-speaking internet in particular. There's going to be a lot of influence operations, on all sides, and yes including on sides you agree with but they are still influence operations.

Source: I am speaking as a cybersecurity professional who also did a great deal of work in election security.

So, here's what I am going to ask you to do. What I am going to beg you to do: be careful of any article that makes you think there's no point in voting.

That's it. I'm not going to tell you who to vote for, or how to think, or that you should trust or distrust every article out there. I don't care about that. I care about whether or not it makes you think you shouldn't vote.

A lot of influence operations are about making you feel like there's no point. That both sides are just as bad as the other. The the election is falsified. That you can "protest" by not voting (false: you will simply not be counted and your voice will be ignored). All sorts of reasons not to vote.

No matter what you do, what you believe, or who you trust, you really really have to vote this year, and every year, and you need to not listen to articles that say there's no point because among those articles are in fact active foreign influence campaigns trying to promote one side or the other for their own reasons, I am deadly serious right now.

(More context, sources, and examples sources below the cut.)

In 2016, Russian influence operations were focused on tearing down Hillary in order to specifically depress voter turnout among young men of color in the belief that this would help Trump get elected.

From the article: "“Buried literally in the middle of the indictment is a paragraph that should jar every American committed to the long fight for voting rights,” Anders wrote in a statement. “The Russians allegedly masqueraded as African-American and American Muslim activists to urge minority voters to abstain from voting in the 2016 election or to vote for a third-party candidate.”

This is the flavor of influence campaign that has been proven, that does exist, and is the sort of thing that does numbers here on Tumblr.

Things like the situation in Gaza, for example, are incredibly fraught situations. Articles don't even need to lie about facts on the ground there to make people feel hopeless and angry. Again, I am not telling you who to trust or not trust when it comes to news sources. But if an article about this event, for examples, makes you think or even outright tells you, "There's no point to voting, both sides are awful, I just shouldn't bother." You need to pause and at least consider that this might be an influence operation. You need to think critically. You need to check sources. You need to think about the world you want to live in, to vote for, and who might not want that world to happen for any variety of reasons.

Protesting by failing to vote isn't a real thing.

Old politicians ignoring young voters because they famously do not bother to vote is absolutely 100% a real thing. It is why so many policies that are popular with young people are low priority for politicians: they are not afraid of losing the young vote because no one plans on having it in the first place when it's never there in big enough numbers to matter.

So please, please, read what you want. Believe what you want. Follow your heart and your brain and whatever other organ you want to think with. I'm not here to tell you who is right, wrong, trustworthy, good, or bad. I'm just here to tell you that despite all of that, whatever you read, you must vote in your elections, no matter where you are in the world and you must not listen to voices that tell you not to as a protest.

[drakaripykiros130ac]

People are so insensitive when it comes to Rhaenyra’s situation. I have never seen so much cruelty directed towards a girl who was put between a rock and a hard place.

You all are acting as though Rhaenyra’s goal in life was to cheat on Laenor and undermine the Velaryons, her allies and her kin. She didn’t sleep around with the purpose of getting back at her husband and having children with other men out of spite (she’s not Cersei).

Rhaenyra was forced into marriage with a gay man and expected to produce heirs not only for the Iron Throne but also for Driftmark. So, an heir and a spare for House Targaryen. Another heir and another spare for House Velaryon. Four children (preferably sons) were expected from her womb. Good luck with that.

Let’s suppose that the rumors are true and Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey are not Laenor’s. Rhaenyra’s decision to have children with another man should be less criticized, and regarded with more sympathy. She couldn’t spend her entire marriage life to Laenor without having children. Her “suitable” options were these:

1. Remain childless and let herself, the Princess of Dragonstone and Heir to the Throne, be called barren.

2. Demand an annulment by exposing Laenor’s nature (confirming the rumors), and not only humiliating House Velaryon (her allies) but also putting the succession of Driftmark into question (since Laenor was Corlys’ only son and his chosen heir).

At a time when a faction of snakes was constantly nipping at her heels, either one of these options would have left Rhaenyra vulnerable at Court.

She took matters into her own hands and had children with another man. And not just another man. This was a man she could trust, her sworn shield, a man who cared for her and who would never betray her (it’s hard to find someone like that).

To claim that she should have chosen a Valyrian (as though the options are unlimited) is extremely superficial. For this to work, she needed someone trustworthy, someone who would not attempt to claim the children later on. We all know that Daemon would have been the best option for her. She loved him, he was Valyrian and her ally. But alas, with his own marriage and life away from Court, it wasn’t really possible. And I am not really sure if Daemon would have been okay with another man laying claim to his children (that is up for debate).

Rhaenyra preferred a man who was trustworthy over a man with the “correct” features. The chances were 50/50 that the children would look like her, and unfortunately, they didn’t. That’s that.

Laenor and Corlys accepted the situation, because they understood what it would cost them all if they didn’t. This whole thing was on their heads. They provided the heir to the throne with a husband incapable of reproducing. It was not Rhaenyra’s fault.

As such, the children were recognized as Velaryons by the father (Laenor), the Lord of Driftmark (Corlys) and the King (Viserys). And these are the only opinions which matter. No one can prove that the boys didn’t inherit Baratheon and/or Arryn genes. Legally, Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey are the sons of Rhaenyra and Laenor.

When it comes to the Iron Throne, it doesn’t matter who fathered Rhaenyra’s children, as long as they are hers. She is the ruling Queen. And we have no way of knowing how things would have gone down after Rhaenyra became Queen. Daemon had two sons of his own. He could have managed to convince Rhaenyra to acknowledge Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey as bastards and then legitimize them, since she has the power to do so. If the boys wouldn’t have been accepted by the Realm (unlikely), there is also the possibility that Rhaenyra could have decided to pass the succession to her and Daemon’s children. Rhaenyra had legitimate heirs who could have taken the throne after her death.

As for Driftmark, despite greedy Vaemond’s ramblings, the succession was just fine. The Velaryon line would have continued through the marriage between Lucerys and Rhaena.

Lucerys had the Velaryon name and Rhaena had the Velaryon blood. Their children would have had the Velaryon name and blood. Problem solved.

People need to stop acting as through Vaemond was some sort of crusader, demanding “justice” for his House. He was just as much of an upstart as the Hightowers and he wanted to take Corlys’ power for himself, and so he took advantage of some rumors to discredit Rhaenyra’s children and advance himself.

Things are not black and white, and given Rhaenyra’s nearly impossible situation, exceptions can be made. And these exceptions wouldn’t have affected neither the succession of Driftmark nor that of the Seven Kingdoms.

[yuri-is-online]

Jade narrating the stuff Yuu is doing sounds funny/cute.

Dear annon, objectively you are correct. Jade narrating things sounds funny and cute in general. Unfortunately I have a cold and just took some nyquil ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ Whoops.

notes:they/them used for Yuu, this is a joke tm inspired by this meme. Please do not take this seriously and look at my masterlist for something not written on drugs.

"The humble shrimp, according to all known laws of hydrodynamics should not be able to swim. Their little legs are much too small to propel them through the ocean." Jade does not say this out loud, instead he continues to prop his head up on his hand and observe the Lounge's newest employee slaving away over the stove, signature reserved smile on his face. "The shrimp of course, swims anyway, because the shrimp does not care about what mages think is impossible."

Not that you are cooking for the lounge (yet) Jade had just invited you over for a little... he had said it was to study. What you had no idea, your patience maybe? He certainly hasn't moved since inviting you to help yourself to the Octavinelle kitchen saying something about how "humans have such interesting uses for leftovers."

"Bullshit." You think, punctuating the curse with a particularly harsh scrape to the pan. "He just didn't want to cook his dinner tonight."

"Imagine if you will, a pan of rice." Jade is idly toying with a spoon, swapping between waving it like a conductor or holding it still to speak into it like an announcer. "Truly a blessing to the hungry masses, a staple food if you will."

"Oh please no." You are tempted to spit in his plate but he would just put an unnecessary type of emphasis on thanking you for the food.

"It is presented to you fried," Jade continues, clearly deeply amused with himself "but this time, it has not been fried by a trustworthy fellow human-"

"You are an eel." You decide to settle your need to be petty by giving him the smaller fork, which does get you a regretful sigh but does not stop Jade's recapping the last episode of Twisted Wonderland.

"But by a shrimp." Jade loves it when you cook for him, not that he really wants to admit to that out loud lest you stop. Or huff and puff in embarrassment, he wants to save that for much later. Sometime when you are back in the Coral Sea and tucked neatly against his chest, safe and very much completely his and not able to run away. "The humble shrimp is proud of it's cooking."

"I am not an it, I am your partner." You are not exactly mad, you are proud of your cooking. And proud that, just like he does for his brother, he will eat all of it and then find something to complain about with a big smile on his face. Jade once again twirls his conductor's spoon, with a hum that sounds sort of like an agreement.

"The shrimp is very proud of their cooking," he amends "and the eel is very happy they want to share with him." You push your food around your plate in embarrassment much to his delight. He can't resist pushing you just a bit further, getting up as if to make for a cup but pausing to kiss your cheek before setting his kettle on the stove so it's ready to repay your favor once dinner is done. "Do be gentle with me," says the eel, heart beating horrifically hard against his chest "I am much more fragile than I look." He very much does not expect to see you darting up to kiss his lips when he turns back from the stove, the shrimp darts away with a smug giggle as the eel stands stunned, savoring the warmth of their affection before he returns to his seat.

Yes, the eel thinks he is keeping this one. Forever, ideally.

[teratosfavouritesnack]

Imagine a meet cute with a minotaur while you're grocery shopping.

You're in the skincare and beauty products aisle, a bottle of Mino's Magic and one of Kram's Jam in your hands, your eyes scrolling over the ingredients of the two skin lotions - both containing the miracle-working minotaur's milk, which apparently has anti-aging and moisturising properties that work particularly well on human skin. You've never tried any before, but you'd be down to give it a try if only you knew which one to go for...

"Oh, I wouldn't recommend that one."

You're startled by the sound of a grave but warm voice coming from behind you and you look up only to have your sight completely blocked by a furry muscular chest. It takes a moment for you to crane up your neck enough to meet the amused gaze of the biggest minotaur you've ever had the pleasure to lay your eyes onto. He's also incredibly handsome-

"Huh-??"

"Mino's Magic." he nods at the bottle in your right hand, smirking at your confused and flushed face. "It's got chemicals in it. I wouldn't recommend it."

"Oh. Oh! Okay... Uhm-" You do your best to tear your eyes off of him and focus back on the bottles in your hands. You somehow manage to keep your cool despite your quickened heartbeat. "W-what about this one?"

You hear him huff as if in mock before he steps closer, your shoulder bumping in his side as he leans in to point to the ingredients section of the second lotion, his thick finger brushing against your hand.

"See? It only has 40% of the good stuff. The rest is horseshit. Quite literally."

You blink at him. "What?"

The minotaur barks a laugh, his body so close to yours that you can feel his abdomen tense and shake against your shoulder.

"Kram's got six sons, none pure-breed. Their mother is a weremare. Hence the horseshit."

You chuckle awkwardly in response, placing both the bottles back on the shelf.

"I guess I should have looked better into these products before thinking of buying anything..."

The minotaur gives you a long assessing look, his eyes twinkling in amusement and genuine curiosity.

"It's your first time?"

"Yeah..."

"Do you mind if I give you an advice?"

"I don't mind..."

"Nothing you find on these shelves will ever be 100% pure and reliable, that's why you should only buy homemade lotions made by a minotaur you know and trust. "

"That makes sense but unfortunately I don't know any minotaur..."

His lips instantly curl up in a bigger grin and his chest seems to puff out in pride as he extends his huge calloused hand your way.

"I'm Gust. Short for Gustokis."

You blink back at him, momentarily taken aback by his sudden introduction. Your hand reaches out for his instinctively, and you blurt out your answer quickly after, almost tripping over your words.

"I-I'm Y/N-!"

"Well, Y/N..." His eyes narrow and crinkle as he smirks, his huge hand envelops yours in a warm and firm hold. "Now you know me."

He leans down towards you, his snout almost touching your face and making your breath hitch. "And I'm ready to show you how trustworthy I am. How about a chat over a coffee?"

🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me

[fairuzfan]

hi sorry is there any other way to donate to helpgazachildren? sadly it said my country (east asia) does not support donations to the recipient, and my country only has "plan international" ngo for official donation but I never saw people mentioned this organization so I am not sure how trustworthy it is. sorry again for bothering you!

hello thanks for sending this in. unfortunately we don't have another way to donate other than the paypal.

helpgazachildren is not an organization or official charity but rather a donation drive managed by Hussam in Rafah who is a close friend of a family friend of mine, and through this became a trusted friend of ours from the past month and a half we've known him. you can read the FAQ of the notion site for more information.

if you check my helpgazachildren tag on here, you can see how the money directly impacts people in Rafah so you know that the paypal owner, Hussam, is a trustworthy individual. You can also see the visual receipts/proof of purchases on the notion site.

the people in the north of gaza we are sending money to are also family friends who have taken it upon themselves to scavenge for food and other necessities for the community as much as possible. they've taken it upon themselves to risk their lives trying to find any food to feed the literally starving families of the north. the money sent will be dedicated to purchasing aid.

[maddiethedogstories]

New You Gym - 11

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

"Well, if it isn't just the lying little pants wetter a was looking for!" Julie said with a predatory grin on her face.

Kylee felt a little more urine dribble into her panties as the large woman began stalking towards her. Between the look in Julie's eye and her dominant posture, Kylee felt like a antelope about to be eaten by a lion.

"You thought you could get away with not following through on our bargain, and I wouldn't find out?" Julie raged as she got closer to Kylee. "You didn't think I would have someone check in on you?"

"I... I'm... so sorry," Kylee sputtered as Julie started looming over her. "It was a bad choice."

"Oh, you're right it was a bad choice. I have half a mind to walk up to the CrossFit studio and show your husband this video right now."

Julie pulled up her phone and pressed play on a video that showed everything. Kylee being undressed by Julie, pooping on the training potty, letting herself be wiped by Julie, and cumming at Julie's hand. Kylee's stomach sank with fear and embarrassment.

As Julie played the video, she noticed the puddle forming on floor under Kylee. She started to laugh.

"My God, and I was right too! You have the bladder control of a toddler! And you still decided not to wear at least a pull-up? Pathetic." Julie lectured Kylee. "What am I going to do with you?"

Kylee kept staring at Julie's phone, stunned.

"You... you recorded that?" Kylee asked as she watched herself orgasm while getting her ass wiped by another woman like a toddler.

"Of course, sweetie, we have to record everything that happens in the gym for liability purposes. I also have the video of your little accident in CrossFit, too. Do you want to re-watch that?" Julie asked menacingly.

Kylee could only stammer out, "N-n-no. That's ok."

"That's alright, maybe we can rewatch that later, Little Miss Piddle Pants. In the meantime, though, I asked you a question: What am I going to do with you? Do I need to share this video with Michael?" Julie responded.

"Oh, oh God. Please don't share that with Michael, please! I'll do anything!" Kylee pleaded. Beyond the embarrassment of her husband watching Kylee being treated like a toddler, Kylee knew that he would consider her being brought to orgasm by another person as adultery. Their relationship would be over.

"Anything? I could work with that. You cannot violate the terms of any new agreement we might come to like you did today, understood?" Julie said as she moved into a position hovering over the nervous women wearing urine soaked yoga pants.

"Understood," Kylee said as she broke eye contact with Julie.

"Unfortunately, your word in this is not going to be enough. You already proved that your as trustworthy as the two-year-old you act like. I need you to prove your obedience to me first." Julie stated.

Kylee swallowed nervous. "Ok," she conceded.

"Good," Julie responded, "Now get your pee soaked britches up on that changing table."

Kylee turned around and looked at the gigantic changing table. She knew there was no way she could climb up there without a step stool or a boost from Julie.

"Um, Julie, uh, I mean, Miss Julie, I want to do what you're asking, but I need a, uh, bit of a boost," Kylee said timidly.

"Gah, you really are just a pathetic little thing, aren't you?" Julie said as she grabbed Kylee by the waist and unceremoniously lifted her onto the table.

Kylee gasped at the surprise of being so suddenly lifted, and, also, found herself unfortunately aroused at being manhandled so easily by Julie. Once in the table, however, Kylee knew what to do. She laid on her back and waited for instructions.

Julie began removing Kylee's shoes and wet socks. Once those were removed she expertly yanked Kylee's wet yoga pants and panties off of her. Kylee was uncomfortable with how familiar she was getting to the feeling of having another woman undress her.

Kylee laid naked from the waist down in the changing table. Her pussy, adorned with a full bush, on full display for Julie.

"Just as I remembered, quite hairy. This isn't going to do at all. Hold still," Julie ordered as she produced shaving cream and a razor.

"What are you going to do with that?" Kylee asked, already knowing the answer to her question.

"Ssh, child. I do not need or care about your input right now, that is, unless you want me to show..." Julie was quickly interrupted by Kylee.

"No, no, no. I'll be quiet!"

"Yes, you will," Julie said. Julie then pulled out an extra large pink pacifier and placed the bulb by Kylee's lips. "I want you to suck on this. We will go into more details regarding your new rules soon, but, in the meantime, you must know that when I give you a soother, you have to use it. You are not allowed to remove it from your mouth on your own. Also, while it is in, you are not allowed to speak."

Kylee took the pacifier in her mouth, started sucking on it and nodded her head in affirmation. She was amazed at how the rubber nipple of the pacifier fully filled her mouth. Given how trapped her tongue felt as she sucked, Kylee was fairly certain she couldn't talk with the pacifier in her mouth, even if she tried.

"Good girl, now lay still," Julie ordered. Kylee then watched as Julie quickly and thoroughly shaved away all of her pubic hair until her crotch was completely bare. "There, that should prevent diaper rash a bit."

Kylee's eyes widened in fear at the phrase 'diaper rash.' Was she being downgraded from panties, from even pull-ups, to diapers? Kylee didn't dare remove the pacifier to ask. She got her answer soon as Julie pulled out the largest, thickest diaper she had ever seen.

The diaper in Julie's hand, while clearly sized to fit an adult, was clearly not an 'adult diaper.' It was mostly white in color, but adorned with a childish print with circus animals dancing across the front and back of it. On the back of the diaper, the words "POTTY PANTS" were written in block letters, clearly meant to label the wearer. There was also a yellow wetness indicator down the middle of the diaper to allow a caregiver to visibly check if their charge needed a change. Kylee did not like the implication that came with the strip. It meant the wearer of the diaper couldn't be trusted to tell when they needed a change or not. Finally, the diaper was cut in a style much like an overnight baby diaper. Given the bulk of the diaper, Kylee was certain she would barely be able to walk in the thing. Kylee sucked on her new pacifier harder.

"Oh, I see you recognize this. Good girl! This is the first of what I imagine will be many diapers I get to put you in! Now, raise your little tush up so I can get this on you," Julie said in response to Kylee's bulging eyes.

Kylee, once again, did what Julie asked in the name of her marriage. She raised her soft round ass in the air and allowed Julie to place the padded undergarment underneath her.

"Good girl, now bottom down!" Julie ordered. Kylee complied.

Julie pulled out some diaper cream and squirted it liberally on Kylee's crotch. "Wouldn't want the baby to get a rash!" Julie said as she started rubbing it in to Kylee's skin.

Kylee looked away from Julie, once again turning red at being called a baby. However, Kylee's face soon began to flush for another reason. As Kylee was coming to learn about herself, being babied and humiliated was very much a turn on for her. Also, as Kylee already knew, Julie was VERY skilled with her fingers. As Julie rubbed the diaper lotion in, she paid careful attention to all of the right spots of Kylee's anatomy. Kylee started moaning involuntarily behind the shield of her pacifier.

"Oh, baby likes it when Miss Julie takes care of her, doesn't she? She likes the idea of being my silly little diaper girl?" Julie said.

"Mmmhmmm," Kylee moaned.

"She especially likes all of Miss Julie's **special** attention, doesn't she?" Julie continued.

"Mmmmmmmm..." Kyle continued.

"But, Kylee was a naughty little baby today, wasn't she? Pretending to be a good girl?" Julie asked.

"Uh, huh," Kylee said, beginning to thrust her hips into Julie's hand, but getting nervous as to where this was going. Kylee was so close to cumming. She was mentally willing Julie to work her fingers faster.

"Well, naughty babies who pretend to be big girls shouldn't get special treats, should they?" Julie asked.

At this point, all Kylee could do was buck and moan. She was so close to finishing.

"That's what I thought. So, no big girl treats for baby Kylee from me until she proves herself trustworthy," Julie said, commandingly. With that, she removed her hand from Kylee's throbbing, wet pussy and quicky taped Kylee's sex into the infantile diaper.

Kylee spit out her pacifier. "Noooo...." She bellowed. She was so close to finishing. Having her vagina taped away so suddenly felt like having a floor pulled out from under her.

Julie bent down, picked up the pacifier, and put it back in Kylee's mouth.

"That is not how you prove you are a trustworthy baby, worthy of my treats," Julie said warningly. Kylee blushed and took the pacifier back in her mouth.

"Don't worry Kylee, I am going to give you the opportunity to finish what I just started there, but first, I need you to do something for me."

Staring up at Julie from her place on the changing table, Kylee nodded her head up and down. Kylee's hands also started to drift towards the front of her diaper. She started rubbing the padding before Julie slapped her hand away.

"Stop that! You just keep proving what a toddler you are. I told you you would have the opportunity to finish, but you need to wait!" Julie commanded. "Now, get your padded behind off this changing table."

Kylee complied and climbed off the table. When her feet hit the ground, her suspicions about the thickness of the diaper were confirmed. The padding between her legs was so think she had to stand with her legs splayed apart to an almost comical distance. If Kylee wanted to walk at all, she would have a very pronounced waddle, not unlike that of a real toddler.

"Good," said Julie, looking proudly at her handy work, "now, I need you to prove how committed you are to being properly padded in the gym. If you want to come to any sort of deal with me that keeps me from showing Michael everything that has happened down here, you need to shit that diaper, right now, and when you are done, I want you to finish what I just started."

Kylee's stomach dropped in disgust, but, to her surprise, her pussy throbbed with arousal. Julie was asking her to willing play out the nightmare she had had just a few days before in real life. Worse yet, for the sake of her relationship, she had no choice but to comply.

With no other options, Kylee did what she had to, mimicking the infantalized dream version of herself. She dropped into a low squat, the bottom of the diaper she was wearing--her diaper, she thought with a shudder--hovering barely off the floor. She balled up her fists and started pushing. It felt almost exactly like her disturbing wet dream from the night after her last trip to the gym.

Kylee grunted cutely from behind her pacifier as she scrunched up her face in concentration. Before she released her load, the forthcoming contents of her bowels announced themselves with a few, loud, trumpeting farts. Then, Kylee felt it happen. Thick, solid feces started to slide out of her asshole as deposit itself in her waiting diaper. She could hear the plastic backing of the diaper crinkle as the back expanded with the addition of her surprisingly massive mess. Kylee could also feel the weight of each turd adding to the weight of the diaper taped to her hips. It felt as if someone was slowly depositing rotten fruit in her panties, one piece at a time.

Julie watched the entire show with an amused and matronly grin.

"Good baby," Julie said, looking down at the grown woman, squatting in a messy diaper, sucking on a pacifier. "Now it is time for you to finish what I started."

Kylee couldn't lie to herself. As disgusting as it was to be wearing a messy diaper, being humiliated and degraded like this turned her on to a level she had never reached before. She was ready to finish Julie's request.

NEXT CHAPTER

[drunk-on-dk]

Best Neighbor of All Time Award | Lee Seokmin (M)

✦pairing: neighbor!Seokmin x fem!reader

✦genre: fluffy? before the SMUT (minors DNI)

✦wc: ~6.4 and some change (most likely, still pending a deep proofread)

✦summary: Seokmin is the best neighbor you've ever had, making it impossible not to fall for his charms.

NSFW warnings under the cut, minors do not read, 18+ only

✦warnings: no specific pronouns used, but reader has female anatomy & wears a skirt; pet names (sweetheart); switch!Seokmin; switch!reader; mention of masturbation; unprotected sex (pls be safe and wrap it before u tap it friends); fingering; oral (male receiving); creampie; some choking? some degradation? some humiliation? some orgasm denial? some overstim? hello? am i ok?

✦a/n: hi this was created from this lovely ask here. thank you thank you thank you for sending that in kind anon. tbh, this was originally a fic for jun, but when i got this ask I felt inspired to rewrite this about DK. (i'm really hoping to get more fics out about more members, but my mind went haywire from this request)

If such an award existed, you’d grant Lee Seokmin the Best Neighbor of All Time Award. Living next to Seokmin proved to be one of your most symbiotic relationships, even if he was just a trustworthy neighbor before becoming a good friend of yours. 

You had first met him when a package of yours was delivered to his apartment rather than yours, signing for the delivery without even checking the addressee and tearing into the box without hesitation.  Only then did he realize the package was filled with clothing he couldn’t quite remember ordering, reevaluating the packing slip, and panicking when he realized the delivery was addressed to the person next door.

Flustered, Seokmin appeared at your doorstep, ears tinted an endearing shade of red as he knocked at your front door and nervously held the opened package to his chest. When you cracked the door open with a soft, polite smile adorning your very pretty features, Seokmin could have sworn he felt the blush spread from his ears like rapid fire throughout his chest and face, as he hadn’t expected someone around his age (and notably attractive) to live right next door to him. He felt even more like a fool with your package in his hand, which he had so blatantly ripped into, and felt like he had invaded your privacy before ever meeting you.

However, Seokmin felt more at ease when you greeted him without hesitation, the door opening wider as your smile broadened, “oh, I recognize you. You live right next door, right? I’m Y/N, sorry I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself yet, I just moved in about a week or so ago.”

Admittedly, Seokmin felt a bit silly that he hadn’t recognized you when you had clearly recognized him, but he didn’t bask in it as he introduced himself, “I’m Seokmin, but my friends call me DK,” you watched as he nervously ruffled his hair, eyes flickering to the package held tightly in his other hand, “and I am so sorry, but I was delivered your package and opened it myself.”

You let out the most saccharine laugh he’s sworn he’s ever heard, graciously accepting the package, and further easing Seokmin’s nerves from how pleasant you seemed. “No worries,” your expression jokingly shifted to one that was skeptical, “you didn’t see anything incriminating or suggestive in here, did you?”

You found it charming how the tall, handsome man seemed to stutter at your question, noting how easy it was to make him flustered. With a giggle, you let him off the hook as he struggled to find his words, “Just kidding, thank you for dropping this off. I’ll see you around then, DK?”

Seokmin let out a little laugh alongside you, cursing himself for acting so out of character around you, but he blames it on the unfortunate circumstances of how he had to meet his new neighbor. “Yeah, see you around,” he gives you a little wave as you tuck behind your door, closing it gently as you wave back, “nice to meet you, Y/N.”

He can hear a little “you too!” escape from the crack of your door as you shut it, finally allowing him to breathe out in relief as he heads back to his apartment. Little did he know, you were pressed up against your door, a hand gently slapping your cheek in embarrassment that you asked him if he came across anything incriminating or suggestive, unbelieving that you had asked him such a thing upon first meeting him.

Your neighborly friendship with Seokmin only blossomed from there, the next interaction you had with him being in the elevator a few days later. You had both made small talk and exchanged numbers, Seokmin letting you know that you shouldn’t ever hesitate to give him a call if you ever need anything.

Seokmin didn’t expect you to take him up so quickly on the offer though, phone buzzing later that same night with your name appearing on his screen. He couldn’t help the smile that creeped onto his face at seeing your name, quickly picking up your call and ready to tease you for calling him so soon. However, he especially wasn’t expecting to hear your frantic tone, barely able to make out your words as you spoke quickly into the phone.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Seokmin interrupted you finally, “you need to slow down, Y/N. I’m walking over now.” He was already out the front door of his apartment, about to knock at your door as you finally let out a coherent sentence.

“The door is unlocked,” you cried out, “just let yourself in.”

With that, Seokmin burst into your apartment without further hesitation, hanging up the phone to find you standing atop your counters with a broom in hand. He began to approach you, further confused by the situation, but only wanting to offer consolation.

“Stop!” You squealed, halting his movements mid-step, and pointing down at the ground directly in front of you. Seokmin’s gaze followed in the direction you were pointing; your quiet whimpers were suddenly drowned out by his own shouts as he realizes what you were afraid of. An extremely large spider stood in the middle of your kitchen, eerily standing still as you both panicked.

Seokmin embarrassingly enough found himself crouched up on one of your barstools, reaching for the broom in your hand as he continued to let out shouts of terror himself. He frantically batted at the spider, attempting to crush the damned arachnid with your weapon of choice, only for you to interrupt him mid-swat.

“No,” you wailed out in despair, “don’t kill it.”

“What do you want me to do,” Seokmin was unbelieving, saucer-like eyes staring into yours as he watched the spider scurry across the floor towards him.

You handed him the dustpan, panic clear in your tone, “I don’t know, sweep it up into this and throw him out the window.”

Seokmin obliged, trying not to make himself look like any more of a coward in front of you as he hopped down from the stool and swiftly swept the spider up into the dustpan, hauling across the kitchen to shake the spider out of your open window. Of course, all of this was done with consistent hoots and hollers on his end.

After all was said and done, Seokmin found himself breathlessly leaning against your window, absolutely taxed from the whole event. Seokmin only came back to reality upon hearing your melodious laugh, turning around to see you still on your countertops, curled into a little ball as you uncontrollably laughed.

“Hey,” Seokmin shouted, approaching you with his finger pointed in your direction, and he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips as well. In false seriousness, gently poking at you as you held onto your side to contain your laughter, “are you laughing at my demise? Who’s the one who called me in sheer panic?”

“I’m sorry,” you managed to squeak out in between laughs, “but this whole thing was just too funny in hindsight.” Your cheeks hurt from laughing so hard, only laughing more as Seokmin joins you, but still seeming a bit embarrassed as he shoves your broom into a corner of your apartment.

You feel bad for laughing, so you slide off your countertop and walk towards him with your arms out, a cheesy smile on your face. “C’mon, bring it in, big guy.”

Hesitantly, Seokmin accepts your hug, an awkward hand patting your shoulder as you embrace his much larger frame. He’s stiff and he’s not sure why; eyes still wide when you pull away and lift his hand up to high-five your own. Honestly, you’re not sure why you went in for a hug, only trying to offer some consolation, but your already pounding heart seemed to only get worse.

“Thanks for coming over and helping,” you suddenly feel a bit sheepish, but still try to make ease of it all, “even though you seem a bit scared of bugs as well. I appreciate it, I owe you one, neighbor.”

Seokmin relaxes a bit, noticing you’re a bit embarrassed yourself, “no problem, Y/N. I told you to give me a call anytime.” He’s ready to dismiss himself, ready to head back to his own apartment. Why must every interaction with you be slightly embarrassing for him?

“You better watch what you offer out,” you joke, earning a chuckle from Seokmin as he exits your apartment.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Good luck getting sleep tonight after knowing that was in your house.”

You giggle a bit, bidding Seokmin a goodnight as well as you watch him shut your door, heart still pounding erratically in your chest.  You were done for; you absolutely knew it. How could you get so lucky, having an extremely handsome neighbor who is just the right amount sweet and chaotic? You refused to fantasize about any relationship with him though, knowing it was extremely premature of you and you didn’t want to get carried away with a crush on someone right next door.

You did everything to suppress your excitement when you’d see Seokmin within the halls of your apartment complex, when he’d send you texts informing you of local events, or when you could slightly hear him singing to himself through the thin wall that divided your apartments.  

Once you had made yourself a bit too large of a batch of brownies, deciding to bring a tray over to Seokmin’s as a treat for being so welcoming and helpful to you. You won’t ever forget how his eyes lit up upon opening the door to you, excitedly exclaiming what a delightful surprise it was to see you and inviting you inside with your tray of brownies. You especially won’t forget the way his smile extended to his eyes when he took a bite of the treat, letting you know that these were the best brownies he’s ever had in his life.

He made you feel like a high schooler all over again, feeling giddy from his praise as he continued to snack on the chocolate treat. You took this time to look around his apartment, the space being just as comforting and warm as he was. Seokmin offered you a glass of wine that night, asking if you’d like to try some of the new bottle of red wine that he had started sipping on. You obliged when he claimed that it was the least he could do after you brought over the brownies, but you would have agreed regardless to spend more time with him.

You weren’t sure if it was the wine or Seokmin that made you feel tingly that night, mirroring Seokmin’s smile when he asked if you liked the wine, “I like it a lot,” you claimed. I like you a lot, you thought.

After that, Seokmin had gifted you wine occasionally, handing it to you with that signature smile of his, and always including a handwritten note tied around the neck of the bottle. Sometimes he’d come over with a six-pack of beer. Sometimes you’d invite him in to join you on you couch; you both would end up drinking the entire six-pack, bent over in laughter after making fun of whatever stupid rom com you had been watching. Sometimes you’d find yourself getting a little too drunk, tears spilling out over nothing as Seokmin held you to his chest, hushing and consoling you even though he’s not sure why you are crying in the first place. Sometimes you’d both end up dancing to the credit scene music, laughing and talking the night away. Nothing ever came of these nights though, other than your budding friendship, and your burgeoning one-sided crush on him.

One morning you had seen Seokmin in passing, the usually lively man looking sickly and bundled up, still sending a smile your way to greet you. You had asked him what was wrong, and he claimed he just had a simple cold. You couldn’t help but feel guilty every time you heard his cough from the other side of the wall.

Later that evening, you were sure to bring over some homemade chicken noodle soup, herbal tea, and medicine for him. You had texted him prior to bringing the remedy over, making sure he wasn’t sleeping, and he let you know just to let yourself in. You found yourself keeping him company all night, even if it meant you risked getting sick yourself, claiming that these were part of your neighborly duties and that he’d do the same for you. Seokmin was a bit skeptical, but he sure did enjoy having you around (and he would do the same for you).

All these events and more have led to an undeniable friendship, both of you living symbiotically and constantly being there for one another. It was hard to suppress any emotions you felt for him at this point, and you found yourself reading into his actions a bit too much. You were even guilty of inviting dates over purely in hopes that he would overhear you conversing with them through the walls and become jealous. You’d always end up unsuccessful, booting them from your apartment before they ever had the chance with you.

You’d become shameless when you’d find yourself in bed later at night, touching yourself to the thoughts of Seokmin, crying out his name upon your release. This was the only time you ever wished Seokmin couldn’t hear you, cheeks heating up in embarrassment after realizing how loud you may have been from just a little fantasy and feeling a bit dishonorable.

It had now been months into your friendship, consistently being good neighbors to one another, and you were excited to say you were learning all the small things about Seokmin, as he was about you. He had become your movie and tv-series watching partner, wine and beer-drinking partner, shoulder to cry on, and overall hype man.

You were the same for him, being sure to cheer him on even when it hurt deep down. Even when he showed up at your door with a bouquet of roses, nervously chewing at his bottom lip, you did everything to contain your excitement. Which quickly died down when he asked if he looked okay, letting you know he had a date tonight and wasn’t sure if he was overdressed.

Trying not to sound dejected, you put on your best smile and gave him a thumbs up. “You look absolutely handsome, Seokmin, they are extremely lucky whoever they are.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he’d smile the widest you’d ever seen him smile, hand slipping behind your head to pull you in for a quick forehead kiss. “Don’t forget I’m having some people over tomorrow for a party, you’re invited, I want you to meet all my friends.”

All of this made your stomach erupt in butterflies, the spot on your forehead where his lips had pressed against tingled uncomfortably and the thought of being introduced to his friends made your cheeks heat up even more. You were sure they’d all be just like him, and you weren’t sure you could handle it. “I’ll be there, don’t you worry. Have fun tonight, Seok!”

You’d watch him disappear into the elevator after he bid you goodnight, jokingly scolding you for not having something fun planned for a Friday night, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to enjoy it anyways knowing he was out on a date. It’s not something you're proud of, but that night you prayed that the date went horribly, attempting to stay up to hear if he had brought his date home, but your heavy eyelids betrayed you before you could ever find out.

The next day, you found yourself preparing in advance for Seokmin’s party, taking your time in the shower, and performing a whole self-care routine. You were someone who always thought to hell with the male gaze, so why did you care so much about what you looked like tonight, you only ever dressed or got ready for yourself. Seokmin has also seen you at your worst; bedhead, matted Hello-Kitty robe, wine-stained teeth, and all.

Maybe you were a bit overdressed for a simple apartment party. Maybe the leather skirt, tights, and boots were a bit of an overkill if you were being honest, but you could argue that Seokmin’s outfit for his date last night was a bit of an overkill, especially with those roses. Maybe you were being a bit petty, and you should reconsider your outfit for your own self-preservation. However, the skirt and tights were already on, and it was an achievement in itself to not rip the nylon fabric.

The music next door for Seokmin’s party had already begun, hearing the celebratory cheers in the hall as his friends seemingly began to arrive. It all made you extremely nervous, even though you consider yourself friendly and sociable you were still shy in nature. The loud chatter through the walls only made you anxious, taking a shot of the untouched vodka that had been in the back of your freezer in hope that you’d gain some confidence. Grabbing the rack of beers that you had purchased in advance for the party, you had finally mustered up enough courage to march over to Seokmin’s apartment, not wanting to arrive too fashionably late.

To your surprise, an incredibly handsome man that was not Seokmin opened the door. He was tall, with sharp canines that made his pretty smile even more charming. The man quickly noticed the rack of beers in your hand, the heavy case making you a bit unbalanced as you anxiously stand at the front door.

“Y/N?” The man asks, his soft voice surprising you, and you feverishly nod as he reaches to grab the case of beers from your hand, noticing your struggle. “I’m Mingyu, come on in. DK can’t stop talking about how he can’t wait for us to meet you.”

You shuffle in behind him, muttering a thank you as he turns to the rest of the crew in the apartment, holding the rack of beers up victoriously as he announces your presence. Seokmin is quick to dash over to you upon noticing your arrival, excusing himself from the group that he was in the corner of his kitchen and making his way over to you.

An arm of his snakes around your waist prior to introducing you to all his friends. “All, this is Y/N, my neighbor who I seriously don’t know what I’d do without,” he chuckles, and you feel extremely self-conscious under the gaze of his unexpectedly large group of friends. Still, you can’t hold back the smile as he tugs you a bit closer to him, seeming to notice your discomfort.

“Nice to meet you all,” you smile, feeling more at ease as the group welcomes you in, introducing themselves one at a time as Mingyu slips a chilled beer into your hands.

You quickly feel comfortable, the group of friends being delightful as you had suspected, all of them being as funny and charming as Seokmin is. You’re also quick to pick up on some of their dynamics, especially after the one named Soonyoung, who made it clear that he really goes by Hoshi, seems to spill a bit too much information about the group to you.

“That’s Jeonghan,” he slurs as you follow his gaze, remembering him as the overtly sweet boy with a cute chuckle, “he seems all innocent, but be sure to keep an eye on him when you play any games tonight. Then, that is Seungcheol and his girlfriend. He acts all tough, but he’s an absolute simp.”

Hoshi continues dishing all the gossip as you sip down your first beer. It’s quite enjoyable, laughing at all his jokes as he shares all their little nuances. Seokmin finds himself watching you most of the night, unable to hold back his smile as he watches you bond with his friends.

As if Mingyu could sense you had finished your first drink, he appears at your side and hands you a fresh beer, sitting closely next to you. The feeling of his thigh on yours is enough to make your body heat up feverishly. Not that you notice, but Seokmin is sure to take note of how close his friend has gotten to you, as well as the painstakingly pretty blush on your cheeks.

“Ah,” Hoshi unexpectedly raises his voice, making both you and Mingyu jump a bit in shock. “That’s Mingyu, he’s fun to pick on. Anyways, what do you want to know about DK, Y/N?”

Both you and Mingyu chuckle at Hoshi’s antics, and you hum in thought, “hmm, what is something you think I don’t know about him?”

Hoshi chuckles evilly, “well, you should know that –,” and as if Mingyu knows what he is going to say before the tipsy boy can even utter another word, he reaches across your body to cover his mouth and pull him away from you.

Finally noticing Seokmin’s attention on you from across the room as Mingyu pulls Hoshi away, you make your way over to him as he watches you intently, sipping on the beer in hand.

“What was that about?” Seokmin chuckles, feeling slightly nervous about the interaction and still a bit unsettled by Mingyu’s not-so-sly advances.

You laugh, leaning against the counter with Seokmin, head subconsciously resting on his shoulder as you watch his friends mingle amongst each other. “Your friend Hoshi is a hoot; you should hear all the tea he was spilling about you guys. He may be my favorite other than you.”

Seokmin’s heart warms at your last statement, but he can’t hide the little green-eyed monster that burns inside of him. “What about Mingyu?”

You seem confused by his question, head turning from his shoulder to look up at him with starry eyes and pouty lips. “What do you mean?”

Seokmin feels the fire within him burn a bit hotter, feeling lost for words when you look up at him like that. “Nothing,” he mutters, realizing there is nothing for him to worry about at this moment. He takes this chance to dip his lips down towards your ear, brushing your hair back gently as he whispers to you, “you look very pretty tonight, Y/N.”

His fingers burn into the back of your neck, goosebumps littering your skin from his touch and the way his hot breath feels as he whispers in your ear. You’re suddenly shy again, muttering out a bleak "thank you" as your freehand grips his forearm, arousal pooling at your core from the way his dark eyes bore into yours. Something has finally shifted, and you both can feel it.

When he pulls away, you’re taunted by that smile of his, and you know he feels accomplished by his effect on you. This ignites something in you, scanning the room to see what state of mind his friends are in, and taking note that they are all irreparably drunk and in their own world.

It’s your turn to whisper in his ear now, standing on your tippy toes as you ask him a simple question, “I’ve never seen your bedroom before, Seokmin. Care to show me it?”

No time is wasted as Seokmin wraps his fingers through yours, guiding you hastily to his room at the end of the hall, exactly like the layout of your apartment. You feel a bit embarrassed, realizing that his bedroom is indeed opposite of yours, remembering all the nights you’ve coaxed yourself to orgasm just from thoughts of him.

Your disappearance seems to go unnoticed, the music and lively conversations continuing in Seokmin’s living room. Not that it even matters, the sound dying out the second Seokmin slams his lips against yours. Your ears are ringing from the contact, the absolute bliss of feeling his soft lips on yours wracking your entire body with delight, hungrily kissing him back as you wrap your hands around his neck and press your torso closer to his.

His kisses are so rough, yet careful, long, and desperate as his hands begin to roam your body, playfully squeezing at your hips and ass. You keen into him, nose nudging his as your tongue begs for entry, teeth biting at his bottom lip. Seokmin lets you lead, drinking you in for the first time, loving how sweet you still tasted after drinking beer all night with his friends.

Seokmin’s surprised when your lips move down his neck, letting out a gasp as you nibble at his skin. He’s holding onto your waist as if you’d disappear on him, hands pulling out the shirt tucked into your skirt, and slipping the top off you as you suckle on his neck. He’s thankful for the brief loss of contact, the feeling of you on his skin becoming all too intoxicating for him. You’re swift to reattach to him though, plush lips roaming his jaw and neck before reattaching to his lips.

Seokmin is desperate to keep kissing you, needy hands roaming your back before unclasping your bra expertly and enjoying the way you moan into the kiss as he pulls the garment off your chest. You don’t hesitate to guide his hands towards your breasts, encouraging him to touch you, and he takes your cue. He massages at the soft mounds, the kiss between you two becoming hotter as your lower half grinds against his, his fingers tweaking your nipples and making you cry out pathetically.

You can’t wait any longer, detaching your lips from Seokmin’s to drop down to your knees, shaky hands working at his belt as you watch him from under your eyelids. Seokmin swears he could cum right then and there, loving the darkness in your typically bright eyes, and losing it over how swollen your lips are already from just kissing you. It’s sinful how you look beneath him, with no top or bra on, just in your skirt and tights as you desperately pull his pants down. He’s a whiny mess, hand finding itself in your hair as he waits in anticipation.

“Is this okay, Seok?” You ask, voice like honey as you palm at his erection through his boxers. Oh, you can already tell he’s big, his cock feeling hot through the thin fabric, and holding back the temptation to lick the bit of precum that has leaked through.

“Fuck,” he’s groaning out lowly, “this is more than okay, sweetheart.”

Your heart flutters at the endearing pet name, never usually liking that sort of stuff, but when it’s him, it works for you. You pull his boxers down finally, his length hot and heavy exactly like you expected it to be, precum leaking out of the tip and making you hyper-aware of how wet you are yourself.

You take your time licking up his shaft, the man above you shuttering in bliss as you slowly wrap your lips around his tip. You’re completely in control, loving the way he shakes at your touch as he pleads for you to take him in completely. Your eyes flicker back up to his, a darkness in them that you’ve never seen before, and Seokmin’s hips buck into your mouth uncontrollably.

He’s quick to pull you off him, shocked by his own reflexes, and muttering out apologies. However, this only turned you on more, taking him back into your mouth and wasting no time to start messily sucking his cock. He’s groaning out, hand tangling itself even more in your hair as he refrains from bucking into your mouth.

Your hands are clawing at his hips, trying to keep him from fucking your mouth too roughly, but you love it. You didn’t think Seokmin had it in him honestly. Moaning around his length, your tongue works at the veins of his shaft as you hollow your cheeks out. He’s painfully hard, you can tell, and if you could, you’d mutter out praises as he does a good job at not thrusting into your mouth.

You can feel the saliva spilling from the sides of your mouth, Seokmin loves how much of a mess you look below him, tears forming in your eyes at the way the tip of his cock the back of your throat occasionally. He loves how you continue to moan around his cock, watching as your hips desperately grind against nothing as your fingertips dig crescent moons into his hips. He groans as your moans get more and more wonton, loving the way the vibrations feel as you needily suck and lick at his length.

You finally find yourself wrapping a hand around him, the lubrication from your spit providing more than enough glide as you work at his shaft. You can feel him pulsing in your mouth and hand, his groans and whimpers becoming more frequent as he uncontrollably thrusts into your mouth. “Shit,” he’s groaning out, heavily breathing as you continue to jerk and suck him off, “so fucking messy, sweetheart.”

“Be a good boy, Seok,” you finally pull away, noticing how his length is throbbing and how his thrusts are getting more desperate. He’s trying his best to refrain and listen, but your mouth just feels too fucking good and you look so fucking sexy.

He’s crying out softly, nodding as you take him back in, spitting on his cock lewdly as you continue your ministrations. Humming against in cock in praise does not help him one bit, immediately disobeying you, and you pull away to remind him who is in control.

“I’ll be good,” he’s groaning, his erection feeling almost painful at this point from how overstimulated he felt. “Fuck, I promise.”

You tsk out, feeling confident from your effect on Seokmin, and you continue to work at his shaft with your hands, lips shiny and swollen, driving Seokmin deeper into oblivion. He feels so close to his orgasm, hoping you’ll let him finish just this once, swearing internally that he’ll make it up to you.

“You’re not being so good, Seok, you keep fucking my hands and mouth. Are you that needy?” You’re pouting out, hand tightening at the base of his cock and making something in him snap.

Much to your surprise, Seokmin is lifting you from where you’re kneeling on the ground and throwing you face down onto the bed. He’s quick to unzip your boots, roughly tugging your skirt and tights down before running a finger over your sopping cunt.

You’re pushing back into him, the feeling of his fingers over your heat making you chase his hand as he teasingly gathers your essence before rubbing your clit briefly. His fingers gently slap your folds, making you moan out in shock.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Seokmin is bent over you, cock heavy against your ass as he whispers in your ear. “Be a good sweetheart for me now.”

Gasping out, you’re nearly crying when he dips two fingers in between your folds, and your walls immediately take them in. He’s chuckling lowly, fingers scissoring in and out of you as you squirm against his sheets, unable to take back control when his other hand is quick to hold your hips down. He’s much stronger than you ever expected, shocked, and further turned on by how quickly he switched roles on you.

“Who would have thought the sweetheart next door would be creaming all over my fingers,” he coos out, loving the squelching sound of your pussy as he continues to curl his fingers inside of you, denying you of your orgasm when you inevitably clamp even tighter around his fingers. You can feel his smile against your back, teeth and lips working against your skin as he leans over you, no longer applying enough pressure to your clit and making you feel empty again upon removing his fingers. “See how that feels, Y/N? Doesn’t feel so good when you’re on the other side, hm?”

“Seok,” you’re whining out, grinding your hips back into his, and you feel a bit of satisfaction when you feel him keen into you, hot breath running down your spine. “Please, no more games. Just fuck me already. I’m tested and on the pill.”

He no longer has any self-control, but he makes sure he keeps his dominance as his tip prods at your center, fighting the way your tight walls try to suck him in. It proves to be difficult as Seokmin shallowly thrusts inside of you, hot, slick walls clamping around his cock as he bottoms out.

It all feels so dirty, Seokmin thrusting into you, loving the way your walls flutter around his cock as he teasingly pulls in and out. The distant sound of music and his friends in the background, only remembering their presence when he hears a celebratory cheer from the group, assumingly from the intense drinking game taking place in the living room.

You’re a whimpering mess beneath him, crying out about how good he feels inside of you, how big he is, and how full you feel. This only makes him fuck you harder, loving how vulgar and lewd you are in his grasp, pulling out to only slam his hips into your ass, his tip hitting deep inside you exactly where you need him most.

Seokmin shamelessly watched the way your ass bounced against him, hands finding purchase in your hair as he pulls you back up against his chest. He whispers in your ear like he did earlier, mercilessly fucking into you as he says, “you look so fucking pretty tonight, Y/N. All dressed up for me, weren’t you?”

Your head lolls back onto his shoulder, his hand loosening its grip on your hair as they make its way around your throat. He’s still gentle, long fingers wrapping around your neck to hold you in place as he nips at your ear, waiting for your response. “Yes,” you gasp out, feeling him repeatedly hit the spongey spot inside of you, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable as the coil inside of you tightens. “All for you, Seok.”

You’re holding onto his forearms, bouncing against him as you feel his pace start to become a bit sloppy, and you’re only tightening around him even more, loving how carnal he is when his grip tightens around your neck, pulling your lips against him. You feel so breathless, so consumed by him in all ways possible.  

“Are you close, sweetheart?” He’s mumbling against your lips, and you can tell he’s close himself, feeling him throbbing inside of you as you rock back into him to meet his thrusts. You’re nodding desperately, enjoying how his fingernails dig into the delicate skin of your neck, teeth pulling at your bottom lip as you moan into his own. One hand makes its way down to your clit, thumb working circles at the bud and almost making you collapse. “I want to hear you cry out my name then, sweetheart, just like I hear you do through those walls.”

Just like that, you’re spasming around him, pleasure taking you over like pure ecstasy as you cry out his name, slightly humiliated but beyond sated as you feel yourself gush around him. “Seokmin,” you still cry out, feeling overstimulated, but needing him to fill you. “Inside me, Seok, please.”

“Fuck, anything since you’ve been so good for me, sweetheart,” and with that he is painting your walls, hot cum spilling deep inside of you as he pulls you in for one more harsh kiss. You continue to slowly grind back on him, getting off on how he shakes behind you and groans into the kiss.  “So, so good,” he is mumbling against your lips, slowly pushing you off him and you cry out a bit from the loss of warmth and fullness.

Seokmin begins to take care of you but allows himself to watch as his cum drips from your folds, down your thigh. He comes to when you giggle a bit, shaking your hips at him to remind him that he’s supposed to be cleaning up. Seokmin lets out a puff of laughter, helping to clean you up before assisting you in getting dressed. Slowly, Seokmin pulls your tights back up your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he gently pulls the fabric up, ensuring not to ruin the integrity of the delicate nylon.

You feel love drunk, soaking in the way he treats you so well after fucking you so roughly. You giggle uncontrollably when he nuzzles his nose into your neck, blowing affectionate raspberries into the skin before kissing your cheek.

He can see all the stars in your eyes like this, staring into them between each peppered kiss as he praises you for being so good for him, whispering sweet nothings of how lucky he is to have met you.

You’re overwhelmed by it all, pulling him into a deep kiss again, but Seokmin, unfortunately, pulls away. “Y/N, please don’t get me worked up again, all my friends are out there. We have so much time to do this again.”

“You’re right,” your lips betray you, pulling him in for another kiss. You feel giddy at him mentioning doing this all again. He gives you a serious look that molds into one of endearment. “Okay, okay. No, you’re right.”

Finally, sitting up, you both compose and fully dress yourselves, sneaking kisses every so often.

“Your friends are going to hate me, Seok,” you chuckle when he pulls you in for one last embrace, pulling you close to him after spinning you around, taking in how beautiful you look.

“Nope,” he smiles, knowing that you’ve already bonded enough with his friends, and he’s sure they all have had an inkling he was obsessed with you from how much he’s spoken about you, “you’ve absolutely won them over just like you’ve won me over.”

Seokmin was right, the group soon would become some of your closest friends. Other than cringing at how sickeningly you and Seokmin were in love, his group of friends was thankful he’d found you. Similarly, you were thankful you found Seokmin. You’ve never felt so at home and loved, all thanks to moving in next to Seokmin.

Really, if such a thing existed, you’d grant Lee Seokmin the Best Neighbor of All Time Award. Never mind that title, instead, you’d now grant Lee Seokmin the Best Boyfriend of All Time Award.

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: paparazzi

pairing: grayson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: you’re running away from the paparazzi and you bump into a gorgeous stranger who offers to buy you a drink

warnings: mild swearing

a/n: this was a request from an anon who wanted to see grayson hawthorne x reader where the reader is a famous singer. I hope you enjoy… this is what I managed to come up with. Note: this is the grayson equivalent of starstruck for jameson

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @peterlcsingwendy @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @zoyaaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @f4iry-bell

I step out of the recording studio at exactly 6:23 am. I’d stayed there over night with a few people to try and get the sound I wanted from the new single I hoped to drop soon. Unfortunately I hadn’t managed to accomplished what I’d set out to do, so now I’m just feeling pretty lousy and absolutely exhausted. It’s so early in the morning that I wasn’t expecting to be met with bold flashes of several cameras as soon as I stepped foot out of the building. I curse under my breath and begin to walk in the opposite direction as quickly as I could. I swear one of these days I’ll be blinded. I wish I hadn’t decided to wear heels as they were not proving useful.

The paparazzi were relentless as per usual and continued to follow me down several different roads. They cry out my name and various questions. I begin to wonder who’s tipped them off that I was there, no one was supposed to know. But I let the curiosity die quickly. I glance behind me and realise they’re closer than I realised. So mutter a quick prayer and begin to run. As fast as I can in my heels. I knew for a fact I looked like a wild idiot, but I didn’t care now I needed to get away. The flashes were more frequent now, the clicking of the cameras louder. My feet are screaming for me to stop, my breath shallow. I really should plan my outfits better. Just when I think I’m screwed, I notice a small, secluded alleyway and decide to take the chance and run down it. I hope they didn’t notice.

On the corner is the door to a coffee shop, so I take the chance and dash in. Not many places are open at this time, so I count my lucky stars as breathlessly a make my way to the counter. I make sure my back is turned to the window, so prying eyes won’t recognise my face if they pass. I grip into the counter and catch my breath back.

“You look like you could use a coffee,” says a voice directed at me.

I look up to see a well dressed man, looking at me. He looks slightly recognisable but not enough for me to know exactly who he was. He had pretty grey eyes that stood out against his pale complexion and golden hair.

“Thanks, nice to know I look as horrendous as I feel,” I scoff sarcastically, not realising what I’d said be for the word had left my lips.

“You don’t look horrendous,” he offers kindly, too kindly.

“You just told me I look like I could use a coffee,” I state, running my fingers through a matted clump of hair.

“That was my way of offering to buy you a drink,” he explains to me.

“Oh…” I say, my eyes wide as red creeps up my cheeks.

I felt so stupid and horrible. This poor guy was trying to be nice, which he didn’t have to be, and I had totally just shut him down.

“Oh god sorry,” I ramble, “that was totally rude and-“

He laughs, thankfully cutting of my meaningless waffling, “don’t worry. Let me rephrase, can I buy you a drink?”

“Do you really want to?” I ask, arms folded, looking at him quizzically.

“Yes I really want to,” he assures me.

“Then that would be nice,” I agree.

He seemed trustworthy enough, though I was really going to regret saying that later is he turned out to be some sort of axe murderer. The coffee barista who looked as equally exhausted as I felt asks for our order. I quickly murmur to the man who offered to buy me a coffee what I wanted and he orders two of the same. He very kindly pays and the barista goes off to make the drinks.

“Sorry again about that,” I laugh sheepishly, “it’s too early for me in the morning to function politely.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he shrugs, “believe me I’ve had much worse interactions.”

I look him up and down, trying to gage who he might work for. A finance department maybe? Or maybe he was lawyer? Though he looked awfully young.

“You look too fancy to be hanging out in a coffee shop,” I say, trying to fish for some answers.

“Is that because I’m wearing a suit in 6:30 in the morning?” he asks me.

“Possibly,” I say, my eyes trailing down, “and those shoes.”

He chuckles softly, “even fancy people need coffee.”

“So you are a fancy person?” I reply, cocking my head towards him.

“Possibly,” he smiles, mirroring what I’d said to him.

I purse my lips, still trying to work this guy out. Presumably he was rich, the guy even looks expensive. And he seems too perfect to be real. I lean back an analyse him. He looks to be around twenty or so and holds himself with confidence. He doesn’t even look the slightest bit tired despite the time.

“Here’s your coffees,” the barista says, her expression flat and her tone even flatter, “enjoy.”

“I’ve never heard someone sound so melancholy saying the word enjoy,” I mutter once she’s gone around the corner.

He grins, “maybe she’s not a morning person.”

“I mean fair enough there,” I say. He passes me my cup and guides me to a table, “oh thank you.”

“I’m Grayson,” he tells me as we sit down, shifting his eyes so they exactly meet mine.

“Y/N,” I say, opting not to use a pseudonym as I would usually do. Something about him settled me, made me feel like I didn’t need to hide who I really was.

He smiles slightly and stares wistfully elsewhere.

“What?” I ask him as I take a large sip of my coffee.

The caffeine enters my blood stream and flows straight to my brain. Suddenly my energy levels are raised and I’m more alert. I actually feel awake now.

“That’s a pretty name,” Grayson replies quietly, the smile not leaving his face.

“Thanks,” I say, feeling unusually flattered. It wasn’t just the words he said but the way he said it, so tenderly, like my name was the most beautiful thing that had ever graced his lips. My cheeks are heating up again.

He opens his mouth to reply, but I notice a familiar flash in the corner of my eye. My mind plays a string of colourful words I wouldn’t dare say out loud.

“Oh god,” I groan, “duck.”

“Ducking isn’t going to help, we need to leave,” he says to me, standing up, suddenly alert and ready. He seems a little too prepared for this situation and I’m sceptical. But I don’t have time to be sceptical.

“But you just bought the coffee,” I complain. I feel horrible, he’s just spent good money on that and now I had to leave it.

“Forget about the coffee,” he replies, gesturing for me to stand up.

I get up, “I’ll pay you back as soon as we’re out of here.”

“Come on, there’s a back door we can slip out of,” he explains.

I don’t have time to question how or why he knows that or whether I should follow him. Paparazzi burst through the door, some yelling questions, some taking pictures.

“Oh shit,” I curse, covering my face with my hand, as if it’ll do anything.

“Run?” He suggests to me.

“More like sprint,” I scoff, “I really hope you don’t mind ruining those fancy shoes.”

“Who said I can’t sprint and keep them in perfect condition?” Grayson winks at me.

I roll my eyes, smiling widely, trying to suppress the blush that I can feel rising in my cheeks. He swiftly grabs my hand and pulls me towards the back door. I’m too flustered to even care where I’m going, my cheeks were now positively rosy with colour as I grip his hand. He leads me out and begins to run, not letting go of me, actually he holds on even tighter. Suddenly I feel my legs begin to drag and I realise that I might break an ankle if I carry on in these heels. I tear my hand out of his.

“Keep going!” I yell.

He immediately stops and runs back over to me, “what’s wrong?”

“I can’t keep up with you in these heels,” I heave. Actually I probably couldn’t keep up with him full stop, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

“Take them off,” he tells me.

“What?” I gape.

“Just trust me,” he says.

After a brief second of intense eye contact, I slip off my shoes. Then to my surprise he does the same.

“Put mine on,” he instructs, handing me a pair of clearly very expensive shoes.

“Are you kidding?” I ask.

“Stop with the questions and just wear the shoes, otherwise they’ll catch up to us,” he replies, eyes darting around, scanning for the paparazzi.

I look down at the shoes, which didn’t have a scratch nor crinkle in them. They practically looked fresh out of the box.

“Oh my gosh they’re actually still in perfect condition,” I gape, “how did you even manage that?”

“It’s a talent,” Grayson shrugs.

“Clearly,” I say, “oh god I’m going to end up ruining them.”

He shrugs, “I have too many shoes to count, it doesn’t matter.”

“What about you then, what will you wear?”

“I’m going to wear the heels,” he says, with a straight face, as he picks up my pair of black high heels.

“Really?” I reply, slightly curious on how he was going to a) get them on and b) run in them.

“No, but you should se the look on your face,” he smiles, “I’ll carry them for you.”

I want to slap his arm but I settle for rolling my eyes, I quickly throw his shoes on. They’re one hundred percent going to slip off but I didn’t care by this point, they were more comfortable than my heels.

“Thank you,” I breathe, just as a crowd of voices seemingly get closer.

“Ready to run,” Grayson asks me, extending his hand for me to hold.

“No,” I reply, gripping it tightly.

“Good,” he nods, “let’s go.”

We start to sprint again and quickly fall behind, losing a shoe more than once, praying the paparazzi did not catch that one. Grayson takes my hand back into his and it gives me the energy to move slightly faster.

“My car is this way,” he shouts over his shoulder, dragging my left suddenly.

He stops so abruptly I crash right into his back losing my balance. I can feel myself falling and brace myself for impact as I hit the floor but it never arrives. I open my eyes to find Grayson had caught me. His hands fit perfectly around my waist and held me from my inevitable doom on the pavement. We are frozen for a moment, a beautiful holy moment.

“You okay?” He asks, hurriedly.

His face was so close to mine, his lips look so soft. I can feel his hands on my body and I don’t want him to let go. I want to stay here for all eternity, just so I can feel this good. But I knew it wasn’t possible.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good,” I nod, standing up straight as his hands fall from my waist and I dust myself off.

It was odd how now my waist seemed colder than before, less complete without his strong hands upon it. I shake the notion from my head.

“This is my car,” he points at it, “jump in.”

“I can’t get into a stranger’s car,” I exclaim, folding my arms across my stomach.

“Says the same girl who followed the stranger to his car,” he says, not even bothering to suppress his chuckle, “besides we’re not strangers.”

“Yes we are,” I argue.

“What’s my name?” He asks me with a straight face.

I stare at him, confusion decorating all of my features. He gestures for me to carry on and answer.

“Grayson?” I say hesitantly.

“And you’re Y/N,” he says, “see, not strangers.”

Annoyingly he has a point but I think he can tell I’m not entirely convinced.

“My car has black out windows, they won’t be able to see us,” he tries.

“Or see you murder me,” I mutter.

“I’m not going to murder you!” Grayson exclaims, trying not to laugh.”

“How do I know that?” I ask him.

“Get in the car,” he tells me, rolling his eyes.

“Sounds like something a murderer would say,” I grumble.

He’s about to reply but is cut off.

“THEY’RE OVER HERE!” someone yells.

I weigh up my options, sigh and then get into his car. I didn’t want to run in to the paparazzi and this was my best option right now. I was fairly certain he wouldn’t murder me but it’s better safe than sorry right? Besides it meant I get to spend a little more time with this intriguing soul. We both sit in silence for a few moments before I lean down and take his shoes off of my feet, passing them to him.

“Thanks again,” I beam, “for buying me coffee, lending me your shoes, letting me stay in your car and not murdering me.”

He returns my heels, “no problem. It seems to have been an eventful morning.”

“You can say that again,” I sigh, then look at his shoes, “I don’t think I managed to keep them as unscathed as you did but…” I trail off, not really knowing how to finish my sentence.

I think he senses it as he replies with a simple, “they’re fine.”

We fall into another silence, as we both awkwardly put our shoes on and stare out of the windshield. I don’t think either of know how to rally approach conversation. I sit there and take in the dramatic events of this morning wondering what the day might bring, when I realise I probably owe Grayson an explanation.

I sigh, “look I’m really sorry about that by the way.”

“What? Why are you apologising?” he asks, blinking rapidly.

“For the paparazzi,” I clarify

“Why are you apologising for the paparazzi?” Grayson says, running a hand through his hair.

“Who did you think they were chasing after?” I laugh.

“Me…” he murmurs. My jaw drops, that was not the response I was expecting. He looks too serious to be joking.

“You? You’re famous?”

“I’m Grayson Hawthorne,” he says

My eye widen. How hadn’t I put two and two together? A blonde man, who looked to be about in his twenties, dressed in an expensive suit with gorgeous shoes, with impeccable running speed and the first name of Grayson. All the signs were literally screaming in my face and somehow I’d missed them. It’s as if I walked right past a neon sign, decorated with bold flashing lights.

“I thought they were chasing after me,” I say, leaning back in the seat and gazing out of the window.

“How comes?” Grayson questions.

“I’m a singer,” I shrug, not making eye contact with him.

“You’re joking,” he says.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” I reply flatly, as my eyes finally will themselves to meet his.

“What do you sing?” he asks me, a spark in his eyes. He almost looks excited, for me, for my music.

“Songs,” I laugh cryptically.

He rolls his eyes playfully at me, “What songs?”

I name him a few of my most famous hits that most would’ve heard of. Though my heart was racing in my chest, what if he’s heard my songs and he hates them…

“You’re not Y/N L/N are you?” he asks me, narrowing his eyes.

Damn it.

“The one and only,” I manage to say, a smile plastered on my face, wishing for the ground to swallow my body up whole.

“My brother listens to you all the time, though he’ll never admit it and would kill me for telling you that,” he says, “but I must admit I’ve never listened to you myself.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been more relieved in my life. The breathe out slowly and calm down slightly.

“Let’s keep it that way,” I tell him.

“What if I don’t want to keep it that way?” he replies, mischief underlying his tone.

“You’re going to have to,” I say, making sure I sounded stern enough to warn him to never listen to a song.

“I could just google you,” he points out, taking out his phone. I’ve never wanted to smash anything more violently.

“You could,” I shrug, “but it was make me severely angry.”

“Oh no!” he says sarcastically, a stupid witty grin on his face.

“Hey!” I exclaim, smacking the top of his arm.

I know I’m not really a threat for him at all and when I leave he would most likely google my music and never want to talk to me again. But I convince myself that was okay because if we never see each other after today it wouldn’t matter what he thinks about my music.

“Can you sing for me now then?” Grayson asks, his voice soft and very persuading.

“Absolutely not,” I scoff, folding my arms. His voice was not persuading enough.

“Why?” he replies, almost offended.

“I’m on a vocal rest,” I tell him.

“You’re not doing a very good job, all you’ve done is talk,” he grins, looking to amused at himself for my liking.

“I’m on a vocal rest from just singing,” I lie, “I can still talk.”

“Is that even a thing?” he asks, probably sensing that I’m an awful liar.

“Yes?” I say trying not to sound guilty and failing.

“I think you’re lying,” Grayson replies, a playful look in his eye.

I’m about to answer when my eyes flick over to the dashboard where the time was red on the screen, “Oh my gosh!”

“What?” he asks, alarmed at my sudden burst.

“I’m meant to be at rehearsal in five minutes,” I groan, reaching for the door.

“I’ll drive you,” he says quickly.

“You don’t have to do th-“ I begin.

“Address?” he interrupts me, starting the car up.

“Noble Studios,” I sigh, accepting my fate. He probably wouldn’t take no for an answer.

He nods, “Wait how you on a vocal rest if you’re going to rehearsal?”

“I’m on a vocal rest until I get to rehearsal,” I say, making it up as I go along.

He raises his eyebrows, “Do you ever get any sleep?”

“What?” I ask, confused at the randomness of the question.

“Well you’ve just been in recording studio and now you’d going to rehearsal,” he clarifies, “so do you ever get any sleep?”

“Usually no,” I blow out a breath.

“You should go home and rest,” he tells me.

I blush deeply and replay the words over and over again in my head. The words he said to me. I steal a glance at him for a moment and quickly turn away.

“I will after rehearsal,” I explain, “but I’ve got to make it, I’ve got a concert tomorrow night.”

“Then after this rehearsal you promise me you’ll rest from then until tomorrow night,” Grayson tells me gently.

I nod, too shy to meet his eyes. The silence we fall into is comfortable until I’m brave enough to break it.

“Who do you listen to anyway?”

“What?” he asks quickly.

“What artists?” I wonder aloud, “you said you’d never listened to me, so then who.”

“Frank Sinatra is one of my favourites,” he murmurs, almost with a shyness in his tone.

“Frank Sinatra?” I giggle.

“Are you laughing at my music taste?” he raises his eyebrows.

“No I’m laughing because it’s so on brand for you,” I chuckle.

Of course Grayson Hawthorne liked Frank Sinatra. With his shoes and suit and general demeanours, who else would it be? I could even imagine Grayson singing his songs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

“It’s a compliment, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” I grin playfully.

“Do you even know who Frank Sinatra is?” he says to me, like I’m a complete moron.

“Of course I do, he’s that rapper right?” I tease him.

His head whips towards me faster than the speed on light. He’s staring so intently at me I’m worried we might crash. He death stares me, a mix of offensiveness and utter shock in his expression.

“I’m kidding,” I giggle, “Frank Sinatra was a singer popular in the 40s and 50s, taking on a classical pop style in his music.”

“That wasn’t funny,” he snaps, hands tight around the steering wheel, as he gets his eyes back on the road again.

“I think it was,” I sing song.

“You made me doubt you competence as a person,” he shakes his head.

“Well I’m sure if we ever meet again I’ll probably do something to make you doubt my competence again, count that as the practice round,” I wink as he pulls up outside the studio, stopping the car parallel to the entrance staircase.

“I hope we do meet again,” he says quietly.

“Me too,” I murmur.

We both look up at the same time, our eyes meeting. Both unable to look away. My heart hammers in my chest and my leg bounces up and down. I’m so addicted to the sight of him that I contemplate skipping rehearsals.

“Thank you,” I whisper, tearing my gaze away. Why did I have to be responsible?

“You better keep that promise,” he tells me.

“I will, don’t worry,” I smile, “thank you so much again, you’ve been a life saver.”

“I think we sort of saved each other,” he replies, it was a little cheesy but makes me smile widely nevertheless.

I sigh, a lean back, “We’re going to be all over the newspapers tomorrow.”

I didn’t know why I was still talking but my mouth always seems to struggle when it’s time to stop moving and so something productive. Or maybe… maybe it was because I wanted more time with him.

“All press is good press,” he shrugs nonchalantly. He knows what it’s like to deal with this crazy lifestyle, he gets it. I didn’t think I’d really ever get to know anyone who would understand how I feel.

“They’re going to speculate we’re dating,” I warn him.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Grayson asks me, quirking a brow upwards and tipping his head to the side.

“Are you flirting with me?” I blurt out before my brain can filter my words.

“If I was would you want me to stop?” he questions.

“No,” I murmur, without a second a hesitation.

“Can I have your number?” Grayson asks.

“What?” I reply, slightly in shock whilst still trying to process the information.

“Incase you ever need me to drive you away from paparazzi again, of course,” he says, biting his bottom lip ever so slightly.

I smile tickles my lips, “of course…”

I quickly fumble around for the pen at the bottom of my bag and look for some paper.

“Just write it here,” he says, running a finger across his hand.

“Are you sure? What if you get ink poisoning?” I ask.

“I’ll have your number so it would’ve been worth it,” he smiles, smoothly.

A chill runs down my spine and I feel all warm and fuzzy.

“You know you’re really good at this whole flirting thing,” I tell him, smiling like an idiot on drugs.

“I’m glad you think so,” he replies. Why did his voice have to be so addictive? It isn’t fair!

I slowly lean down and write the numbers etched into my brain onto his hand. I concentrate hard to make the numbers look neat and tidy, incase a girl with messy handwriting was a red flag for him. I take a minute to analyse his hands, they were strong, slightly tanned but looked so soft. I remember back to when my hand was in his when we were running and how perfectly mine fit into his. Maybe one day we’d hold hands just for the feelings between us and not in a freezer attempt to escape flashing cameras and annoying people. I bring my head back up and stare at the number, thinking how awful my handwriting looks. I tip my head up further and my eyes meet Grayson’s. He wasn’t looking at the number on his hand, he was looking at me.

Now our faces are inches from one another’s but I’m selfish enough to want them to be closer. After a few moments of our eyes being cemented in place, analysing each feature of one another’s faces, I slowly realise that I need to leave. My rational senses pull together and I step out of the car to begin to make my way towards the rehearsal centre. I can hear the car hasn’t yet left. He’s waiting, I can feel him watching, he’s making sure I’m safe. It makes me beam even wider.

“And hey,” I say, turning around, “you ever want a free concert ticket, it’s yours.”

“I might have to take you up on that,” Grayson smiles, causing a warmth to blossom in my heart.

I had a feeling this wasn’t the last time we were going to meet…

a/n: sorry this took me so long!! I got wayyy to carried away whilst writing this… originally it wasn’t going to be this long but here we are. anon, whoever you are, I hope you enjoyed this and if not I can try again!! you were my first request ever and that means a lots, so thank you!!

also I feel like I wrote Grayson really out of character but the reasoning behind that was in my mind I thought in public settings or around his family he has to be the serious one always on task etcetera but when he meets someone who doesn’t know he’s Grayson Hawthorne, he allows himself to be someone more open… IDKKKK but thanks for reading anyways 🤍🤍

TIG masterlist

[shadowsndaisies]

the hard deck: slow ride (pt 2)

wc: ~1k

synopsis: a glimpse through Jake's eyes

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: here is part 2!

Look, Jake knew he was a great pilot. He knew it before he got sent to Top Gun; he knew it after. And he knew it before he got invited to this special detachment. In order to be a great pilot, there is a certain level of intelligence involved, so yes, Jake would say he's a smart guy. Which is why he feels confident in saying something has happened between you and Bradley.

You were by far the best person Jake had ever met. Pilot or not, hands-down, you were the best. There was something about you. That was just so innately trustworthy. Something bold and clever. He could put his life in your hands and wouldn't doubt them for a second. It'll be a cold day in hell before he admits it out loud, but Natasha Trace was a close second; it's the only reason he didn't go completely territorial over your friendship, that, and the fact that Phoenix probably would've thrown him overboard if he had even tried.

Since your assignment to the Tophatters, Jake has found himself with plenty of time to get to know you. And while you mentioned some of the people you attended Top Gun with, usually Harvard and Yale, you never once mentioned Rooster. Yet, there was something about the way you were staring at him, the way you watched how he and Natasha interacted; it set off all kinds of alarms in his head. He made a joke with the kiss and tell, and while you denied it, he knew there was something you weren't saying.

He's starting toward the pool table but pauses; whatever the truth was, whatever was going on, Bradley Bradshaw did something that hurt you, that much was clear, and well, if there was one thing Jake excelled at, more than flying, it was pushing all the wrong buttons. He looks back at you, gripping the G&T he'd gotten you, knowing you'd drink a beer but never enjoy it. You're playing with the condensation; he can see how your chest moves with deep breaths. And he decides there's no reason to build a bridge that was on fire from the start.

He turns and walks up to the Juke, scanning the listing and then smirking when he finds what he wants, putting in a quarter and clicking the numbers. Then he turns back to the pool table, "Bradshaw!" he calls, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees you turn. Jake hands the beers off, one to Nat and the other three to Javi for the moment being. "As I live and breathe," he smirks, stealing the pool cue out of Bob's hands.

It's a dick move, he knows, but well, right now, that's who he needed to be.

"Hangman," Rooster greets, a slight head tilt, and his lip quirks. "You look… good," he concedes, and Jake smirks.

"Well, I am good, Rooster," Jake starts, lining up his shot, and like he'd done to you earlier, he makes eye contact with Rooster as he hits the ball. However, there is a distinct rise in testosterone; unfortunately, Rooster is not nearly as fun to flirt with as you are. "I'm very good. In fact, I am too good to be true," Jake smirks again.

"So," Payback calls, and Jake notices how you've begun to inch forward. "Anybody know what this special detachment is all about?"

"No, mission's a mission. They don't confront me," Jake is the first to answer as he lines up his next shot, splitting his vision between the pool table and you. You're still far enough to keep everyone from seeing you but close enough to likely hear what's being said, even over the sounds of the bar. "What I want to know," he continues, "is who's gonna be team leader?" he emphasizes the question while landing another ball in a pocket before standing and looking around the table. "And who's has what it takes to follow me?" Jake doesn't mean to linger on you, but it seems to have an okay reaction because you quirk a smile in challenge, as if asking what makes you think you won't be following me? And honestly, he probably would. He'd follow you anywhere if you asked him to.

"Hangman, the only place you'll lead anyone is an early grave," Rooster says lowly, and every Aviator around the table freezes.

Fanboy lets out a nervous laugh that Jake sure earns him a few glares, but his gaze doesn't move off of you; instead, he watches your shoulders tense, you bite your lip, and then he sees as you uncomfortably force yourself forward. He was a dick, he knew that, but he wasn't about to let you force yourself into this conversation when your feet weren't firmly on the ground.

Jake keeps the cocky smirk on his face and stands up straight before walking over to Rooster, "Well," he begins, looking Rooster up and down. "Anyone who follows you is just going to run out of fuel. But that's just you, ain't it, Rooster?" Jake quips. "You're snug on that perch, waiting for just the right moment… that never comes," Jake takes slow steps, getting in Rooster's face.

The chorus of the song Jake had typed in came on at the perfect time.

Slow ride… take it easy…

Jake smirks, "I love this song!"

Jake had moved to go back to the game. Still, vaguely, he's aware that you're now speaking to another aviator and that Phoenix and Rooster are talking about him.

"Well, he hasn't changed," Phoenix notes, and though she's being quieter, it's not quiet enough.

"Nope, sure hasn't," Rooster affirms.

"Check it out," Fanboy calls, nodding past the table, and everybody's attention shifts, "more patches."

"That's Omaha, Halo, Fritz, and shit, is that Harvard and Yale talking to Athena," Payback notes.

Rooster pauses, "Wait, Athena's here?"

...

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