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petew21-blog · 2 days ago

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Homophobic gym teacher

I hate PE. I hate it so freaking much that I’d rather have history with Mr. Douglas every day than to run in front of Mr. Mills every day. He hates me, ever since I came out as gay at school I received mostly good feedback from others. Even my bullies were kinda nice about it. Thank God I live in the twenty first century. But one person didn’t really take It well.

I browsed through his instagram a few times. And while I looked for the perfect photo of him flexing his biceps, showing his abs or anything that would help me for my jerk off session, I found out that he was quite hardcore republican. How a person like this could get into education is beyond me.

As always I finished jerking off while looking at his regular bathroom gym photo. Man, what I would give to fuck him. Why do jerks always have the perfect body?

My phone buzzed. I snapped back into reality. Jack, my friend who is also gay, but not out yet, texted me.

“Hey, are we gonna ditch school tomorrow? I can’t hear any more of that Mills bullshit while we climb the rope”

“We’re gonna be rope climbing? Ah fuck me. He’s gonna be insufferable.”

“My thoughts exactly. So? Are we skipping school?”

“I can’t man. I gotta keep up my attendance after missing so many days thanks to Mr. Mills”

Next day, 2:29 PM

I stood next to the rope, waiting for Jake to finish his turn. Mr. Mills stood below him, screaming. Jake couldn’t get to the top. Mr. Mills told him to get down and screamed at him some more. What an asshole. It was my turn. The bell rang. “Fuck yeah. No more rope climbing for me.” My classmates, me included, turned to head to the lockers.

Mr. Mills: ”González? Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

Me: ”Sir, the class is over and it’s Friday.”

Mr. Mills: ”The class is over when I say it is over. Get on the fucking rope and stop talking back at me. The rest of you can leave.”

I got close to the rope. I grabbed it and squeezed the rope between my feet. I started pulling myself up and immediately felt the pain of lifting myself. I knew I was weak, I didn’t really need some wannabe teacher slash gym freak to remind me and scream at me what a lazy piece of shit I am. I tried to ignore him. I gave myself a goal to just finish it and leave, but Mr. Mills stood directly below me to comment on my fat ass slowing me down.

I was almost at the top, a wave of happiness swept over me. “Shit, I’m gonna make it!”

And right then I slipped. And instead of locking my feet, I just let go off the rope.

THUD

“I survived. Fuck. I fell from the freaking rope. My head was hurting so hard. My head? But I thought that I fell on my back? Ahhh the pain.”

I opened my eyes. My vision was blurry from the fall. I tried blinking several times and my vision was slowly getting better. I lifted my arm to grab on my head, but as I did it didn’t feel right. I looked at my arm. It was bigger. As in full of muscles.

“What the hell?” I said out loud, but instead of my young squeaky almost too feminine voice a low baritone came out of my throat.

“How the fuck…?!” I looked to my left. There was my body getting up from the ground

Me: ”Mr. Mills?”

Mr. Mills: ”Ah you gotta be fucking kidding me?! Is that you González?”

Me: ”I… Yes. How… How did this happen?” Mr. Mills: ”Does it look like this happens to me a lot?”

Me: ”But… it’s scientifically impossible”

Mr. Mills: ”I bet this was caused by those covid vaccines to make you immigrant fags take over our lives.”

Me: ”Yeah… right. Cause everyone wants to be a stupid republican”

Mr. Mills: ”Shut your mouth or…” he was interrupted by the janitor telling us to leave so he can lock the school. Mr. Mills gave me his car keys and I gave him instructions how to find my locker. We decided to meet each other in his car and to figure out what to do after that.”

After many unsuccessful attempts I found his Chevrolet and entered the passenger’s seat. Few moments later, I realized that I’m gonna be the one driving so I switched seats and got behind the wheel for the first time in my life. His car was amazing, it smelt great and was clean. How should I even drive this thing? I don’t drive a car. I’ll get us into trouble.

I stopped overthinking about the car. “I am in my teachers body. The one who bullied me almost every day. I am an adult male.” I looked into the rearview mirror. “Fuck, I am in one of the hottest man’s body around. And I am wasting it just worrying here. I flexed and squeezed my new biceps. Fuuuck. It’s so huge. I checked if no one else was around and lifted up my shirt.

“Oh my gooood” I slammed my head into the seat. “This is so hot!”

My new abs and pecs now uncovered were the most perfect ones I have ever seen. The ones I jerk off to every night before sleep. And now it’s here. All for me.

I opened my eyes and saw Mr. Mills in my body approaching the car. And behind him ran Jake. They entered the car.

I tried to improvise: „Why is your friend here?”

Jake: „Holy shit. So it is true. Mr. Mills would never react so calm. Is that really you in there, Daniel?”

I turned at Mr. Mills who now had a very irritated face. “I didn’t say anything, he figured it out.”

Jake: „I didn’t believe it at first, but Daniel never swears like this. And your vocabulary isn’t exactly rich so I knew really quickly where I heard the phrases before. Damn, I’m good. So? What are we gonna do? We should test it out somehow. Shit, Daniel you should get drunk tonight!”

Mr. Mills: „No! There won’t be no drinking, touching or anything with my body. This is definitely temporary and we will be back by tomorrow morning.”

Me: „If you think so…”

I drove Jake and my body home. Mr. Mills had to give me a speed course of driving, but his muscle memory helped me out way more than I thought. We set up some ground rules. No drinking, no drugs, no permanent changes to our bodies, no photos and no sex. He left the car while saying something about a fag in his body, but I couldn’t care less anymore. I speeded to get to his house asap.

I didn’t really explore the house as much when I arrived. I went straight to where I thought was the bedroom and immediately started taking off my clothes. His black speedo was PACKING and getting tighter every minute, but I really wanted to make this first exploration as perfect as possible. I lifted up the shirt, touching my new hairless and fatless stomach. I flexed and sets of abs appeared. I touched every last one of them. My hand continued up to my new large pecs.

“God damn, Mr. Mills. These are some perfect man titties.” I squeezed them. They looked so tight in all the photos, but when I wasn’t flexing them, they were quite soft. Must be amazing to lay on these. I played with them some more before taking off my shirt and releasing my new hairy pits. I took a long whiff off them. “I smell like a proper MAN now!” I licked it as well, enjoying the salty taste of Mr. Mills’s pits. I looked at myself in the mirror. My new dick was hard as a rock and waited for me to take care of it.

I headed to the shower and turned on a hot water. “Your body is probably not used to a hot water, am I right, Mr. Mills? I bet you are one of those cold water freaks who bathe in the icy waters.” I hated his voice before, but right now as I was controlling it, I began to like it so much.

The water poured all over my large body, from the perfect face, over my massive pecs, hairless abs and right to my beautiful dick. “Nice dick, Mr. Mills!” I said and chuckled over the fact that I just said that.

I suddenly got a mischievous idea. I came out of the shower and texted Jake.

Jake: „I can’t believe I’m doing this. I am just squeezing Mr. Mills’s pecs and touching his abs. Can you believe it, Daniel?”

Me: „It’s wild, right? But I got an idea. Wanna make it more interesting?”

Jake: „Interesting how?”

Me: „Stop touching me you lazy fag” I said in an authoritative voice and Jake moved his hands away from me quickly.

Jake: „Why did you do that? I got scared.”

Me: „I bet you are scared, you little fag. I know you just came over so that you could jerk off you little dick and watch me enjoy myself.”

Jake: „Daniel?”

Me: „Daniel won’t save you right now. You will do as I say. Ok?”

Jake finally caught up to my roleplay scenario and started acting as well. And by the look of his face I knew that he was really into it.

Jake: „Yes, Mr. Mills. I will do whatever you say.”

I sat down on the couch watching. “I want you to admire my body and say how hot I am and how horny it makes you.”

Jake got his hands on MY body and got a bit nervous: „You have sexy abs, Mr. Mills.”

Me: „You think that’s enough? That they are just sexy?”

Jake: „I think they’re the hottest abs I have ever seen”

Me: „How about my biceps. You like them?”

Jake: „They are SO big. I want you to squeeze my head in them. I want to lick your armpit hair. I want to kiss you.”

Me: „That’s a good boy. How about you show me how good you are, you fag?”

I moved his hands over to my new hard crotch.

Jake smiled and licked his lips

I fucking love being in this body.

And I bet Jake’s ass is gonna love this body even more.

#body swap #body switch #body switching #body swapping #male body swap #gay to straight #straight body swap #striaght to gay #teacher x student #teacher body swap #student body swap #gym body swap #pecs

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eupheme · 2 days ago

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— you’re the one that I want

worst!wolverine/logan howlett x f!reader

tags: soulmate au, roommate!wade & neighbor!f!reader, valentine’s day fic, blind dates, use of alcohol, flirting, light misunderstanding, semi-public makeout

rated m - 2.6k

a/n: my submission for the loveuary challenge hosted by the wonderful @lubdubology and @yxtkiwiyxt! thank you so much, this was so fun 💘

“You really think there’s anyone worth my time at that shithole?”

Wade gasps in offense.

“Sister Margaret's is a New York institution. If America’s Sweetheart was a bar, she’d be it.” His eyes narrow, voice lilting as he adds, “Besides, you really want to miss out on the chance to meet your soulmate?”

“No fucking way.”

Wade’s groan stretches long, as his head lolls against the back of the sofa.

“Logan. Peanut. My sweet cheese, my good-time boyeh, please-” His voice strings out the syllables, “I need you to do this for me. I already set it all up, all you gotta to do is go.”

Logan’s scowl deepens, with a sharp jerk of his chin, “I’m not fucking going.”

A sigh then - Wade’s legs stretching wide, as he springs to his feet. Circling around to where Logan leans against the counter, looking every bit rooted to the apartment as the thing growing in the corner of their shared shower.

“I need this. I am finally back on track with Vanessa, and this is a real chance for me to knock it out of the park.” A finger raises, before poking him in the chest, “But I can’t have Mr. Grumpy Gus cramping our style. You feel me?”

An eyebrow arches up, but Wade barely pauses for a breath, “Besides, would you really stand a girl up on Valentine’s Day? Don’t you know what that could do to her psyche? What if that was her thirteenth reason? You really need that on your conscious?”

The filthy scowl Logan shoots him is like a three claw punch to the gut. Wade at least has the decency to look ashamed - fingers splaying wide in placation.

“Just give it a shot. If it all goes south you can just come right home. I won’t even be mad, even if it’s mid-coitus. Pinkie swear.”

The visual makes Logan’s lip curl. Arms crossing over his chest, as his head tilts, “You really think there’s anyone worth my time at that shithole?”

Wade gasps in offense.

Wade misses the sharp look Logan shoots his way. His tone still teasing, missing just how deep his comment thrums through him.

How it meant something different in his world, rather than the shallow note of connection it seemed to mean here.

It didn’t matter, anyways. There’s only one person in the city he might not mind seeing, and surely you would have other plans.

Logan’s seen your recent date, stopping by the door down the hall in the evenings. Doesn’t much care for his goody-two-shoes vibe, the State University tone.

The memory sends his skin itching. An urge to move - and it’s enough that his arms are loosening.

Deep down, he really doesn’t want to stick around. Had been planning on hitting up a bar, anyways.

Can’t take much of this lovey-dovey shit, never been one of his favorite holidays.

And if his drinks are on Wade’s tab, then…

He’s sure he can let whoever the poor girl is down quick.

“Yes. Yes! Thank you, bestie.” The resignation must flick across his face, because Wade’s fist pumps with triumph, “This is gonna be great, I promise. Even better than the Tony Awards.”

Logan ignores another asinine reference - a final warning leveled his roommate’s way, as his hand curls around the doorframe.

“You got thirty minutes.”

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Wade grins.

“That’s twenty-nine too many.”

The heel of your boot bounces underneath the booth. Fingernails drumming on the surface of the sticky table, trying to keep your eyes from flicking to the door each and every time it opens.

This was stupid.

You don’t know how you let Wade talk you into this.

Sister Margaret’s was not your idea of a place to meet someone - romantically, at least. And therefore, the chances of this evening going well were historically low.

But it’d beat your second year of ordering in - the prices hiked up with the holiday. Of another movie marathon alone, picking apart the sordid end of your last relationship.

Anything was better than that, surely.

You’re double-checking your phone for the third time, confirming the text noting which booth to be in - the back left corner one next to the totally-not-a-bloodstain on the floor - when a shadow passes over the edge of your table.

Eyes catching on the flannel that creeps into your vision. Worn, in shades of brown and muted red - a slow drag upward across a broad chest, then higher. Your breath catching, as your mind whirrs - racing catching up.

You should tell your upstairs neighbor “hi”.

Something that resembles polite, normal conversation.

But you can’t seem to find the words.

Because as he slips into the booth, you’re quickly realizing he might just be here for you.

What you do find is -

“Is this a joke?”

Logan’s frown deepens.

A snarled out “what?” that sends a jolt though you, but you’re too confused to examine it. Left babbling, trying to make sense of this.

“Is this because I told Wade he’s a winter?” Your voice pitches higher, “Because his photo was really blurry, and I don’t even do that kind of color analysis-”

Logan scoffs, a hand braced on the table as if to push himself up. Hesitating for the briefest of moments, before he’s asking, “Why would this be a joke?”

Your lips part.

“Because-”

Because you’re here in the hopes of finding someone else. A distraction.

Unsure what to make of this magnetic feeling deep inside your chest when you see him. Having to hold yourself back from taking one step, and then another, when he lingers near the mail room.

You had hoped tonight would help you erase the man that surely does not even know you exist.

“…because I’m sure you have better things to do then uh, do this.”

“This?” He hedges, a brow arching.

“A blind date.”

Something in his eyes flicker, when you finally meet them. The little mark between his brows deepening with the rough rasp of his voice. ”You really didn’t know who you were meeting?”

“No,” Your head shakes, “No. Did you?”

His eyes drop for a beat, before they flick back up.

“No.”

Your tongue dips out to dampen your lip, and you miss the way his eyes track the movement. The question slipping from you without thought.

“Would you have come, if you did?”

The silence stretches out, tipping towards uncomfortable.

And yet, he does not leave. A leather jacket still slung across the back of the booth, as his fingers tap the table.

“I’m gonna grab a beer,” He deflects. “You want another?”

Logan’s head dips towards your drink, only the glittery dregs of red remaining, a cherry nestled against the ice.

Your shoulder lifts, about to answer that you probably shouldn’t. That you’ve already made enough of a fool of yourself.

His lips curl at the edges, before you can voice your answer. ”Wade’s buying. Thought we could make a dent in his wallet.”

“Oh.” The word draws out, as your smile stretches.

So, not a rejection.

It might just be an invitation, actually.

“Definitely.”

It’s not how he thought his night would go.

Should have peeled himself away twenty minutes ago, somewhere between your second and third drink and the wind of conversation.

Slunk back home, or to another bar.

Had thought about it, in that moment when you confessed that you hadn’t known he was meeting you.

The thought of it being a disappointment turning his stomach, until you had voiced your question. The hope that wound its way between your words.

Unable to answer, even if he knows what it would have been.

The alcohol flickers inside him, a brief respite to the burn of sore muscles and a bone-deep ache that he’s carried since his world.

Should stop drinking this shit, but he’s been taking it a day at a time. Swapping rubbing alcohol for anything with a kick. That for vodka. Vodka for beer.

It’s not progress, but it’s something.

The feeling never sticks around, but something about you almost mirrors it. A wash of calm as his chin cups in his palm. Senses narrowing down, blocking out all the noise around him.

Eyes snagged on the curl of your lips around the white straw, the pink tinge of gloss left behind.

Helpless, to the tug at his arm as you loosened. The point of your finger to the empty dart board, how he had followed two steps behind.

You’ve missed a handful of your throws. Two darts stuck between the numbers running around the rim. His lips twitching at the frown that pulls down the corner of your lips, the hand that braces at your hip.

“So, did Wade guilt you into coming?”

Your fingers brush his, as you hand over the darts.

“You could say that.” He grunts, eyes slipping towards the board. Still catching the scrunch of your nose, as he amends, “But, like I said. Didn’t know.”

It’s not an answer to your question before, but it’s something that tip-toes close to one. It’s enough that your expression softens - an excited touch against his shoulder when his throw flies true.

“Same.” Your fingers curl against his shirt, transfixed. Hazy - those walls around you from before unstacking one brick at a time, “Almost didn’t go. But you know Wade, and his puppy-dog eyes.”

Logan didn’t.

“-and I uh, thought it would be nice. To not be alone, this year.”

He missed his next throw. A side-eye shot your way.

“Alone?” The word comes out close to a scoff.

Can’t pretend it hasn’t been eating at him. Wondering what the hell Wade had been playing at, inviting you.

“Figured you’d be out with your boyfriend.”

The last dart sinks into the green rim around the red center.

“Very funny.” You hum, stepping up to take his place. A glance over your shoulder, to find him still watching you.

That frown back, as your head tilts.

“I really don’t know who you’re talking about.”

He wished he hadn’t asked. Should have just stayed silent, taken this night for what it was.

“Thought I’ve seen a guy around the last couple weeks.“ Logan hands shove into his back pockets, “Just figured…”

Your expression persists. His fingers tap his temple, “Grey streaks, suit.”

As if he doesn’t have some of his own.

“Oh!” Recognition flickers, as you spin back, “Definitely not boyfriend. He’s like, super married.”

Your shot flies wide, bouncing off the wooden walls behind the board - a little huff as you turn back, “They’re due to have their first in a couple months. Been helping them pick things out for the nursery.”

A finger pointed back towards yourself, in explanation, “Figured I could help. Interior designer, and all.”

Something like relief flickers in his chest. Another feeling - deeper, hungrier - almost drowns it out.

The words smooth, as they slip from his lips.

“No guy, then?”

The shake of your head is slow, and that sweet smell that clings to you curls around his senses. Thickens, even - betraying you.

It gives him the confidence to step into your space. Emboldened by the look you give him from beneath the thick fan of your lashes. Hope, burning once again in blown-dark pupils.

“Here.”

A hand touches at your hip, as he eases closer. Plucking the dart from limp fingers.

“You’re holding it too far back. Lemme show you.”

He never gave a damn about this game, but he’ll take any excuse to get closer. To feel the way you stiffen beneath his fingertips, the hitch of your breath.

The shot is lined up.

His wrist extends as he aims, chest brushing against your back, and suddenly - your palm curls around his forearm. Fingers splaying wide as a jolt arcs through his nervous system, shooting from his hand to his core.

Your words muted - it’s only his enhanced senses that have him catching the tail end.

“-like me.”

He makes a rough sound, and again you turn to face him. The prick of goosebumps as your finger trace the dots at his wrist.

“I said you have freckles like me.”

The knitted cuff of your sweater tugged back to show him how yours mirrors his, down to the very last mark.

Time stands still.

Logan’s dreamt about this moment for decades.

Using that little crisscross of dots like a compass.

Guiding him through life - thinking there had to be something about the mansion, its symbol, that tied it to him. Taking on the mantle that mirrored the shape, ink-like against his skin.

Thinking it would lead him somewhere.

Even if he’d been certain he had missed it, somewhere in those two-hundred years. Ships passing in the night, across a lifespan that has stretched far too long.

Always trying to push away those “what ifs”. Had stopped looking a long time ago. Never once, since he’d crossed over. Told himself he was luckier not to have a match.

Not to know love like that - because one day he’d have become acquainted with the loss of it, as well.

He’s had enough of that, in his lifetime.

And this - it’s not what he ever expected.

Finding you in a world that’s not his own. His match with a girl, living on the floor just below his.

It leaves him mute, as your eyes linger.

Not sure what to make of him, he’s certain. Of the part of his lips, his own heart hammering beneath his ribs.

Unsteady, for the first time in decades.

His name pulls him out of his thoughts. Cherry-sweet on your tongue, lilting into a question.

The dart is thrown by muscle memory.

Your fingers still pressed against his mark, as it hits dead center.

He takes his prize, back in the shadowed corner of the booth.

Your eyes already slipping shut, when his fingers tuck under your chin. Lips parting, and he finds himself grateful again for those animal-senses.

Permission in the galloping of your pulse beneath your skin. The held breath as you wait, balanced on the knife’s edge of anticipation.

The soft inhale of breath, when his mouth slants against yours. Fingers curling in his shirt once more, as you part for him.

Swallowing your moan, with the sweep of his tongue. Sweet - grenadine syrup blending with you, and it’s like he cannot get enough. The kiss drawing out, insistent and hungry - a shuddering breath when it finally breaks, as if you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

Pliable, in the way he tugs your thigh over his, seating you in his lap. How you follow, so easily.

Fitting against him as if you were meant to.

And maybe you were - the thought sending his fingers tightening, where they grip at your hips.

As if he won’t let you go, now that he’s found you.

You’re right there with him. Just as affected - your palms smoothing over his chest. Tracing the chain biting into his neck, sinking into his hair when they loop around his shoulders.

Letting your hips rock - a tentative movements, paired with the softest sighs.

Growing bolder when you feel him beneath you - how he encourages it, with the press of his palms. The tips of his fingers slipping under the hem of your sweater, a pulse of pleasure at the way you shiver with his touch.

The second gift of his name, and it’s the one he’ll remember most. Drawn-out. Needy, and it only makes him want to hear it more.

Another breath huffed out, a heady throb against the too-tight confines of his jeans.

There’s the crack of a pool cue, a cheer rising at the table across the room.

The bubble bursts.

Bringing him back - even in this dim corner, it’s still far too public for everything he needs to do to you tonight.

A shared thought, your lips kiss-swollen as they press against his neck.

“Can we go home?” You husk, into the shell of his ear.

Something deep inside him purrs at the word. Possessive, wrenching a growl from deep in his chest as he carefully eases you off him.

Pushing himself up from the booth - a hand coming to wrap around your wrist.

Thumb pressed against your pulse, feeling it thrum beneath your skin once more.

Right against your mark.

He’ll tell you tomorrow.

He’ll have time - he’s always had that.

Never been grateful for it.

Not until now.

thank you again, lub and kiwi! I am so excited to check out the fics for your event, and happy I was able to contribute one! I’ve wanted to write a soulmate fic for some time, this has me 👀💖 about writing more!

#happy (early) Valentine’s Day friends 💖#logan howlett x reader #logan howlet fan fic #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x f!reader #wolverine x reader #worst wolverine x reader #klloveuary2025

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hipstersfoundmyrobot · 2 days ago

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I was asked to do this, and I am sorry because the idea I just got is so fucked up.

"Now, in other news, a representative of a specialized government branch is about to showcase their latest findings in an effort to secure more funding. To Jamie Pine, live on the scene."

"Thank you. Many business men and members of Congress are present today. Everything has been kept very secretive and no one truly knows what is to be unveiled today. Some think it might be a new energy source, others are talking about weaponry.

"Representative Agent W. has stepped on stage, let us listen to her speech." The camera zooms in on a woman in a white suit, standing on stage. Behind her, a curtain is drawn.

"I would like to say how grateful the GIW is that so many have shown up today." Another camera pans across the public, people in cocktail dresses and suits. Lex Luthor and the Wayne family are the most notable.

"Over the years, humanity and America have had to learn that there was much we didn't know. From aliens to other dimensions, there is much to be studied still, and much more that we must learn to protect ourselves against.

"Our organization's aim is to study and protect ourselves against entities that have proven, time and again, that they are hostile to our people. Despite their best efforts to evade capture and impede our progress, we have managed to capture the strongest of these beings."

Applause rings through the room, the woman lifts an arm and the curtain is pulled. The crowd falls silent. There are gasps and murmurs around the room.

The camera zooms on a figure in a green tube. A humanoid figure, one could say a young man, stripped and restrained. The man is scarred all over and his white hair is floating around him. Green eyes open, filled with fear and tears, gaze into the camera and the news feed goes dark.

The Bats, as the Waynes, exchange looks of varying horror and determination as the curtain drops. With a nod, they split up, unable to let this charade go on any longer.

Tim walks to a corner and takes out his tablet. In a few minutes, he has blocked any information from leaving the room and he can already see the reporters panicking.

Dick slips unnoticed into a service hallway and pulls the fire alarm. When he exits, he is in his Nightwing suit and helping Signal usher people out the doors of the conference hall.

Bruce makes a call to the Justice League and disappears with the crowd to don the Batman mask.

Jason hasn't moved. He can't help but stare at too familiar scars. It's not the obviously fresh wounds that attract his attention, though. It's the scar above his right temple, the one under his chin and, he lifts a hand to his own chest, the Y-shaped incision.

The fire alarm shakes him out of his stupor and he runs off, he comes back with a helmet on, barely noting that he hasn't changed his clothes. He jumps on stage, making his way through white blurs. They might be trying to stop him but he won't let them.

As he stops in front of the tube, too green eyes seem to stare into his soul, and he knows his eyes are the same shade behind the helmet. With a hit from the butt of his gun, the glass shatters and he collects the man into his arms.

He doesn't look away, just bundles him up in his jacket and carries him out of the room. He doesn't know where he's going but lets familiar hands guide him somewhere.

Jason finally regains his senses. He is sitting, Bruce is kneeling in front of him, a hand on his cheek. He looks up, the Watchtower medical room, a black-haired man, asleep on the cot, scar near the temple and on his chin. He takes a deep grounding breath.

His voice is softer than he's ever heard and he wonders how long he's been out of it. "B, what's going on ?"

Jason and Danny look nothing alike, well besides the hair and eyes. They have different facial features, body types, and vocal inflections... But their scars are exactly the same.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dp x dc #bones prompts #DEATH SCARS DEATH SCARS DEATH SCARS #possibly soulmate au? Death Scar au? funky magic bullshit?

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tarotbyjam24 · 6 hours ago

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What do they find sexy about you ? 18+ mdni

Pick a piles \masterlist

Likes , reblogs and feedbacks are very much appreciated 💗

Disclaimer: this is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so 🕊️

Thankyou for stopping by let's dive in ☄️ Choose the pile you feel most drawn to 🧸

If you like my work you can now tip me on kofi too ,leave 🖤 emoji while tipping me because @winisayswhat and I both share same accounts and it'll help us distinguish our tips ♡ 🧚🏻‍♀️

This reading is a collab between @tarotbyjam24 and @winisayswhat don't forget to check her account

Pile 1

read by @winisayswhat 🫶🏻

Dayum gworl , you're so self aware lmaaooooo, it's giving IAM SEXY AND I KNOW IT SONG VIBE , This is the pile that host a private victorias secret ramp walk for themselves every night loll! You might wear some really sexy lingerie , decked uo with greatttt hair ! I see lots of libido from both the sides , you like being worshipped damn , you might wear some really good perfume . Your future spouse just wants to merge his body with yours cause you look so damn alluring , you are giving 'Queen of heaven " vibes , the might go gaga over your melons and cherries , they will suck them like a ripe fruit , it'll be like a baby sucking desperately in their mums buds ! You are the prize gosh you're SO SEXY ! Some bondage or blindfold might be involved , you guyssss loveeeeeee foreplay ! Your spouse will never get enough of you, you somehow always manage to make their buddy erect , also omg your man will grunt and moan alot as you do the deed , they'll grip your dips tightly while leaving love bites and marks all over you, you'll whimper under their touch ! I see you having many orgasms , and the look you have while having orgasms turns on your man for a second round ! Your man will know how to do foreplay and turn you on, the type of man who'll worship the ground you walk on ! There might also be oral sex involved , your man might also be mighty bulky with beard , and you're a damsel in distress with a small frame compared to them ! Some kind of kink there ahhahaah!

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Pile 2

read by @winisayswhat 🫶🏻

I'm seeing a DEEP attraction between you and your future spouse. They're like sooo drawn to your SPONTANEOUS nature, your ability to light up the room with your presence and aura. Your warmth and energy are like a MAGNET, pulling them in and making them feel alive.You might be a virgin or atleats less experienced than them ! It's giving *i am gonna be your first and last one *They loveeee your personality, they look at you like a baby with sparkly personality that's got them hooked. They're als attracted to your INTELLIGENCE, your creativity, and your passions. They admire your strength, your resilience, and your leadership qualities. You're a TRUE BOSS, and they can't get enough of that.And let's talk about the chemistry between you two. It's like the universe itself is conspiring to bring you together. They feel a deep sense of trululu lmao and destiny when they're with you, like they've finally found their missing piece.Theyre gonna to be the one to initiate the deed , the type of guy who might like the thrill of teasing a girl who isn't often teased , you might get shy or freeze when they initiate proximity, they might like the view from behind 😉, when you bend or are doing house chores . If you're a working woman, you being focused and ignorant will piss them off! They'll do anything and everything to gain your attention. You might have a greatttttttt cleavage and lips, your eyes maybe very doe types , like an invitation for your spouse to *ahem ahem *. They love it when you're unaware about how hot you look ! It's like you're not being braggy about it . They'll like to hold and grab your waist time to time , in bed they live when you ride them, they're gonna be so intense ,gosh don't get me started , you get them possessed during the deed , your body and eyes make them go gaga , they love it when they make you loose control . The way your lips part , the shivers during orgasm , your eyebrows cocked, eyes half closed rolling back wanting to stop yet asking for more ! Gosh it's like badboy x innocent girl trope !

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Pile 3

Pile 3 : they find your silhouette sexy . They like your named body specially in the night light or like fairy lights . They find it sexy when you do some chores or work in body hugging tight dresses or suits . They may also find your love handles sexy like their hands will perfectly fit on your love handles. They find your open hairs sexy . They may also find you sexy when you act like hard to catch bird or when you get mad at them they gonna find it sexy . They gonna find it sexy when your cum flows out or just when your salivas mix with eachothers . They ofcourse gonna find sexual connection find you super attractive . They may also find it sexy when you let the intimacy build between eachother . They may also find sext when you let them dominate probably they have capricorn placements. Also this connection isn't just physical sexual intimacy it's far more stronger than that a soul level deep connection guided by divine.

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Pile 4

Pile 4 : I feel they find your curves sexy like the way you sit on couch the pillow position that makes you comfortable in while sitting. They may like to notice small details about you . They over all find your physical beauty sexy your hairs , your lips and lipstick on it , your eyes , your eyelashes. They're so in love with your beauty . They also find your dressing sense sexy . Like how your body fits perfect in the dresses you wear and how they make your curves highlight. They find your introvertness sexy . They find it sexy when you speak less and act like a old monk . They find it sexy when you act like old soul. You could be probably a old school typa lover or they could be like that too . They find it sexy when you give them advices on their important matters . They like to add your 2 cents too . They may also find it sexy when you're all covered up in those furry hooded dresses or like bear dresses thingy . They also find your dense nature sexy . They may also find it sexy when you get cold like it's their chance to make love or just cuddle with you .

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I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀Bless you and have a nice day🌸🐰

Loads of love , jam\gem🩷

Exchanges : open , collabs for paps : open

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muqingslover · 1 day ago

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[ Caleb canonically doing MC's laundry has set something off in my brain so here I am. Also, happy Valentine's day ! here's a longer one as a treat from me ;) I've been posting kinda of non-stop haha ] if you saw me post this before no you didn't

This has happened before. In fact, it had happened a few too many times for his sanity's sake. Whenever Caleb offered to do your laundry to be helpful he always had to deal with the strain in his pants that he pretended wasn't there by covering his lap with a magazine and thinking about literally anything else besides that tantalizing piece of fabric. He's been a good man, or at least he's always tried to be one for you. But was it really his fault if the situation was presented to him with a quite literally adorable little red bow?

Still, he has an admiring amount of self-restraint and for days he told himself he should give them back to you. Every time you two met he kept waiting for the moment to return it, clutching the fabric in his pocket, but all he received were reasons not to. Or perhaps, he just saw what he wanted to see. That's how a week turned into months and then the tortuous years without contact that drove him to the brink of insanity. Fighting back the urge to find you again and do everything his mind has fantasized about countless times was one of the hardest battles he ever faced, and that was saying something.

"Fuck..." He exhaled shakily. His head hit the wall behind him and he spread his legs further on the chair of his private quarters, keeping a firm hand wrapped around the base of his cock. It started after he found the old pair of panties that he had so carefully stored away and now all his mind had to offer were twisted fantasies. Caleb was in biiig trouble— He had to leave in less than fifteen minutes for a meeting and there were security officers constantly passing by his door, but he was past the stage that a simple cold shower and mental math equations would make the issue go away. The images of how the fabric would've adorned your curves in all the right places were soon followed by the memories of how sometimes he'd get a sneak peek when you bent over in front of him and gods that was the sexiest thing he's ever seen.

His metallic hand clutched the delicate fabric tighter as he trapped the lace between his teeth to force down another low groan when his palm began moving up and down again and the faint smell of your soap made his mind feel fuzzy. He was so sensitive that it ached to be touched— He was sure if this was your hand he'd have come on the spot the second your fingers brushed against him. Hell, if you breathed a bit too closely to his cock he'd fall apart like the pathetic man he is and he can only picture how your beautiful face would look covered with his cum. Can you blame him though? He's never even considered doing this with anyone else, nor will he ever do that, and his busy military life didn't leave much space for his own...moments.

He released the lace from his teeth and pressed the red fabric against his swollen tip, accidentally letting out a strained moan that was a bit too loud as his eyes rolled back into his head. He decided to quickly shut himself up by pushing his dog tag into his mouth to bite down on the metal, otherwise everyone outside his room would know just what the colonel was doing. Caleb imagined that the wet line his precum had made was because of your arousal for him instead. The way it would seep through the thin fabric and mark your pussy for him in such a filthy way. The way he'd lick along the damp spot and enjoy each and every sound that he'd surely drag out of your throat while he had your thighs around his head.

His hips jerked as he thrusted himself into his hand, into your panties, into you. The room filled with his barely contained ragged breathing as he hoped your pussy would be as much of a slippery mess as his cock was right now when he pushed past your slit, stretching you open so good yet so agonizingly slow. His grasp around his length was tight when the friction of the thin fabric against his dripping cock sent him over the edge and he came so hard his body twitched non-stop. His dog tag slipped from his lips, dangling around his neck again as he slumped back against the chair after his strength left his body momentarily.

His eyes landed on the red panties that were now coated in his thick, white cum and Caleb raised his hand to bring the messy cloth to his lips. He pushed his tongue out and licked along right at the middle where your soaked cunt would be, tasting his own release and wishing it was yours. It was a shame he had gotten such a pretty and precious thing dirty but, not to worry, he's always been good at cleaning up.

#tumblr issues #sighhhh #anyway enjoy #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #lads smut #lads caleb #caleb x reader #caleb smut #lads x reader #lads

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literatureloverx · 2 days ago

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Celebrating Valentine’s Day with BSD men

BSD men x reader, I did not use pronouns for the reader, but in some cases, it is subtly implied to be female, though not overtly so.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

He would gift you—very much in line with what Asagiri confirmed—an entire country. Be prepared to manage political affairs because you will be the president and owner of your favourite nation. Congratulations!

Expect a lavish candlelit dinner, accompanied by classical music and an exquisite orchestra.

You can also look forward to many other gifts—he is never one to hold back. Your shared bedroom will likely be filled with presents, each meticulously crafted and designed just for you. The sheer intricacy and depth of his knowledge about you will leave you breathless.

The night will conclude with a magnificent fireworks display.

You made the right choice by choosing to live in isolation with him, basking in the luxury he provides—not that your answer would have made a difference if you had said no.

Dazai Osamu

We all know that Dazai—the Dazai—is, unsurprisingly, utterly broke and survives off the money of his fellow ADA members, such as Atsushi and Kunikida. (We love a pest.🩵)

He isn’t the overtly romantic type, but that doesn’t mean his love is any less intense.

He will likely buy you a bouquet of roses with Kunikida’s money and give Atsushi his best puppy-dog eyes to help him get you a pair of matching rings.

But then comes the truly unexpected part—he takes you stargazing in the freezing cold, having put in all the effort to create a soft, cosy space for you both to lie on, complete with extra blankets and pillows.

And when it starts snowing? You are going home, of course—not that he didn’t account for this. He has another present waiting for you there—one he actually bought himself, which is precisely why he had no money left for anything else.

He is a pervert. That is all I am going to say.

Nakahara Chuuya

Another man with refined tastes and a big, considerate, loving heart for his darling. He would spend weeks—if not months—thinking about the perfect way to celebrate this day with you, determined to make it unforgettable.

Chuuya pays attention—he really does, because he cares that much. Though he is not the best with subtleties, he does his best to take mental notes on everything you like and dislike, everything you want and do not want.

So, expect gifts that are carefully chosen, each one making it clear just how much he notices about you.

The evening will likely begin with him presenting you with a luxuriously crafted dress from a high-end designer—one he specifically picked for you. He wants you to wear it because he is taking you somewhere special, and of course, you will, with the brightest smile on your face.

You will dine at an exclusive restaurant, sharing exquisite wine and food together.

And knowing Chuuya, he will not stop at just one gift. Throughout the night, he will keep surprising you, giving you something new every half hour—because spoiling you is just second nature to him.

Nikolai Gogol

Haha, you silly thing. You actually think Valentine’s Day is romantic? That ridiculous day where Homo sapiens willingly cage themselves—not even in their own perception of love, but in the artificial fantasy constructed by capitalism?

Just joking. If you find it romantic, then of course, he does too. Or at least, he pretends to. Watching your reactions to his “gifts” is far too entertaining. He might as well play along and turn this whole romance thing into one of his little games.

Expect the most outrageous surprises—perhaps he will take you on a helicopter ride, only to reveal that he has written I love you on the ground below… using meticulously arranged corpses. A heartfelt, handcrafted message just for you.

Or maybe he will gift you something else grotesque—something that reminds him of you or symbolises your love in his own twisted way.

Oh, and expect plenty of Valentine’s Day quizzes.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Now, here is someone who has no idea what to do with himself on Valentine’s Day.

To him, it is pointless. Why should this day be any different from the others? And why are you looking at him like that? The expectation in your gaze makes him feel cornered.

But Akutagawa hates being behind on anything. So, despite thinking this whole thing is ridiculous (such a tsundere), he still makes an effort. He prepares something for you—a small but meaningful gift, something that proves he has thought about you, about this day, and has put effort into making you happy.

And once it is over, he lets out a relieved sigh.

Yet, later that night, when he recalls the joy on your face upon receiving his gift, he feels something warm and unfamiliar flicker inside him. He refuses to acknowledge it—but deep down, he knows.

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levanterhaze · 16 hours ago

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── GAMEBOY, BANGCHAN

♡ ― 󠀬󠀬 fratboy!bangchan x f!reader there's no smut in this one just a sliiiight mention of it, this is just drama and angst because this chapter will tell a lot about their future relationship! contains mentions of anxiety too.

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[5.5k words ]♡― i can't believe that so many people like gameboy, like, that's crazy! thanks for everyone's support. to those who ask to be added to the taglist, it warms my heart. if you want to talk about the story or anything else, i'm open to questions and conversation! don't forget to listen to the playlist and those who just got here PLEASE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS!!!! that said, have a good read.

♡― THE PLAYLIST.

♡ [part one] ♡ [part two] ♡ [part three]

You're scared of heights, that's vertigo You wanted lights, go see a show You ran away, that's touch and go You're scared of love, well, aren't we all?

What was supposed to be a one-time thing turned into two days, then three, then four. Before you even realized it, seeing him had become part of your routine, like breathing—natural, inevitable, and far too easy to justify.

Today, though, your mind was anywhere but on him. Mrs. Baek had scheduled a meeting, nothing more, nothing less. You and Hyunjin were goofing around, hands clasped as you twirled like a chaotic, offbeat version of Jack and Rose at a third-rate ballroom. Seungmin doubled over laughing, because of course he did. That was just your dynamic—ridiculous by nature, friends for life.

Then, everything stopped. A chorus of surprised gasps cut through the room, followed by an eruption of chatter that made your spinning halt. Confused, you glanced around, searching for the source of the commotion—until you saw her. Mrs. Baek stood at the front, and next to her…

No. Absolutely not.

Your stomach flipped as your eyes landed on him. Standing there with his head tilted slightly downward, one hand gripping the opposite arm—ridiculously muscular, by the way—Bangchan looked unfairly good in a black T-shirt that was doing the bare minimum to cover anything.

Your gaze flickered to Hyunjin, then to Seungmin, silently demanding an explanation, but before either of them could speak, Mrs. Baek’s voice cut through the haze of your disbelief.

“…which is why we now have a new student to take care of the sound design. Welcome, Bangchan.”

And then—anger.

The girls whispered like they’d just witnessed the famous idol in the world. Bangchan basked in the attention, grinning at them, then at the guys. And then, of course, his eyes found you. One brow lifted, pure challenge.

No. Fucking. Way.

“Sound design? Since when?” you weren’t really expecting an answer, but Hyunjin, ever the dependable sidekick, squeezed your shoulder and offered a half-smile.

“It’s kinda his and Jisung’s thing,” he said, arms crossed as he observed Bangchan effortlessly charm his way through the group. “Jisung’s drowning in work this semester, so I guess that’s why.”

Oh, how nice. How convenient. You couldn’t care less. It was one thing sneaking around with him in secret. It was another for him to invade your space. Your special space. And worse—acting like he belonged there.

As soon as the group began to break apart, you made your exit, feet moving fast. The last thing you needed was—

“Running away already?”

You stopped dead, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. Spinning on your heel, you found Bangchan standing there, arms crossed, smirking like he had all the time in the world.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you shot back.

“Ouch.” he clutched his chest, faking a wince. “You look angry.”

“Oh, do I?” your voice dripped with sarcasm. “That’s because I am.”

Lucky for him, the corridor was empty—just the theater crew lingering in the distance.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you demanded.

“Gonna need you to be more specific.”

You inhaled sharply. “Seriously? Sound design? You don’t even like theater.”

He took a step closer, brows furrowing.

“How would you know? We’re not friends.” the way he said it was off—something about his tone made your stomach twist. But you ignored it. “And if you actually bothered to find out, you’d know that, shockingly, I do this for real.”

You hated being proven wrong. But you especially hated being proven wrong by Bangchan.

“Look,” you sighed, arms crossing. “I don’t know what your game is, okay? But just… don’t mess things up. I like them the way they are.”

Bangchan nodded, slow and deliberate. But something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable. His stomach clenched, and he didn’t like the reason why. Because the way you said it, like having him here without sex was some kind of inconvenience, left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” his voice dropped an octave, sharp and cold. He met your gaze head-on, not an ounce of warmth left. “The world doesn’t revolve around you.”

And just like a punch to the gut left hanging in the air, he was gone. No rush, no glance back—just the weight of his words lingering between you.

Things were a mess, and you needed to get a grip. Studying, focusing—doing something that wasn’t theater or… well, him. The last few days had blurred together, your attention split in ways you weren’t used to. And you hated it.

The library was too quiet, the kind of silence that crawled under your skin. Three art history books sat open in front of you, mocking your lack of focus. It was ridiculous. How the hell had you let some guy scramble your brain like this? That wasn’t you. It had never been you.

Frustration boiled over, and before you knew it, you snapped one of the books shut, the sharp thud cutting through the silence.

“Jesus. What did the book ever do to you?”

The voice came from behind you, smooth and amused. You barely looked up before Mingyu’s face came into view. It hit you then—how distracted you’d been at the fundraiser. Otherwise, you definitely would have noticed him before. That annoyingly charming, white-knight smile. Tanned skin. Muscles for days.

He grinned, leaning over your table, arms flexing just enough to be intentional.

“Sorry. My head's a mess.”

Mingyu nodded, taking in your exasperated, borderline fried expression. “Yeah, you look like it,” he said with a knowing half-smile, sliding into the empty chair across from you like he belonged there. No permission needed.

You sighed, gesturing vaguely at the books. “Just trying to focus.”

His smirk deepened. “Right. Because nothing says laser focus like slamming a textbook shut like it just insulted your mother.”

You huffed, but the corner of your mouth twitched.

“Well, since you’re clearly on the verge of a breakdown, I have an idea.” He leaned back, stretching in a way that was both casual and strategic. “A coffee. On me.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but your phone vibrated against the table, barely visible beneath the stack of books. A quick glance at the screen. One new message.

Bangchan: my dorm. 30 min.

Your pulse jumped. Short. Direct. No room for misinterpretation.

“Everything okay?” Mingyu’s voice pulled you back, his eyes scanning your face.

“Yeah, yeah.” you laughed, maybe too lightly. “Just… distracted. Coffee sounds good.”

His grin widened. “Perfect. Let’s go.”

“Just let me put this back…” you grabbed one of the books, heading for the shelf when your phone buzzed again.

Bangchan: ignoring me?

You exhaled, fingers hovering over the screen.

You: I can't. I have plans.

A pause. Then—

Bangchan: ok.

You pressed your forehead against the bookshelf, inhaling deeply, willing away the strange tightness in your stomach. It was ridiculous. It was just a text.

When you returned, Mingyu was still at the table, casually texting someone. He looked up as you approached, grinning. “Everything good?”

“Yeah.” you nodded, forcing a smile.

He was nice enough to grab your bag and help carry your notebooks, the easy charm of someone who had probably been effortlessly handsome his whole life. The café wasn’t far—just a short walk from campus—but the crowd made it feel like the busiest spot in town.

Mingyu picked a table near the entrance, the air thick with the smell of espresso and fresh pastries. Strawberry sponge cake. Cinnamon rolls. Chocolate mousse cupcakes. The kind of place that made you want to abandon all responsibilities and drown yourself in sugar.

And yet, as you sat down, all you could think about was the ok.

Mingyu ordered coffee for you both but went the extra mile, adding a slice of strawberry shortcake to share.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” you smiled, wrapping your hands around your cup, already feeling the caffeine seep into your system like a lifeline.

He shrugged. “I wanted to. You looked like you needed something sweet.”

You caught the double meaning but let it slide. He was being nice, and you weren’t in the mood to overanalyze. “Right. So… football?” Smooth. Real smooth.

Mingyu didn’t seem to mind. “Going well. We’re set for the next game, and if we keep this up, the next university sponsorship should be ours.”

“That’s great, Mingyu.”

“Yeah, but I heard drama class was saved. Good news, huh?”

“Great news. We’ve got enough for now.” you took a bite of cake, letting the sugar melt on your tongue. Mingyu watched you, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I’m happy for you. Getting the basketball team to sell brownies half-naked must’ve been a real passion project.”

You laughed. “It was, but that wasn’t me. That was Bangchan.”

It felt strange, saying his name out loud. Different when he wasn’t there.

Mingyu frowned, arms crossing over the table.

“Bangchan did that?” his brows knitted together, skepticism lacing his tone.

You shrugged, taking another bite of cake. “That’s what I heard. Why? You guys friends?” the idea alone made your stomach twist in an oddly unpleasant way.

“No. Not even close.” he laughed, shaking his head as if the thought was ridiculous. “Just curious.”

“Well, instead of wasting brain cells on him, you should try this.” you pushed the plate slightly toward him. “It’s actually amazing.”

Mingyu picked up a fork, took a bite, and let out an appreciative groan. You grinned, clapping your hands as if you had just won a bet, then promptly stole another piece for yourself.

Being with him was easy—effortless, even. A surprising friendship you hadn't expected but didn’t mind one bit.

Back at the dorm, Eunji and Sohee were curled up on the couch, sharing a bucket of popcorn while a movie played on the laptop. Your casual entrance was met with two pairs of curious eyes locking onto you like detectives sniffing out a case.

“Where have you been?” Eunji narrowed her eyes, her fingers pausing mid-popcorn grab.

“Why?” you laughed, kicking off your shoes.

“You’ve been acting weird,” she accused, tilting her head. “Always busy, barely around.”

“Sorry, I... I've just been very busy. The theater is eating me up. And there's the exams...”

Sohee smirked. “Why do you smell like coffee?”

“What?” you instinctively sniffed your shirt, the rich aroma of espresso lingering faintly.

Eunji gasped, scandalized. “You totally went out with someone!”

Sohee just shook her head knowingly, already seeing through you. “Liar.”

“Alright, fine! I got coffee with Mingyu. Happy now?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Sohee’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Mingyu from the soccer team?”

Eunji, on the other hand, nearly leaped off the couch. “Girl, you rocked it! I knew you had game, but Mingyu? That man is fine.”

You groaned, already regretting your life choices. “It wasn’t a thing, okay? We’re friends. We had coffee. That’s it.”

Eunji scoffed, dramatic as ever. “Honey, nothing with Mingyu is just coffee. That man doesn’t do casual.” she clasped her hands together like she was already planning your wedding.

You sighed, exasperated. “Make her stop.” you turned to Sohee, your last hope.

But Sohee just smirked. “I mean… she’s not wrong.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Oh my God.”

“Look, you’ve been drowning in rehearsals and exams. Maybe this is a good thing,” Sohee added, ever the voice of reason.

A good thing. That uneasy feeling crawled up your spine again.

Because the problem wasn’t Mingyu.

Because you had met someone. Someone who already occupied every corner of your mind. Someone who texted you with demands instead of invitations. Someone who kissed like it was the only language he spoke.

And that someone sure as hell wasn’t Mingyu.

“Alright, I’m done.” you grabbed your things and stood up. “I’m taking a shower. Goodnight.”

Before they could say another word, you ducked into your room, shutting the door behind you.

Now, if only you could shut off your thoughts just as easily.

It was lunchtime, and the table was buzzing with chatter. It had been nearly two days since you’d heard from Bangchan. Odd, right? The silence felt almost intentional. No texts, no glances that said too much.

You were sharing a basket of French fries with Hyunjin when suddenly, that topic came up. Jisung was DJing at another party this weekend, and everyone was planning to go. Of course, Eunji—bless her heart and big mouth—decided now was the time to bring up the perfect subject.

“You should invite Mingyu, now that you’re going out and all.”

You nearly choked on a fry, coughing like you’d just inhaled a cloud of smoke. Hyunjin slapped your back, but you could feel all eyes on you as the table went silent, then turned to look in your direction.

Bangchan, seated across from you, slouched in his chair like he didn’t care. But you knew better. The tension radiating from him was like a ticking time bomb.

“You’re seeing Mingyu?” Hyunjin’s voice dripped with mock disbelief. “How am I your best friend, and this is news to me?”

Great. Just great. The whole table was waiting for an answer, and suddenly, everything felt like it was about to spiral out of control.

“Going out with Mingyu? Really?” Changbin raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “I thought you had better taste, bro.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m not dating anyone!” you shot back, finally managing to catch your breath after the shock of the conversation.

“Sure, sure. But you two went out the other day, didn’t you?” Eunji grinned, clearly enjoying every second of it.

You felt it before you saw it: Bangchan’s eyes, burning into the side of your head. His silence wasn’t just a void, it was a warning, sharp and heavy. You should’ve felt guilty—after all, you had brushed him aside for Mingyu.

“But we’re not together,” you quickly clarified, hoping to quell whatever storm was brewing behind his eyes. “And he’s practically at every party anyway. It’s not like he’s not going to show up.”

Eunji wasn’t buying it. “Still should invite him, though.”

Hyunjin tossed an arm around your shoulders, all casual but still sorta protective. “Alright, stop messing with my girl,” he said, voice light but you could tell he wasn’t having it.

You muttered a quick ‘thank you,’ relieved when the focus shifted away from you. Your thoughts drifted as you nibbled on the end of your fry, mind half on your food, half on the tension buzzing at the table.

Bangchan, though, wasn't as distracted. He sat there, twisting his tongue inside his cheek, fighting off the surge of frustration coiling in his gut. The thought of you with Mingyu? It hit him like a wrecking ball. Not just because you had ditched him for the guy, but Mingyu.

He could hardly keep his anger in check. Only his closest friends knew the history between the two of them—and no one, especially not you, would ever guess how deep that hatred ran.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. Without a word, he stood, breaking the rhythm of the conversation.

“Leaving already?” Changbin asked, raising an eyebrow. Lunch still had half an hour left, but Bangchan didn’t seem to care.

“Yeah, gotta handle something,” he muttered, his voice sharp enough to make everyone shut up for a second.

The group barely noticed his departure. You certainly didn’t. After all, it wasn’t like anything was out of the ordinary. Right?

The days were flying by, and with every one that passed, the auditions loomed closer. The lineup was finally set—each student would perform next Friday, the day before Jisung’s party. No pressure or anything. Your nerves were on high alert, and anxiety was practically gnawing at your bones.

And then there was Bangchan. Or rather, the lack of him. You hadn’t heard a word from him in days. During the rare times you actually sat with the guys for lunch, his seat was just... empty. And you pretended not to care, stealing quick glances and keeping your mouth shut.

Most of your free time was spent holed up in the library, pretending to study, or locked in your room, trying to convince yourself that, yes, you could totally make it through the semester without crumbling under stress. Mingyu had texted you a few times, but you’d dodged his messages so hard that even you felt guilty about it.

Not that he seemed to care. The guy was persistent. He still wanted to take you out, get to know you, charm his way into... whatever he was aiming for. Just today, he’d invited you to join him and the soccer team at some bar near campus. Apparently, they were celebrating a big win—not that you had a single clue who they even played against.

You needed to get out. Desperately. But showing up solo to a team hangout? That was a level of confidence even you didn’t have. So, naturally, you did what any sane person would—you called your emergency contact.

Hyunjin picked up before the second ring.

“Well, well, look who finally decided to return from the dead,” he drawled.

“Yeah, yeah. Roast me later. Right now, I need a favor.”

“Hm. Depends.”

“There’ll be drinks,” you baited, already knowing his answer.

He sighed dramatically. “Fine. But if I go, you have to give me the full rundown on whatever mess you’ve got going on with Mingyu.”

You exhaled sharply, tilting your head back like the universe was punishing you. “Ugh. Deal.”

Satisfied, you threw on a black fit—strappy top, skirt, boots, plus a long-sleeved cardigan for balance—and grabbed your phone to text Hyunjin.

And that’s when you saw him.

Bangchan.

Walking toward his dorm, jacket slung over his shoulder, bag in one hand. The second he spotted you, it was like his brain hit a hard reset. Blue screen. No thoughts, just you.

You, on the other hand? You just…froze. Phone still hovering mid-air like you were trying to signal the mothership.

He looked good, annoyingly so—tired, sure, but with that effortlessly undone look that made you want to fix things that weren’t even broken. And judging by the way his jaw tightened ever so slightly, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to see you looking this good either.

You could practically hear the battle happening in his head. Logic telling him to keep walking. Instinct screaming at him to drag you somewhere private and remind you exactly why you shouldn’t be ignoring him.

But no. Neither of you moved. Just standing there, locked in some ridiculous silent standoff from across the way.

That is, until a hand brushed against yours.

“Took you long enough,” Hyunjin teased, but his voice trailed off the second he noticed who had stolen your attention. His steps slowed, eyes flicking between you and Bangchan like he’d just walked into the middle of a soap opera.

You bit back a smirk, shoving down the weird twist in your stomach. “Shall we?”

Hyunjin hesitated, still piecing things together. Then, with a last glance at Bangchan—who looked like he was about two seconds away from saying something he’d regret—he sighed.

“Yeah,” he muttered, brows still furrowed. “Let’s go.”

The moment you step into the bar, Mingyu zeroes in on you like a man on a mission—half-drunk, half-thrilled, and entirely shameless about how his gaze drags over you. He grins, tells you how gorgeous you look, and hands you a shot of soju like it’s a requirement for entry.

Hyunjin, of course, fits right in immediately, the social butterfly that he is. Meanwhile, you start to relax, the initial nerves fading as the drinks flow and the unfamiliar space becomes less intimidating. Mingyu’s friends are nice—too nice. The kind of nice that feels like they're sizing you up, like you’re some kind of prize waiting to be claimed. Mingyu’s prize.

The room is loud, buzzing with alcohol-fueled laughter and drunken debates, but your thoughts are fixated on something else. Someone else. And damn it, Mingyu is right there, flashing that easy smile, brushing his fingers against yours like it’s an accident every single time. Complimenting you in ways that should make your stomach flip.

But all you can think about is the guy who hasn’t spoken to you in days. The one who supposedly doesn’t want you anymore.

Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

With a frustrated sigh, you push back your chair and stand. You’re not even tipsy, but everything suddenly feels too hot, too suffocating.

“I need water,” you mutter, more to yourself than anyone else, and head for the bar before you do something stupid.

Mingyu appeared at your side, leaning against the bar like he had all the time in the world.

"All good?"

You forced a smile, gripping the cool glass of water like it could ground you. "Yeah. Just needed something cold."

"Glad you came," he said, smirking slightly as he looked down at you.

He’s the one you should want, the one who actually wants you.

Your gaze flickered to his lips. A bad idea waiting to happen.

Mingyu caught the hesitation, eyes darkening as he glanced between your lips and your eyes. You barely had time to register what was happening before your hands found his shoulders, his lips pressing against yours.

The guys erupted in cheers, their drunken approval ringing out across the bar.

And after that, a blur of stolen kisses, too much soju, and voices too loud to ignore.

The night air was crisp against your flushed skin as you and Hyunjin walked back toward campus. The distant hum of the city buzzed in your ears, the alcohol still warm in your veins, though the high of the night had started to fade. Your heels clicked against the pavement, and Hyunjin, ever the gentleman, walked just a step closer in case you stumbled.

“You good?” he asked, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

You hummed a response, not trusting yourself to say anything else. Your mind was a tangled mess of soju, Mingyu’s lips, and something deeper—something you weren’t ready to admit.

Hyunjin let the silence settle for a moment before he spoke again. “If I ask you something, will you be honest with me?”

You sighed, already bracing yourself. Here it comes. “If it’s about Mingyu, I—”

“It’s not.” he cut you off, tone softer than before. “It’s about Bangchan.”

Your stomach twisted.

You stopped walking, your breath caught somewhere between your lungs and your throat. Your hands fidgeted, grasping for something—anything—to ground you. “Why would you ask that?” you muttered, trying to play it off, but even you could hear the slight tremble in your voice.

Hyunjin tilted his head, studying you. “I figured it all out.”

A sharp inhale stung your chest, and before you could even think of a response, it hit you. The overwhelming, suffocating weight of everything you’d been trying to bury. The frustration, the confusion, the way he made you feel like you were something and nothing all at once.

“Oh, shit,” Hyunjin muttered, eyes widening as the tears spilled over. “Come here.”

He pulled you into his chest, letting you press your face into his shoulder. You clung to his jacket, shaking as silent sobs wracked through you. Half-drunk, half-heartbroken, you let yourself break in the only safe place you had at that moment—Hyunjin’s arms.

“I don’t— I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” you mumbled against the fabric of his hoodie, voice barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin sighed, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

But it wasn’t okay. None of it was.

After a few minutes, he gently pulled away and wordlessly handed you a bottle of water he’d bought from a vending machine nearby. You took it with shaky hands, gulping down the cool liquid as if it could wash away the lump in your throat.

As you wiped your eyes, Hyunjin leaned against the streetlamp, watching you carefully. “Talk to me. What’s going on with you and Bangchan?”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “I wish I knew.”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

With a deep, shaky breath, you finally let it spill. “It started as something casual. No expectations.” your fingers tightened around the water bottle. “But then he started pulling away. And I don’t know if it’s because he got bored, or if I did something wrong, or if this was always the plan. I don’t even know if I want more, but the fact that I’m this messed up over it?” you scoffed, blinking back fresh tears. “That has to mean something, right?”

Hyunjin exhaled, his gaze thoughtful. “Damn.”

You let out a wet laugh. “That’s all you got?”

“I mean, what do you want me to say? That doesn’t sound casual to me.”

Your stomach twisted. You knew that. You knew that. But hearing it out loud made it real in a way you weren’t ready for.

You swallowed hard, voice small. “I got myself into this mess. I was the one who asked him to keep it a secret.”

Hyunjin frowned, his posture shifting. “Why?”

“Because I was scared,” you admitted, the words raw in your throat. “Scared of what people would say. Scared of the judgment. You know how it is—girls get torn apart for way less. And I worked too hard, cared too much to be reduced to just that girl who’s hooking up with Bangchan.” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “And now? Now I don’t even know how to deal with it. Because I was supposed to hate him, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin was quiet for a moment, his usual teasing gone. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight. But you also don’t have to go through this alone.”

Your throat tightened. “I feel like an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.” he bumped his shoulder against yours. “You’re just in deep.”

You exhaled shakily, leaning into his warmth as you both started walking again.

“Look, I don’t have the answers. But I do know you’re not crazy for feeling this way.” he squeezed your shoulder. “And if he’s too much of an idiot to see what he has, then maybe you should let him be the one losing sleep over it.”

You sniffled, managing a weak smile. “You’re my soulmate, Hyun.”

“Damn right I am,” he said, flashing you a grin. “Now drink your water before you pass out, drama queen.”

You laughed—actually laughed—and for the first time that night, the weight on your chest felt just a little bit lighter.

The day had finally arrived. Showtime. No matter how many times you’d done this, stepping on stage always felt like a first-time, heart-in-your-throat kind of thing.

Up in the audience, Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Sohee were posted a few rows above Mrs. Baek, waiting for you to do your thing. No pressure.

Backstage was quiet—eerily so. You sat there, taking slow, deep breaths, wiping your sweaty palms against your thighs like a seasoned pro in pre-show anxiety management. You were next. Three minutes. One shot. No room for mediocrity.

You’d chosen a song that wasn’t just sentimental—it was a statement. A vocal rollercoaster that climbed from deep, rich lows to a falsetto so clean it could cut glass. If you were going to go down, at least you’d do it swinging.

Reaching into your bag for your water bottle, you were mid-sip when movement in the distance caught your attention.

And just like that, reality glitched. Bangchan.

It was almost ridiculous how unreal he looked, like a mirage conjured from some fever dream. You hadn’t seen him in days, and yet here he was, strolling in like he hadn’t been living rent-free in your mind this whole damn time.

Laptop in hand, fingers flying across the keyboard, looking every bit the sound tech genius he was. You hadn’t expected him to actually show up for this gig, but—oh, look—there he was, punching buttons like he was defusing a bomb.

Then, he saw you. And something shifted.

His fingers stilled, tightening around the laptop.

The air was heavy. The tension was palpable. Whatever was going on between you two didn’t need words—it was written in every sharp breath, every stolen glance.

And just like that, your pre-show jitters had a new contender.

"Hi," you muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

Bangchan gave you a small, polite smile—too polite. Something about it felt off. The usual spark in his eyes? Gone. And that was all it took for reality to sink in.

So that’s it, huh?

The game was over. You had your answer. He was done, and honestly? You couldn’t even be mad—because weren’t you just as much to blame?

Mrs. Baek’s voice cut through the buzzing in your head, thanking the student who had just finished performing. You’re next.

You turned away from Bangchan, unscrewed your water bottle, and took a long sip, willing yourself to focus. Breathe. Lock in. You’ve got this.

Then it happened. A warm touch on your waist—his touch.

Your body betrayed you instantly, heat rippling through your skin like a live wire. It had been days, and yet, all it took was this—a single touch—to remind you how much you’d missed him.

You spun around, frowning, swallowing hard as your gaze locked onto his.

Bangchan didn’t back down. If anything, he doubled down.

His arm lifted, caging you in the small space between you and the backstage wall, pulling your bodies so close it was downright insane. His head tilted slightly, studying you, reading every little reaction like he already knew the ending to this story.

Without warning, Bangchan crashed his lips onto yours, his free hand gripping your waist like he had no plans of letting go. His palm slid up your back, fingers teasing under the hem of your shirt, branding heat into your skin.

You barely had time to process before his tongue was in your mouth, claiming, demanding—like he was making up for every second of distance between you.

A sound slipped past your lips—a mix between a sigh and a moan, involuntary, unstoppable.

God, you hated how easily he unraveled you. And worse? You loved it too.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his sweatshirt, yanking him closer—like you needed him just a little closer, just a little longer. Your lips moved in sync, deepening the moment, drowning out everything else.

Then—

Mrs. Baek’s voice rang through the backstage, shouting your name.

Then reality crashed back in.

But instead of nerves clawing at your stomach, instead of the suffocating pressure you’d felt moments ago, there was something lighter—something electric. Like a field of wildflowers blooming where anxiety used to sit.

You pulled back, panting, heart racing, but this time? You were smiling. Bangchan, just as breathless, leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"Break a leg," he murmured.

And just like that, you knew you would.

♡ taglist ― @kenia4 @chrizrizz @meerabmalik @gnabnahcsworld @gncbnahc @jinniejjam @skzworldx @itsacatastrophe-xo @soonie1010 @4ng3l-ch1ld @justwonder113 @tsunderelino @eastjonowhere @lyracarvahall @akindaflora @victoriaaf @ebnabi @wickedbutlovely

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itsseohannbin · 2 days ago

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hard bangchan thoughts || dark romance

disclaimer: every single time I come across this photo of bangchan, I am absolutely wrecked with the most vile, dirty, inhumane thoughts, so please enjoy this as it's been on my mind for LITERAL WEEKS now and I can't stop.

Warnings: hard thoughts. swearing. established relationship. smut. unprotected sex. voyeurism & exhibitionism. mentions the titles and contexts of several intense dark romance books that are not suitable for younger audiences. (i.e gun/knife play, somno, stalking, kidnapping, bondage. etc etc) (if you choose to research these books, please do so at your risk as they include some pretty heavy and intense topics.) roleplaying (??). I think that's it. let me know if I missed any!

Enjoy! [lower case intended. not proof read]

everytime i see this photo of chan i'm brought back to the same scenario in my head that i've been having for months? years?

like, you and chan decide to go on a little bookstore date where you purchase some starbucks and walk around a popular bookstore chain, both of you browsing and exploring and just enjoying the relaxing atmosphere. at some point, the two of you get separated, chan going off to look through the graphic novel section while you bee-line right to the romance section. or more so, the dark romance section.

you've always been a lover of dark romance novels. you've read your fair share of nasty, vile, intense books, like haunting adeline, the ritual & the sacrifice, and so much more. you use the trigger warnings at the beginning of each book as a checklist that covers all your favorite topics to read about, no matter how crazy or intense they are.

so, hours later, when chan has finally decided on the books he wants to purchase and take home, he comes looking for you. as per usual, he finds you curled up in a chair on the second floor of the building, in the corner near the dark romance section. he greets you with a kiss on the head, but you barely register his actions, too engrossed in the newest instalment from your favorite dark romance author. chan just chuckles, shaking his head as he sits down across from you, sipping on the remains of his drink while he watches you with dark eyes. and he watches you so intensely its amazing how you don't look up to meet his fiery gaze.

he never understood your obsession with the genre. it was too intense for him, too out of bounds for his liking. he's read over your shoulder one too many times to understand what kind of shit you're into, and although he loves you dearly, he could never bring himself to subject his brain to that type of rot. but there's something about the way you're reading so intently now, the nail of your thumb between your front teeth, eyes scrunched forward in concentration. something about the way your legs subtly shift together, as if you're trying to adjust yourself into a more comfortable position, but chan knows better. you only fidget like this when you're really nervous or really turned on, and based on the way you're hiding a cheeky, embarrassed smile behind the cuff of your sleeve, he can only assume its the latter. and that's where his obsession then starts.

he's not obsessed with reading the books, but obsessed with finding out which part in these books is giving you such a physical reaction. he's determined to find out just what is making you squirmy and horny every time you have a relaxing reading night together. so chan does his research. he takes note of all the books he's seen give you that reaction and he researches them. he downloads previews of the chapters, blushing with embarrassment when he reads some of the stuff these books have in them. like being fucked with the barrel of a gun, or being stalked in the safety of your own home. chan is so intrigued and so confused and disturbed at the same time. of course, he would NEVER do anything of this to you, that would be too far, but he wants to plan something to get that type of reaction out of you, to make you moan his name and not zade fucking matthews'.

so that's how you ended up here months later, spread out on the bed with chan slowly and roughly dragging his long, thick cock against your tight walls, the ridges and veins driving you insane with each passing minute. he's got his eyes locked on you, and yours on him, the eye contact making you preen and break under the pressure. little ah-ah-ahs sit at the tip of your mouth, but you can't let them out, not unless you want your mother to hear what's going on on your end of the phone line. she's yapping in your ear about the family barbeque she's been planning for weeks in advanced, and you're really trying to listen and be encouraging, but it's getting really hard to focus when chan is fucking you so slowly, so deliciously, his large, muscular body hovering over you and caging you in.

he rocks his hips upwards experimentally, causing a hiccup to leave your mouth. chan's eyebrow raises in amusement as the horror takes over your face at the noise you had just made, embarrassment flushing your cheeks when your mom pauses her tyrant and asks if you're alright. 'honey, is everything okay?' she asks, concern lacing her tone. your eyes stay glued to chans, his hands squeezing your hips as he bucks his hips forward once more, almost eliciting a scream from your throat. 'i'm fine mom,' you struggle with getting the words out 'i'm just struggling with.... something at the moment.' chan reaches his hand down and inserts his finger into you alongside his cock, alternating his thrusts to match the opposite of his fingers movements. 'do you need me to let you go?' she asks, completely oblivious to the way your sweet, usually innocent boyfriend is completely rearranging your guts in the most glorious way possible. a 'yes' begs to fall from your lips, but you stop it when you see chan shake his head slowly. confusion passes over your features, his finger and his cock bringing you to feel a new level of pleasure. 'no?' you reply back. chan takes a moment to pull his finger out and wrap his large hands around your pretty throat, growling in your opposite ear 'you hang up and i stop moving'. at that, your orgasm crashes over you and you have no choice but to cry out loudly as the waves hit you like a tsunami. never have you cum so hard before. but omg you just came all over chans cock, crying out loudly with your mother on the phone. horror passes over your features once more and you can feel yourself beginning to panic when chan lifts the phone up, showing you the toggled mute button on screen. he then pulls all the way out and unmutes the phone, putting a finger to his mouth to shut you up before he slams back in, the vibrations from your orgasm only adding to the oversensitivity of it all. 'hello mama,' chan then puts the phone to his ear, his hips picking up pace as he begins to slam into your pussy recklessly. you can feel yourself getting brought over the edge again when he smiles down at you. 'what do you want us to bring for the barbeque?'

~~~~~

Taglist: @moonlightndaydreams @channieandhisgoonsquad @newhope8 @noellllslut @queenmea604 @kaiyaba @rxosies @bethanysnow

#im so sorry this is pure filth omg #bangchan smut #hard thoughts #skz #stray kids smutty thoughts #bangchan x reader

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bangtanhoesthings · 1 day ago

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Long ask.

Forgive me, this will be all over the place.

I have noticed that over the past few years the hate for the boys has been escalating particularly for Jimin, Jungkook and Joonie.

For Joonie, among other things, because as a leader, if they break him, they might break BTS. (Gosh look at him😭. Has me my man, my man, my man-ning all over the place like a dog in heat, it's embarrassing and a little concerning). Sorry, I digressed but look at him 😭😭😭, y'all don't thirst over this man enough. Woof! 🫦

Anyways, moving on.

For Jungkook, among a plethora of other reasons, because of the unrivaled, unmitigated global success he has had and continues to have (am so proud of my funky lil popstar ✨).

He came, he saw, he conquered. Kicked ass and took names. Ate and left no crumbs. Had them by the neck. Pulled up and shut it down (Somebody stop me 😭)

The way some army attribute his success to the 🛴 guy boils my blood, and that rage is for another day.

This post is towards Jimin.

Jimin's hate is both from outside and inside the fandom ( am not talking about solos, toxic shippers, mantis and the like) but people who claim to be 0T7.

I know that Jimin has had haters for years but the shady tweets I saw during the FACE and MUSE era from so called "ARMY" said a lot. Am not here to debate who is or isn't ARMY. That's for another time.

My question is, why does Jimin's success seem to be a sore spot for some 0T7s? The one reason I have been able to come up with is that Jimin sort of messed up the hierarchy system.

Let me explain and see if I make sense. For a long time, when people thought of the maknae line, no matter the order in which they ranked Tae and Kookie, Jimin was always the third one. Too many posts relegating him to the role of cheerleader and not much else. I saw posts before solo works commenced dismissing the idea that Jimin would ever release an album but would instead fully support the others. Well, he not only released two solo albums, but was also a composer, lyricist among other things, so they can take their opinion and smoke it.

When the solo era started, people had different expectations for what every maknae members would achieve but no matter the expectations, those for Jimin were that he would be third. Bronze medalist if you will.

FACE was released, Like Crazy got to number 1 and I logged off twitter. We were in hell particularly when it went from 1 to 45 after Billboard deleted over 100k sales and changed the rules (thank you Travis Scott for freeing Jimin and finally taking that number 1 spot). The hate from outside was expected, it was when it came from within the fandom that it hurt.

Fast forward to MUSE and it got worse. Sprinkle in a dash of Are You Sure and we have

Here I have a list of things I have noticed

1. An increase in the number of people talking about how they hate PJMs and how they are making them turn against Jimin. Honey, if a solo can make you dislike one member, you aren't sh*t anyway.

2. Dislike for Jimin disguised as dislike for his solos. If you haven't seen it, consider yourself lucky.

3. How sometimes ARMY came in droves when a member didn't achieve something but Jimin did. For example Spotify US. When a new song failed to enter but Jimin's songs increased ( during both LC and Who era).

4. His long run on the hot 100 has really revealed people's true colours. It's not his fault. Blame the fandom for their clear bias.

5. The number of ARMY accounts on X low key calling AYS fanservice.

6. Discourse on Jimin's ability to sing. I don't argue with stupid people.

I could go on and on but what I am trying to say is that in a perfect world, it would be wonderful if all the members had the same support from ARMY. The discrepancy needs to be addressed (caused by a multitude of reasons) but making it a member's fault and not the fandom is asinine.

I used to be a 1D fan and my favourite member to date is the least favourite and successful, Louis Tomlinson but that doesn't mean I hate on Harry, Zayn or Niall for their success. I wouldn't even know where to begin.

What prompted this you may ask? I saw a post talking about Jimin being the company and fandom fave and having special support. Like huh?

All in all what I am trying to say is that Jimin really shook things up and some people resent him for it. That one post (article?) about Jimin bringing out either admiration or envy keeps getting proven right.

Keep supporting this angel for a long and happy life.

What do you think are some other reasons for the increase in the 0T6 agenda against Jimin?

#jiminie #jimin #bts #jm #taehyung #namjoon #kim namjoon #bts rm #jungkook #jhope #jin #jikook #yoongi #bts suga #minimoni #seokjin #hobi

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khorneschosen · 17 hours ago

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Again I don't know how you calculate that with a army that is not following the rules of war. Like uniforms.

And again they started this war They made this war what it is They started a war with a war crime I would like you to answer what the fuck I'm talking about rather than just going Well it's I for an eye so it's bad But why is it when the alternative is to let a man blind you is that preferable is it preferable to allow evil their sanction of imposing its will.

Because I'm going to be honest with you if the choice is allow evil to impose its will and blind you concern is with heaven my guy I am not.

Again they caused civilian casualties They chose to cause civilian casualties from their defensive structures to their war plan to the humanitarian crisis at every level You don't get to go eye for an eye and that allow them the right to kill civilians.

Because right now this is the only tool that keeps them from ever doing that shit again. They need to learn You do not target civilians and then pretend that you are own are safe. You do not get to run wars as prehistoric tribes do where extermination is the goal and then turn around and demand the standards of a civilized order.

Again can you condemn the first act of evil and say it should have its consequences. Because all this eye for an eye talk does not allow for it there is a time to put away the weapons and refuse retribution for the sake of peace but they did that and it got them October 7th.

How many October 7ths do they have to endure before You recognize and take in the full context of what is going on.

I agree Good should stop being punished and evil must be. Was it good being punished on October 7th you know innocent civilians at a music festival. Men women children people who had nothing to do with it international visitors to a music concert.

Were these people secretly evil Will these people secretly bad and deserving of what happened to them?

Again eye for an eye sounds cute and quaint and nice when there is an option for peace but the option for peace had been given and rejected. This is a point you need to tell Hamas not me not the Israelis not those who gave them every fucking chance to join the civilized order. So I'm going to point out that if I for an eye is being applied here it goes not to the Israelis it goes to the Palestinians. And should have gone before October 7th.

As they should as they should considering what they did on October 7th. Because I want you to understand They did that. They did in fact do that They went in and they killed civilians women children and men and they also committed every kind of crime that they could against them torture kidnapping rape there was nothing left off the table for them.

Et tu frater? Et tu?

As I've said before I see things a little bit too clearly because I don't drop context like you do. I don't remove a fact of existence from my consideration. You and this entire spiel have had to ignore October 7th and the context it brings to your argument as I have pointed out.

If you're suddenly worried about antisemitism because of elon musk but you spent the last year and a half harassing Jews and "Zionists" and excusing antisemitism in your own movement, you don't care about antisemitism

I don't trust you. The Jewish community doesn't trust you. You never cared about us, still don't, and you made it very clear

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marvelwitchergilmore · 22 hours ago

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Flatbeds and Ice Cream

Summary: Tyler Owens x fe!Reader -> You have known Tyler for ten years and although your first meeting might not have been the most conventional, neither is the way you finally get together.

Disclaimer: Mostly lovable fluff, hint of angst (if any), mention of bull rider!Tyler, reader is a doctor, subtext of Tyler being an EMT, mention of cuts and bleeding. Reader patched Tyler up, Tyler patches Reader up. Soft kisses. Happy Valentines Day, people! Hope you enjoy this one ❤ Not Proof Read.

It was no secret that Tyler had been pining after you for years. Well, saying that. It was kind of a secret. From you, at least.

But everyone else saw it.

They saw it in the way he looked at you, in the way he spoke to you and how he was around you. He’d never taken anybody star gazing in the meadow he found when he was on his very first tour of Tornado Alley. He’d never sat up and waited for someone to get back from their date, even though he had no need to. And he’d never sat and listened to someone’s instructions when it came to being careful and having someone take care of him.

For as long as you’d known Tyler, he’d always been reckless. Careful, but reckless nonetheless.

The first time you’d met him had been when he’d thrown himself in front of a bull to save your brother.

They were on the circuit together. Whilst Tyler rode them, your brother looked after them. And they were good friends – your brother always talked about Tyler; how skilled he was, how charming he was with the girls and how smart he was, too, despite his head getting stomped on one too many times by a bull.

Your first conversation with Tyler had been in the hospital. Your brother refused to leave his side. You couldn’t blame him. He’d saved his life. But that didn’t stop you from yelling at Tyler when you finally got introduced. Once you’d given your thanks and your brother had left the room for a moment, you yelled at him.

“Go on. I can tell you’re dying to yell at me.”

You didn’t know whether to ask him how he knew or to just start yelling. “Believe me, I am more than grateful for you saving my brother but you are a complete idiot! What the hell were you thinking? Jumping in front of a bull like that?! You know you could have died, too?! You almost did! And what would have happened then? One casualty? Two? You know, that shared idiot of ours tells me a lot about you.”

“He does?”

“Yeah. He tells me you’re skilled at what you do.”

Tyler smiled, feeling pride in his chest. “Thanks-”

“He also says you’re smart. Too smart for just being a bull rider.”

“It’s a noble profession-”

“And it almost got you killed today. Not because you were riding, but because it decided it didn’t want to play anymore and started to fight back. More than just bucking a rider off. You’ve got a brain, Tyler. I suggest you use it before it’s too late.”

Tyler’s reaction stalled for a moment as you hiked your bag a little further up your shoulder before making your way towards the door.

“Hey, hold on.” You paused by the door and looked back at Tyler. “Where do you think you get off with saying something like that to me?”

You sighed. “Tyler, as far as I’m aware, you and my brother are best friends.”

He nodded silently, waiting for an explanation.

“That gives me full right to cuss him out and tell him the exact same thing if it was him in the hospital bed. And since you’re his best friend, it gives me full right to do the same with you.”

That same year, Tyler applied to college.

Four years of education and years of chasing later, Tyler had his own rodeo team and every once in a while, you joined him. For the first few, your brother had joined him until he met a girl from Seattle in the middle of Tornado Alley. After that, he hung up his chasing hat and settled down with a comfortable job in her hometown.

But you stayed on.

“Don’t get hurt,” you called out over the radio as Dexter pulled into the side of the road and parked.

“I promise.” Tyler’s voice rang back.

And then they were off again. Like with every chase and every storm the Wrangler’s came across. Off roading, going seventy miles an hour across fields, in between wind turbines or wooden fences and wheat. By the time Tyler came back with the truck it was covered from top to bottom in dirt and wet grass.

As he stepped out of his truck, you took a long look at him. If anyone didn’t know how either of you were with each other, they could have mistaken it for you checking him out. Which you were. But for more reasons than that he just looked like a greek god in a cowboy rodeo heaven.

You were checking to see if he was okay.

“You’re bleeding.”

Tyler laughed, “What?”

Pressing a light finger to the cut on the side of his head, he winced and you showed him. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m bleeding.”

“How did you do it?”

Tyler thought about it for a moment as you both fell into the similar movements of you guiding him away from his truck to sit down on the floor of the van as you grabbed your medical kit. Meanwhile, the others started tidying the equipment up before they’d sit down with you and Tyler in the parking lot.

“There was a gust and the truck door closed. It hit me but I didn’t think it hit that hard.”

He did. He felt it. But he didn’t know it was bleeding.

Standing in between his legs, his fingers deftly fidgeting with the fabric of your trousers, your concentration remained on him and getting the cut cleaned and sealed. You moved his chin with your fingers and his head followed your movements.

“This might sting.”

It did.

He didn’t hide it very well.

“Sorry,” you apologised, blowing a little light air onto it to stop the momentary burning sensation.

Meanwhile, across the lot, Boone was watching both of you.

“Do you think they’ll ever do anything about it?”

Lily turned and looked in his direction. Tyler’s eyes were fixed on you as you took careful consideration with helping fix his cuts.

“Don’t talk about it. I’ve been trying to get them together for years.”

“Man, Tyler is sooo in love with her.”

Lily looked over even though she didn’t need to, to know it was true. Tyler looked at you in a way Lily had never seen a man look at a woman before. There was more than just trust and respect there. There was also something more than just ‘love’. The word ‘love’ seemed too simple for the bond that you and Tyler had.

Maybe ‘soulmates’ or ‘twin flames’ were better descriptions.

She’d seen it between you both since day one of meeting you. She met Tyler maybe a year earlier and they were fast friends but something she picked up on, even before she came to know Tyler as her family, was that Tyler had someone.

He had a connection with someone in his life, unlike any other.

Of course, it wasn’t until she met you that she realised who that was with. The sole reason why no other romantic relationship – no matter how perfect the girl Lily seemed to find – did not work.

She was never you.

And it didn’t take long for confirmation from Tyler considering he couldn’t hide his feelings from his face whenever he looked at you. But he was convinced that you never felt the same because you were like that with everyone.

And he was right. To an extent.

When Lily got pelted with hail that hard it cut her skin, you patched her up. You made her swear to be careful and you patched her up. But you never looked at her like how you looked at Tyler. When Boone did a back-flip and landed wrong, you cussed him for being an idiot and helped patch him up. You never stood in between his legs or looked at him like how you looked at Tyler.

It was all in the subtle differences with how you treated everyone else compared to Tyler.

With Tyler, there was almost something more intimate about the whole thing. Because even when you stood in between Javi’s legs when his sunglasses scared his nose, there was nothing seemingly romantic about the ordeal.

But you and Tyler…

That was something magical.

“Do you think there’s anything we can do to, you know, push it along? They’re killin’ me.”

Lily laughed and Boone helped her up onto the back of the truck. “I’ve got a few ideas but so far they’ve not exactly gone to plan.”

“I say just leave them to it.” Dani said as she rounded the back of the truck. “Best to leave it to fate. When it’s meant to happen, it’ll happen.”

“I agree. If we push them together too soon, it could backfire.”

“They’ve known each other over a decade.” Kate said, leaning onto the flatbed. “How much longer can it be?”

“We could always parent trap them?” Javi offered.

But Lily shook her head. “I tried that but they just figured out a way to get out together.”

Kate looked at her. “So, when I saw them climbing out of the motel storage closet two months ago…that was because of you?”

“Guilty.”

They all looked back to the oblivious couple.

“Maybe it’s just timing.”

Boone sighed. “If they don’t get together soon, we’ve gotta do something about it.”

As they watched the couple, they realised Boone was right.

“Well, what’s the diagnosis, Doc?”

“You should be okay, now.”

Tyler smiled and went to touch his wound. “Thanks, Doc.”

You slapped his hand away and it instantly dropped. “Don’t touch it. And, you’re welcome.”

Tyler watched you for a moment or two. Something seemed off.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, why?”

You looked at him as you packed the rest of the supplies away, but it was only brief. To anyone else, making eye contact when saying a statement like that might actually mean you were ‘fine’. But Tyler didn’t believe it for a second.

He’d known you too long. He knew all of your tells.

“No, you’re not.”

For a moment, your guard dropped and your gaze shot to him. How the hell did he know? You already knew how. It was Tyler. He could read you like a book. When he actually read the secret book on you, you’d never know. All you knew was that you shouldn’t have been shocked that out of everyone, he was the one to notice.

Better yet, he was the one to not ask his question again, but rather tell you the truth you didn’t want to admit to yourself.

“What is it?”

You remained silent, packed up the rest of your things and stepped up and behind him into the van. And he followed suit.

“Y/n, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Ty. I promise.”

Tyler clicked his tongue as he leaned against the small kitchen side. “There you go, breaking rule number two.”

“Rule number two?”

“Never lie.” Tyler told you.

“Since when do we have rules?”

“Uh, since you gave me a set of them ten years ago. This goes both ways, Sweetheart. If I have to live by them, so do you.”

“Well,” you had to think on your feet. “You broke rule number one. Don’t get hurt. Seems we’re even.”

You went to move past him, to run away from the conversation but slightly sticking his arm out, he stopped you. And, feeling his eyes on you, you looked at him.

“Talk to me,” Tyler’s voice was quiet. Soft. Like he was trying not to startle you. “Please.”

If you looked at him any longer, you’d cave. Those green eyes of his always had some kind of magical power over you. So you shook your head and forced yourself to look away.

“It’s nothing.” Then you stepped back a little. “I better go and check on the others.”

Tyler let you go, but he knew the conversation wasn’t over. Something was up and you were hurting. And he needed to find out why.

Tyler’s eyes rarely left you over the next day and a half. You kept your eye on his wound, but when you cleaned it, that’s the only place you looked. You didn’t sneak a look at him like you usually did when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. You barely said two words to him.

He’d asked Dani and Dexter if they knew anything about what had happened to you, but even they didn’t know. They knew you’d been quiet for the last couple of days, but other than that you seemed okay.

It was as the sun started its descent in the sky that you got a knock on your motel door. Everyone had either gone for a nap or a shower, so you didn’t fully know who to expect. But once you opened your door, it was no surprise.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Tyler smiled. “Are you busy?”

You shook your head. “Not really. Why?”

“I’m gonna go for a drive, want to come with me?”

You were silent for a moment, trying to decide between saying ‘yes’ and ‘no’. On one hand, you’d love to join him. On the other, you knew within the first ten minutes of the drive, Tyler would know everything about what you weren’t telling him just by your silence.

Tyler could see the contemplation washing over your face. “Let me rephrase? I’m going for a drive, and I want you to come with me.”

Looking into his eyes, you felt your internal battle melt away.

“We need to talk.”

Internally, you sighed. You couldn’t avoid him forever.

“Let me grab my jacket.”

“I’ll be by the truck.”

Two minutes later, you walked down the metal steps as you zipped up your jacket in the slow breeze that passed through the peaceful silence of the motel. Tyler stood by the passenger door, waiting to open it for you and close it behind you.

Then he rounded the front before he pulled himself into the driver’s seat and peeled out of the lot and headed down the backroads.

Usually, the radio would be playing on some kind of country station and the silence wouldn’t even be noticed between yourself and Tyler. But he wanted to talk. You both needed to talk.

“Where are we headed?”

“Thought we could get some ice cream.”

You smiled. Ever since Boone had mentioned it in the morning, you’d had a craving for it.

After a few more minutes of silence, you plucked up the courage to ask. “So what did you want to talk about?”

Tyler looked at you, back at the road and back to you with a sigh. “Please remember we’re going for ice cream.”

“Okay.”

“And that I’m driving.”

You were getting a little worried.

“Okay?”

“I called your brother.” You just stared at Tyler, waiting for him to continue. “He told me what happened.”

You searched Tyler’s face for any hint of a lie. He’d said that once before, just to get you to admit it outloud to him. He hadn’t called your brother and he hadn’t known what had happened.

But this time he did.

“Tyler…”

“Something was up with you and I knew you weren’t going to tell me. I wasn’t gonna take any chances.”

You sat back in your seat. “You could have just asked me.”

“Would you have told me?”

You were quiet. “Eventually.”

“Y/n,” Tyler sighed. “You spend so much time taking care of everyone else.”

“It’s my job.”

He shook his head. “It’s more than that. You spend so much time making sure everyone else is okay, making sure we’re not hurt or dying or slipping off the edge of the world. You deserve not to get hurt, too.”

“It’s a little late for that.” Your voice seemed like something it never was.

Small.

You didn’t know whether to look out of the window or at your hands. But Tyler brought your gaze back to him anyway by taking hold of your hand from where he sat.

“I know I can’t change what happened, but I’m here if you wanna talk. Or scream. Or cry. Or bitch about it.” That part made you smile and he gave you a light smile in return. “For as long as you need.”

For the first time in a few weeks, you felt normal again for a moment. “Thanks.”

Looking at Tyler, his hand still firmly in yours, you watched as he looked from you, back to the road.

Even when you were younger, you could have watched him forever trying to commit him to memory. Each line and curve of his face, the length of his lashes, the colour of his hair…all of it. You’d looked at the man for just over a decade. Maybe it was some innate fear of losing him, or maybe it was the fact that the first time you met him was when he charged in front of a bull and got flipped into the air like a rag-doll.

But you wanted to make sure he was there.

One thing that you were certain of was that, no matter what, you’d never forget his eyes. The way they bore into your soul unlike anything else. Tyler knew what you were thinking and feeling with one single gaze on your face.

Nobody else could do that.

Nobody.

Just him.

Just Tyler.

Pulling into a semi empty parking lot, Tyler switched off the engine and looked over at you. Then you both made your way inside. Grabbing a basket, you and Tyler stocked up on different flavours of ice cream for both yourself and the others before heading towards the check out.

Finally, once you’d come outside, there were barely any cars in the entire lot but the way the sun was setting, sending a golden hue over everything it touched, made it seem a lot more peaceful than just empty.

“Wanna stay here for a while?”

“Here? Here here?”

Tyler smiled as he lifted the back of his flat bed down and hopped up into it. You tried to deny yourself of the fact that you checked him out as he did so.

“Yes, here. Or have you got somewhere better to be?”

You could hear the smile in his voice.

“What about the ice cream?”

Tyler gave a casual shrug before he lifted it up. “I’ve got a cooler. They’ll keep for a while.”

You looked around you. There was no hurry in getting back. Everyone would probably still be napping.

“Okay then.”

As Tyler dropped the bag into the cooler, he walked over to you and gave you a hand up before you held onto his arm for stability.

“You okay?”

“All good.”

As you sat down, Tyler went back to the cooler and pulled out your chosen flavour of the day, as well as his before handing you a clean spoon from the small side pocket of the cooler.

Then he joined you.

With the sun warm on your bodies, the pair of you sat on the edge of Tyler’s flatbed, your legs swinging free.

“So, what did our shared idiot have to say? Is he and the girls okay?”

Tyler nodded. “Melenie’s on a girls weekend away for her friend’s bachelorette party, so he’s trying to keep the girls busy before they call their mom. He also said that Caroline has now decided she wants to become a vet instead of a princess equestrian horse ballet dancer.”

You smiled with a small laugh.

“And Zoey has taken to teaching her dad how to cook a meal that does not include pasta or cheese.”

You looked at Tyler. “Is that why I got a text asking what a bechamel is?”

Tyler nodded with a small laugh. “She found a recipe for Lasagna to help him dip his toe in the water. She’s just like you, you know.”

“What? Bossy? Stubborn? Too smart for her own good?”

“Clever.”

You looked at Tyler again.

Then he shrugged. “Bossy, too. But clever.”

You smiled, taking the compliment, even if you did roll your eyes at his agreement of you being called ‘bossy’.

A small chuckle escaped you. “She has been running rings around those two for years. I’m expecting Caroline will be doing the same soon enough.”

“Soon enough? She already does! You know, last time I went to see them she had your brother learning how to sow pink sequins onto tu-tu fabric.”

“But he doesn’t know how to use a needle. I’m pretty sure I banned him from using one when he was sixteen and tried to sow his socks back together. It ended up looking like he had webbed feet.”

Tyler laughed. “Well, he’s gotten better at least. I had to give him a helping hand, but by the end of the night she was doing pirouettes around the garden until she got dizzy.”

You smiled. You saw your brother, sister-in-law and nieces as often as you could. You had a facetime call with them at least once a week. Your niece Zoey had even taken to writing your letters since she was practicing to earn her pen license in school.

The conversation flowed from there. From your nieces, to Tyler’s family, to the Wranglers, to work, to the prediction of a few more EF-1s and 2s in the area in the coming days and then back to ice cream.

Until Dani called and asked you and Tyler to pick some food up on your way back from wherever you both were.

“Come on, we better go.”

As you took Tyler’s tub back to the cooler along with your own, he hopped down to the ground and waited for you. And from there, after the initial awkward moment, Tyler reached to your hips before slowly lowering you down until your feet hit the concrete directly in front of him.

For a moment, the world seemed to disappear around you.

Feeling Tyler’s fingers against the waistband of your shorts holding you steady, you felt yourself lean forward. With your eyes trailing up from his chest where your hands had fallen from his shoulders, all the way up to where his eyes moved from the lower half of your face to meet your gaze, a question popped into your mind. Well, a few questions.

Did he feel the same?

Was he…did he want to kiss you, too?

Before you could get your answers, however, Tyler’s phone rang out loud. And the moment seemed to roll away as you and Tyler realised what was happening and stepped away from each other.

“It’s…it’s Dexter.”

You nodded and stepped away. “I’ll wait in the truck.”

As Tyler watched you walk away, looking back at him every once in a while, he cursed himself for leaving his phone on loud.

Looking down at the contact, he swiped to answer and scuffed his boots on the concrete as he cleared his throat. “Yeah?”

“Hey, Ty. Uh, I’m picking up a reading.”

Sitting in the truck, you looked at your reflection. The heat you could feel on your cheeks was clearly writing across your face. You could only pray Tyler thought it was from the sun and not from the twister of butterflies inside of you.

From the rearview mirror, you watched him scurry around, grabbing a pen and a scrap piece of paper to scribble something down. Then he hung up and rushed towards the driver’s seat.

“Is everything okay?”

“Get your seatbelt on.” Tyler told you as he pulled his own on and started the truck up.

“Ty, what’s going on-”

“Dexter’s picked up some cells. We’re twenty minutes away. Fifteen if we hurry.”

The noise of his engine seemed to get louder until it joined in with the sound of the incoming sirens.

You could both see it in the distance, gathering more track as it got closer. First it ripped through a baseball park for the kids, then the field and park beside it before heading towards the markets in the town.

“The shelters are all full!”

You looked around you, as did Tyler. “The bar! They’ll have a cellar!”

The wind continued to pick up around you both, everyone’s voice becoming silent in comparison to the chaos around you all.

Then you saw one of the tents take flight.

“Tyler!”

He couldn’t hear you.

“Tyler!”

He heard you as you forced yourself closer, but before he could react, you pulled him down just before the tent swooped lower and took your both out. Rolling along the ground, the tent cover ripped away and went sailing through the air and down the street along with the metal stand.

“Are you okay?”

Tyler was above you, checking you over. But you just nodded and your attention turned towards the end of the street.

“We need to get inside.”

With Tyler’s help, you stood up and pulled yourself into the bar before he closed the door and directed you towards the cellar. As the door to the cellar closed behind you, a sharp pain came to the side of your head.

“Come on, down here. We’ll be safe here.”

Tyler slotted you between the wall and himself, his arms wrapping around you securely. Every now and again, people let out small screams. More so when the tornado ripped through the town and battered against the cellar door.

You gripped onto Tyler’s arm and clothes a little tighter, burying your head into his chest. Then you felt his arm reach from your back to your head, holding you against him, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

Slowly, the wind disappeared and the battering of the door came to a stop. The only noises that could be heard in the cellar were people’s gasps and heavy breathing as they looked around as the swinging headlamp above them.

“Do you think it’s over?”

“Maybe.”

Tyler looked up and helped you up from where you stood. The stinging on your head seemed to get worse as you stood up and the blurry image of Tyler reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean square of fabric.

You hissed.

“Sorry. Just keep pressure. You’re bleeding.”

For a moment you tried to look at it then realised you couldn’t.

“I’ve got a med kit in my truck. Hopefully it’s still there.”

Eventually, you all got back outside. Boone, Dani and Kate appeared from across the street, a sea of people behind them.

“Can you hold down the fort?” Tyler asked Lily. “I want to make sure Y/n’s okay.”

“Yeah, ‘course. We’ve got her med kit with us if you don’t have yours.”

Tyler nodded and thanked her before moving back to the sidewalk, his hand coming to your shoulder. “Come on, let's go and patch you up.”

Finding Tyler’s truck, he slotted the back of the flatbed down and lifted you onto the back.

“I’m gonna grab my kit. It’s on the backseat.”

You just nodded, keeping the eye closest to the cut shut. Tyler disappeared for a moment but once he was back in front of you, he was a little less blurry.

“Okay, let me take a look at this.”

“Are you okay?”

Tyler laughed a little as he examined your wound. “You’re the one bleeding here, Sweetheart. It’s my turn to take care of you.”

“I don’t know how I feel about that.”

Tyler chuckled. “Well,” he examined the wound further before reaching for the cotton swabs and cleaning solution. “It’s either me or another paramedic-”

“You.”

Tyler smiled. “Glad to know I’m a fan favourite.”

Then with a small warning, he started to clean the cut on your head. You hissed, lifting your hand to his other arm.

“Sorry, I’ll be finished soon. I promise.” Tyler said as his thumb gently rubbed your cheek as it rested in his hand.

“It’s okay. I trust you.”

Tyler smiled a little. “Am I still a fan favourite?”

The stinging settled and you moved back towards him and the cotton swab. “More than a favourite, but I might be biassed.”

You seemed to have shocked yourself but Tyler didn’t seem to react. Too much, at least. Maybe he hadn’t heard you.

With little tape pieces, Tyler pinched your cut together before laying them across it.

“What’s the diagnosis, Doc?”

Tyler smiled, “I’m keeping my eye on you, but you should live.”

“Ah,” you smiled. “The three little words every woman wants to hear.”

For a moment, it looked like Tyler was going to say something but then he turned back to his med bag. “We should probably head back. See if anyone needs our help.”

“You’re right.”

And you both did exactly that.

The night sky had fully settled across the town by the time you and Tyler started helping out. And by the time you all got back to the motel, the moon was at its peak. Everyone headed for bed the moment you all got back.

Except for you.

Twenty minutes later, you stepped out of the shower for the second time that day, your hair wrapped in a towel as you got dressed into a spare set of clean clothes.

Then there was a familiar knock on your door as you flipped your head over and pulled the towel from around your hair.

“It’s open, Ty!”

“How did you know it was me?”

You gave him a tired smile. “I know your knock. Is everything okay?”

“I wanted to check on you.” He lifted his med bag from beside him. You nodded and he shut the door behind him before he walked across the carpet floor and sat beside you on your bed.

With his fingers gently holding your head, he examined your wound. “How are you feeling?”

“The dizziness is gone and I can see you clearly again, so that’s something.”

Tyler smiled.

“I am a doctor, Tyler. I do know what I’m doing.”

“I know.” Tyler nodded. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t have to check up on you. You deserve to be taken care of, too.”

You smiled and gave him a quiet, “Thank you.”

“Well, it seems clean.”

“I did just have a shower.”

Tyler chuckled, a light blush spreading across his cheeks. “Right. Well, you look okay. I mean, you always look okay. Beautiful, actually. But-”

“Ty.”

“What I mean is- it’s just that- your wound looks okay.” Tyler finally looked at you calmly again, his hand coming to your wound to let his thumb brush the wet strands of your hair away from it.

“You always look beautiful.”

You felt yourself lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment until you heard his voice. Then your eyes met his.

But no phone rang this time.

No knock came to the door.

Neither of you were trying to avoid the other.

As his hand slipped through the strands of your hair, your hand reached out for his arm and you moved closer. Finally, his lips met yours in a tender kiss. It was soft then…searching. His hand that you’d reach for pulled you closer until he held you flush against him, your own hands reaching for his side as well as his jaw.

With the kiss floating to an end, you felt Tyler’s nose nuzzle against yours, your eyes still closed as his forehead came to touch yours.

Then you finally opened your eyes when you felt Tyler pull away for a moment. He was looking at you, that ridiculously endearing smile on his face as he looked at you and once again brushed the hair from your face.

Then you felt yourself giggle.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing. It’s nothing…just…I never thought this would happen.”

“Are you glad it did?” Tyler felt his heart trying to prepare itself for the worst.

But you smiled. “I am…are you?”

Tyler felt a wave of relief wash over him. “If you only knew how long I’d been thinking about it…”

“Is that a yes?”

Tyler nodded. “That’s a yes.”

“So…if I asked you to kiss me again, would you say yes?”

“Yes.” Tyler leaned closer. “I’d say ‘yes’.”

Kissing you once again, your fate was tied with Tyler. A day where Tyler didn’t kiss you good morning, good night or just for no reason at all would never come into being.

61 notes · View notes

lillaydee · 3 days ago

Text

Naiveté - "911, What's Your Emergency?"

Joel Miller (AU) / F Reader

A frantic call to 911.

Inspired by @jolapeno's epistolary dear-uary challenge.

WARNINGS: Angst, Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel is a Fucking Idiot. Joel is a Clueless Idiot

Divider by the fabulous @saradika

@kirsteng42

WORD COUNT: 3510

MASTER LIST

2. My Pompous Sister-Cousin Ruined My Life

***I am not a doctor or anyone who works in emergency services or healthcare. Also, there might be some exaggeration to Lynn's status as a doctor. Please take any inaccuracies with a ladle of salt***

You sipped the God-knows-how-many-th cup of coffee you’ve had for the day, rubbing your neck while you were at it. The couch in your office, while extremely comfy to sit on, wasn’t exactly comfy for long-term sleeping, but you just couldn’t go home.

Eric told you Nell was still living there. She was still using your food delivery account, buying herself the fanciest meals she could get delivered, if the account history and charges were to be believed. Her car must’ve run out of gas if she hadn’t gone out at all, living the life in your perfectly decorated guest room and it’s 16-inches orthopaedic king sized mattress and 10,000 count sheets. Your bills were on autopay, so you could just see her lounging around your house doing nothing, watching all the shows available that you yourself never had the time to watch and using the wi-fi you paid for.

You, on the other hand, sulked like a spineless child and ate cafeteria food, slept and showered in your office, watching whatever soap of the day the other doctors insisted on watching in the lounge.

It’s your own fault. You shouldn’t have left, it was your house after all. But you knew if you had asked her to leave, drama would follow. And it’s your birthday. And you were supposed to celebrate it with Joel. You were looking forward to this. But of course, the words ‘other people’ did not exist in Nell’s list of vocabulary. She would just turn this whole thing around and play victim. You’ve known her all your life. You knew.

You just couldn’t anymore. Joel begged you to stay, stormed into your house after you decided to just leave. You couldn’t stay. You would kill that bitch and make it look like an accident. The smug look on her face as she turned to see your devastated one was too much. So much that even Joel’s pleas couldn’t soothe you. He was explaining everything even as you were packing, telling you she kissed him, that he didn’t kiss her back, heard the contents of the email you sent in to Aunt Prue, that he’s in love with you, only you, it’d always been you, he’s sorry he didn’t have the balls to tell you, but he had never been interested in Nell, only you. You were the only one in his mind. He was weak, he didn’t know how to say no when Nell asked for his help, when Nell asked for his company. He didn’t think she was going after him, he thought she just needed a shoulder to cry on, what with her divorce and all. “Please, Lynn, forgive me. I’m sorry, please don’t leave like this. Let’s talk, let’s go out to dinner. It’s your birthday, please, I’m begging you, please don’t go.”

You stayed calm, got your suitcase and left. Joel followed you all the way to your car, hung on to your door and kept on pleading. You only managed to shut the door when you finally told him you needed some space. Please give it to you. That’s all you asked for. He released your door then, looking defeated, nodding slowly, asking you if he could text you, just so you know he’ll never stop trying? You don’t have to reply, he said, he just needed you to know how he felt. Please?

You nodded and shut the door. You went to the hospital and hadn’t been home in three weeks.

Joel texted you every day.

Joel: ‘Good morning. Have a great day. Please take good care of yourself today.’

Joel: ‘Had lunch at the place you liked today, thinking of you.’

Joel: ‘Good night. I hope you get some rest.’

Joel: ‘Sarah made the French Toast you taught her. Reminded me of you.’

Mundane, sweet texts. You didn’t reply, but each and every one of his texts made you smile.

Sarah’s texts, on the other hand, left you no doubt that she was Team Lynn. You did reply to her but still refused to tell her where you were staying and went silent when she probed. Other than that, she’s basically Nell Watch, with the occasional Sarah question.

SareBear: ‘That woman tried to ask me to come over for a movie. I said no. Then she asked Dad if he wants to go for a walk. Dad found his spine and shut the door in her face. So proud of him!’

SareBear: ‘Lynn, what’s an Omphalocele? I googled but they might as well have explained it in Chinese. Help!’

SareBear: ‘I made French Toast today, used your recipe. Dad ate it and cried.’

SareBear: ‘You should change your password to that app – she just ordered steak.’

SareBear: ‘She just sat in front of our house for hours waiting for Dad to come home. Turned on the waterworks when he got here. He came inside and shut the door. She stayed there until midnight. God I hope she didn’t pee herself on our porch. I don’t want to scrub that.’

SareBear: ‘OMG she just posted on that Dot site. She completely changed the story. Imma call her out.’

SareBear: ‘People are bashing her. This is a good day.’

SareBear: ‘Lynn, people I’ve never met are asking for Dad’s phone number. You should come back soon before I cave and give it to them.’

You laughed out loud at that last one.

SareBear: ‘Hey Lynn, will you come to dinner with us tonight? Uncle Tommy and Aunt Maria are in town. Dad is taking a long weekend, we’re getting him cake. Aunt Maria and I are going to have a girls day Saturday, will you join us, please?’

You wanted to say yes. You so badly wanted to say yes.

You missed her. You missed him. You missed them together. But there were demons in your head fighting each other. One told you to go home and kick Nell out. The other though… that one, in your opinion the eviller of the two, reminded you of the times she hugged you as you slept when you missed your parents those first few weeks you moved in with her. The time you two made camp under the blanket, telling each other scary stories and snuggled together so the ghosts couldn’t get to you. The time both of you slept under the bed because you were terrified of thunderstorms. The time she pushed your bullies back, defended you from the mean kids at school. Before she started secretly hating you.

And of course, there was the fact that her parents were your parents, for all intents and purposes. They were the ones who raised and supported you, cheered you on. The ones who literally blocked their own daughter for the way she treated you and Eric. Nell didn’t even tell them she filed for divorce. And you, being the usual ‘not wanting her to get in trouble’ type, never told them. Eric did, apparently, and now she’s in the doghouse with almost everyone in her life. She had nothing, and you didn’t have the heart to turn her away. Or maybe, you were just that naïve. Even after all these years.

You wanted to go back to Joel. He told you he was in love with you. What you wouldn’t do to tell him you loved him too, but Nell was still around. You didn’t even want to think of what she was willing to do if you and Joel actually got together now.

So instead of replying to Sarah, you texted Joel.

You: ‘Happy 36th neighbour. Hope you have a great one today.’

Your phone pinged less than a minute later.

Joel: ‘I miss you.’

You stared at those three words, your eyes prickling with tears, as the three dots kept dotting underneath it.

Joel: ‘Sorry, I know I agreed to give you space. But I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I had to tell you. I can’t wait for you to come home. I miss seeing you laugh, hearing your voice, seeing your face, the way you scrunch your face when you ignore the movie to pick the popcorns with the most caramel on it, the way you save the pickles off your burger for last, the way you separate the M&Ms by colour… I miss that, even if it means I have to wait ages to have an M&M, but I miss everything about you. I miss you. Please come back soon.’

You read that message over and over and over. Fuck, you missed him. You wanted to go home. How can you get Nell out? Maybe you can ask Head Nurse Marcy. Her husband was a cop. Maybe you could arrange something? You lost track of how long you sat there, just reading that text over and over, desperately missing him too.

The phone beeped, the pager beep. The one you set for the hospital. You immediately clicked on it.

‘Incoming. ER. 15F. PAT. AmbBay 2’

You got on your feet and ran towards the ER. 15 year old girl. Penetrating abdominal trauma. God, she’s Sarah’s age. No matter how long you’ve been doing this job, children getting injured from such incidents never failed to shock you. Who would stab children?

The nurses gowned and gloved you, and you waited with the trauma team at Ambulance Bay 2, the siren already coming in fast. You were front and centre when the door opened.

And a frantic, teary Joel greeted you, but he didn’t see you. He didn’t see anyone but the patient whose hand he was holding. Your eyes went straight to the gurney and your heart dropped to your feet.

Sarah.

You had never reacted faster in your life. Anything outside of Sarah was a blur to you. You worked with the other doctors and nurses, stabilizing her, only realizing Joel was standing alone outside the trauma room when she was being wheeled out to the OT. He looked like a lost boy, a lone figure in a busy ER, covered in his daughter’s blood, his eyes glassy as if he was in a trance.

This was no time for soft hearts and yearning.

“Joel!” you called him, speaking as loud as you can without screaming. His eyes immediately snapped towards you, looking as if he had just realized you had been there the whole time. You beckoned him with your head, telling the nurses he’s with you. His feet immediately followed, a sliver of hope filling his eyes. You updated him of Sarah’s condition as best as you could, telling him she needed surgery, and that someone will update him every hour. He could only nod, words failed him, only able to tell Sarah he will be right there waiting for her.

“Lynn,” he said, his voice soft, pleading.

You looked at him.

“Take care of my little girl. Bring her back to me. Please,” the last word whispered.

You wanted so much to hug him, give him assurance. But you knew you shouldn’t. So you turned away from him and told your intern to call your assistant to help him get a change of clothes and something to eat before going in to prepare for the surgery.

Joel sat in the waiting room with his head in his hands. The whole evening had been surreal. He had gotten home early, picked up Tommy and Maria from the airport, the couple insisting they fly in for his birthday, they were going to dinner that evening, maybe have a cookout that weekend if the weather was not too cold, Maria and Sarah excited to spend some girlie time together. Sarah had been wondering out loud if you might join them, seeing as it was his birthday, maybe you would come back today? He wanted to kick himself, thinking about how you might have been there to celebrate his birthday with him for the first time as his girlfriend had he not been too stupid to see how manipulative Nell was.

He had screamed at her that evening. He couldn’t believe the gall of that woman. He couldn’t get the smug look she had on her face out of his head – she had literally sneered at you as you backed out of your driveway, sidling up to him as he walked back to his front door, ready to receive an earful from a very shocked Sarah who was standing helplessly in front of it. Nell dared wrap her arm around his, and he lost it on her. His chest hurt from screaming so much, his throat raw, telling Nell there was no way in hell or any such universe he would ever consider being with her. Her face went chalk white, devoid of any blood, before it went beet red just as quickly, asking him why he wanted you so badly? What was it that you had that she didn’t. What was so special about you? You were nowhere near as attractive as she was.

Nell was fuming, thinking about all those men she thought she had won over – none of them wanted to stay with her, losing interest the moment sex was over. That was all she did really, offered them sex. You didn’t, the prude that you were. You believed in that stupid connection thing. As if. Men are not that complicated. Offer them sex and they will cave. There was no way any of them would have really gone for you, right? You didn’t stand a chance. And yet, here Joel stood, red in the face, telling her to stay away from him.

“Because, Nell, on your best day, you are not even a tenth of the woman that she is.”

He went inside and threw himself onto his couch, rubbing his face, his heart beating uncomfortably fast. He opened his eyes when he heard the door click shut. Sarah was standing over him, arms crossed, looking impressed.

“Wow,” she said, “You can stand up for yourself.” She sat down next to him, snuggling him. “You okay, Dad?”

He hugged her with all his might, nodding, feeling as if he had let her down. The teenager took it upon herself to cheer him up, and made him some boxed mac and cheese, chewing with her mouth open to make him laugh. She even watched some kung fu movie he had always wanted to watch, falling asleep somewhere near the 15 minutes mark.

He didn’t know what he had done in his past life to deserve a daughter like her. Somehow, he managed to breeze by these 15 years pretending to be a parent, when really, it was her who had been taking care of him. She told him that Nell posted on some online forum, telling people that she and him were a secret couple, painting you as the baddie who had always taken everything from her. She had been googling silly medical stuff to ask you about, just so you would reply to her, and then reading them to him, just so he could have a piece of something that was from you, just so that he could smile. She read your witty replies, making him laugh, sleeping easier that night simply from the thought that he heard a joke from you that day. She made him that French Toast you taught her to make, going so far as using the spare key to your place to steal some of that good vanilla you used whenever you made them.

He burst into tears upon taking the first bite, missing you so much, regretting his naivety so much he couldn’t breathe. And what did his little girl do? She sat with him and cut the toast into small pieces, feeding them to him, telling him they won’t taste as good when they went cold.

He had just finished a load of laundry when he received the birthday text from you, his heart soaring. He couldn’t help himself. He texted you back, his fingers shockingly efficient, telling you how much he missed you. He had just clicked ‘send’ when he heard raised voices outside.

Sarah had been getting into gardening lately and was trying to do as much of it while the weather was still alright. He peeked through the window to see Nell shouting at her, something about a comment she made on her post, how Sarah had openly humiliated her, blaming her for the fact that she had been cut off from everyone. Sarah wouldn’t back down, and Joel could see Nell was getting more and more agitated. Joel turned to put a shirt on when he heard a scuffle, immediately yelling for Tommy to come downstairs. By the time he got to Sarah, his BabyGirl was already down, blood blooming on her shirt, the three pronged thing next to her, covered in blood. Nell was gunning it down the street, Tommy chasing her, along with some neighbours who saw the whole thing take place. Joel immediately dialled 911, falling down on his knees trying to calm his daughter down, his heart beating in his mouth.

The minutes crawled by. Tommy and Maria arrived not long after she was wheeled into surgery, bringing him his clothes and whatever would help from home. Your assistant, a sweet young man called Tony brought him food, making sure he was alright, even waited for news from you with him, sitting at one corner of the room with his iPad, managing your schedule, not that he could eat right now. His insides were churning, his eyes leaking. Your young intern, the one who brought him to your private office so he could shower and change, had been coming to him every hour with updates, telling him how Sarah was doing, not that it was helping. All he longed for was to see you come out with a smile on your face, telling him that his BabyGirl was going to be alright, that he didn’t have to arrange for a… that Sarah, his BabyGirl, was alive, and would stay alive. Please.

He told the cops what he knew, Tommy filling in every now and again. His head wasn’t working. He couldn’t concentrate. Sarah. She was all he could think about.

About six hours in, Tommy and Maria suddenly stood up, as did Tony, placing his iPad on the coffee table in front of him. Joel found himself frozen as he watched a tired looking you stand just outside of the double glass doors, talking to another doctor, looking at something on the tablet he was holding. He couldn’t stand up. His mind was trying to decipher your expressions, were you sad? Happy? Nonchalant? What?

His heart almost stopped when he saw a frown on your face as you talked to the doctor, looking worried as you explained something to him. It stopped completely when the doctor’s hopeful expression turned dour, slowly nodding, as you patted him on his arm and walked inside, that same sad expression on your face. Your eyes went immediately to Tony’s, who looked rather sad now, too.

Oh God. No. No. No.

You took a deep breath, and turned to him, looking straight into his eyes.

You smiled.

Joel burst into tears, his shoulders heaving from his sobs, relieved to see that smile. You immediately went to him, kneeling in front of him, hugging him so tightly, whispering to him.

“Surgery went well, she’s still in recovery, but she’s responding very well. Tony’s gonna take you to her room, okay? You’ll be more comfortable there. Barring any complications, she’ll be back home and bossing you around in no time at all.”

Joel’s sobs turned into laughter, nodding his head, loosening the hug a bit to thank you before engulfing you in a bigger, tighter one, thank yous falling from his lips over and over. He didn’t let go all the way until his sobs calmed down.

Tony cleared his throat.

“Joel,” you whispered, as you felt his hug relaxed, but showing no signs of release.

“Hmm?” he answered, somehow managing to do so in a whisper too.

“I just spent 6 hours standing, the kneeling is killing my knees and my back. Can I go back to standing now?”

He laughed, letting you go, standing up and helping you stand. You stretched your back and repeated what you told him to a very confused Maria and Tommy, giving them hugs as well.

“Tony’s gonna take you to her room now, they’ll bring her in soon. I have to go see to another patient, but I will come and check on Sarah in a bit okay?”

Joel watched as you walked out. His heart felt 1000 times lighter. His BabyGirl was going to be alright, she made it through surgery. And he just saw you again and hugged you for so long he felt as if all the essence that left his body as he watched you drive away that night, the rest of which got sucked out as he watched his daughter almost bleed to death today, came whooshing back into his body.

He could breathe again.

Joel woke up in the semi darkened room. You were just about to walk away, having placed a blanket over his body. You stopped when you felt his hand around your wrist.

“Hi.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s 4 am.”

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I’m on call.”

He sat up, rubbing his eyes, looking up at you. He patted the seat next to him, eyes begging you to sit down.

“How is she doing?”

“We’re very optimistic. All the numbers are where it should be. She’s stable. We just need to watch her for a few days.”

“Thank you for saving her.”

“I’m just one person. A whole team of us was in there.”

“Still, thank you.”

You smiled.

“I miss seeing you smile.”

You took his hand in yours, intending to soothe him. He let you, lacing his fingers with yours.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so dumb. I just didn’t see what she was doing.”

You huffed a small laugh, “No man has.”

He didn’t say anything, regret clear on his features. “She’s still out there.”

“They’ll get her. She’s never been street savvy. She might surrender just because she’s hungry.”

He let out a laugh, forgetting to whisper, before shushing himself. He caressed your hand with his thumb.

“Did you mean what you said?” you warily asked.

“Which of my grovelling these past three weeks are you referring to?”

You giggled, which caused him to giggle, the two of you giddy like high school girls for quite a while before you finally managed to say something.

“That thing you said that night, when I was packing.” You didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want to hope. What if it was just something he said out of desperation? Out of panic?

“That I’m in love with you?”

You nodded, not looking him in the eyes. He lifted your face with his fingers, gentle, subtle. “Look at me, Lynn,” he whispered. He waited until your eyes met his before speaking.

“Yes. I meant every word. I’m in love with you, Dr Ava Lynn Williams, I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you.”

You scrunched your face in disgust. “That day you moved in? I hadn’t showered or slept in 36 hours, I must’ve looked like a zombie. Smelled like one too.”

He smiled, “The sexiest, most beautiful zombie in the world. I almost dropped Sarah’s fish. I would’ve been in a lot of trouble had that happened.”

You raised your eyebrows in agreement. He smiled, nodding with you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged, “Look at you. Your office is bigger than my first house. You have little doctors running around doing your bidding, you have a personal assistant, who, by the way, treated my so well today I might as well be the CEO or something. I offhandedly mentioned coffee to Tommy and it was hand delivered to me within minutes.”

You laughed, “I’ll make sure he gets a raise then.”

He smiled, “You’re a kick-ass surgeon. I’m a contractor. Sarah’s Mom left us because I couldn’t give her the fancy life she wanted. I didn’t know if you would even look twice at someone like me.”

He hung his head, playing with your hand.

“Someone like you? Someone kind? Funny? Reliable? A great father? A good friend? A great listener? Which of these great qualities are you referring too? And why would someone like you want someone like me? I’m always working. I’m never home. Although, to be honest, I’m working so much more than I need to be because I don’t like coming home to an empty house.”

It’s your turn to hang your head, playing with his hand.

“They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. This past year, I’ve missed you every time you were not home. I’m in love with you. I’ll wait for you at home every day for the rest of my life, if you give me a chance.”

You were quiet for a beat, the longest beat in the world for him, his ears filled with the beating of his own heart.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

His heart soared. His smiled so widely his ears hurt. He leaned in, taking your chin between his fingers, his eyes closing.

You beeper went off.

‘Code Blue. 1403.’

“I have to go,” you said, jumping up, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before running out, joining the line of running nurses outside Sarah’s room.

“You’re gonna have to get used to that now that you guys are dating,” Sarah’s voice interrupted his high from your acceptance of his love. He jumped up, eager to give his daughter a careful hug.

His world felt complete.

Nell was arrested early the next day. She never left the neighbourhood, apparently, coming back home after spending the night in someone’s garage. She put up quite a fight, causing a racket, screaming that her heart surgeon doctor husband was going to sue the police department and everyone who commented on the post she made. Word was, there were footage of that going around the internet.

She was denied bail and was expected to spend a considerable amount of her life behind bars. As far as you knew, no one went to visit her, save for her parents, who came out disappointed. She spent the entire time they were there blaming them for everything that went wrong in her life.

Sarah went home seven days later, the whole neighbourhood there to welcome her home. You spent the entirety of her hospital stay at the hospital, sending in a cleaning crew to your house after seeing the state Nell left it in after living there without your presence for three weeks. After Sarah was settled in for the night, you helped them clean up and took your leave. Joel walked you home, hands in his pocket as you unlocked your front door with your new set of keys. He leaned in and kissed you on the cheek, the standard practice thus far, seeing as you were literally at work since accepting his proposal at being a couple.

Except this time you were no longer at work.

So you turned your head and captured his lips, earning you a desperate whimper from him, his hands quickly coming up to cup your face. Your lips parted in pleasant surprise, and he took advantage of that, slipping his tongue against yours. Your head was buzzing, your body alight, a helpless moan escaping you as he gently pushed you against your front door, the kiss turning heated in no time.

“It’s okay guys, Uncle Tommy and Aunt Maria’s got me,” Sarah’s voice cheekily broke the silence of the night from her bedroom window.

“Yep, don’t worry brother, I’m going to lock up now,” Tommy answered.

And with that, your hand grabbed blindly behind you, desperately finding the door knob as his kisses travelled from your lips to your jaw, sucking your earlobe, his hands slipping under your shirt to grab your waist, lifting you into his arms as the door opened, carrying you inside, kicking the door closed behind him.

FIN.

#joel miller x you #jo's dear-uary #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #oopps i dont know what happened there.

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