#i hope u are well. this just made my entire week why r u so cute.

[zirconika]

I would love if you could write a fluffy negan x fem!reader one shot, there is genuinely not enough!!! I can’t think of any prompts tho I’m sorry 😭 but if you’re not able to write it then it’s all good🫶🏻

déjà vu

⇚ NAVIGATION || MASTERLIST

PAIRING: Negan Smith x Fem!Grimes!Reader WORDS: 3.6k SUMMARY: Being in charge of guarding Negan’s cell has given you plenty of opportunities to spend time with him against your will, but you unexpectedly end up bonding with him. Which is why nothing could have prepared you for finding out that you’ve met before and how. (Reader is Rick’s sister) WARNINGS: fluff, blood … idk what to say just read it!!!  SETTING: post-negan alexandria A/N: oh my god nonnie u r absolutely correct i just checked there’s a concerning shortage in negan fluff so ask and you shall receive!!! ps im nawt sure what u had in mind so i hope this works 

You hated Negan. End of story.

“Why do I have to be the one to do all this?” you’d complain to yourself every time you were handed the food you’d have to deliver to his cell. But you knew why. Your grief and your injury made you a liability than an asset out in the field, thus you found yourself assigned to something worse than desk duty—Negan duty.

The day your brother presumably died, you were so close to reaching him. Just a couple more steps ahead of you and you could have saved him…

But upon the explosion of the bridge had you skidding away, having you hit your head down on the harsh surface of the ground, blood spilling from under the back of your head as well as your broken leg… It had gotten blurry, but it happened nonetheless.

You were bedridden for a week, and you hated it—being left all alone to bear the weight of your grief. The communities were in shambles, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to lead just like your brother did.

When you got better, the ‘council’ refused to let you out, assigning you instead to managing the damned prisoner you had never once bothered to visit for any reason ever since he got locked up.

Now, there you were everyday, feeding the sick bastard canned tuna for breakfast. 

“Where’s the other guy?” he had asked you on the first day you stopped by. Without a word, you gave him his plate, only to sit down across from him, your arms crossed. 

“Doesn’t matter, I’m just doing my job.”

“Goddamn,” he said, that grin of his spirited as ever. Fuck this guy. You started to think of ways you could poison his meals without anyone knowing. “They gave you the fun work from home job? Not cool!”

The first time you met Negan was when he came by Alexandria. You weren’t there when the line-up happened, but it changed Rick. You’d never seen your brother so lost, disconnected from himself and everyone.

He didn’t eat the first meal you brought him, or the second, not even the third.

For a while, it was just like that—you glaring at him while he talked all about… Well, Negan talked about everything. He never seemed to shut up. At least when you were around. When you got better, you began going out again to go on supply runs and when you returned to fulfill your tasks of distributing his food, you also began to notice the change in him.

“Took you long enough,” he said. This time, he really took the time to dig in. “How was the outside? Fun?”

“It was alright,” you said. You’d been against holding a conversation with him, having carried the anger you thought your brother deserved to harness against him. But you’d been feeling so alone the entire time, you decided talking wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. “Found a box of canned goods, so that’s that. Good thing I don’t have any assholes taking half of whatever I got.”

“Ha ha,” Negan deadpanned as he continued eating. “I was worried you’d never show up. Been meaning to finally talk to someone.”

“What, you don’t blabber your ass off to any of the guys who’ve visited you?”

“Hell no,” he responded, looking at you as if what you just suggested was the worst thing in the world. 

Racking your mind on why on Earth would this dipshit find you entertaining to talk to despite you not holding any form of conversation throughout your entire time together last time, you decided there was only one possible reason. “You think I’m easy to crack.”

“No, are you crazy?” He looked up at you with a grin on his face as he ate his meal from his seat. “You just seem like the listener type. A lot of you Grimes do.”

You wanted to ask what he meant by that, but you kept your mouth shut. You let him talk his ass off until he finished his food before you wordlessly took his plate. 

As you were about to leave the room, he called out to you. “This gonna be a regular thing?”

“I hope not,” you said as you stepped out and closed the door behind you, with no intention of making this your daily routine. 

Except it eventually did. You don’t know how it happened, but it just did, and you let it. At one point, you started bringing him the food you cooked for yourself, asking him if it was good.

“Are you kidding me?” Negan said in between chews of the spaghetti you made. “I’d go as damn far as saying you might’ve beaten me in my own game.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned, parallel to what he’d replied to you on the first day of your routine. “You’re just trying to get me to open your gate for you.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s the thing that just tickles ma balls.”

“Fucker,” you laughed.

You brought him all sorts of dishes you tried to cook. You would’ve asked Carol for help, but years after Rick’s death, everyone maintained a sort of distance from each other. It didn’t help that the Kingdom was hours away, and if you brought any of the food you made, it would’ve been rotten by the time you got there thanks to the heat.

It surprised you how easy it was to talk to him. Some days, you’d forget he was even a prisoner, but more of your friend. Then you’d remember everything he’s done and you’d become distant at times. Negan never commented on it, but he noticed it.

Michonne wanted to ask about why you were making food suitable for two people, but even she felt the gap between the two of you. You loved Michonne, but there was definitely a rift there somewhere.

The only time you’d hang out was when you were at the dinner table with her and the kids, and even then the two of you would only talk about whatever it was the kids wanted to talk about.

You were more close to Judith. For one, she was also fun to talk to. 

You and Negan had that preference in common—talking to Judith Grimes.

It was thanks to Judith you found out about something. After reading to her in bed, you noticed she seemed to still be wide awake. “What, you’re not sleepy yet?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you,” she said, seemingly scared of something. You wondered if Negan had threatened her, that maybe his kindness towards you was in preparation for something sinister.

“Tell me what?”

Judith beckoned you to come closer. You oblige. To your surprise, your niece leaned into your ear to whisper, “Someone has a crush on you!”

You had a feeling who she was referring to. “Who?”

Judith backed away, sinking into her blanket. “I can’t say!”

“Well, what did this someone say?”

“I can’t tell you! Goodnight, Auntie!” And then Judith covered her blanket over her head, guilty about what she’d said. Could it be?

“You’re really not gonna tell me?” you teased your niece. But you knew that once Judith’s made up her mind, that was it. You watched as the blanket shifted left and right out of Judith shaking her head. “Alright, then. Good night, baby.”

Alas, you weren’t able to have your questions answered when you found out about Negan escaping. 

You couldn’t find the words to describe how you were feeling, because it felt wrong to admit you even did feel anything. Maybe he was just using me so I wouldn’t notice his plans to escape… Did he always have plans to escape? Did he get out because of me?

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When he returned, he looked forward to seeing you again. While waiting, he fidgeted with his fingers. Negan Smith was a man of boastful performances; he always knew how to exude confidence in any situation. Coming back into his cell, he was so sure he’d have a fun time slipping back to your old routine together.

His heart almost leapt out of his throat when the door opened for the second time. The first time, he thought it was you, but he just got a whole lecture about everything. 

It bored him to death. He’d returned. There was nothing for him out there, and even if there was… It didn’t matter anymore.

You had to ignore the familiarity in what he called you…

“Hey, gorgeous. Missed me?” He excitedly watched as you came in, his friendly grin faltering when he realized you came in with the food he was originally given during his first few years of imprisonment.

Canned tuna.

“What, no new meal you want me to test today?” he asked, albeit nervously. To Negan’s dismay, his confidence was wavering. “Hellooo?”

Instead of sitting or standing right next to his cell, you sat at the spot you’d taken on the first day. You crossed your arms. 

“Oh, you’re pissed.”

You stared at him coldly. It bothered him, really. He’d gotten so used to seeing you with a warm, friendly smile on your face. He thought he’d have the luxury of seeing it again as soon as he returned.

Instead, he was met by your cold script, “Finish your meal.”

Negan began to strategize, thinking of how he wanted his play to be. In an attempt to reclaim his confidence, he decided to play the stubborn card, saying, “Nope.”

But you weren’t in the mood to play. “Alright, then don’t eat.”

“Fine,” he challenged.

But you weren’t the kind to back down either. “Fine.”

You were curious to know the story behind that subtle flash of recognition in his face that disappeared as soon as it came. It piqued your interest, as you recall having this conversation a long time ago… 

Deja vu, you thought to yourself.

To your surprise, Negan shook his head. “Jeez, just got goosebumps. Got deja vu there for a minute, it’s insane.”

Though you were intent on maintaining distance from the prisoner, you couldn’t help but ask. It surely was easy to talk to the guy, you had to give him that. “You felt that, too?”

“Felt what?”

“Deja vu,” you clarified. Negan watched as you stood up to approach his cell. “Like it happened before.”

“Is it just me, or are we literally doing some batshit telepathy right now?” Negan jokes. “Makes me think it’s a soulmate thing.”

“It’s not a soulmate thing.” You wrap your fingers around a bar of his cell, contemplating where you might have had that conversation. The first time you met Negan, you felt as if his voice was familiar. 

You searched the deepest crevices of your mind, trying to recall a time in your life when you might have possibly met the prisoner. One look at him and you knew he was doing the same.

Nothing came to mind. 

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Except for one. Holy shit. He wasn’t sure, but a part of him felt like it was yanking something out from a library in his mind.

He set it aside for now. He wanted to talk to you first, properly. “[Y/N], this is gonna be a strange request but… Could you come in?”

“What?” you ask, snapping out from your focus. “Why would I do that?”

“Just get in the damn cell.”

“How do I know you won’t trick me just so you could slip out?”

His face screwed up into a frown. “Because I’m not even gonna try. I came back; I chose to. Because of you.”

“What?” you ask again, lost more than ever. It felt wrong that you were expecting something. This was Negan.

The same Negan who…

You shook your head. And you don’t know what force of nature propelled you to be stupid, but you oblige with his request. You sat down next to him on his cot in his cell.

Your backs were to the wall. It felt comfortable somehow. You eyed the stack of books he’d sped through reading whenever he was alone.

Negan set the plate of canned tuna aside, putting his hands on his lap. “You know why I came back?”

“Because you’re an idiot?”

The prisoner laughed, and an unsaid guilt clawed at you from the back of your mind, saying whatever this was… It was wrong. But with Negan, you never felt like you were alone. Which is why it sucked when he left.

“No, stupid. Because there was nothing for me out there.”

“What makes you think there’s something for you here?”

He looked at you this time, his eyes free of the malice you were used to seeing constantly present. “You.”

You had to scoff. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” He thought back to all the times you’d sat right next to him with bars separating the two of you. How he’d never felt so welcomed except for in your presence. 

How he waited for you to visit him. How he was constantly excited for the next time you’d come. How he’d get frustrated whenever it was someone else who’d open the door.

“Thought I was done for,” he confessed. “Until you came and I… I told myself I’d make amends with you out of respect for your brother and your nephew, bless their souls. Then you started visiting me by routine. I knew it was your job, but I never felt like I was behind bars whenever I was with you.”

You didn’t know what to say. 

“It means I like you, if you didn’t get that.” He nudged your elbow, looking at you as if he were already expecting you to turn him down. “I just wanted to tell you so you’d understand.”

“I like you, too,” you blurted out.

This time, Negan was the one who couldn’t seem to find the right words to say, much less at least even any words at all. 

“Rick dying like that… It changed me. Changed everyone, really. Nothing was ever the same and I couldn’t do anything about it. I felt alone, and I’m grateful you were there when I grieved. It just… Feels wrong to feel this way about you.”

Negan nodded. “I get it.”

You felt his hand on top of yours, rubbing it. He didn’t even realize he’d done it, but he left your hand alone when he noticed he did. You wish he didn’t. 

But you had to be brave. Shamelessly, you grabbed his hand in yours, lacing your fingers with his. Negan let you. “You suck at this game, asshole.”

And the two of you froze. He knew where he knew you from, and so did you.

“Ho-ly shit,” Negan started. “Are you GorgeousArsenal777?”

It all made sense now. Holy shit, indeed. “You’re SaviorNutsack69?”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Way before the apocalypse, Negan had made it his personal mission to destroy every single child XBOX Games. First was Gears of War. 

But he decided he wanted more than just a game with a co-op campaign mode. He needed to obliterate opponents in a ranked multiplayer combat game. It wasn’t that he hated them, he just needed a win…

He found a guaranteed win when he matched with MrPuddingCyborg. It was an easy win, really. It was very clear that whoever was behind that avatar was a newbie, thus it was easy for Negan to rank up.

“Fuckin’ loser,” he said, turning on his mic. “I bet you picked that username ‘cause you thought it was cool, didn’t you! It isn’t!” 

“Your technique sucks!” a little boy on the other end said, furious.

“Pants pisser,” Negan said one last time before beginning the game. “Are you shittin’ your pants now? What’re you gonna do, tell your mom?”

The growling on the other end stopped, meaning the kid turned off his mic. Negan scoffed, sensing victory from miles away. “What a fucking crybaby.”

Looking for the same benefits of winning, he requested a rematch. MrPuddingCyborg accepted. Negan leaned back, knowing it was gonna be a cake walk when—

You were killed by MrPuddingCyborg.

What?

Negan’s avatar respawned, but his tactic was used against him.

You were killed by MrPuddingCyborg.

You were killed by MrPuddingCyborg.

You were killed by MrPuddingCyborg.

It went on like that for a while until the two words he most dreaded to find on the screen flashed before him: GAME OVER.

Game over? No way. 

Negan ended their match, frustrated to find that his failure jeopardized his progress in getting up to a higher rank. 

Affected by his loss, Negan kept playing with two different players before finally getting to the third player.

Negan grinned to himself, gripping his controller with the drive to defeat everyone, but for now, GorgeousArsenal777 would be the one to get the heat.

To his delight, he got the first win. He exclaimed with a mischievous laugh. “Haha! One for Virginia!”

But that was just it.

Negan watched in horror as the player obliterated him in every round. He could already imagine his rank getting lower and lower…

He turned on his microphone. “The fuck’s that about? Are you trolling me right now?”

“Troll you for what? Coins you don’t have?,” taunted a girl on the other end as they waited for the intermission time to finish so they could leave the lobby and play another round. “Checked your account, saw you’ve been here for half a year and you’re still in a mid-tier rank. News flash, you suck at this game, asshole.”

“Game on, Gorgeous.”

“Suck my nutsack,” said the voice on the other end. Somewhere almost ten hours away south of Virginia, you clutched your nephew’s controller with a burning desire to destroy the gaming career of this fucker who pissed off your nephew. 

Negan watched in poorly disguised horror as the words notified him of his losses on the screen.

You were killed by GorgeousArsenal777.

You were killed by GorgeousArsenal777.

You were killed by GorgeousArsenal777.

“Listen here, Gorgeous,” he started. Whatever relaxation Negan had was gone. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, concentrating more than ever. “I am gonna make you regret that you ever got a console.”

You snorted. “I’d like to see you try.”

Negan was dead serious. “Fine.”

“Fine,” you fired back. And just in time, you sent a bomb his way, killing him for another time.

You killed SaviorNutsack69.

While you waited for the next round in the lobby, you and your nephew watched as SaviorNutsack69 approached your avatar. The two of you couldn’t help but snicker as he did.

His mic turned on again. “You’re a cheat.”

You resisted calling him a virgin seeing that he came from Virginia, acknowledging the presence of your eleven year old nephew sitting right behind you with his legs crossed, giggling.

“I could’ve beaten this guy,” Carl said with a laugh.

“I know, pumpkin.” You gave the kid a warm smile before turning back to the screen, eager to destroy this man further. “But guys like SaviorNutsack69 deserve to be obliterated.”

You turned your mic back on. “Not my fault you suck. Look at your avatar, dipshit.”

You and Carl snickered on your end, giggling.

The guy on the other end laughed mirthlessly. “I do not appreciate you talking ass about my Limited Edition skin.”

“Sorry you’re not more appreciative,” you quipped, resisting the urge to laugh out loud. “And sorry you can’t rock a leather jacket like I can.”

Negan hated leather jackets, thought it was too hot. He preferred those loose zip-up hoodies. But was not gonna tell GorgeousArsenal777 on the off chance that she uses it as substance to say he just couldn’t pull it off.

“I can so rock a leather jacket, shitface.” 

“Oh, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” And then he left the lobby before the game could start. You and your nephew burst out laughing at the thought of the dude getting a leather jacket.

He was nothing to the two of you three minutes later, because you let Carl play with his account after that. But SaviorNutsack69? He was not the type to back down from a fight even long after it had ended.

700 miles from Georgia, SaviorNutsack69 got up from his chair and drove to the mall. He ran into the edgiest store he could find with purpose and unapologetically purchased the coolest leather jacket he could find.

And the rest is history.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The two of you sat there in silence, the thought of having met before all of this…

It was refreshing—the prospect of destiny. Or maybe it was just a coincidence. Either way, it made you an ounce closer to him. 

He grinned. Negan thought back to the leather jacket he abandoned before returning. “Hey, you’re the genius behind my look.”

“Guess I am,” you mused.

Your shoulder brushed against his, and you could have sworn there was electricity there somewhere.

“Feels like a rocky start to a love story, huh?” he asked, looking at you expectantly.

“You think this is a love story?” you asked him nervously.

Negan thought about it for a second, grinning. “I don’t know, do you?”

“Well,” you started. You paused before standing up and leaving his cell. Before leaving, you looked back at him with a smile. “We’ll see.”

“See what?” Negan stood up, holding the bars of his cell only to realize that it wasn’t locked.

“If you’re as bad on garden duty as you are on Call of Duty,” you taunted him with the same spirit you had from all those years ago. “Maybe then I’ll consider if it’s a love story.”

And that was it. You liked Negan, but that was just the beginning of a whole new story. You just knew you were lucky enough to have gotten the chance to meet again.

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[ask-serendipity-sky]

"I cannot for the love of the gods come up with a theory on why Jk is ok with getting all this nice promo while Jimin got nothing". How about u try to change your solo perspective that makes u look at jimin like a victim all the time? Jimin GOT promotions, and a big one, money related. He had 2 mv that took a lot of budget and preparations: the 2 mv needed sets to be created, and SMFPT2 set was HUGE. He promoted at korean music shows, which too took a lot of money to build those giant sets. Yes, he did have a short promotion period, for reasons we dont know but my guess is that Suga needed to do his comeback because of the tour and i hate the person who came up with those dates but ok... We all know Face promotions got some biiiig problems and im still mad about it, we just dont know what really happened, but i'm sure jimin would fight back if he thought he was being mistreated. But to say that jm got zero promotions... nah

Face, Like Crazy and Seven r different projects, with different visions and different goals. Jimin wanted to tell his story of when he was going through a hard time, and he wanted to do it in korean, promoting more in Korea, with songs that, in the end, only him and people close to him know the meaning. Yet, he did AMAZING and made history (is still making). It seems to me that the #1 on hot100 was unexpected to the company and even jm, but yet they did provided to us 2 versions of Like Crazy, one of them being an eng. ver, and promoted at Jimmy Fallon... So maybe they still hoped that the song would do well internationally? (pdogg tho... he just KNEW face would be massive and destroy kpop). But Jungkook... i think that, for a long time now, he aims to achieve western recognition, way more than jm, and thats ok. So Seven obviously is a song to the US market, and all of us know that. The song is in english, is very pop, written and produced by an american guy that is responsable to other huge hits. It is made to be stuck in our heads, not to make us think about deep things. It is breaking and will break so many records just like LC, but the difference is that the success is THE GOAL (remember all of that Scooter posts on his ig?). Jimin wanted to tell his truth with Face, Jk wants to be closer to being a big pop star with Seven. So, of course Seven would get a different type of promotion.

And btw, just because the song is doing really good and is aiming to the US market, doesnt mean it is by having deals and paying for playing. Its the Jeon Jungkook, of BTS, we are talking about. Jk seems very happy and jimin seems happy for him. I dont think jimin would support jk if he thought he was doing wrong. He didnt post anything, but he did not post about L&R and Dreamers too. He supported jk with Dreamers by posting about his presentation at Qatar, and now he supported seven by going all the way to NYC to be with him.

All of this to say: Jimin is not a victim, he is a badass and he knows how to stand up for himself. When will you come out as a solo, btw? its getting old...

Hi anon,

When will you try thinking for once instead of being a parrot and writing what you've read in other blogs?

Your entire ask is wrong. I don't even know where to start.

YOU sound like a jjk solo or delusional jikooker or Jk biased jikooker.

But you know what? Call me a solo. I don't mind. Anyone who ever defends Jimin or loves Jimin is always called a solo. Why? Because no body else defends him or loves him like solos do. So, sure. Call me a solo.

First of all, we are talking about THE Park Jimin. Of BTS. That's who are talking about.

I'm done with people who, somehow for some delusional reason, think Jimin is inferior to Jungkook. You know nothing about Jimin if you think this.

I've NEVER said that Jimin got 0 promotions. I've been screaming (into the void, apparently) that Jimin only got 9 days of promo that were too hard on his body and had to wear it kt tape for weeks after. I've been screaming that the company is sabotaging him and it's true. People who actually know things about the company know this quite well too.

Take a look at everything and the sabotage is obvious. But look let's start here:

This same guy posts on DC gallery:

Yes, Jimin's promo costs money. But so did everyone's. How much do you think payola costs? That's much pricier than what Jimin's promo costs. And either way, Jimin was a return investment.

Not only did Jimin's place on the charts affect Hybe. It also affected other companies.

And right now the stock at Hybe at decreasing and foreign shareholders are selling to make it seem like Jk's position on the chart will have a bigger impact than it actually will:

Just watch.

You are proving me right with everything else:

So sure, let's sacrifice Jimin's promo time for Suga even though Suga was the one that postponed his album because it wasn't ready.

Jimin had 2 mvs. Suga had how many? And he had a whole tour too.

Jimin didn't have any visualizers. Jk had how many?

Jimin had 5 versions of Like Crazy. Jk has how many?

Jimin's Like Crazy cd was never stocked. Jk's has been stocked how many times?

You think Jimin doesn't want international recognition? Like Crazy was released in ENGLISH for a purpose.

After Jimin's no.1, if they wanted Like Crazy to succeed in the US market, they would have at least sent it to radio. This would have avoided freefall. They would have also shipped albums on time. They would have also informed us of the rule change for online sales instead of waiting until Suga's album was coming out.

It was the fans that were begging radio to play Like Crazy and the only way to play it was from the mv on YouTube:

There are so many things they could have done differently. They can still do them but they choose not to.

Did you see what was trending today?

Did you trend this, anon? Since you are so "mad about this"?

You think FACE wasn't created with success in mind? Pdogg came out and said it would break kpop because Pdogg knew what masterpiece FACE is.

You don't have to think deep with Like Crazy or any of the song...um just listen to them?

And don't be daft about Seven:

And other things. Search "Seven payola" on twitter and you will find it.

So yeah. You are wrong.

If you don't see it, that's because you choose to not see it.

Stop pretending that you "are still mad about it". You don't care about Jimin and only want him for your stupid ship and for him to be Jk's cheerleader.

Ah and he went to NYC for a work thing and to support Jungkook. But he hasn't posted a single thing about Seven. He did post about Dreamers and Left and Right. But no Seven.

You think Jimin only wanted those close to him to listen to his music and know the meaning? He spent 10 months working on this album, hours practicing choreography, dieting, for stupid fans like you to say things like these?

I don't even want to see when he releases new music, appears in stuff with Jungkook, or leaves for military service. All these fake fans will be crying and uwuing when they couldn't lift a finger for him during all this.

To those that try to send others on guilt trips because we defend Jimin or point out the injustices: Are you guys even streaming Seven and Like Crazy to "support them equally"?

At least taekookers have taekook playlists and streaming parties for Jk and Tae. I haven't seen a single playlist around here that has both Jk and Jimin. But yeah, you all are supporters of jikook.

You all come and try to send me on a guilt trip but you all are worse than me. For reals.

You don't deserve Jimin. You and all the people who keep saying all this bullshit because it fits their stupid theories and shipping fantasies don't deserve him.

Jimin deserves so much more than this.

So just stop. Don't come to my blog.

[lqfiles]

🐣🐣🐣 anon hereeeee. ok??? why’s haechan so cocky i hate him 🙄🙄😒😒 who does he think he is… (he’s hot) i liked the chapter a lot btw i love all your smaus (two i think) ☹️☹️ sometimes i search for a smau and js find really ugly ones (no offense i truly mean no offense with this) while yours are js so… accurate to the real app? like for imessages and twitter they look EXACTLY like the app itself

ok enough, yesterday i was about to fall asleep and i asked myself whether or not, after how popular stg got, did u choose the title to ptp thinking of what “abbreviation” (idk if thats the right word in english) people would use with it? like whether it would sound good or not?

i hope you’re doing great again and having a fun or light week. if you find yourself in a position of struggle, a break is always a good idea. be mindful of your own worth and make sure to not let people make you feel less than what you deserve 😠 take care and be healthy, goza de salud y amor!

about my ppt and test… i can say that thursday and friday were the worst ones. on thursday i have 5 classes, from which i did 4 “tests” (idk how to say it in english but i mean 4 different ways to give me a grade), PE saved me that day. at friday i was supposed to have 3 classes and 3 “tests”, but my personal bff (art teacher) gave us one more week to deliver the project so yay, i did ok in my spanish test and the history ppt was ass.

ok i got a little mad here sorry for the rambling

i had to speak on the URSS’ economy during and after WW2 but my other classmates took 3/4 of the whole class for their own fun presentations so i had to keep my part going after bell rang :( ugh i was so stressed and i messed up and made a weird noise like “eek” and the whole class laughed… that was embarrassing. also we use canva for presentations like these and my friend (A) kept telling me that my completely normal slide was ugly and that she would change it, i told her not to and she kept insulting me… my other friend (M) defended me tho. then the next morning my other friend (R) changed the ENTIRE presentation —not just my slides— and my best friend (J) got mad at her and protested (which is something i cant do cause im a little shy or ashamed to stand out for myself), but R yelled at her and insulted the way her slides looked, J changed her tone but wasn’t screaming, at this point i didn’t gaf anymore but i got mad at the fact that R was disrespecting J, so i screamed a little too hard at R scolding her for not being able to defend herself without screaming… i think i made her feel bad bc all of my friends stayed quiet after that :( im struggling cause at some point she kinda deserved it for being so rude, but at the same time maybe i got too carried away ☹️

but i did well on most of my “tests” this week! i like to think it was all thanks to you and your good wishes :)

do you ever get strokes reading my messages? im sorry if u do… i get nervous when sending u asks :( i swear im better at english than u may think… also i think i talked way too much im sorry if it bothers u, dont feel obligated to answer 💗💗💗🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

- love, 🐣 anon ! <3

ps: i think this is my longest ask yet… maybe longer than the first one i sent u about how much i loved stg? the long ass one……… idk! i hope u have fun reading my beef ig…….. love ya!

you might think i’m lying but truly, that’s not what crossed my mind while coming up with the title loll. i knew that i wanted a witty title that related to the story and the genre of the story just like stg was, and the whole concept of ptp is that y/n moves to a cheaper apartment where she can pay the rent while also having to deal with haechan. pay the price = LITERALLY pay the price of her apartment but ALSO paying the price that is having haechan disturb her peace, pretty witty right? it was honestly just a coincidence that it ended up being three words as well as having a nice abbreviation lmao

he’s hot and i he will be hotter in the future too unfortunately. thank you for liking it so far tho as well as my other smaus (literally only stg) ALSO I FEEL YOU ON THAT PART tbh i’m so accustomed to the social maker twitter lay out and messages that whenever i see another format it catches me off guard lmao, but people are just using what they can, and it’s the story that counts in the end i guess.

you’re always so cute i can’t help but smile :)) i’m doing good and i have a two week holiday soon so i’m even more happy, i would never let anyone make me feel less than i am, but if i ever do i’ll remember your words!!!

THAT SOUNDS LIKE ACTUAL HELL omg exam season is so stressful, i hope you don’t feel too much under pressure 😭 i’m happy your art teacher gave you guys extra time for your work, MAKE SURE TO USE YOUR TIME WISELY IM SERIOUSSS you don’t wanna give your worst and face the consequences!! and i’ll even personally pray for you ^^ YOU GOT THIS LOVELYYY and im glad you did well on your others :)

what the fuckkk :(( first off all, that’s such an unfortunate situation to be put in, your classmates are immature as hell for that but i wouldn’t believe that they were laughing at you, perhaps it was just the awkwardness but i’m sure it wasn’t meant to belittle you, still, that’s mean and immature as hell. your supposed friends need to learn how to respect you because if you told them that you didn’t want your slides changed, there really shouldn’t be an issue with that like wtf why would she insult you as a response.. weird. i personally don’t think you’re in the wrong, clearly friend R thought they could boss you guys around and was seeking issues for no reason, all that WHILE being mad for some reason like no need to raise your voice. i hope you’re okay :( don’t think about it too much you’re amazing and i’m sure you’re slide was fine ^^ i have used canva before too and it’s not like you can make the most outstanding slides on there anyways so WHO CARESSSS

whenever i see your asks i just smile because your words are always so sincere and it’s the fact that you go out of your way to type it all even if english isn’t technically your first language, NO STROKES DONT WORRY! i would feel shitty if i didn’t respond to you, i would always respond don’t worry ^^ this was long but i don’t mind, again it’s really cute YOURE SO CUTE ANON

[rawrmeansilyindinosawr]

MY LAPTOP IS BROKEN

i yam typing this from my macbook i got from a stranger on offerup who told meh to meet him at Astoria "outside the station n tht it would b easy to 1dentify them cuz he would b wearing a orange Jumpsuit" like some HAUTE prison couture shit. he Had a thicc new yorker accent n treated it lik a drug deal, he kept looking over his shoulder n sped off once u gave him the monies. LIL DID U KNO the mf macbook would have SPANISH ACCENTS ON IT but it would work perf fine except now the shift button or camera dont work Cuz after this gala, u n one of ur best fwendz were cuddling with alcohol on tha bed and spilled it on the dam thing. u just got told yr jobs closing down cuz they gettin sued and u can't join zoom calls via camera but u just hope for tha best cuz ny unemployment takes 5evvaaa. y kant i just b a rockstar? like hot n paid for it?? Being a rockstar gf is not in tha cards for me anymore tho.

42nd st smells like star anise and herbs ur Dad would brew into tea and ur just trying to get to pacific trimming .. U pass by ur old sugar daddys warehouse n U give urself a ol lil chuckle cuz Ya rly did pull dat shit. Randos at tha store wanna take pix with u n ur still shy n flattered n find it hard to associate with the person on camera vs person in tha mirror, am I tha only one who feels this cognitive / bodily dissonance. ??.?

i curated this list thinkin ab the musician i met lastlast winter who wanted to show me his music, i said sure, n he played me his entire album on his guitar for just a little over an hour while telling me he could order us "the worst coke he's ever done in his life which includes suicidal ideation during the come down.' he apologized profusely afterwards n gave mediocre head. Yes , we have matched on tinder 3 more times. why do i keep swiping rite u ask. Trust me all my toxic traits are still unbenognst to me myself Ni, ok.

one good thing ab living in nyc is that when u need to cry on the subway, no one cares, No one asks u why u have bandages on ur wrists And no one asks if Yr ok after they shove ya real hard cuz they prob need 2 get somewhere real soon . I think i've learned to enjoy tha silence n the weight of what new yorkers rly mean when U catch them staring then they look down rite away. I think it means that they're showing respect tht u most likely wanna be left alone. It's an unspoken code .Band aids fall off the ankles of beautiful women, no one asks to give them tha extra one in their bag. Subway performers, singing their hearts out n expressing themselves so raw and well r ignored. i dont own headphones anymore so i Kan pay attention. i think it means something 2 show someone u listen.

WELL.

...U may hav fallen on a strangers lap on tha C train this week Cuz ur new rock platforms made ya SLIP n SLIDE but ur reminded Ur not the only fucked up one in tha head cuz a few months ago someone sat on ur lap thinking u were a got dam seat too. Subway vibes.

H3AVen was S000 fun in tha CLOUDS w bali bby n Lust sick puppie dancing on stage with yr friends n letting them wear ur pink n glittery tiara just like lindsey Lohan in mean gurls. [these days i rly wish i wuz like regina george. but just the part when she gets hit by a bus.] speaking of lindsey lohan. I SAW THEM ON A PLANET FITNESS COMMERCIAL WHILE STREAMING MI SAD LIL PEEP MIX. likeWTF. tht wuz kinda lit. TIL NXT WEEK MAYB fwendz. ty 4 reading ;3

[kiyuomi]

[swinterr]

fic rec vii ♡

hi!

this is a another new set of fic rec and i’ll probably do a compilation of genre (?) just like the first ones.

read and support the fic and authors here: the fic rec ♡

made some changes like tidying up a bit and adding summary, for those that doesn’t have any summary i’ll try my best to add my own summary (it will probably be shit tho, i ain’t making a smut summary guys, i’m not confident in my describing a fic ability but i’ll try my best. if its in italic it means i made the summary hehez )  if the summary is shit, i made it okay.

a for angst

f for fluff

s for smut

// for series or list

kpop oc/s

1. jane by @baejiyeonz

2. bee by @purpleyellow

3. lian by @nct-lian

4. taehui by @jeontaehui

nct

sungchan

1. [10:47 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

haechan

1. [5:21] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

2. you’re warm by @dreamystuffers | f

- a drunk hyuck can only mean a clingy hyuck.

3. you’re short too by @pastelsicheng | f

- 5 times hyuck teases u for ur height.

4. no title by @heychan | s 

- dirty thought cockwarming haechan and johnny comes in to the room while you are trying to hide it but haechan doesn’t care.

5. wishes by @lucaswithnoshirt | a f

- standing on stage is everything you’ve dreamed of. except in the time it’s taken you to get there, you’ve been dreaming about other things, too.

jaehyun

1. moving in: the series by @jaehyun-ified | f

- after agreeing to move-in with jaehyun, you decided to curate a little series on your channel to both give in to your viewer’s request to have jaehyun frequently on your contents and to document your moving in process with the love of you life.

2. [8:14 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam. 

3. boyfriend by @simpsiren | a 

- a relationship with jaehyun wasn’t always perfect. there wasn’t a definite label on it, which only sent the relationship down a complicated pathway as we tried to find the meaning of our love once again.

4. best part by @okayoongii | f

- don’t know how to describe this tho, just read it. also 10/10

5. can i help you? by @sugarjaee | f s

- when working an extra long shift at work, your boyfriend surprises you with a visit.

6. stages of love by @biletdoux | a f s

- a playlist for the trials and tribulations of a beating heart. 

7. [9:04 am] by @jeongvision | // f

- domestic fluffy blurb. 10/10!!

8. suds by @kim-taehung | s

- first person to move does the dishes for a week. nothing is off-limits.

9. promise by @bvbyxuxi | f a

- jaehyun has loved you since you were both kids, things were going well until he messed everything up; meeting again as young adults, he refuses to let you go again but would you give him another chance?

mark

1. one minus on plus one by @wonjaekook | f a 

- in all of the years you’ve known jungwoo, you should have figured out to not take his words at face value because, though you haven’t even met, mark lee seems to hate your guts. 

2. [12:03] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

3. pretty boy by @epinebleue | f a

- fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, the reader is two years older than mark, jaehyun makes an appearance as the reader’s fuck buddy, use of alcohol and drugs (marijuana), mentions of violence (mark punches someone), smut (protected sex, inexperienced!mark, dry humping).

4. camera flash by @morkleemelon | f

- mark taking a picture but forgot to remove flash waking up oc, pretty fluffy and cute! 10/10!!!

5. retrouvailles by @kireimarkeu | f

- counting down the days until you finally see your long-distance boyfriend.

jungwoo

1. [1:14 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

johnny

1. man-icure by @haejunehui | f

- based on jcc ep. 26

taeyong

1. reverb by @lovingonrepeat | s

- taeyong + studio sex. 

2. unspoken by @bvbyxuxi | f s 

- you had never thought to see taeyong again after your one night stand with him until this year where he takes you by surprise; turns out he wasn’t the guy you sought him out to be after all.

ten

1. [2:32 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

lucas

1. [4:31 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

2. king of hearts by @raibebe | f s a

- a little bit of everything, a chef’s kiss. 

yuta

1. [5:51 pm ] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

doyoung 

1. redamancy by @heavenlyhaechan | f

- this is just so fluffy! i wished to be doyong gf please. 

2. fools together by @yongiefilms | f

- two fools in love with each other? 

3. acedia by @jaeminscoffee | f

- a day in the life of yours and doyoung's love life.

4. our little secret by @haejunehui | f

- read to know their little secret. hehe.

5. caught red handed by @hannie-dul-set | f

- all you wanted to do was take a picture of the handsome law student during your train ride home. you did not expect things to end up like this.

jeno

1. i see red by @0097linersb | s

- pure filth 🥵10/10 tho.

2. addiction by @love-mi | s f

- you and jeno keep your relationship a secret to avoid backlash from your companies and fans; but keeping himself away only makes him want you more.

3. surprise visit by @nakamotonudes | f s

- you hadn’t seen your boyfriend for over a month because of his hectic schedule so when he suddenly shows up at your place one night for a surprise visit, you both have to make every second worth it.

bts

jungkook

1. the pitter-patter of the heart by @koorara | f s a //

- pieces of newlywed domestic moments with jungkook, your husband. the young film and literature lecturer and his wife, you, who works as a journalist of a web magazine. both of you managing the career, the time for each other and the new house. not to forget, chip, the cat that has been with you for years. 

2. please love me by @ahundredtimesover | // f s a 

- as the only unmarried jeon and kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. but despite developing an affection for jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. you’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.

3. first love, last love by @floralseokjin | f s //

- a collection of drabbles following the longterm relationship between jungkook and you... 

4. second chances by @parkhabits | a s

- work. one of the most important things to him. It kept him company at night, it was all he thought about, all he put his attention to. his work had become the mistress within your marriage. years after you left him you’re back with only one goal in mind. get him to sign the damn divorce papers. yet you should’ve known that your husband wouldn’t let you go that easily. 

5. crush by @jungxk | f s 

- jungkook woke up with amnesia (?) he totally forgets that he has a wife and child. and he totally has a huge crush on his wife. 

6. bare necessities by @gguksgalaxy | f s a

- when you ask your boyfriend for a relaxing vacation you don’t exactly expect him to take you to disneyland out of all places. luckily, jungkook knows just how to get you to relax — being needy is definitely not the way. or is it…

7. krampus for christmas by @ddaenysus | f

- when your daughter overhears your nightly activities close to christmas, jungkook takes it upon himself to convince her it was the sounds of the legendary demon goat.

8. a date with destiny by @imjustfanfictrash | f s

- you are a boss lady in the tech industry traveling to world for work. he is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

9. stranded by @gguksgalaxy | f s a

- jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. his entire presence is unwelcome. you don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. it’s annoying — he is annoying. from the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. nope, you definitely can’t stand him.

10. sprout by @v-hope | f

- after a nice evening out with your friends, you find yourself coming home to your sleeping toddler and the new hairstyle she had tried on your husband.

11. friday nights and take-out by @ahundredtimesover | // f s a

- you meet pop star/idol jeon jungkook at the café, you get close, and as hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. but you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

12. jealousy by @ephemeralkookie | f s a

- jungkook’s closest friend, namjoon is getting married and he invited you three to his wedding. the only unexpected thing was jisoo, his ex, and we’ll just say that you were not too happy to see her flirting with your boyfriend right under your nose

13. a quarter past us by @jjiimin | f a

- when you break up with him out of fear of losing your freedom in university, he finds himself showing you why leaving him isn’t the answer. 

14. pretty boy by @angelguk | // f s a

- alternatively known as the jock!jk universe drabbles in vague chronological order. 

15. summer solstice by @boulevardk | s

- down on your luck and desperate for a successful harvest, you pray to the gods. you figure no one in heaven was listening to your prayers when nothing happens immediately. but one fateful night, your prayers are answered. are you willing to pay the price? the sacrifice might not be what you were expecting….

16. lilac wisteria by @blushoseoks | f a 

- over the years, things change - but the one constant is your love for lilac wisterias.…okay, maybe jungkook’s been there too.or, alternatively:the first time jeon jungkook says that he is going to marry you, you are five years old sitting underneath a large wisteria tree.

17. obsessed with your ass by @kooklovesu | f s 

- jungkook has an obsession with your body he cant get enough of praising you. he wasn’t comfy showing the world his affection towards you in public because he’s a private guy, but when he finally did, good luck.

18. from home by @gyukult | // f s a

- jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class?

19. black card by @minsprings | // f s

- black card fic and drabbles, also a chef’s kiss.

20. oh my god, they were (quarantined) roommates by @ot7always | f s

- what do you do when you’re quarantined for months on end with jeon jungkook - s tier cuddler, workout robot, and thirst trap extraordinaire? fuck him, you guess.

21. let the games begin by @venusiangguk | s

- just another fic where oc rides jk in his gaming chair pls still read it tho lmao its hot i promise

22. the probability of us by @jiminrings | f s

- jungkook’s the son of the university’s president, y/n’s cardigan is everyone’s favorite, and adjacent walls mean shared victories. 

23. open when by @iluv-hobi | f

- jungkook likes to write letters to you, especially ones with purposes, like “open when ___”. one day, on a particularly bad day, you open, “open when you’ve had a shitty day”. 

24. good day by @ilikemesometaetaes | f s

- his motive was made quite clear once he called you out of work. he just wanted to spend a nice day with his girlfriend. is that too much to ask for?

25. calculated by @whatifyoulivelikethat | // s 

- some people would call you far too serious. some would call you stuck-up. and some would call you a bitch. but to freshman jeon jungkook, you’re the head calculus I TA noona  – and he’s determined to fuck you.

26. brat taming by @sugasbabiie | s a f

- jungkook has been your roommate for almost a year. since the day he moved in he has acted like nothing but a spoiled little brat who is used to getting anything and anyone he wants. he eats your food, he doesn’t clean, he’s loud, oh and now he has colored his hair the exact shade of blonde as you. He’ll do anything to get under your skin. you’ve had enough of his filthy mouth and his fuckboy ways. it’s time to tame that bratty little roommate of yours. think you can handle it?

27. sugarplum energy by @bymoonchild | f s a

- you know no bounds nor depth with jungkook. while your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on soundcloud. all’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. or, jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

28. ancient history by @moononthejoon | a s f

- there is no way to deny that you and jungkook have chemistry. the two of you used to be a couple, after all. what happens when after a not-so-amicable breakup the two of you are cast as opposite leads of a movie?

29. that’s not daddy by @nochuobsessed | f

- jungkook comes home with a new hair color and his sons can’t tell if he’s appa or not. pretty cute! 10/10

30. no title by @himbojk | s

- jk got a blowie from his oc while on a zoom class meeting, like cam on with a whole set up but his oc under the table sucking the life out of him while he sits and tries to take notes .

31. dilf jk by @himbojk | // s f

- dilf jk drabbles.

32. no title by @himbojk | s

- blond jk with full tattoo sleeve who looks like the baddest boy but is actually baby and just wants a handie in the library while studying with his oc because she aspires to have those high grades. 

33. no title by @noteguk | s

- bf!jungkook going down on the reader while they watch anime.

34. silent treatment by @blu-joons | f

- baby kook asking daddy kook to say sorry to mommy. 10/10 too!

35. getting railed by @dearlytea | s

- getting dicked by your boyfriend during a train ride.

36. the view by @koyamuses | s

- jungkook knows exactly what turns you on; every kink, every dirty fantasy that’s buried deep within your mind. he knows exactly how to make you beg for it.

37. let’s play: dirty by @jungkxook | f s

- on today’s stream, watch as the king of gaming jeon jungkook gets totally pwned by some newbie player on overwatch (he swears he was stream sniped)! to make matters worse, he can’t seem to focus anymore when you’re in the room but he promises that’s not because he’s in love with you or anything. use code ‘jungkook’ on any game purchase through steam at checkout for 25% off so that jungkook has something to feel better about! iloveyou btw!

38. more dilf!jk by @cutechim | s

- oc thirsting over jk, talk about finances, jungwoo is an innocent cock-block as infants are, disrespect towards a major film franchise. 

39. you are inherently beautiful by @ggukachuwu | f a

- when y/n and jungkook accidentally reveal their relationship to the public because she walked in on him doing a vlive and now netizens and kmedia are tearing apart her appearance because y/n is chubby from struggling with pcos. jungkook takes it upon himself to cheer her up because he absolutely adores her.

40. morning with jk by @min-arya | f

- jungkook drabble of him catching his s/o admiring him in the morning with soft sleepy cuddles.

41. even a forest fire dies out by @9uk | a s

- it became from “grab a coffee with me?” to “why should I grab a coffee with you?” too fast for your liking. you had thought the both of you were so in love with each other—only to realise it was only you who had fallen into this trap of feelings. and as for jungkook, he might have just been as confused as you are.

42. all that we had by @starlightauroras-writes | a s

- four years, two months and five days ago, you lost the love of your life with no explanation. living with a failed marriage at such a young age without knowing why was impossibly hard, and when you’re invited to your high school reunion, knowing he would be there, you really don’t want to go. what happens when you do leaves you questioning fate. 

43. aquarium by @whatifyoulivelikethat | // a

- life after jeon jungkook was grey. you had to find your own color, grow your own rainbow. but what would surprise you the most is the appearance of white cosmos, seven of them clutched tightly in kim taehyung’s hand.

44. contentment by @btsqualityy | f s 

- oc’s using jk’s card to buy rug and the rest is history. 10/10!!

45. heartbreaker with a heart of gold by  @filmflowersbangtan | a s

- love this!!! you know i love me some angst! 10/10!!!!!

46. the ikea test by @mercurygguk | f

- you and jeongguk face the IKEA test. successfully? sure!

47. before you universe by @ephemeralkookie | // a f s

- jungkook has taken a huge place in your life after he tattooed you, and you can’t even picture how life was before him. he has always been there for you since day one. but how will things change after you find out you’re pregnant?  

48. christmas cream(pie) by @smoochkooks | s f

-  a day before christmas dinner with your boyfriend’s parents, you discover another alternative way to use the chocolate cream you’re making. jungkook is more than willing to indulge in your little fantasy.

49. last minute by @moononthejoon | f s

- christmas day had gone by, and now you were back home after holidays with your family. your friends had agreed to have a late christmas party, but as always, you and jungkook procrastinated gift buying.

50. you go in knowing bros together by @blu-joons | f

- a cute fluffy knowing at knowing bros moment. 

51. no title by @v-hope | f

- the way y/n would react when someone else flirts with jk and how he’d handle the situation.

52. hair dye by @mercurygguk | f s

- jungkook got his hair dyed while at work. you lose your mind the moment he steps through the door.

53. stay gold by @yeojaa | s

- blond!jk being a good boy?

54. crystal snow by @honeyj00ns | f

- when you join Jungkook and the rest of the guys for some fun in the snow, he can’t help but feel jealous.

55. 6:21 am by @sincerelyourfangirl | f

- in which he makes your morning extra special.

56. plan b by @btsracket | s

- dressing room quickie, unprotected sex request, use of Plan b pill

57. possession by @bngtanah | s

- jungkook is your boyfriend, sometimes you have to remind him what that means.

58. puffs and touches by @mintseesaw | f s

- “Stop doing that with your face, someone else is going to snatch you up”

59. the quiet things by @btsracket | s

- sleeping bag sex.

60. good boy by @ephemeralkookie | s

- secret, read to find out AHAHAHHA.

61. make it right by @jungkxook | a s

- you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

62. it takes two by @junghelioseok | s

- struggling with the idea of your ex-boyfriend moving on, you enlist the help of your quiet roommate in a scheme that quickly spirals out of control.

jimin

1. picking petals by @cutechim | s 

- you asked for a baby, so a baby is what you’re going to get. 

taehyung

1. daddy by @btsracket | f s 

- there’s only one choice when this happens on a date out.

2. love me or we both go down by @gukyi | f s a

- after going through with an arranged marriage to please his parents and secure his inheritance of the family business, kim taehyung thinks he’s got it all figured out. he doesn’t. apparently just being married to you isn’t enough, not when everybody and their mother can pick up on the fact that the two of you absolutely loathe each other. but taehyung wants his inheritance one way or another, so he decides that desperate times call for desperate measures: the two of you need to fall in love, and you need to fall in love fast.

3. saudade by @jiminssthetic | a s f

- a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it’s time to find out why.

4. ineffable by @99liners | f

- boyfriend taehyung takes care of his sick s/o.

5. tease by @caiuscassiuss | s

- you knew you were hot. you saw how the guys looked at you, how their eyes were drawn to a tight t-shirt or short skirt. and maybe this would fail epically—crash and burn like a failed experiment—but you wanted to get under kim taehyung’s skin the only way you knew how.

6. aquarium by @whatifyoulivelikethat | // a

- life after jeon jungkook was grey. you had to find your own color, grow your own rainbow. but what would surprise you the most is the appearance of white cosmos, seven of them clutched tightly in kim taehyung’s hand.

got7

yugyeom

1. yugyeom as you boyfriend by @sunshinekookie | f

- i need more yugyeom fics in my life.

astro

eunwoo

1. rainy say saviour by @imsarahbum | f a

- upon seeing you getting bullied after school for being short, dongmin can’t help but step in and defend you - despite both of you not really knowing anything about each other.

anyway, thank you again for the writers please take care and be safe!

please free to recommend your favorite fic that i haven’t feature yet.

if the links won’t work and i labelled some fics wrong please let me know and i’ll try to fix it as soon as possible!

support the fic and the writers!

[looooooooomis]

F I N A L  G I R L  |  F O U R

You were his final girl.  And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t   f o u r  |  k e y s

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 4.4k warnings: angst, s m u t, some more s m u t, teasing, finger-licking good billy boy, implied/referenced cheating, def not a healthy, functioning relationship (but like eh we persevere), some more s m u t. 

Despite your best efforts, the last few days had been miserable without Billy.

You hadn’t realized just how much of a routine he’d become over the last seven months, how much you’d both come to rely on each other and, fuck, did you miss him. You missed his smell, you missed that small little cheeky grin of his, you missed curling up beside him and feeling him over every inch of your skin. Your body craved for him in an almost primal way but, while you could live with denying your body its needs, it was your heart that hurt the most.

What was supposed to be a quick release for the two of you had never been that easy. You’d been in love with the idiot since freshman year, seen him through his various ups and downs and he’d seen yours, too. Which was precisely what made this entire situation that much harder. Not only were you dealing with your own heartache, but you were witnessing his, too.

Billy’s grief was more or less a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sort of thing. Ever the stoic silent type, you hadn’t expected to see much of what he was feeling splayed out on that handsome face of his, but shocking even you, his regret was palpable. And each and every time those brown eyes met yours, that grief that was as clear as day struck you blind.

You’d tried telling yourself that it was for the best because, in all honesty, it was but that didn’t make the pain go away. Nor did it make you miss him any less. You were trapped in a vicious cycle of missing Billy, sticking to your guns, and worrying about him all at once.

God, you’d really fucked up with this one.

“You sure you’re okay?” Tatum asked, narrowing her eyes at you as you shoved a handful of books into your locker. “You’ve been scatterbrained all week.”

“I’m fine,” you shrugged, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“You tell me,” she leaned her hip against the locker. “Is this about Steve?”

You blinked as the question played on loop in your head. “Steve?” You asked, giving the strawberry blonde your full attention. “First of all, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart: ew. Secondly, huh?”

Tatum smirked. “Don’t play dumb, you’ve been acting all weird since Billy went psycho on his ass last week.”

“No, I haven’t,” you hoped your laugh didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “Also, Steve’s an asshole. If the day ever comes when I am interested in that big oaf, feel free to euthanize me.”

“Promise,” she made a motion of crossing her heart, “but in the meantime, you swear nothing is up?”

“Cross my heart,” you mimicked the gesture and shut your locker. “What are you up to after practice tonight? Want to go see that new Brad Pitt movie?”

Her shoulders fell. “Can’t, Stu’s coming over,” she unwrapped a lollipop and shoved it in her mouth. “I’d say ask Sid, but she got into it with Billy last night so she’s in a mood.”

You tried not to care, you really did, but her words hit you like a freight train. “They did?” You asked, hoping beyond hope that your voice didn’t sound quite as high pitched as it sounded in your head. “What happened?”

“Who knows,” Tatum shrugged, “Billy’s always been a little intense and Sid’s been a little cagey since…well, you know – so, it’s bound to happen.”

You swallowed hard and continued to nod along to Tatum’s words. Were you nodding too frequently? Did you appear too interested all of the sudden? Catching yourself, you focused on the leftover gum on the locker just behind your friend’s head and cleared your throat. “That’s shitty.”

“Relationships,” Tatum waved off, “they’re all pretty shitty sometimes.”

Before you could finish putting your foot in your mouth any further, the third bell rang out signaling your next class. Your most dreaded class: Biology. With a groan you tossed your bag over your shoulder and frowned across at Tatum. “See you at practice?”

With a nod, Tatum took off towards her class as you slowly sauntered towards your own. You were halfway down the hall when you heard a set of heavy footfalls running towards you from behind. Glancing over your shoulder, you barely had time to register Stu’s smiling face before he threw an arm around your shoulders. “How ya doing, pal?”

“Peachy,” you scraped your eyes along his profile and blinked. “If you’re about to play the rule of dutiful henchman for you know who, I’ve got a class to flunk.”

“Harsh,” Stu beamed, “I see why our boy’s so smitten.”

With a roll of your eyes, you glanced around at the people around you and glowered up at him. “Stu,” you warned, “I’m not in the mood for this.”

“For what?” He feigned innocence. “I haven’t said a word.”

“But you want to,” you mused. “And I don’t want to hear it.”

Stu chuckled. “All I was going to say is, like, I get it.”

You shouldn’t have taken his bait. What you should have done was push him off of you and continue on your merry way to class. That would have been the smart thing to do, the responsible thing to do.

Too bad you were neither of those two things.

Roped in, you sighed in defeat. “Get what?”

“I’ll be the first to admit,” he began, “when Bill told me that you and him were…you know, I laughed. I mean, two broads, man? I can barely handle the one how’s he going to deal with two of you?”

“I’m hoping there’s a point coming,” you groused.

“Right,” he laughed again, “my point is that I get it. I get why you two work. Why he’s knee deep in this big fucking mess because of it. You two work.”

“Stu,” you threw your head back and glared at the ceiling. “Stop.”

“What?” He asked. “Am I wrong?”

You gently pushed him away from you and dropped your voice into a whisper. “That’s not the point. He’s with Sid.”

“So?” Stu made a face. “Her mom just died, what do you want him to do? Dump her and break her heart? Her mom just died, that’d callous, man.”

“We’re breaking her heart either way, whether she knows it or not.”

Stu stopped walking and there was a compassion in his stare that left you reeling. For as long as you’d known him, Stu Macher had always been the goof. The reckless, chaotic idiot that seemed to fit just perfectly into your little mish mash of a group. But the sincerity in his blue eyes as the two of you stood in the emptying hallway was a look you’d never seen before.

“And by doing this, you’re breaking yours.” He limply shrugged. “Billy’s, too.”

Your shoulders fell as the weight of Stu’s words sank in. You couldn’t exactly say much in terms of a rebuttal, naturally, because he was right. There were no happy endings for either of you at this point in the charade. Sid had still been lied to and cheated on, Billy was still trapped in a relationship he no longer wished to be in in fear of hurting the girl he once loved and you were stuck in the middle, watching two people you cared for fall to bits while having to remain stoic in fear of showing your hand.

What a fucking mess.

After another minute of silence, Stu wriggled his eyebrows and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. “Just something to think about.”

Taking off down the hall, Stu left you to your own devices as you stood in the middle of an empty hallway with far too much on your mind. In an almost zombie-like trance, you took off in the direction of your biology class, not quite caring that you were about to be marked as tardy for the third time that week. But, before you got to that god-forsaken class, you heard the click of a door not far off before a pair of arms encircled around your middle, yanking you into the nearest classroom. A surprise yelp tore out of your mouth, but the full-fledged scream died in your throat as soon as you realized just who it was who had grabbed you.

“Jesus, Billy, you scared the hell out of me.” You grasped your chest and took in the dark, empty classroom around you. He was still holding you against the nearest wall, you could feel the heat of those large hands through your thin shirt. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Sorry,” despite the desperation in those brown eyes, his voice never wavered. It was still as calm and collected as ever. “I’d go to your house, but it’s been like Fort Knox for the last week or so.”

You chewed on your lip for a moment before averting your eyes to the ground, not quite being able to stomach the weight of his stare just yet. “Billy, unless anything’s changed, I—”

“In case anything’s changed?” He reiterated with raised brows. “Everything’s changed. I miss you, Y/N, more than you can even comprehend. I know I’ve fucked up, I know that, but I need you. The last nine days without being able to really see you or feel you or kiss you or—”

“I get it,” you held your hands up and gently pushed him away. “And it’s been hard on me, too, Billy. But it doesn’t change anything.”

For a few, long, agonizing moments, Billy remained still as a thousand different emotions splayed out across his face. There was anger and grief, sadness and desperation. But the look you got as he dropped to his knees in front of you was pure, unadulterated fear. “I promise you, Y/N, the second I can, when the time is right, Sid and I will be no more. But me and you are it, sweetheart,” his hands gently circled around your hips before embracing you around your middle. “I’m so fucking sorry that this is how it has to be right now. And I’m sorry that I’m too fucking selfish to let this go, but I can’t. I need you. I need us. You’re everything good in my life and I know I need to start proving that to you.”

Still, you remained quiet. Your fingers itched to reach out and run your fingers through that slightly greasy, unruly mop of hair, but instead you kept them pinned down at your side as you considered his words. There was no doubt in your mind that he meant them, the desperation on his face said as much, but you had your reservations. Taking your silence in stride, however, Billy simply reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.

Your heart nearly stopped.

“Oh, jesus,” you grumbled, burying your head in your hands. “You better not be doing what I think you’re fucking doing.”

“Open the box, Y/N.”

“No,” you held your hands up. “Not if it’s…that.”

Billy sighed. The muscle in his cheek twitched. “It’s not a fucking engagement ring.”

Somewhat relieved, you continued to stare down at the box in slight disdain. “So, what is it?”

Billy sighed. “Fucking open it and you’ll see.”

“Buying the ‘other woman’ jewelry, Billy?” You shook your head. “You’re like a walking cliché at this point.”

“Shut-up and open the goddamn box.” Standing up to his full height, he continued to hold the box out towards you and breathed out a quiet laugh when you remained unwavering. “It’s not a fucking bomb, Y/N, open it.”

With a sigh, you snatched the box out of his hand and, rather unceremoniously, opened it up to reveal a key. Not a fancy skeleton key or a charm in the shape of a key but a regular, run of the mill house key. You blinked, mildly surprised. “Okay, I’ll give you a point for creativity with the box,” you pulled the key out and observed it. “But what is it?”

“It’s a key,” Billy said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“I see that,” a small smile pulled at your lips as you looked across at him. “What’s it for?”

“It’s a key to my parents’ cabin.”

If you were meant to understand the significance, the story was lost on you. Looking back down at the key, you surveyed its tiny ridges briefly before nodding. “And what’s that have to do with me?”

He took a step towards you and grabbed the hand still clutching onto the key. “My dad doesn’t go up there much ever since my mother left and I figure we could both use a place where we can just…be.” His raked his thumbnail along your knuckles. “No Sid, no anyone. Just you and me.”

You were trying to remain unfazed by the sentiment, to remain icy and cool to the man you were supposed to be pulling away from, but between the softness in those warm brown eyes and the weight of the key still clutched in your hand, you could feel your defenses waning. “You expect Sid to just not care that you’re disappearing up north every once in a while?”

“I’ll make it work,” he shrugged it off. “And, to be honest, I don’t care what she thinks.”

Your answer came in the form of a long, drawn out sigh. “Billy,” you began, but before you could dive into the rest of your speech, his large hands slid up your arms and neck to cradle your face.

Slowly, he backed you into a nearby desk and traced the apple of your cheek with his thumb. “We can sneak up there whenever we want. Spend a whole weekend up there, just the two of us. I can worship this fucking body of yours in every square inch of that cabin. I can go into town and hold your fucking hand in public. We can do whatever the hell it is we want to do up there, whenever we want, without worrying about any of our idiot friends seeing us.”

Your pulse quickened at the thought of being able to parade around like a normal couple in a town where not a single soul knew who you were. You swallowed, trying to steady your excitement with a dose of realism. “It’s still not fair to Sidney.”

“Fuck Sidney!” Billy’s voice echoed out around the vast, empty classroom, alarming you with just how angry he sounded. His chest heaved with a white-hot rage that you couldn’t fully comprehend, and his jaw was wound shut as his nostrils flared with each and every heavy, uneven breath he took. You swallowed hard and watched the man steady his nerves, unsure of your next move. You’d seen Billy angry before, but that level of emotion was definitely new.

You weren’t sure whether to be terrified or turned on by the sudden outburst.

But, just as quickly as it happened, Billy’s eyes slowly opened to reveal those molasses coloured eyes again. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he appeased. “But I can’t have her stand in the way of this. I won’t.”

You remained silent as you shimmied on top of the desk that had been poking into your ass for the last few seconds and tried not to focus on the way your body seemed to melt into Billy’s as he stepped in between your legs, still looking at you with all the intensity of the world.

“If we do this,” you found yourself muttering, “there’s going to be some ground rules.”

A sense of hope blossomed in Billy’s chest as he vigorously nodded his head. “Anything you want,” sliding his hands up the sides your stomach, he gently held your waist and gave it a small squeeze. “You name it.”

“When we go up to the aforementioned cabin, we go out.” You told him. “While I’m more than happy to blow you in the living room without worrying about your dad walking in, it would be nice to go on an actual fucking date.”

Billy nodded and, with his hands still on your waist, he tried not to focus on the thin cotton of your shirt bunching between his fingers as his thumb danced along your ribcage. There was so little between you in the empty classroom, barely any space as the two of you were practically nose to nose. And between that short little skirt you had on and your pert nipples beneath your thin tank top, it was enough to make his cock twitch inside of his pants. “Anything else?” He asked, his voice husky as he nudged his nose against yours.

“Yeah,” you ran your tongue along your now parched lips as you sat with Billy standing between your thighs, holding you in place as his thumb traced agonizingly close to your tit. Were you even breathing? It didn’t feel like it. You were wet, too, which made his inhumanly close proximity almost too much to bear. “Lock the fucking door this time.”

A roguish grin enveloped his features as he stepped out from between your legs. Crossing the threshold of the classroom in two seconds flat, Billy locked the door and made his way back to you with that same mischievous glimmer in his eye. His eyes were hungry and, as his hands shifted down to your ass, he tugged you even closer to the edge of the desk. Closer to him. With your legs still open and on either side of his hips, you just about died when your clit managed to rub against the zipper of his jeans.

A quiet, low moan tore out of your throat from the sensation.

“Anything else?” He asked, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yeah,” your breathing was ragged as Billy’s slow, methodical fingers, trailed up the side of your stomach. He was being extraordinarily temperate and slow to further tease you but, despite knowing how risky this was, you were putty in his hands. “Touch me.”

His nose brushed against yours again as he shifted his hips just enough for the zipper of his jeans to rub against your clit again. The bastard knew what he was doing.

“This feel good?” He asked as his hips toiled into you again.  

You were practically dry fucking against the desk, you could have been caught any second. But, fuck, when he pulled you in a little more and slowly gyrated his jean-clad pelvis against your clit again, you couldn’t care less. “Mhmm,” you hummed.

Slowly, Billy’s dept fingers slid up from your waist towards your breasts. Raking his thumb against the swollen bud, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the side of your neck.

He knew his jeans were rubbing against your clit and, as he looked down and saw the visible wet patch on your blue thong, he wanted nothing more than to rip them off of you and bury his face in between your legs. “God, I’ve fucking missed you.”

When his hand squeezed your breast, you arched into his grasp. “I bet you did.”

Billy smirked and rolled your nipples between his fingers through the fabric of your shirt. With every roll of your hips, the strap of your shirt slipped down just enough to expose your breast. Without missing a beat, Billy leaned into your chest and allowed his mouth to consume your nipple, swirling his tongue around it expertly before biting down. You hissed as a combination of both pain and pleasure ripped through your body.

Your fingers curled around the hair along the nape of his neck and gave it a firm tug as is hands held you firmly in place. “Fuck, Billy” you moaned, breathless.

He released your nipple slowly, nipping at it one final time before leaning his forehead against yours again. You wanted like hell to close the distance between you. You wanted to feel his lips on yours. Feel the tickle of his stubble along your upper lip and have that expert tongue brush against yours.

But you also wanted to make him sweat a little.  

You weren’t sure what had come over you as you slid your hand down your torso. Maybe it was adrenaline of being caught or the relief of having Billy in your arms again but as you allowed your fingers to dip beneath the hem of your exposed thong, the look on Billy’s face made it all worth it.

“What are you doing?” His Adams apple bobbed up and down as he watched you touch yourself. You were in an awkward angle, but as your finger circled your clit and you watched the bulge in his pants grow, you were coasting high.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” You hummed, feigning innocence. “When I say touch me, I mean it, Billy. I’m taking matters into my own hands.” You pinched your clit and arched your naked chest into him. “Fuck.”

You heard him swear under his breath as his lips ghosted over yours. “You’re doing my head in, woman,” he growled, sliding his fingers beneath your panties. You gasped when his thumb began to circle your clit. And when he slid two fingers inside of you, you nearly saw stars.

His mouth found yours, mid-moan. Reaching the hand that had just been down the waistband of your shorts, you ran your fingers through his hair as his tongue coaxed yours. Everything about this man was electric. His fingers quickened their pace and before you knew it, you were thrusting into his hand. Placing sloppy kisses down from your mouth and along your jaw, Billy nipped at your ear. “How’s this for touching you, sweetheart?” He hissed, licking and biting his way across your neck.

Your breathing was rampant as you felt yourself edging closer and closer. “It’s alright,” you teased with a cloudy grin.

“So stubborn,” he laughed into your neck and curled his fingers so that he hit an area inside you that felt almost primal. The moan he got in return made him bite down on your collarbone. He curled his fingers again and you nearly choked. “You sure?”

Pulling his hair, you steered his face back to yours and crashed your lips against his. “Fuck me.” You mumbled into his mouth.

He applied the smallest bit of pressure to your clit and flicked his fingers one final time, sending you over the cliff. With a long, shaky moan, you bucked your hips uncontrollably as you came into his hand. Every inch of you felt as though it was on fire as Billy made you ride out your orgasm, not for a second easing up on your clit as you writhed beneath him.

“Play with your tits,” he barked out through hooded eyes.

“You play with them,” you argued, but the resolve in your voice was gone. You weren’t entirely sure if you knew your name at that point. All you could focus on was the feeling of his finger pinching your highly sensitive clit and that was it. Everything else was a blur.

“God, you’re so fucking stubborn.”

You were so wet and so turned on you could barely think straight. “Billy,” you pleaded, your entire body heating up almost unbearably so. When he ignored you and instead continued his attack on your clit, you whimpered. “I need you to fuck me.”

With a bruising kiss, Billy released your clit and, in seconds flat, tugged his jeans far enough down his hips before slipping inside of you. The moan that escaped your lips was undeniable as he pumped into you. Reaching up, he grabbed your tit and squeezed as he bit down on your exposed neck. It was a sensory overload coming from all angles.

“Fuck,” Billy’s hoarse voice was in your ear as he pumped into you. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” He reached for your face and tilted your chin up towards him, meeting you halfway with a sloppy kiss. Moaning into his mouth, you managed lose yourself in that instance.

Gone was the room around you.

Hell, gone was everything up until this point.

All you could focus on was the feeling of Billy inside of you. Biting down on his lip, you tugged it back as he rolled his hips in a way that made you quiver. He was thrusting, hard, in an almost animalistic that made your entire body shake with the velocity of every desperate push. He moved between kissing your lips, to biting them to suckling your neck as he continued to rail into you with all of passion in the world. He was a man, unhinged, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen him so sexy.

Not surprising in the least, it didn’t take him long to come. You’d riled him up to the point of no return and, as you felt him come inside of you, you all but laughed when his forehead dramatically fell against your own.

For a few minutes, neither of you moved, simply just remained still and firmly pressed against one another. But, as the weight of your current whereabouts slowly dawned on either of you, you both slowly pulled away from each other, both wearing a small smile as you re-dressed yourselves.

Once his pants were done up, Billy stepped into you once again and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Cabin this weekend, okay?”

You nodded and hopped down from the desk. “Yeah, maybe,” you teased, fixing your skirt.

Billy’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, maybe, eh?”

“Yeah,” you winked, “I’ll think about it.”

“Smart ass,” Billy smirked. “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days.”

“I’m counting on it.” Once you were both fixed up, you nodded towards his hand which was still slicked with your juices. You laughed. “Oops.”

But Billy didn’t seem fazed. Instead, your breath hitched in your throat when he raised his hand to his lips and licked your slick clear off, relishing in the taste of it with a knowing smirk on his face. “This weekend.” He reiterated, driving the point home.

“This weekend,” you agreed, walking towards the door. Ensuring nobody saw the two of you leave an empty classroom together, you unlocked the door and gave Billy a small, knowing smile. “See you at lunch, lover boy.”

[qsphyxias]

heyy could I request some trans shuichi x trans reader general fluff hcs? I don’t see a lot of reader insert stuff with shuichi beings trans as well and I need to change that >:)c maybe like mutual dysphoria comfort and stuff like that :0 have a good day! thank you in advance

if you fetishize t4t relationships, get the fuck out of here!

synopsis ; hcs with trans! shuichi and trans! reader, feats. dysphoria comfort, some small little short drabbles in between.

warnings ; trans reader (no specific gender, just not cis), trans women are allowed to read this just because i don't really see a lot of content for trans people in general, not just dudes, dysphoria, not proof-read, not entirely sure where this is set in, established relationship.

note ; !!! god t4t relationships... i want to be in one so bad this request is perfect!!

words ; 0.9k +

◊ shuichi knows what it feels like to not be seen as a boy by his closest peers, or at least at one point.

◊ so instead of just using your correct pronouns, he would view you as your identity, and use your pronouns with your identity in mind, instead of just using your pronouns because it's the right thing to do.

it's a happy and safe t4t relationship, you both feel very safe and comfortable with each other.

◊ so many benefits, so many oh my god

◊ since you both are trans, you are both able to understand each other better, you are both able to help each other out in a way you know helps.

◊ shuichi's go-to method to calm his dysphoria is honestly just crying for hours on end, he would lock himself in his apartment for a week (max), because he wouldn't be able to see other people during that period, too convinced that he looked like a girl to everybody. it's definitely not the best method — um, at all — and he would not recommend it to anyone.

◊ the thing about this though, is that after meeting you, and finding out that you're trans, he is able to let you into that close bubble he was never able to let anyone into — not even his closest friends. He was finally able to talk to someone about it, lay his head in your lap, and beg you to tell him everything was going to be okay.

◊ a way shuichi would help you out with your dysphoria would be reading you books, watching movies, and physical touch. he can't take care of himself very well, so he wouldn't be able to cook you food other than instant noodles, although he would most definitely buy you the finest ben and jerry's around.

— shuichi gently shook you awake, a gentle smile on his face accompanying his gentle voice, "Hey baby... so i made you, um," shuichi paused, unsure how to make 'instant noodles' sound more appetizing than it actually was. "u- uh, this was a staple in uh, you know, my trainee days when i was a detective. i never really learned how to cook, and there wasn't much time to because of work... a- anyway!" he laughed nervously, putting down the paper bowl of instant ramen on the table next to you.

"um, i hope you like it? god, why am i so sweaty-" shuichi wiped his hands on his pyjama pants before sitting across from you, resting his hands on the table as he watched you carefully as if he was a training masterchef, and you were gordon ramsay sitting before him about to judge his food.

if gordon ramsey was wrapped in a blanket burrito and had dried tears on his face.

he watched you blow on the noodles and soup with a nervous but anticipating expression. "w- well?"

you slightly glared at him, your croaky voice breaking the weirdly stiff air. "jesus, shuichi, you're making me nervous now, too!"

you sighed, before slurping up the noodles, and holy god was it amazing.

... i'm just kidding, it just tasted like normal instant noodles, but you weren't about to crush puppy boy's dreams.

"w- wow! this is literally the best instant ramen i've ever had!" he looked at your bright expression with happy eyes. "r- really? thank g- god!"

"what the- shuichi why are you so sweaty-"

◊ a thing i could imagine him doing is rolling you up into a burrito with him, and having his head resting snugly on your shoulder. maybe even playing his personal dysphoria playlist made just for this occasion on repeat until you both memorize all the lyrics of all 11,037 songs.

◊ over and over again, he'd bring your body closer to his when he feels as if his grip is getting loose from fatigue — hell, if he had the worst cramp in the world, he would rather lose feeling in his muscles rather than let go of you when you need him most.

◊ and, with a soft, empathetic tone of voice, he'd speak now and then about how even though this hurts, even though it might feel like something is tearing out your heart piece by piece, things will change. it's not over yet.

◊ and even though sometimes you may not see exactly yourself when you look in the mirror, shuichi will always look at you and think, "that's... my partner. how did i manage to score someone like that? i don't get it."

◊ although if shuichi had been going through it with you, he wouldn't be a ton of help. he'd definitely stay attached to you at the hip though, he would hold you as close as he possibly could just so he could feel you. this man would rather feel like garbage with you, rather than be the one to let you suffer alone. he wants to do everything, with you.

◊ but if you need someone strong, if you need him to be a pillar, he will be. he may be a little weak-minded but nothing is more important to him than the people he loves and what they need first.

— "i love you so, so much," his voice above a sad whisper, "and i know, that you will get through this. because- because i'm here, and even though that may not seem like enough, i'll try harde-"

you cut him off, with no intention but to guess, because eventually, that little speech of his had gotten too long. "burrito?"

"... s- s/o, i'm trying to be serious! t- this was my declaration of love!" he stammered, struggling to look you in the eye now. it was the perfect moment for him to realize that he had really been burning up as he had spoken his speech earlier.

you simply... smiled.

"i know; i love you too."

⊱───── ❝ 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴! ❞ ─────⊰

[tenkoscumslut]

Hawks, Dabi, Shigaraki, Overhaul No nut november

So how would they react to no but November??🤔 btw OH MY GOD 107 ON THE DABI, SHIGARAKI AND HAWKS REACTION TO THICC THIGHS OMG THANKS U SO FMUCH <3 <3 <3

Shigaraki

-he didn’t get to chose

-you basically closed yourself off from him

-he was just a very horny boy before

-now he’s a frustrated and horny boy

-everything you do turns him on

-now just thinking of you can make him bust

-he tried to avoid you bc he’s scared he will loose control

-when u to go to bed he stuffs pillows between you to

-does not let you talk around him

-now that could get him to bust

-you tease him the entire time

-you purposely slightly stole the growing buldge in his boxers

-you whisper obscenities into his ear at night (he whines and tries to fuck you in his sleep)

-your just an asshole during NNN

-when it’s December 1, you wake up to a panting Shigaraki

-you can’t speak for at least a week

-your walk will be slightly weird for a month

-let’s just say it’s the best sex you’ve every had

Dabi

-he does it every month

-it’s not a problem

-y’all never really fuck

-he only does it when your a bitch, you make him jelous or he’s just stressed

-but this time it was different

-when NNN came he could barley take his eyes off you

-he wanted to fuck you 24/7

-everything you did was a turn on (yes u stuffed ur mouth with cheese balls and that turned him on)

-you t e a s e him

-like stuff you’d do if you wanted him to fuck you

-he woke up to your ass flushed against his crotch, and he couldn’t do anything about it

-you flirted with strangers, it took all his energy not to fuck your brains out

-you prance around either wear just a bra and hosted or his sweatshirt and nothing underneath

-he gives in on the last day when you wear a short skirt we’re you can easily see your panties

-he quickly drags you into an alleyway

-pulls your panties off

-and rams inside of you with no mercy

-like man slow sex made you scream out, now this, being fucked at an inhuman pace was mind blowing.

-you loved it 10/10 would totally do again.

Hawks

- a n g w y b u r d

-he didn’t talk to u

-he was horny

-and frankly just you alone made him hard

-he didn’t share his nuggies with you bc he was worried he was gonna get hard

-and he knows he can’t do anything about it

-he’s literally on the verge of tears every time he sees you

-and you just tease him

-you don’t tease a lot bc u don’t want to hurt his feelings

-but you tease

-just the occasional pantie flash, a seductive look, maybe him walking in on u changing.

-he somehow managed to last

-and after that

-he just has his cock buried inside of your sweet cunt for the next day. He loves it so much he never wants to let go.

Overhaul Kai Chisaki

-he didn’t care

-but he did

-when you told him about it

-he just scoffed and said, “darling, why would you think I would care”

-but you know him to well

-he loves desk sex

-and bath sex

-to him it’s just pure heaven.

-so when you sit on his lap like you normally do

-he gets h a r d

-like he blushes, gets a boner and just can’t concentrate.

-“d-darling d-do you m-mind moving?”, he stutters, like he can feel your pussy on his clothed cock and it just feels to good

-you give him kisses all throughout the month

-and that drives him insane

-and damn he was barley able to control himself

-he was going to take a bath

-and you to normally took baths together not for sex, but knowing that he let you be that close to him made you feel special.

-so when you say down on his lap butt naked in the bathtub, he almost lost it.

-he was rock hard in just a second

-“ah ah ah”, you tsked, “you still have 3 days left”.

-he was horny

-angry

-frustrated

-so when December 1 came

-he just fucked you like he never has before

And that’s it, hoped u liked it!!!

Plz follow or repost, oh and if u want me to write something I’ll gladly do it!

LOVE U ALL <3 <3 <3

[burnedbyshoto]

I wanted to make myself like the ravine

— There are plenty of things that Hawks knows about, but there are few he knows none about. A journey of how Hawks navigates the meaning of the word love. 

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: hawks (takami keigo) x fem!reader

warnings: recent manga spoilers, future!au, alcohol consumption, fem!reader

word count: 6,819

a/n: this is for the pocuties valentines day collab! rhank you for letting me join! inspired by the poem to the title of this fic!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

A G A P E

—

Hawks is one of the fastest men in the world.

It’s not a brag; it’s the truth.

A cold, hard, damning truth.

Hawks is a Pro Hero with the power, skill, and finesse required to take the fall for the entire country. He is someone who is loved by all, who thrives off of the appreciation and the cheers, but he knows — he understands — he’s expendable. He’s a tool—an object seconds from being put to rest.

There are many things that Hawks knows; he’s been training to be a hero since he was in his very childhood. Blindfolded, tested and conditioned to be the ideal hero, the perfect pawn.

Hawks is no idiot, and he will never deny that often times that he isn’t sure what he is feeling.

Emotions are weird for him. Feelings are oversimplified in everything he was taught, yet disgustingly really and oddly interfering the second he had set foot into the spotlight. He was used to the cold, the people who would view him as a specimen, experiment 20493, codenamed: Fierce Winged Hawks. The only emotions he understood was apathy, seriousness, anger, resentment, bitterness, disappointment, and relief. When finally, finally, the Hero Commission broke his wings, his spine, and his mind, the small boy so eager to be a Hero ultimately nothing but a soldier, ready to follow commands to the T.

Hawks has only heard of love from the blurry, unclear memories of his childhood. His mother muttering how she had no love for him to be taking care of him as he did, or his father saying he could never love him. Love was foreign, strange, alien to him. Even when he was eighteen and finally given a bit of freedom from the chains the Hero Commission bound him in was expressed out of love. But he was put into the cage that granted him the ability to spread his stiff wings; love made no sense.

He saw lovers making out in alleyways, and he furrowed his eyebrows, wondering just why anyone would want to kiss in the smelly, dark, virus-infected areas. He saw his colleagues come in looking dazed, refreshed, reborn, yelling loudly, and singing poetry about their love for some other person they met just yesterday. He also couldn’t ignore the days, weeks, months later when they would rearrive with red-rimmed eyes, swollen eyes, and a tremor to their voice.

Love seemed… awful to Hawks.

Love was a deception of brain chemicals. Nothing more than your mind bending, flipping, and twisting to make something that made absolutely no sense make sense. 

Hawks had expressed that one day to a sidekick of his, his barriers and walls crumbling away because he had been on a stakeout for five days straight now. The world that could never keep up with him was numbing his brain.

“Well, that’s romantic and flirtatious love for ya,” his sidekick explained with a halfhearted shrug. It seemed that he both agreed and disagreed with what Hawks had to say. “They’re amazing loves, don’t get it wrong, and they definitely don’t make sense, but they’re loves not meant to last.”

Hawks blinked.

“What?”

His sidekick chuckled, hands rubbing at his eyes as he peered out the window again, his sullen eyes looking even more tired.

“Have you never learned the different types of love before, Hawks?” the sidekick teased as much as he was curious. “I figured a pro as popular and smart as you are would know the different types of love.”

Hawks feathers fluttered in his inability to keep his lack of knowledge to himself.

“I don’t.”

“Wow, finally something Hawks isn’t aware of!” the sidekick laughed, and his hand opened his phone, fingers hitting the screen before shoving the device into Hawks’ chest. “I’m sure you’ll find that you can understand at least one love.”

Hawks grabbed the phone, head cocking to the side in his curiosity as he scrolled down through the phone.

There were eight different types.

Eight different ones that he could have experienced within his then twenty-one years, and he found himself unable to look away from one.

Agape: universal, selfless love

“Hawks, they’re moving!” the sidekick squawked, and Hawks handed over the phone, and with nothing on his mind, burst out the window, ready to take down this organization.

Hawks had to admit that later that night, when he was finally able to sleep in his own bed, he felt selfless love. It was for the people of Japan. The many citizens who needed his help and the heroes of the country who rose to the demands of the job. Maybe it wasn’t the type of love depicted in anything he’s ever read or watched before, but that was okay. It was love.

The love he has for the citizens is enough to keep his head afloat.

This is the only love he needs in his life right now, the only love that matters.

But he’s no longer twenty-one, he’s twenty-five, and the wings on his back that feel practically invisible to him, are hurting. His back is in pain, his quirk almost gone, save for the smallest, insignificant feathers perching from the stumps of what was his beginnings of a wingspan. It still burns, phantom singes and phantom heat whenever he thinks about his nearly gone, never to be grown again, wings.

“Well, Hawks, you already know that this is going to happen,” comes the cold voice of one of the board members of the Hero Commission. A man who had practically raised (see managed) him. 

Today was the end of Hawks life, more or less.

“AFO, Shigaraki Tomura, and the well-known former members of the League of Villains were finally stopped,” Hawks speaks with a nod. He knows, even though he could not be a soldier, he had been around to see the young UA students, Endeavors Interns, bring them to justice.

The biggest names of evil were dead, and Hawks already knew he was over.

To be fair, he was glad it was over.

But still, it hurt to hear the indifference in his voice, the apathy, the tedium.

“Operation: Fierce Wings - Hawks is officially over.”

“I could’ve figured that one out pretty easily,” Hawks jests, unable to show the way his heart twisted and withered under the knowledge that he was no longer a hero. His love, his agape, for the people were still there. Still, just as he recognized in his colleagues who were experiencing the different forms of love, it didn’t matter how much love you held for someone, something, for the innocent, helpless people…

Life takes, it destroys, and love doesn’t seem to have a chance.

“Thank you for your twenty years of service. I hope you find the freedom you had been looking for.”

P H I L A U T I A

It’s been a week.

Seven days, twenty-one hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty-four seconds since Hawks was fired (see Honorably Discharged) as a Pro Hero.

Hawks has always felt that the world moved oh so slowly behind him. It had been his wish that heroes be able to relax, laze around because society had evolved enough that criminals knew better, were treated better, and could integrate into a truly peaceful society.

It had been his dream.

But right now, he was bored.

B o r e d.

“Fuck, I don’t care,” Hawks grumbled, face smooshing into a pillow as he watched the Netflix Series Bridgerton drone on the screen. “Dump his ass.”

His apartment, it was safe to say, was a mess. There were cups, bowls, plates, and chopsticks everywhere. His hair was ruffled, stringy, held back by a hair clip he had stolen from Miruko. His beard was nearly fully grown in, and there were bags under his eyes despite the fact he was sleeping for more hours of the day than staying awake. He was sore, tired, bored.

So bored.

He didn’t think being bored was going to suck this much, going to hurt him like this.

Fuck.

“Open the damn door, bird boy!” came a sharp scream and powerful kick from the front door.

Hawks glared at the door, the tiniest of feathers he had been able to regrow, trying to pathetically open the lock on the door. A sheen layer of sweat pushed against his forehead, and Hawks grunted, trying to lift the heavy lock.

BAM.

The door swung open, forcefully kicked open by none other than Pro Hero Miruko.

“Yo!” Miruko waved, lips pulled in a fierce grin as she entered through the broken doorway with nothing but a bag of unknown items. “I figured you were here!”

“...you broke my door,” Hawks pointed out, eyes narrowed as dust and destruction danced within the air.

“You took too long,” Miruko breezed, slamming her plastic bag on the kitchen island. “It’s a fucking rats nest in here, birdbrain; I thought you were somewhat organized?”

Hawks groaned loudly, sinking further into his couch as Miruko began reorganizing his kitchen area — dumping the dirty dishes into the sink and throwing things away in fast, practiced skill. “Life is too boring, and I’m too bored to do anything about all of the mess,” Hawks exaggerates partially, hand twisting and dancing as he speaks. “Thanks for cleaning up the mess.”

“I’m not cleaning up your damn mess, birdbrain,” Miruko barks out a laugh, her hands slamming against the now, somehow, clean surface. “I’m just making my life easier!”

Hawks looked over the top of the couch with a semi impressed, semi uncaring look and shrugged.

“You seem to have a great handle over those robot limbs now,” he points out.

Sure enough, Miruko had two bionic limbs, limbs that she had finally managed to work into a fighting career. After spending two years on the sideline, relearning how to walk and then fight, she was back on the field.

She was a hero again, despite it all, unlike him.

“Damn right, I’m amazing!” Miruko preened, chest puffed, and bunny tail wagging excitedly. “But anyway, I figured your dumbass would be depressed, so I brought you some shit.”

Hawks watched with a curious gaze as Miruko quickly hopped once from where she was in the kitchen to a place on his couch, landing on Hawks' legs unintentionally.

“OW!”

“Look at what Rumi brought you,” Miruko laughed, slapping Hawks on the back as he cradled his legs. “And yes, I just referred to myself in the third person, so shush.”

Hawks grumbled, lips in a half pout, half frown.

Taking the opaque bag from Miruko, Hawks pulled out the many items in the bag.

Carrots, a KFC gift card, Korean skincare products, a movie about Miruko’s recovery process, and a 1001 Things to Do (A Book on Finding Self Love).

Hawks stares at the book.

“The perfect items for a self-care, self-love spa day,” Miruko nods, once again slapping Hawks on the back. “Some old sidekick of yours told me that you don’t know what love is, so I figured that I would help teach you the most important one! Self-love! Truly the hardest one to master, in my opinion, but damn if it isn’t a good one.”

Hawks feels transfixed almost, unable to look away from the book as Miruko slaps him on the back yet again as she moves to leave. He hears her yelling about forwarding the bill to fix his door to her, her agency would pay for the damage, and how she’s off to train with some bunny hopping boy from UA.

Opening the book, Hawks looked at the number one thing to do on the book and sighed.

#1: Look in a mirror and name five things you LOVE about yourself.

Well, it’s not like he has anything better to do.

-

Hawks is on number thirteen (Stand at a bridge and scream into the void about the things you love at dusk) when he realizes that maybe… he doesn’t love himself. 

It is without saying that he loves people; agape, after all, is the only love type that made sense to him, but philautia, self-love, was way lost on him. Objectives 2 - 12 on the book were entertaining to do! They had Hawks going outside of his house much more than his week trapped indoors, and for the first time since the day his wings had been burnt off, his house was spotless.

But it was clear to Hawks that he didn’t feel love for himself.

Whenever he tried to convince himself that he should love himself, that there were terrific qualities in himself, he thought back to the dirty, burnt room. 

“I still gotta protect their happiness!” the phantom in his mind screamed, the broken sob collected in his throat.

Hawks shivered, unable to let himself recognize the pain and hurt in the phantom's eyes, or the way that he now wished he had never done that… why had he done that?

What a mess…

The small chirping of Hawks phone interrupts his morose thoughts. He looks at the screen, eyebrows raising in slight mirth and caution as none other than his former intern was currently calling him.

“Tsukuyomi-kun!” Hawks laughs into the receiver, the weight of his past for a moment forgotten. “How are ya?!”

“Hello, Hawks-sensei,” Tokoyami’s calm tone fills Hawks' ears. “I was calling because I have a request to make.”

“Name it,” Hawks spoke immediately, slouching against the cold bars of the bridge, eyes closing as he tried to relax. “You need a letter of rec or something?”

“Nothing of the sort, actually,” Tokoyami says. “We third-year students are graduating in a few days; I was inquiring if you would attend on my behalf.”

“Wow, Tsukuyomi-kun, no need to be so formal with me!” Hawks laughed delightedly, his hands carting through his feather-like hair, “I’d love to come and watch you guys graduate! Is it true that the finger-smashing boy is the valedictorian?”

“That would be false, Midoriya-kun has nothing on Yaoyorozu-san.”

“What a bummer, you’d think he’d be first after how he helped win the war for us, huh?”

“You’ll find that Yaoyorozu-san is highly gifted and undeterred by most things,” Tokoyami sighed. For a moment, Hawks chuckled at the melancholy tone to his old intern's voice. It sounded as if he had been striving with great difficulty to reach the highest marks as well. 

Hawks began speaking to his rather odd ex-intern with great curiosity with the blanket of the night surrounding him. His defenses and thoughts whittling away the more they spoke, the later it got in the morning.

“Ne, Tokoyami-kun, I have a question?”

“Concerning what?”

Hawks pauses, his brows furrowing as he looks up into the still dark sky, “Do you know how to love yourself?”

Silence.

Had it been anyone else, Hawks would have panicked at the lack of noise. Still, his already less than chatty intern typically took to not speaking much to begin with.

“Self-love is difficult,” Tokoyami finally spoke, his words slow, carefully chosen. “We humans are flawed; we all have demons. Most of the time, we only recognize and see our demons, oftentimes forgetting that being human also means being weak and at times immoral. Loving oneself is a hard task because we know ourselves better than any other. It’s a work in progress for everyone to love oneself, it's a type of love by the Ancient Greeks, but it’s not always everpresent. One must accept all flaws to love oneself, and remember that flaws don’t make you less, even if you believe otherwise.”

“...wow, I asked for a sentence answer, and you gave me a speech. Who would’ve known you were so in check with your emotions, Tokoyami!”

“You knew, I’ve already revealed this side of me before. You laughed last time too.”

Hawks finds himself home thirty minutes later, and he stares up at the ceiling, fingers drumming against his chest.

Self-love… it seems like an ever-evolving type of love, but it’s there. He knows that even if he has regrets and hardships and things he hates about himself, deep down, self-love exists and that it will exist. 

Patience.

Even the fastest man in the world could demonstrate patience.

L U D U S

“What can I get for ya?”

“I have no idea honestly, do you have any recommendations?”

Hawks could say with complete honesty that he felt entirely out of place.

He was at a local bar. The bar was semi-busy today. Most young adults dressed in an arrangement of clothes, each on a different level of soberness as they cheered to this and that. 

Why was he at a bar even though he was slightly uncomfortable? Well, you can blame #73 in the book for that.

(#73: Enter the first bar you find, order a drink, and flirt!)

“What type of liquor do you like? Hard or soft?”

Hawks blinked; he didn’t know.

“Hard?”

The bartender looked a bit unsure of him for a bit before nodding and turning his back to him.

Did hard liquor mean he was going to get an iced drink? He’s never consumed alcohol before.

“Here you go!” the bartender sang, slamming two shot glasses before him. “Two shots of Bacardi.”

“Oh, thank you?” Hawks tilted his head as a small cup of OJ was placed in front of him (“That’s your chaser,” the bartender had laughed). Bringing the small glass shot glass up, Hawks looked around at the throngs of people surrounding the bar and looked at you. You were cheering loudly as you raised your own shot glass in the air with a whoop and, in a fast, fluid motion, brought the shot glass to your mouth and took the liquid down easily. Hawks was definitely unimpressed now; that looked entirely too easy. “Here we go, cheers to me.”

Imitating your own actions, Hawks shot back the liquid in his shot glass, and immediately his entire body tensed.

EW.

NO.

EW.

OH GOD, NO!

Spitting out the sour, bitter, disgusting — dear god, how do you even describe this taste?! — liquid, Hawks, chugged the OJ, his lungs and throat and tongue burning from the shot.

“That was disgusting!” Hawks spat to absolutely no one, his hands covering his mouth as he stared at the other awaiting shot of ‘Bacardi.’ “Why would anyone drink that?!”

“Only madmen drink Bacardi while sober,” a voice joined in on Hawks' one-sided conversation. “Or bitches who are self-sabotagers. Never trust a hoe who says Bacardi is their favorite drink.”

Hawks turned around to see you, the girl he had regrettably underestimated for taking the shot, smiling at him with a not entirely sober look to your face. 

“You look like neither. That and the way you took the shot obviously means that you had no idea what you were drinking.” Hawks continued to stare at you, completely perplexed by your casual conversation, the dress on your body that was twisted a bit, screaming wonders about your level of sobriety. You took to the empty barstool beside him with a grin and a calculating look, “You’re Hawks, right?”

“Yeah, Hawks,” he spoke, his tongue feeling weird in his mouth as he bowed stiffly in his chair. You were beautiful, fuck.

“I’m y/l/n, nice to meet you!” you speak easily, fingers grabbing at his other filled shot glass with a concerned look. “I have a feeling you shouldn’t try to take this other shot.”

“Dying of alcohol definitely isn’t in my vision of ways to go out,” Hawks grins. Pushing through his haze of awkwardness as you shift in the barstool so that you’re now facing him entirely, knees pressed to his thigh. “I’ve never actually drunk before?”

You inhale sharply, your eyes going wide as you break all levels of personal contact that’s acceptable of strangers in Japan and grab his cheeks.

“Alcohol virgin?!” you gasp, the sweet smell of some liquid drafting from your breath. “I’ll teach you everything that I know, don’t worry!”

You let go of his face, neck turning away from him, looking for the bartender to flag him down.

“Don’t you have—?”

“They can wait,” you wave at the bartender before turning back to Hawks with a confident grin on your face. “I have my favorite Pro Hero right beside me; I think they’ll understand.”

“Alright, what is it that I need to know?”

“My full name,” you breeze with a wink. “Y/l/n y/n.”

“A beautiful name.”

“I am a beautiful woman.”

Hawks chuckled good-naturedly, his head nodding in agreement, “I think we were talking about the alcohol, though, not your attraction as a female.”

“All in good time, all in good time,” you laugh, taking to the bartender and ordering two drinks, both of which were entirely foreign to Hawks.

Hawks would not consider himself to be an expert at flirting. He was attractive, a great conversationalist, and did have a type of edge to his words that often seemed playful or a warning, depending on how you looked at it. But it appeared that his natural way of speaking was more than enough to make him flirtatious enough to match the way you spoke to him.

You had introduced him to a single mixed drink, telling him that getting drunk by yourself at a bar typically wasn’t a smart thing, so keep to something with a low alcohol percentage. Just enough to make you loosen up, but not enough that you were incapable of getting home. Hawks liked the way your hand rested on his forearm. How you smiled and laughed at something to show your interest but not at everything to show that you weren’t faking your amusement at what he was saying.

You matched his every word, not backing down from his bluffs. Soon enough, Hawks felt his cheeks warm when he finally looked directly at your smiling face (he wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or not). 

Eventually, though, the night ended, and you shimmied off the bar stool as your friends had come to collect you to leave.

“Can I get your number?” you ask, eyes mostly entirely sober as you handed him your phone. “I know you were the man who was just a bit too fast, but I think I can handle that.”

Hawks snorts, his eyes rolling in his amusement, “That was horrible.”

“I’m drunk, I have an excuse!” you exclaim with a pout that quickly turns into a giddy smile as Hawks enters his number to your phone. “Don’t worry though, once I’m sober, I’ll flirt your eyebrows clean off!”

“That sounds painful!” Hawks yells as you wave goodbye, your arms linked with a line of other girls as you leave the bar with teasing laughter and undecipherable words.

It was with you that Hawks realized that he had come to find a new type of love.

Ludus, the love of flirtation and playfulness.

Damn, who would’ve known.

P H I L I A

Hawks was having a pretty bad day.

It wasn’t anything super terrible happening, all things considered. It was a lovely day out; the sun was warm, the sky so blue, and the birds chirping. Nothing on the news to be concerned about and all his precious people were safe.

But it was still a bad day because instead of being out and about with you, his now borderline best friend/girlfriend, who he was stupidly having a crush on, he was stuck at home.

Hawks was sick.

Deliriously, stuffy nose, goopy eyed, chapped lips, and feverish sick.

You: Are you sure you’re fine????

Hawks: Im perfectly okay. Ill go with you to the park next time sorry

You: Thats not what im concerned about stupid!!!!!

Hawks: Bye have fun!

You: I knoW YOURE SICK ASSHOLE

Hawks chuckled, rereading his messages with you.

Blowing his nose for what felt like the umpteenth time, Hawks resumed the movie on the screen that you had recommended him to watch — Disney’s Chicken Little — because it reminded you of him, or something like that. The TV droned on with the movie, and Hawks found it hard to keep focused as the Sandman danced on his head and whispered in his ear.

He hadn’t noticed he had fallen asleep until a loud banging was heard on his door.

Shuffling towards the door, Hawks opened the still slightly broken door with bleary eyes and a stuffy nose.

In front of him was none other than you.

You… with a basket full of things.

“Hi!” you greeted him, pushing past Hawks easily and walking into his apartment. “You look worse than I thought you would be!”

“That's hurtful,” Hawks pouted, closing the door behind you, sneezing, then following after you. “Why are you here? I thought you w-were — achoo — going to the park?”

“I was, but we were supposed to go together to check off number 184, and I wasn’t about to go alone to complete a list meant for you!” you exclaimed, dumping the overfilled basket on the kitchen counter.

“Mm,” Hawks hummed, his voice dry and cracking as he pulled the blanket closer around him. “What’s this?”

“A get well care basket,” you say in an unmistakable like tone; you glance at him, smiling widely, and gesture dramatically to the basket. “Follow along, if you can.”

“Pfft.”

“So first, I have some sleepytime tea; I swear to the gods and back that this tea will cure you and knock you the fuck out,” you say, pulling out the thing on top of the basket and putting it to the side. “Next, we have some tissues because you obviously need them.”

“Hey!”

Hawks watched through red-rimmed eyes as you carefully and thoroughly explained what and why you had brought him. Fuzzy socks, a blanket, his favorite snacks and drinks, medicine, DVD’s to more movies you told him he had to watch, an embarrassing childhood picture of you that he had been wanting and swore he would never expose least he wants to die, more oils for his diffuser, and a signed Endeavor poster he had been wanting.

Safe to say that after he had been drugged up, eating some soup and drinking some tea on the couch, wrapped up in the blanket you had bought him, laying between your legs, Hawks was feeling much, much better. It had been hours since Hawks had coughed or sneezed, and he was talking with you about how Disney movies were being produced less and getting sort of worse with each one. The movie titan slowly losing its ground.

“Okay, it’s almost eleven pm; I have work tomorrow, you are still sick, let's pack it up!” you eventually say during a moment of comfortable silence.

“I can’t believe you have to work,” Hawks sniffled, standing up off the couch so that you could get up. “Seems like a crime.”

“It’s not so bad! Being a celebrity PR manager is a million times easier than a hero PR manager. At least we can help decide what's seen!” you laugh, helping to clean up his living room of the bags of chips and drinks.

“Sure, sure,” Hawks grins, keeping the trashcan open for you so that you could place the trash in. “Thank you.”

Walking you towards the front door, Hawks comes to the sudden and almost alarming realization that he doesn’t want you to leave. He wants you to stay. He thought this was a friendship, and it was one, a good one at that! For about a month now, he had known that there was a type of love he had for you, one of friendship.

It was called philia. 

So why did he want to keep you wrapped up in a hug, to pull you close and press a gentle kiss to your forehead, to your cheek, to your lips?

“—I’ll be back tomorrow to check up on you during my lunch break,” you say, slipping on your shoes as you pull on your jacket. “If you need anything at all, call or text—”

The words on your tongue die immediately when Hawks still slightly chapped lips press against yours. The sick must that was present earlier on the day is no longer there, and you can feel heat and fire bursting from your cells as Hawks pulls away from you.

“I’m sorry,” Hawks breathes out, a small smile on his face, a daze in his eyes that tells you he definitely was not completely sorry. “I couldn’t resist anymore?”

“W-We will talk about that later!” your voice squeaks, your heart hammering in your throat because fucking Hawks kissed you. “If I-I get sick, I’ll rip out your eyebrows!”

“Will you go out with me? On a date?” Hawks continues on, leaning on the doorframe you’ve yet to pass.

“...I hate you, yes,” you warble, hands pressing against your burning face as Hawks grin grows.

“Perfect, I’ll text you,” he allows you to pass through the doorway where you feel both entirely light and giddy yet awkward and mechanical.

“Hawks, I swear, if your stupid kiss got me sick!”

“You’ll rip out my eyebrows,” Hawks laughs, waving a hand. “If you rip out my eyebrows, I demand a kiss for every hair you pluck out.”

He laughs at how he can basically see the heat rising from your ears as you squawk and run away.

Looking at #184 of his book, Hawks smiles as he crosses it out (#184: Ask out your crush!) and sighs. Philia was love between friends, but it was also, if he remembered correctly, one of affection. And it was without saying that he held a deep affection for you.

E R O S

As much as Hawks claimed he knew about the world, he was as clueless as a newborn baby when it came to the topic of love. Reasoning? Well, today marked a year of being together. It had been a year since Hawks had kissed you when he was snot-nosed kissed (you did get sick, by the way, and while you didn’t rip out his eyebrows, Hawks had kissed you plenty in apology), and then took you on a date where you went to a trampoline palace.

He was clumsily romantic. More often than not, he wasn’t actually romantic. Still, the sincere thought and emotions he put into it made his actions seem so thoughtful and sweet.

You’re not sure why you actually believed that on your year anniversary, he was going to plan something for the two of you. So the reaction he had when you showed up on the year anniversary, armed with a bouquet of flowers and a small personal gift for him, Hawks looked deeply confused.

“This is still not bad!” you exclaim, watching as Hawks attempts to redecorate his apartment from the messy bachelor vibe into something of romance. It was easier said than done, especially as your boyfriend had no decorations in his house that wasn’t fanboy or bird material.

“I didn’t realize that one year anniversaries were meant to be out and about!” Hawks yelled back, failing to nail the fairy lights onto the ceilings. “I knew you wanted to do something, but I thought it was going to be like ‘let’s go get some KFC!’ sort of thing!”

“Definitely not,” you laugh, sitting on his couch with the take out food sitting on the table. It had just arrived, and Hawks was still not accepting the lack of romance in his apartment. “But it’s okay, really Hawks! I didn’t tell you, which is entirely my fault! Come on, let's watch something together, eat, and relax!”

Hawks sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

He should have known that one year anniversaries were a big thing in dating too. They sure were in businesses; what a rookie mistake. Not satisfied with the lack of romance in his apartment but also unable to do anything more to it, Hawks sulked over to the couch and sat beside you, grabbing his dinner plate.

“Thanks, dove.”

“You’re most welcome, baby vulture. Thank you for the food!” you grin, breaking the chopsticks and digging in.

The food is eaten with a mirthful conversation, the TV playing the 100 Funniest Hero Fails playing on Youtube. Eventually, the purples and pinks of the sky became dark.

Night is here.

Hawks went from sitting right beside you to lying on the couch and having you snuggled into his stomach at some point in the night. YouTube is no longer playing Hero Compilation videos. Still, it is now instead showing a chef with a giraffe quirk demonstrating how to make your very own pancake treehouse, no clickbait!

Hawks is transfixed on you, watching the way your eyes sparkle and shine as you stare up at the screen, your lips moving as you give your side commentary, but he can’t hear a thing.

Five weeks ago, on this day, was the day that Hawks realized that the philia love he had for you had evolved once again. It had become one of eros. Romantic, passionate love. He loved you; he loves you. Anything you wanted or needed in the world, Hawks would do anything to give it to you. He had yet to tell you said realization; after all, he needed to make sure it wasn’t some fluke but found himself chickening out each time he wanted to confess.

Gliding his thumb against your cheekbone, Hawks stared adoringly at you, head tilted as you laughed at the video before glancing up at him. It was evident that you hadn’t been expecting him to be staring at you so intensely. As soon as you glanced back at the TV, you snapped right back, curiosity blazing off your gaze.

“What’s up?” you asked, hands pressing to his chest as you lift up a bit. “Do I have something on my face?”

“I love you,” Hawks whispered, the words coming out so much easier than he thought it would. “Y/l/n y/n, I love you.”

Your eyes widen significantly, your jaw dropping as your eyes grow just a bit watery.

Hawks smiles softly, knowing that for so long you had told him you loved him without a single moment where he returned the affection. It hadn’t bothered you. Obviously, you knew why he didn’t say it, but finally hearing him say it seemed to break you just a bit in the best of ways. He kisses you softly, fingers wiping away the single tear that fell.

“I love you,” he repeats.

“I love you too, Hawks,” you blubber, your smile so bright yet wobbling with your heartfelt emotions.

“Takami Keigo,” Hawks corrects. “My name is Takami Keigo.”

Hawks watches as you process his name, and a wet laugh bubbles from your throat as you nod your head, hands reaching behind his neck to pull him close for the first soul-consuming, fiery kiss of the night.

“I love you, Keigo.”

If this wasn’t eros, well, then, Hawks didn’t know what it was.

P R A G M A

two years later, valentines day

Keigo sits on the bed, fingers adjusting the tie around his neck as he stares at you doing your makeup in the bathroom. Your eyes intensely concentrated on your reflection as you painted dark red lips on yourself.

To sum up the last two years in a single, simple phrase, Keigo would say that love now made even less sense to him.

It wasn’t precisely that it made perfect sense before. Some days he still argued and wondered about how love could exist in specific scenarios. Or why, after you stole his final KFC chicken leg he was saving, he could always love you after such betrayal. It made no sense to him, but also made perfect sense, hence the complete confusion.

But it was without saying that as you twirled in your outfit in front of him, a grin plastered so large and lovingly on your features, that it made sense.

How could he not love when he had someone like you.

The walk to the restaurant was perfect; he had even taken a moment to slow dance with you when you came across some performers. Your sweet smile meant just for him made Keigo hum contently as he kissed you gently.

Dinner was amazing. The food rich and luscious, entirely to die for that had the both of you moaning about how great it was before laughing because the waitress definitely heard that. After dinner was over, you and Keigo were now waiting on desserts when he simply grabbed your left hand and slid a simple ring over a very important finger before placing a kiss on your palm.

“I know I was at one point too fast, and maybe I think I was too slow to ask this, but would you like to wake up and have chicken with me every day?” Keigo asked, watching as your face went through a million stages of understanding, processing, internalizing, accepting, and pure emotions.

The kiss was sloppy and wet, the tears streaming down your face beautifully, like diamonds in the dark sky.

It was today that Keigo unlocked the last love he ever thought he would have.

Pragma: committed, enduring love.

[chanluster]

business proposals | {m}

oneshot | ceo! au | 10.9k words

“It was about time you addressed the cat and mouse game you and your boss have been playing for a time.”

s u m m a r y > > clashing heads with your annoyingly attractive boss was your everyday activity, but when a new, beautiful client comes in for the day you find yourself getting jealous. mr. lee, catching on, uses it to his absolute advantage, causing you to end up in a situation you did not think would end well. fortunately for you, with the way your dark-minded ceo’s mind worked, despite the hiccups in the middle, it ended just perfectly.

w a r n i n g s > > ceo! minho, secretary! reader, you get so annoyed at him all the time, he annoys you all the time, constant teasing, a fuckload of swearing, soooo much (kinda shit) sexual tension, flirtation back and FORTH, titles of endearment, minho is such a fucking dom, reader is a fucking BRAT, making out, fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving) you try to give him blueballs, unprotected sex (stay safe homies!!), semi-public sex (i mean they do it in his office so like), multiple orgasms, y’all be arguing during it all too HELP, minho has a sir kink sjsjskke, minho is so AGGRESSIVE HOLY SHIT, SO MUCH degradation, use of gags? (i mean he uses his tie so) basically you are 100% minho’s bitch by the end period!!

a u t h o r ’ s  n o t e > > hello horny fia is back again with a minho oneshot because she can not control herself!!!1!1! thank you @hyuckworld​ for so much inspo and helping me out omfg the tie thing still on my mind !1!1! anyway this is inspired by minho’s soribada look cause he mf SERVED! and i hope y’all enjoy !

back to masterlist

YOUR SMILE WAS MORE LIKE A FLASH OF TEETH.

“For the last time,” you seethed, trying your very best to contain your bubbling temper, “You cannot see him if you don’t have an appointment.”

The woman before you, a striking image of curls and curves, fitted red dress, white blazer, and Louboutins elevating her height, knifed you with finely-lined eyes. “But I don’t need an appointment! Mr. Lee said so himself I could arrive at his office when I wished to speak with him!”

You pursed your lips. Of course Mr. Fucking Lee said so.

“Well, there’s nothing I can do about it, Miss Kim.” You turned to your computer, opening up the list of clients intended to meet your boss this afternoon. Sure enough, this woman’s name was not accompanied with the others. Once again, he had said some pretty words, but had not reminded you of them so you could write it down for official backing.

You could not help typing a little furiously. It was like he was trying to make your life harder.

“I demand to see him!” Miss Kim exclaimed, raising her voice so the other employees, who were scattered before you at their desks, working away, paused, witnessing the commotion. “I did not travel from another city to be rejected!”

“Ma’am,” you guttered, hands on the telephone, ready to call security, when the misty, glass-like door beside you swung upon.

A firm, sultry voice resonated in the room.

“What is the meaning of this noise?”

Out stepped the one man you were hoping would stay seated in his office.

You turned around in your seat, looking up at the suited figure of Lee Minho — CEO of the corporation you worked under, and the mastermind behind the technological revolution in your city.

He certainly looked the part: black suit unbuttoned with his tie hanging, white shirt contrasting the colours. His trousers hugged his thighs a little too tightly for your own good, designer branded shoes adorning his feet. His dark brown locks were cascading over his forehead, and his calculating eyes assessed the room, finding the reason for such noise behind his doors.

His gaze settled on the woman. “Ah, Miss Kim!” He declared, a known dazzling smile upon his lips. “It’s good you’ve arrived.”

“Of course I would come,” she said, darting her glare back to you. “This little assistant of yours was ready to throw me out of the building.”

A slight tilt of his head. “Oh, really?”

Then, his eyes descended on you, seated before him, and you noticed something already stirring behind them. “And why was this ‘little assistant of mine’ booting you out of here?”

You pointed to your computer. “She’s not on your list of appointments for today.”

“So?” A glance at the woman. “When a pretty lady asks to see me, you oblige her, understand?”

Seething, you lock your hands together. “Then what is the point of the list when you won’t follow it?”

You nearly gasped in anger when you caught slight mischief in his eyes. “Keeping you on your toes, ____.”

“As always,” you hissed, returning his malicious smirk with a scowl.

He only chuckled at your lack of amusement, turning to the woman once more. “Miss Kim,” he addressed her, opening the door, gesturing for her to enter. “Come inside.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lee,” she simpered out, widening her sharp grin at you before going inside his office.

The man stood, regarding you for a minute. You glanced at him, frown still there. “Yes?”

“I am not to be disturbed,” he said, gaze a little too intense for your liking. “Is that understood?”

You made sure to match his stare. “Yes, sir.”

And you could have sworn his lips twitched upward when he turned to his office, entering after the woman.

When the door slid shut, you let out a shuddering breath.

Why in hell were you holding your breath?

“God,” you muttered, furiously typing away on your computer, noticing another presence approaching you. “He’s going to be the death of me.”

“Do not tell me you’re talking about Mr. Lee here.”

You looked up, and rolled your eyes to find Kim Seungmin, one of the salesmen for the firm, standing before you, files in hand and a knowing smile on his lips. “I am, as a matter of fact,” you said. “And how much I want to kill him.”

The man gave you a look. “Now see, I don’t think ‘kill’ was the word I thought you’d use.”

“Oh yeah?” You crossed your arms. “Then what word do you think I’d use?”

“I don’t know, like…” his adorable smile was so unlike his words. “Kiss? Fuck even?”

You let out a harsh gasp, nearly whacking his arm with your scattered files. “Oh my God!”

“You can’t deny it, ____!” Seungmin pointed to the door. “You have a massive crush on him!”

“How can you even say that!” you demanded, pulling you near him so the others around you did not hear. “I hate that cocky bastard.”

Your friend clicked his tongue at your statement. “Then can you please explain to me why you both got enough sexual tension to suffocate the entire building?”

“We do not,” you refused instantly, picking up your mug of coffee. “You’re mistaking my bloodlust with just lust.”

“Can you at least stop pretending to me that you don’t want to suck his dick?”

Nearly choking on your coffee, you struggled it down, sending a sharp glare. “I don’t!” you raised your chin. “I bet it’s tiny anyway. Wouldn't have anything for me to suck on.”

Now that, of all the things you said that afternoon, was a complete, full blown, almost offensive, lie.

Not that you’ve caught a glimpse at the package which settled between Lee Minho’s legs. Well, you had, to your own shame, and were burning at the clothed sight, proving your little claim extremely incorrect. Your boss, devastatingly, had something substantial going for him.

Seungmin’s little laugh had you dropping down to reality. “You were thinking about his cock just now, weren’t you?”

Cheeks burning, you waved him off, groaning as you went back to your computer. Minho’s appointments looked oh so interesting. “Fuck off, Min.”

His laughter only deepened as he stepped away. “There’s no hope for you, girl. You keep daydreaming about that.”

If it weren’t for the people around you, you would have happily sent him away with a middle finger, but figured you should hang onto any scrap of professionalism left in you. The only thing you could do now was write up the new appointments for next week. Or perhaps play some Solitaire.

Anything to stop you thinking about him.

You twisted your lips into a scowl.

This was so unbelievable. Lee Minho was the greatest, most notorious asshole you knew of, yet here you were, like an absolute moron, pondering over him as if he was a lost love. All the time, when it was in meetings, or just bumping each other in the office breakroom, he managed to piss you off without effort, watching you enraged with a disgustingly ravishing smile on his revoltingly beautiful face. It was so, goddamn unfair, that he could rile you up so easily when all you could do was make him more amused.

To hell with him and his fine ass, you thought as you closed all tabs, opening up Solitaire.

Just as you thought you found a moment’s peace in this building, you heard the phone ring drastically loud, stopping you from completing a full set of one deck. Already irritated, you tried to suppress it as you picked up the handset, pressing it to your ear. “Minho and Company?”

The voice that greeted your ears made it incredibly hard to reign in your irritation. “Have you finished the list?”

“No,” was your clipped reply. You focused on the game, matching the cards to the deck of hearts.

“And when will this list finish?”

“I’m a busy woman, you know,” you drawled, aggressively clicking on your mouse. “You give me so much work it’s hard to keep up.”

“Oh, really?” Fuck him, you could hear the taunting in his voice. “So you don’t spend all day playing those stupid Windows games on your work computer?”

Your anger paused, eyes widening. The lack of response had the man cackling through the phone. “I bet you’re on that same card game you always play when you’re trying to avoid my tasks. What was the name again?”

“I can assure you, sir, I am not playing Solitaire.” You then sucked in an agitated breath at your mistake.

“Ah, that’s right.” You hated how you could hear the smirk playing on his lips. “Playing Solitaire and ignoring my work.”

Were you mistaken, or had his voice descended an octave? With the way you bit your lip, you knew you were caught anyway. “I’ll get the list done.”

“Mmm,” he got out, the low baritone still there. “And address me properly when you talk to me.”

Oh my God. “I’ll get the damned list done, sir.”

A small pause. “Good girl.”

And the line cut off.

Your hand nearly went limp holding the phone.

Good girl.

“Shut the fuck up,” you muttered, slamming the handset back in its place, feeling yourself heat up a frightening rate. “Cocky prick.”

All those curses towards him, and yet your cheeks still burned.

You did not cease your profanity — this time aiming more towards your own self.

Dear Lord. You really were in for it this time.

MINHO AND MISS KIM WERE STILL IN THAT ROOM BY THE TIME YOU HAD TO LEAVE THE OFFICE.

You decided to stay a little longer, finishing up the last of the tasks he’d assigned to you, and an hour later, when Seungmin passed your desk to exit the building, he darted his eyes to his boss’ door and wiggled his brows your way.

“Shut up,” you snapped at him, earning a cheeky smile.

“I wonder what they’re doing in there,” he thought out loud, propping a hand on your table.

You typed away, trying to dismiss the worst assumptions in your mind. “I don’t particularly care.”

Seungmin, damn him, could see right through you. “Then why are you still here? Pretending that I didn’t catch you with your ear to the door hours before?”

Unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. About three hours into the meeting, you became so restless you tried to listen in on what exactly was going on. It sounded so bizarre, when Minho had to sit in hours-long meetings every other day, but him alone in his office with that girl didn’t settle well with you.

“Oh, jealousy!” Seungmin chanted, pointing at your face. “Is that you I see before me?”

“Go away!” you waved him off, glowering at him. “I’m not jealous of some girl I saw today. Her and Minho can do whatever they want.”

“Whatever you say, ____,” he said, but the knowing smile lingered, aggravating you even more. “Good night.”

“Good night, Min,” you muttered, waiting for the man to turn out of the building before swinging in your chair.

The door welcomed you still.

You bit the inside of your cheek. Now see, you should not be letting your mind wander. Especially in situations which included your boss, another girl, and closed doors. Your gut twisted at the thought, and you were surprised at such a reaction.

What if Seungmin was right?

“No!” you whispered furiously to yourself, turning back to your computer. “Not jealous, just curious.”

Yes, that’s right. Just interested to know what the fuck they’re talking so long for.

“Oh God,” you breathed out, pressing your legs together. Maybe your friend was right. “Shit.”

Suddenly, you got up from your seat, picking up any scrap of paper and hurrying to the door. Pressing your ear to the misted glass, fingers clasping the metal handle. You could hear soft murmurs, a little laughter, but other than that, you failed to hear anything coherent.

This brought you even more agitation upon you. Doing something wrong, and it wasn’t even going as planned. This is what happened when you let yourself feel something.

Oh, no. Now you even admitted it to yourself that you had felt something for the asshole. If he ever heard of this, you would probably have to quit this job.

You pressed harder on the handle, never been more frustrated in your life than you were at that time. You were pathetic. Utterly disgraceful, but you could not help when you could not deny that Lee Minho-

You could not finish the thought.

Not when your hand slid on the handle too hard, swinging open the door. You let out a shrill screech as you stumbled inside the office, papers leaving your hands.

The conversation ceased, and you did not need to see them to know their eyes were on you.

Minho’s honey voice filled the room.

“What is this intrusion?”

You looked up, and felt your heart stop.

There he was, sitting leaned back at his plush executive chair, spinning a pen between his fingers. His brown locks were now raked back, a few strays cascading on the side of his forehead. His blazer was off, hung on his chair, and his shirt was tight on his hard chest.

Steadying yourself, but not your butterflies inside, you also saw Miss Kim hovering over him, showing him a few documents with her head a little close to his. She glanced up at you, and her face soured.

Minho snapped his fingers, shaking you out of your staring. “I asked you a question, ____.”

You wanted to snap at him, but reigned it in. “Sorry, but…”

But what? Not like you came in here with a plan.

Your eyes slid down to fallen files on the floor. “I needed to discuss...a proposal!”

Kneeling down, you picked up the scattered pieces of paper, on your feet in an instant. “Yes. A business proposal I needed to talk about.”

The man was not stupid; he saw right through your feeble excuse, with the impish gleam in his gaze. “Is that so?”

“What else would it be?” you pressed, masking your growing nerves with your irked frown.

His lips began to curve. You both stared each other down, refusing to back away. Miss Kim cleared her throat, even more angered by you now receiving his full attention.

“Shall I continue or…?” she carried off, completely deprived of his regard. Only when you glanced at her did his smile waver, raising the file.

He kept his eyes on you. “We can review this later,” he said to Miss Kim. He then addressed you. “And this time I’ll have an actual meeting planned. Happy,  ____?”

You couldn’t suppress a scoff, not gone unnoticed yet unaddressed, as the woman took the files from him. She sent him a dazzling smile. “I will see you later, Mr. Lee.”

He returned it with a nod, watching her stroll past you, and out of the office. You watched the door close itself, sensing the silence more now the two of you were alone.

The quiet stretched on for longer before a hard sigh had you facing your boss once again.

“Beautiful, isn’t she,” he began, observing you from his rather messy desk.

That little comment of his pissed you right off. “The prettiest, in my opinion,” you crowed, gripping onto the files harder.

You then caught the shit-eating grin upon his face, and marred your face in a frown, causing him to splutter into laughter.

“Stop laughing,” you spat, but that only made him more breathless. “Oh, I’m leaving!”

“No you’re not,” he rasped out, finally calming down.  He raised a hand across the chair before his desk. “You’re going to sit down and tell me of the proposals.”

A retort was on your tongue when you stopped, taking in his order. “Proposals?”

He cocked his head slightly, stray hairs tumbling with the action. “You said when you burst into my office that-”

He halted himself, everything falling into place.

When he focused on you this time, your stomach coiled at the way his smirk lit up his face. “Are you telling me you pretended to have appointments so you’d have that woman out of my room?”

The lack of response on his question had the man chortling. “My, my. Why so jealous, doll?” He gripped onto the arms of his chair, leaving the seat. “If you wanted me alone all you had to do was ask.”

Taking a step away from the desk, his fingers drummed on the table. “I wouldn’t have insisted on making an appointment either.”

A last surge of courage passed through you, especially from his words. “And what would you have done?” you got out.

The drumming paused, more from surprise at your question.

His piercing stare positively flared. “I don’t think you’d be able to handle it,” he guttered.

I don’t think you’d be able to handle it.

You didn’t know why that enraged you so much.

The cat and mouse game, once again being deflated by his words, leaving you disappointed. Why should you accept defeat this time?

You made sure he heard your thoughts.

“God, you really are a fucking prick!”

A pause. “Why would that be?” He took a step towards you, sharp brows furrowing.

“You…” staring at him, you screwed your face up in anger. “Toying with me all this time, yet doing nothing about it!”

That fine eyebrow was raised, but you carried on, refusing to let him speak. “Every single day, without fail, we see each other, bicker back and forth, and for what? Me all frustrated and you just enjoying it?”

You made sure you knifed your boss with a glare. “You just say words and leave. That’s all you can do.”

There was an eerie stillness after that — a slight shift in Minho’s demeanour, as his eyes narrowed, darkened at your claim. His hands, in his pockets before, slid out, and you saw they were fisted tightly.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me perfectly, sir,” you spat, that damned word he made sure you said every time . “You’re all bark and no bite.

“You’re a fucking coward.”

There it was.

The allegation against him. The words you’ve been wanting to say for so long, because you let yourself feel something for this man, and fuck, if he did not do anything about it you would quit this job here and now.

His next words were a mere whisper. They did not possess a hint of softness.

“Do you really think that?”

Another step.

Veins, slight before, we’re now more visible on his hands, trailing all the way up to the edge of the rolled up sleeves. When you caught his gaze, you nearly gasped at the pure, carnal fire that blazed within.

“Calling me a coward.”

Before you knew it, the man thundered towards you, and those veiny hands gripped your waist, pulling you to him in an iron grip. A small hiss escaped you at the sudden restraint.

“Don’t you dare call me a fucking coward again.”

His breath fanned your mouth, you mere inches from him. You made sure you kept your ground till the very end. Wherever that led you.

“Or what?” Your hands slid up to his shoulders. “Not like you would do anything. As per usual.”

And as the heavy silence reigned on the both of you, you had a little realisation.

Those words might have just been your undoing.

Because the second they left your tongue, Lee Minho growled fiercely before colliding his lips against yours.

His mouth snatched the very breath from you, an instant whine trying to escape yet refused by his lips, capturing yours and taking you with the strength of a wild beast. You nearly fell backwards from the pure momentum but were saved by his hands on you, branding their place on your skin.

The most surprising part was how you kissed him back with the same anger. The same rage which simmered the very first day you argued with him, and vowed to make his life a living hell, just like how he made yours unbearable during work. He captured your lower lip and began sucking on the flesh, and an obscenely loud moan escaped you at the contact.

The bastard was good. He was so, fucking good.

Just when you thought he’d go deeper, he pulled away, a thin bridge of saliva connecting the both of yours lips.

The trail broke when he took a step back, settling himself on his seat. That glistening mouth curved into a feline smirk, thumb stroking his lower lip.

“Still a coward, doll?”

You nearly collapsed without his hold. He took notice of your position, and scoffed at your weakness. “Looks like you took up the role instead.”

“How is that,” you rasped out, breath still uneven.  “When you’re the one who stopped to sit down?”

Taking a step before him, your knees brushed against his own. “Looks like grandpa needs a rest.”

The comment had Minho’s eyes set ablaze. “You fucking—”

His hands reached out, tugging you upon him as he stayed seated. Your legs kneeled on either side of him, straddling him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, willingly accepting his lips. They worked so hypnotically with yours that you did not realise them opening your mouth completely, with his tongue sliding inside. He explored everywhere, finding your own tongue and swirling it along with his, ruining any chance of you suppressing your groaning at his actions.

Perhaps Minho took notice of your stubbornness, because his hands landed on your thighs, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt. You let the groan free as he hitched the fabric higher, higher, higher, removing himself from your lips and descending down, pouncing on a particular patch of skin on your neck.

“Already so—” he sucked hard on your neck, revelling in your whines, “—already so loud when I’ve only just kissed you?”

“Fuck you,” you breathed out, digging his nails into his shirt. He cackled at your response, sinking his teeth and creating the first bruise of the evening.

“I’m gonna have to teach you some manners,” he whispered onto your skin, raising your skirt high enough that your intricate lacing of your lingerie, black as the night, began to show. Minho practically salivated at the image; you knew from the raging lining beneath his trousers.

“All talk,” you merely said, despite the uneven breathing. “All talk and no action.”

His thumbs pressed into your thighs, ceasing your words with a little whine. It had the man capturing your lips again, pulling you down with his hands on your legs, closing any distance between you two, needing to have you all over him. Your lips swelled, bruised by the rough handling of your boss’ mouth, ravaging you in ways you didn’t dare dream of. His fingers, trailing up your skin once again, curled under the waistband of your underwear.

Your heart hammered in your chest at his touch. He was being too slow, too damn slow while you dripped with the beginning of arousal, making you a shuddering mess.

Lee Minho was about to slide the lace down when a shrill call flooded the room.

Both of you stopped dead in your tracks. The man whirled to the origins of the sound, coming from his wide open laptop — a notification for joining a meeting call popped up on the screen, automatically picking up in about five seconds.

Your boss nearly had a heart attack.

With quick thinking, Minho pried you off him, practically dumping you upon the floor with a slight groan. His hands gathered you under the table, pressing a finger to your lips with a stern look before disappearing up on his desk.

You let out a deliberately loud scoff just before he accepted the call, fingers swiping down to pinch you for calling out. You could not see his face, only from the navel down, sat right before you, caging you with his legs.

“Ah, Mr. Lee!”

A gasp almost escaped you, but remembered his glare and actually stopped. One make out session and you already obeyed him like a servant.

Over your dead body.

Your boss’ low growl had you widening your eyes. “What do you want, Chan?”

The hazy answer revealed his employee’s concern. “Mr. Lee, are you okay?” You heard him say through the laptop speaker.

You saw Minho’s leg start bouncing rapidly, and although you could not see his expression, you knew that he was, most definitely, pissed off. “I’m perfect. Fantastic even. Now what do you want?”

You were ready to sit still, wait through the meeting as Chan’s uncertain voice spoke of some specific business deals that needed to be confirmed, few details that needed to be checked over. However, the way your arousal still dripped, ever so slowly, was a weight, reminding you of the activities occurring mere moments before. You didn’t even bother to pull your skirt down.

It was settled. You needed this problem of yours solved now, or never.

Fortunately for you, your solution was presented to you, right before your eyes, and right between Minho’s legs.

His cock still stood, erect against the lining of his trousers.

You gulped at the sight. The bastard was mean, flaunting it all before you, knowing you would have thrust it straight in your mouth if you hadn’t been interrupted.

A spark ignited within you. Why should it stop you now?

Oh God. Why were you suddenly becoming so bold? Was it you, being so turned on that you needed your needs met without wait? Whatever the reason, you found nothing to argue against it.

If Minho was playing games with you, then you would play along with him.

Hands stretching on the floor, you crawled towards him, settling yourself between the space his legs created. Kneeling slightly, your fingers extended towards the zipper on his trousers, prying it down.

The man stilled under your touch.

Head protruding from the edge of the table, you spied Minho’s eyes, ever so carefully darting down to you, his mouth parting slightly under the cover of his hand. He hummed at Chan’s words, but you knew his interest was rooted only to you and your daring fingers.

When you unzipped his trousers, ready to peel them down, his other hand, out of the sight of the laptop, caught your wrist. His grip dug into your skin, stopping you in your tracks.

You looked up at him, making sure you expose your desperation in your eyes. His own widened, only for a second before dragging them back on the screen. A smirk curved onto your lips, knowing he was so affected by your mere actions. How you dared to toy with your boss.

The pout-like expression paid off, when the grip on your wrist loosened. Hurriedly your hands went to the waistband of his trousers, pulling the fabric down, and you had to commend Minho’s ability to look so calm when you were practically drooling at the sight that welcomed you.

You did not even bother to pull the pants right down, stopping just under his knees as you admired his finely sculpted thighs. It was no secret that your boss worked out everyday after he was done with meetings, and every time you caught evidence of his toils you wished you didn’t inwardly moan at the sight. His taut muscle stretched all the way up to his underwear, slightly soiled at the tip of his dick, outlined against the fabric.

Minho glanced down for a second at his antics, and when he looked back at the laptop again there was a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“Chan, hurry and finish this up,” he jeered.

This was enough signal to start peeling his boxers down too.

Your eyes nearly popped out of your sockets when you saw his cock spring free, curving proudly with its tip inches from his abdomen. The top glistened with the pre-cum, trailing down the length.

Oh dear God.

Your index, on instinct, reached out, cutting the white trail as you journeyed up the shaft. Minho’s low, barely audible growl had you shivering.

“Mr. Lee, you don’t look so well,” you heard the hazy worry of your coworker. You couldn’t help the giggle, and Minho’s side glare had you grinning.

He was not the one in control at the moment.

“I said I’m fine, Chan,” he snapped, and when you swiped up the remaining pre-cum on the head his dick twitched, a choked breath escaping. “Perfectly fine!”

“Uh, okay, then, this won’t take much longer…”

You, on the other hand, were just getting started.

Fingers, first stroking up the shaft, now wrapped around his cock, and with your heart in your throat you began a slow rhythm of sliding your hand up and down. Glancing up, you caught the colour of his face draining, using every ounce of his strength not to groan out loud.

You savoured the harsh tick in his jaw, quickening your pace and watched the man lose his cool, nerves in his neck protruding. Oh God, he was on the edge of his patience. It only encouraged your risky behaviour, dick hardening even more beneath your touch.

Still, there was no vocal outcry, to your irritation. You wanted to embarrass him during his meeting. Make him shut that laptop and moan out what he’s feeling. With these goals in mind, you cupped the base, and snuck a little closer, your face mere inches from his cock.

Taking one last peek at his paled face, you brought out your tongue and slid it along the head.

A soft groan emitted from your boss.

Chan’s monologuing of events paused, but the look on Minho’s face had him hurriedly continuing, while you progressed on, lapping up the remaining pre-cum you couldn’t catch with your index. You were never fond of the taste, but you took it in anyway, just to see the bastard’s mouth part in a way which had you almost leaking too.

Done with the soft, kitty licks, you hung on to your courage as you opened your mouth a little wider, taking in the head with your lips. Your hands stay wrapped around his cock as you, slowly, so slowly, went down, taking in inch by inch.

Minho’s fist smacked against the desk.

“Mr. Lee—”

“Ask me again, and you’re fired,” your boss guttered, hips sliding forward to push his cock further into your mouth. You nearly gagged at the action, but take it all in, obliging him because then you created a pattern of bobbing your head. Up and down, going easy, relaxed at first, you were sure Lee Minho was going to bring down his office.

But he didn’t.

And all because of that fucking meeting.

Suddenly angered, you did not bother fastening your pace, ready to give him blue balls for not reacting to your touches. Your mouth was back on top, lips still wrapped around the head, when you looked up at your boss through your lashes.

He stared down at you. Widened his eyes at the sight of you still enveloping his cock with your mouth, your gaze revealing the irritation of his lack of response.

Oh, he’ll give you something to work with.

His hand immediately when to the back of your head, stopping you from leaving as the other hand grabbed at the laptop screen.

Chan knew exactly what he was about to do. “Mr. Lee, I still have one more thing—”

You did not hear anymore, hearing the sharp SNAP! of the laptop shutting.

The silence returned, but did not stay for long as, gradually, Minho looked down at you, properly this time, and offered you such a lust-filled stare you were glad you did not leave your place upon his cock.

“Did you really think, doll,” he whispered, running his fingers through your hair, “That I was going to let you leave me? Just like that?”

You did not answer back — obviously, because your mouth was a little occupied, but you raised your brows at him, hands tightening at his base. He let out a shuddered breath, chuckling.

“Still a brat, hmm? At least you’re not talking back.”

He tugged harder at your locks. “If this was the way to shut you up, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Although your cheeks burned, you made sure to shut him up when you started your flow once again, closing your eyes as you went up and down on him.

Only this time, you had a little assistance.

Minho’s groaning roamed the room, like sweet music to your ears as you gradually fastened, working his dick with your hands too. Instinctively, the man bucked his hips into you, needing to have all of his inches in your mouth, needing to release all that pent up frustration that you created for him.

He said as much.

“Look at you,” he rasped up at you, curling away flyaways from your face as you worked on him. “Taking all of my cock…ah, all of my cock in your pretty little mouth.”

His filth was encouragement, and as you were sucking harder you could tell he was getting near. Pride washed over you, as your one of your hands reached out to play with his balls, earning a harsh moan from his lips.

“Ah—keep going, doll,” he rasped, his hips straying from a solid rhythm, knowing he’s going to let go soon if you kept up at this rate. “Doing so well.”

Perhaps these pieces of praise had you looking up, making sure he was watching as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him all in fully, a slight curve to your lips.

The absolute sin in the image of you kneeling before him, with his full length in you, had him crying out. He could not control the release that shot into your throat, pouring down and making you gag at its suddenness. Still, you took it all in, accepted the cum instead of spitting it out.

When he was finished, slightly heaving, his eyes danced at you slowly swallowing it down, a challenge in the quirk of your brow. Sweat beaded down at your forehead, but knowing you had Minho moaning over your skill was something to take pride in.

Lapping up the remaining cum, you swiped it off with the back of your hand. “Nice meeting, sir?”

The man could only laugh at your comment, so normal despite the situation. ”Adequate,” he drawled, pulling his boxers and trousers up as he cleaned off his dick. “But there’s still much to discuss.”

He wheeled his chair back, arms wrapping around you to free you from under the desk. You were glad of his help, for your legs were near-buckling. He noticed this too, for a smirk began to play on his lips.

Leaving you for a just a moment, he turned to his desk. He threw all his work off the top, paper and stationary flying from the table and scattering onto the floor. His laptop was thrusted at the ends of the table, unable to be a distraction.

“Hey, your papers will be all messed up,” you started, but he surprised you with a heart-searing kiss, making you almost collapse. You let his tongue slide inside instantly, hands gripping harder onto your hips as he tasted his release on your tongue, and when he roughly tugged on your lower lip, you gasped lightly at the harsh treatment.

He backed you further, the back of your upper thighs hitting his desk, and when he left your lips, his dark gaze had you weakened.

“I don’t really give a fuck about the papers right now, doll.”

You would have leaked out your arousal there and then. “Minho—”

“Did I tell you to call me Minho?” He demanded, fingers digging into your hips. Dazed, you tilted your head, only wanting his tongue down your throat again.

Catching the expression, he shook his head. “I’ll let you off today because you’re being a good little bitch this time.”

Dear God, you hated how you loved being called that.

His tongue working on your neck had you whimpering. “It’s sir to you, understand?”

You already had a counterpoint to piss him off with, but the animalistic threat in his eyes had you gulping. “Yes sir.”

The title had him going hard all over again. He teethed another hickey onto your skin, finding solace in the crook of your neck.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten you all wet for me before, doll,” he whispered, hands sliding down, gripping the hem of your skirt. He hurriedly hitched it upwards, bunching it at your hips.

His fingers skimmed over your thighs before feeling the soft silk of your black lingerie, a familiar sight. “Ah, see?” His sole index traced over the front, dipping the fabric in your slit, already staining with your arousal. “All wet, just for me.”

“Stop it,” you whined, hands on his shoulders. “Stop teasing.”

“Since when do you order me around, ____?” He crowed, palming your clothed cunt, completely ignoring your demands. A ragged breath escaped you at the friction, so pleasurably wonderful you feared what would happen to you when he plays with you without the thin layer.

His attitude, however, still pissed you right off.

“I’ll be dried up by the time you start,” you seethed at him, nails digging into his shoulders. Provoking him was your only option, to get him to stop beating around and rail you on his desk.

“I don’t think so, doll,” he purred, other hand playing with the bands of your panties. You were about to snap when he hooked a finger over the hem of the lace and slid the underwear right down, just above your knee, and your breathing hitched as you found his gaze rooted to your now exposed cunt, already glistening from your arousal.

Minho’s mouth was practically salivating.

Despite the nerves growing in your belly, you still snapped him out of his mind drooling. “Are you going to just keep staring? Because that isn’t going to make me cum.”

His eyes slid to you, and shit, you could tell how much he wanted to beat your ass for your useless commentary. “Don’t make me shut you up again.”

“Talk, talk, talk,” you provoked, grabbing hold of his black tie.

A primal growl emitted from his throat, and when his fingers began skimming over the surface, you let out a whimper. “Oh, so my little doll wants to cum all over my fingers, then?” he muttered, eyes gleaming with an indecipherable goal.

His dirty words, along with him playing over your folds, had your stomach all knotted up. It was this tight feeling which had you breathing out, “Yes sir.”

The title at the end which had him slipping the first finger inside of you.

The feeling of his index sliding inside had you moaning much too loud for an action so small. Minho thoroughly enjoyed your reaction, finger almost fully inside when he palmed your core as well, already had you halfway there to your own undoing.

When his finger was up to the knuckle, his other hand found refuge in your locks, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your throat. He began to slowly pull out, creating the same gradual rhythm you had when your mouth was on his cock before. When only the pad of his finger was inside, he thrust back in, making you whine at the rush.

If that was not enough, a second finger joined in on his labour, stretching your walls and you hissed at the snugness of his digits in your cunt, continuing that pattern which had you crying out from pure ecstasy. Damn the bastard, but he was so good at making you helpless.

A deep feeling settled in your gut, and you knew if he kept up at this, you were going to cum all over him. “I-I’m close,” you got out, wrapping your hand around the tie further, pulling him even closer.

Minho, satisfied with creating a painting of lovebites upon your neck, locked your gaze with his. You were surprised to find sinister mischief in his eyes. “My babydoll is going to cum, now?” he questioned, further puzzled to hear softness in his usual fire-like voice. You nodded desperately, praying that he finger-fucks you after this calm. All you desired now was sweet release.

Which was why you cried out in protest when he slipped his fingers out entirely.

Your lust-hazed eyes looked at him, all wide. “Wh-what?”

The arousal-stained fingers gripped your thigh, a small yelp escaping you. The man’s other hand gripped your chain, making sure you don’t break his carnal stare. “You don’t get to cum unless I say so.”

You nearly sobbed as you felt your orgasm start to fade. You knifed him with a glare, pulling him a hair’s breadth from you with the tie. “What the fuck is up with that, sir?”

His grip on your chin tightened. “Don’t argue back, doll.”

The two digits were pushed inside you once again, and still, damn your senses, your breathing hitched. “If I see release on my fingers, I’ll fuck the orgasm up, understand?”

Although the nerves were back, you wished looks could kill when you stared at him. So he’s going to keep toying with you, then?

Well. Two could play that game.

You convinced him with a timid smile, wrapping your hand around his tie all the way. “As you say, sir.”

Delighted at your response, he struck up that hypnotic flow of his fingers, slowly pumping inside of you. Of course, you relished the way he worked within you, knowing he was waiting for the final cry when he hit a specific spot, but you had to show him your place.

Instead of moaning down the office, like you wished you would, your stubbornness silenced you completely.

Even when Minho fastened his pace, making it incredibly hard for you to stay rigid, you gave him a taste of his own medicine, not a single whine escaping you, just the way he stayed angrily quiet in the meeting. His tie was your only source of venting out your frustration, pulling on it so harshly you wondered how the man’s neck hadn’t given in yet.

A strange sense of hysteria bubbled within you when your boss noticed your silence. Snarling, he dug deeper, and when he hit your g-spot, your eyes nearly burst out of your sockets.

“Being a fucking brat again?” he retorted, fingers playing with the spot until finally, a soft whine came free of your tongue. “Trying to mock me?”

You took in a ragged breath, hair a mess, courtesy of his hand. You glared and glared, but still, you refused to say anything. Refused to say a word, and when you saw his mouth twist into a scowl you savoured his anger.

He ripped his hand from your tie, loosening it from his neck. He straightened it out, every action fuelled with aggression. It made your whole body crawl with excitement.

You parted your mouth to piss him off even more when you suddenly felt a mouthful of silk, completely stopping you. Trying to whine, the tie knotted behind your head, and Minho pulled so hard it nearly stopped your blood circulation.

“Didn’t want to moan, huh?” he guttered, tying up a pretty knot beneath your locks. “Tried to be smart, did you?

The tie wedged inside your mouth stopped you from answering back, Minho taking great satisfaction in your broken mumbling. “Oh, so you wanna talk now?” he mocked, slowly descending, until his face was at level with your cunt. He looked up, and the sight had you shutting up immediately. “No, we’ll play your little game.”

His eyes resembled a demon’s. “One fucking word from you and you’ll be sorry,” he warned, hands, now on your thighs, squeezing the muscle. The anger was so cold you only nodded erratically, fingers gripping the edge of the table.

Spreading your legs a slight, he closed the distance, tongue opening the seams and licking the surface.

You could not help the stifled moan which worked its way out the gag.

Retracting at your reaction, he glanced up, fingers digging into your skin. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he growled, trailing down your inner thigh. That command alone had you in near tears.

He didn’t wait for your incoherable answer as he dived right back in, tongue now licking your clit in a way which had you seeing stars, along with the added assault of his two digits pumping your core. He immediately found your sweet spot and curled his fingers, knowing you would melt right on his face.

Because the gag worked wonders in ceasing your words, you had to vent out your release through gripping Minho’s hair, pushing further, begging him to just let you cum all over his face. The man was a mean prick, though, and wouldn’t ever give you that satisfaction.

His fingers increased their tempo, in and out, and your orgasm was right on the edge, threatening to wash over you if he didn’t stop. You whined as much as you could this time, praying he understood what you meant, and not just you provoking him further.

You tried to curse yourself at how pathetic you were in that state, but you were honestly so fucked out you didn’t particularly care. All you wanted now was for Minho to ruin you.

The man, taking notice of your cries, paused his licking, fingers still at their thrusting. His eyes still up at your ravaged state, and you nearly undid yourself at the pure pride that shone in his gaze. “Does my little brat wanna cum all over my face?” he cooed darkly, and you could not nod fast enough, earning a husky chuckle from him.

“Will you talk back?” God, an even faster shake of your head, eyes glistening. “You better fucking not.” he sighed, blowing on your cunt which had you wailing into the silk. “Well, since the gag’s still on…”

He offered you a small grin, enough to drive you insane.

“Go on then, you fucking slut. Cum on my face.”

His mouth was upon your cunt in seconds, just in time for you crying out into the tie-gag as you released your orgasm, creating a mess of him as you spilled yourself onto his tongue, his chin, everywhere, barely avoiding the office floor. Minho slowed his pumping inside, eventually ceasing as he took in your release, pulling away.

You caught the slight spillage scattered on his chin, and he slid his tongue down, looking up at you with feline amusement. “All that bitching, and you still cummed,” he mused, soothing your throbbing with his fingers. “Still gonna call me a coward?”

He stood, his clothed hard on rubbing against your folds, and you knew you that despite the orgasm, you needed more. His mere fingers, however heavenly, were not enough.

His one hand cupped your head while the other tugged on the gag, pulling it down from your mouth. You coughed lightly at the freedom, desire swirling in your features still. “I…” you started, but your throat still hurt. “I…”

“Use you words, doll,” he ordered, unravelling the knot on his tie behind you. “God knows you use them too well.”

“F-fuck...you,” you rasped out, causing him to raise a brow.

“Still got attitude?” He traced his thumb over your cheek. “Despite you whining like a little bitch to let you cum?”

His hands left your face, sliding to your thighs as he gripped onto them, having you sit on the desk. He then moved down further, tossing your lingerie before wrapping your legs around his waist.

Leaning in, his chuckle tickled your lips. “Guess I’m gonna have to fuck the brat out of you.”

That alone would have had you moaning if Minho didn’t shut you up with a rough kiss, fingers sloppily unbuttoning your shirt. He sucked on your tongue, failing to take the shirt off, and with a harsh groan ripped the parting, buttons popping to the floor. He peeled the attire off you, dumping it with your panties, and when he pulled away, he took in your intricately laced bra, and his malice was replaced with pure, unadulterated lust.

“God, I’m going to ruin you, doll.”

You answered with capturing his mouth, nibbling on his bottom lip, his clothed boner creating friction against your inner thighs. His hands ravaged all over your exposed skin, while your own returned the favour, unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off. You ran your fingers up his abdomen, the granite solidity having you rolling your hips against him. Smiling against your lips, you felt his hands descend, gripping at the underside of your thighs before he lifted you up.

You gasped lightly, wrapping your hands around his neck as Minho, while leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, collarbone, tongue sliding along, turned around, your back to the full view of the nightlife of the city, revealed through floor length windows of his office all around. Walking towards it, he backed you up against the glass, the cold sending shivers down your spine. That, and Minho leaving core-shaking kisses upon your skin, as he began to unhook your bra strap, tearing the lingerie off you.

“Minho!” you exclaimed, when he planted his lips upon your bare breast, sole finger playing with the other. Hearing his name had him grinding against you, making you whimper.

He went up, erratic breathing entering your ears. “It’s sir to you,” he snapped, before diving back in on your breast, licking over your nipple so thoroughly that you felt that overgrowing need to release once again. Again, with the teasing, the playing, when all you needed was his cock to fill you right up.

“Sir, p-please,” you begged, your legs locked tightly behind him.

“Please what, doll?” he hissed onto your skin, one hand tracing your throat.

One more thrust of his hips and your eyes pricked with tears. “P-please fuck me, sir,” the knots in your belly growing.

“Finally,” he breathed out, thumbing your neck, softly compared to the hard on you were practically sitting on. “You’re not being a little bitch.”

One hand still clasped around his neck, you brought the other down to his trousers. Looking up at him, he almost softened.

“Now you’re asking permission?” he cooed, straying from your breasts. “Being a good girl for me?”

You never had an idea on how much that affected you. “Don’t push it,” you countered, a tired smirk still playing on your lips.

“Go on, doll,” he said, hitching you higher on the glass, moistening with the sweat beading down your back. “But I like you better when you beg.”

“Let’s see if you-ah!” you were cut off when you pulled his trousers down, and his cock tried to burst from his stained underwear, rubbing against your cunt much too deliciously. “Fuck me hard enough.”

“Stop running your mouth and pull my boxers off,” he ordered, and this you willingly obliged, careful of your leg-lock as you peeled them down to his knees, he getting them clean off. When his cock sprung free, you were salivating at the sight, angry red and ready to have it inside of you.

When he caught your blatant staring, he snapped his fingers. “Careful, or you’ll start cumming without my permission.”

Your widened eyes darted to him, and your lack of response had him actually laughing. “Already forgotten your words?” he mocked, fingers gripping your chin. “My babydoll is getting dumb staring at my cock.”

“Please, sir,” you murmured, locking your hands behind his neck. “P-please fuck me.”

Minho let out a pleasured sigh at your pleading. “As you wish, ____.”

Pressing his forehead against yours, he clasped his cock, directing the tip to your entrance, already staining the surface with its pre-cum. His other hand gripped onto your hip, steadying you against the glass, now slightly misted.

“Ready?” he asked, surprised to hear a little softness as he caressed your hip with his thumb.

You nodded against his forehead, parting your mouth. “Yes, sir.”

A little scoff escaped him. “Good girl.”

That was all he needed before he began the final descent.

His cock slid inside, and your breathing turned irregular as your walls stretched slightly at the intrusion. He went further and further, moving ever so slowly to let you adjust. Lord knows you needed to, when his dick was so big.

“O-oh my God—” you stumbled out, feeling as if the man had filled you right up to your gut when he was finished. You kept deathly still, fearing you might shatter if you even moved the wrong way.

“It’s okay, doll,” he reassured you, hand leaving his cock and settling upon your other hip. “Whenever you’re set.”

“I’m good,” you said, more scared that you would cum right onto his dick if he tried to move inside you. “Stop worrying and...and fuck me already.”

His thumbs pressed harder on your sides, a pleasured sting ringing. “Now I won’t regret it if you can’t walk after this.”

A ragged scoff escaped you. “We’ll see about that-”

Well, you really couldn’t when Minho began to pull out.

Your mockery was cut off with a shrill cry, hold tightening on him as his cock slowly slid out. The gradual process was so pleasurable you had to hold onto him for dear life, or you knew you would collapse onto the office floor. The man made sure that never happened, grip on your sides never slipping, pressing you against the warming glass.

“I’ve only just started,” he drawled breathlessly, still relishing how loud you were being despite him merely beginning. “Has my babydoll never been fucked before?”

You had, but never had anyone made you so weakened by a simple pull out. In fact, your sexual life was average at best, but you telling him that he would, by far, be the biggest mistake. He’s already got an ego the size of his cock - you were not going to inflate it any larger.

“H-have been,” you gasped out. “B-better even.”

That false claim had him knitting his brows in anger. He thrusted his dick right back in, and another whine choked out of you.

“Liar,” he spat, filling you right to the brim. “Lying to me when my cock’s inside you.”

God, the rage that filled his veins was pure ecstasy in your mind. Good, you thought, making sure you chuckled at him. Provoke him till he breaks you.

“H-he was so much-argh!” you just couldn’t get a word out when he began to pull out once more, Minho now attacking your neck with his lips, bruised patches of your skin as he started up a painfully delightful rhythm of pushing and pulling his cock into you.

“Go on, you fucking brat,” he snarled onto your throat, licking up the column. “Try and tell me there was anyone better.”

You were on to tell him, gloat breathlessly that there were all these obviously real people who had fucked you into oblivion, but when his fingers began to prod at your clit those lies were replaced with thundering mewls, nails digging into his back.

Fastening his pace, you rolled your eyes back, head hitting the glass. Minho, watching you, slammed his hips forward, hitching you upward with the sheer force of his cock and snapping you out of your haze, making you look at him.

“I asked you something, doll,” he demanded with rich sarcasm, fingers never stopping on your clit, nearly taking you over the edge. When the head of his dick hit a certain spot, deep into your core, you couldn’t even control the slight drool which trailed down your spit-slick lips.

Minho’s dark laughter only had the knots tightening in your belly. “Awww, my babydoll’s so fucked out she can’t even speak?” his mouth curled into a smirk. “Only a useless set of holes for me to toy with, aren’t you?”

You thought you said something, hopefully something to shut him up, but when your orgasm was right at the tip of your cunt you knew it was as the bastard said - useless.

As you predicted, Minho quickened his fingers on your bud. “Worthless fucking bitch,” he mocked mercilessly, practically branding you against the glass. With the sheer anger he fucked you with, you were scared the windows would crack. You wouldn’t put it past him.

“C-close, sir,” you finally got out, managed to formulate the only words you needed at that moment. Your boss, at this, only increased his pace of his erratic thrusts, practically decimating your cunt with his cock. You had a feeling among the lust-filled haze of your mind that he, too, was getting close, with the way his flow turned sloppy.

“And…” he took in a sharp breath. “And what about it?”

Oh, you knew what his last game was. Permission from him, pleading to let you spill your arousal all over his cock.

In any normal circumstance, you would have laughed at their face. Made sure they never asked something so atrocious.

Lee Minho, however, was another case entirely. Not when he was your lifeline, the only one in the universe who could save you from this impending doom. Even though he was the bastard who brought it down on you in the first place.

So you did what possibly no human being could ever ask of you.

You pleaded.

Practically begged to let you feel sweet release.

“Can I…” another soft cry left your lips. “F-fuck, please...can I cum?”

Minho imprisoned you with his gaze. Locks sticking to his forehead, mouth parted in desire, and pupils dilated, you still found him so utterly beautiful, despite the wilderness beneath. Found him even more so when he finally decided to show you some mercy.

“Go on, babydoll. Cum for me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Your vision nearly blacked out when you obliged, orgasm spilling out from the tight spaces between your walls and his cock, dribbling down your legs and dripping onto the office carpet. The sight of your spillage had Minho finishing off his own thrusts, releasing an earth-shattering cry as he barrelled his own release into you, ropes of cum spilling out of your cunt, joining your mess on the floor.

A slight peaceful stillness settled over the office, save for the both of you, breathing as if you had been underwater this whole time. Minho’s cock was still inside you, snug around your moistened walls. Slowly, he pulled it out, hanging limp from use, and your cunt felt hollow, emptier than it has ever felt before.

You unlocked your legs from his waist, immediately regretting the action when they gave out under you. Collapsing onto Minho, you were instantly met with his arms, holding you up.

“Careful,” he muttered, leading you to his chair, settling you down on the plush leather. He pulled his boxers up, along with his trousers, finding your own attire on the floor and placing it on your lap.

Smiling lazily, you started adorning your rather dirtied attire. “A good business proposal, no?” you mused, referring to your terrible excuse at the beginning of the evening.

Remembering, he chuckled, putting on his shirt. “I never bought that anyway, doll,” he merely said, buttoning to the top. “I knew you were jealous.”

Cheeks burning, you mumbled a little shut up, earning yourself a grin from the man. Finding your own shirt useless from Minho ripping it open, you said so to the man. “Look what you’ve done to my top”

He only spared it a glance before grabbing his tie, stained with your saliva. “Look what you’ve done to my tie.”

“That was your own fault,” you remarked, hoping your blazer would cover your front up. “You put the gag on me, prick.”

“Feeling brave already?” Minho purred, already putting you on a familiar edge. “Thought I’d fucked the brat out of you by now.”

Oh, he really did. He truly made you his little bitch not moments ago, and perhaps that would be rooted in you for the future.

But of course, you’re not going to tell him that.

You stood up from his chair, slipping into your heels. His eyes watched you as you walked to the door, opening it wide.

You looked back, catching something akin to wonder in his gaze.

“It’s going to take a little more than that, sir,” you declared, and left the room, closing the door behind you.

And as you prepared to leave the building, Lee Minho stayed rooted in his office, feeling his insides go wild all over.

It’s going to take a little more than that, sir.

Oh, God.

The man scoffed.

“Fucking brat.”

“I DEMAND TO BE LET IN!”

Once again, you rolled your eyes at Miss Kim, who was now adorned in magenta, long boots tapping against the marble floor.

“Mr. Lee is busy, Miss Kim,” you told her for the umpteenth time, refusing to believe that one seemingly intelligent woman, who had her own business, could be so thick-headed. “If you would just sit down—”

“You don’t tell me what to do,” she snapped, pointing an acrylic-painted finger at you. “I am a special client of Mr. Lee’s, and don’t need an appointment.”

You let out a sharp breath through your nose. It had not even been two days before she was back at the office, demanding Minho’s presence for the continuation of her meeting before you interrupted them.

A small smile caught onto your lips. Thank God you did.

“Hey!”

You perked up, brows instantly furrowing. “Miss Kim, just like the last time, I cannot help you. I can only give you entrance inside if you have an official appointment.”

Letting out a harsh laugh, she shook her head, wiggling the same finger at you. “Miss whatever your name is, I don’t like to have my time wasted, and you certainly are wasting my time. If I say I want to see Mr. Lee then you better damn well let me see Mr. Lee!”

Your mouth nearly opened to snap back at her when the glass door beside you swung open, and out stepped the CEO himself, who possessed the same irritation on his face as you did as he leaned his figure against the doorway.

“What is this constant racket?” he complained to no one in particular, and when his eyes fell upon his unofficial client he stopped. “Oh, good afternoon Miss Kim.”

“Mr. Lee, your little assistant is being difficult once again,” the woman declared, glaring at you. “She did this the last time I was here, and even when you let me in she’s doing the same thing again.”

“Oh, really now?” Minho got out. He turned to you, his dashing face exposing slight amusement at the claim. “Is that so, ____?”

You fought the urge to smirk at him. “She does not have an appointment,” you explained, spinning your pencil to avoid his searing gaze. “You told me only to let the people who’ve made appointments enter your office.”

Minho grinned for you. “That I did,” he confessed, eyes sliding to Miss Kim, whose smug smile faltered. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid the rules must be followed.”

The woman’s arrogance faded completely when the words left his mouth, finding herself defeated. “I see,” she said, still souring at the sight of you. “Well, I’ll phone up tomorrow morning.”

“You do that, Miss Kim,” he agreed, and watched as the woman turned on her heel, grumpily exiting the building.

The man found your eyes, and you saw them dance with mischief. You already felt your heartbeat pick up the pace when he walked over to you, planting his hands on your desk. “I need you inside the office, doll.”

Oh my God. “Whatever for, sir?” you asked innocently, trying to focus on your round of Solitaire, stark on the computer screen.

The table creaked underneath his fists at the title. “Let’s say it’s a…” he leaned in a little, careful of his employees beyond the hallway. His voice conveyed a slight husky tone. “A business proposal.”

Shivers crawled down your spine. Fuck him. Fuck him for bringing up your shitty excuse of two days ago. “I hate you,” you whispered harshly to him, despite the nerves.

His eyes never left you. “We’ll see about that when we start the meeting, doll.”

He stood straighter, opening his office door. “Now are you coming in?”

You studied the open door, the hidden opportunity that laid beyond. When you caught the growing lust in his gaze, you pressed your thighs together.

Standing up, you hurried to the doorway, earning chuckling from your boss. “Shut up, asshole,” you hissed, entering the fated office. Seeing the desk already had your cheeks burning.

“It’s sir to you, brat,” he only said, hands already on you as he closed the door.

[notyourordinarylife]

Sooooo, I've found myself in a bit of a slump. I figured it'd be a good time to make a follow-up post to my original about my deep dive into Thai BL (pinned post).

Huge "THANK YOU!!!!" to those of you that offered up suggestions for what to watch.

My previous watched list had me at Lovely Writer, which I absolutely loved. I did take a short break after, but followed it up with Until We Meet Again. Holy shit! I kinda wish I could have experienced watching that one live... it was so fucking good!! (And I can't wait for Between Us!!!) This may get long, but here's a list of what else I've watched, in order:

Tharntype & Tharntype2 (and whatever special episodes there were... I know this one is really controversial, but I couldn't help but fall in love them. And I'm glad I watched this before Love By Chance.)

Love By Chance & A Chance to Love (So I really liked this; I really fell in love with Perth's acting. Pete and Ae are so sweet! I love Can!!! Little baby! But TinCan took some time to warm up to, and I almost didn't watch the next series, but in the end, I'm glad I did... even if it was a bit wonky timeline wise. And Ae, the poor dear, was such a sad boy the entire time.)

Lovesick/2 (this was a pain in the ass to find a watchable version. The first season was great, but the second season was waaay too looooong; I almost gave up. Let me tell you, the only reason I even went looking for this show was because I saw the cast for ReminderS, and I'm an idiot who can't watch things out of order.... But I am glad I watched it. It seems to have been one of the flagship BLs for Thailand, and I felt it handled the stories so well.)

ReminderS (Yeah. I saw that the cast was the main four from LBC, and I really wanted to see them together in something else. I thought it was good for a three episode coda type thing for Lovesick.)

Don't Say No (I haven't finished this yet... I got about halfway through. I'll go back to it eventually because I was enjoying it. I just got distracted...)

He's Coming to Me (LOOOOOOOOVED IT! It was such a sweet show! And it was so well acted!)

Golden Blood (I debated not even mentioning it because I couldn't even get through the first episode... I wasn't really feeling it at the time, so I moved on. I am planning on trying again since I hate DNFing without even finishing the first episode of something.)

I then rewatched 2gether cuz my friend was watching it for the first time.

En Love Tossara & Love Mechanics (I watched these because they were short and had relatively good reviews. They were good. That's it haha)

My Gear & Your Gown (I don't have much to say. It was good.)

Why R U? (I've only just started this recently and am not very far into it. It seems crazy lol)

That's where I am with finished shows. I have four that I'm currently watching live: Enchanté, Something in my Room, Not Me, and Cutie Pie. Enchanté and Cutie Pie I watched from day one, Something in my Room I started when ep3 dropped, and I waited for ep6 to start Not Me. I'm not too invested in Something in my Room, but the others I can't help thinking about between episodes hahahah I'm gonna be a mess next week with the final episode of Not Me.

This got longer than I intended; lots of kudos if you made it this far!

Like I mentioned, I'm in a very unmotivated slump right now when it comes to watching a completed show... I hope it doesn't last long.

[regrettablewritings]

Slapped By Legal (Matt Murdock x Reader)

@locke-writes​ S u f f e r

‘Twas four weeks before Christmas, in a Hell’s Kitchen home, where you sat in the kitchen, feeling downtrodden and boned. Your laptop was open, the window filled with tabs Of all the potential gifts you could feasibly nab. But this was three hours into searching and nary a perfect gift could be found As your brain began contemplating just burning the building to the ground —

Okay, maybe don’t do that. But you would’ve been lying if you’d claimed you weren’t tempted to at least fling your laptop out the window. Buying gifts for one’s boyfriend was usually a point if glee for most couples. You had coworkers who would gush about what they’d gotten their partners, eagerly asking you if you wanted to see it. Even without you courteously saying yes, they would shove their phone into your face, forcing you to not only pretend to be interested, but also to remember that the clock was ticking — and you still didn’t have anything for your own partner.

At face value, Matt would presumably be a relatively easy man to but for. He lived well within his means, both to regard his disability but also because he was just simply a humble person. Most people like that would’ve been satisfied with, like, a bottle of wine.

But not your Matt: Your Matt was Matthew Michael Murdock, a man both blessed and cursed with sensitivities that made his tastes particular — literally. You had to sit on the side of caution when it came to nearly everything: Certain materials felt scratchy on his skin; certain foods and drinks tasted like every step of the factory that had contributed to their production; cologne bothered his nose; and he didn’t much listen to music anyway, so a radio or stereo would’ve been mostly pointless.

You released a loud, aggravated groan as you flopped in your seat. You were pretty positive that no matter where Matt was at this point in time, he probably heard you. Even if it was from Queens.

Fuck this, you thought as you grumpily scrolled further along your current tab. That bastard is getting a gift card. Or a wine-stopper. Or —

And that’s when you saw it. In an instant, your posture turned upright alongside your sense of hope.

— Or that!

Everything about it was perfect: The price, the content, the opportunity -- you simply had to have Matt have it!

Christmas tended to be a rather small affair for the Nelson & Murdock crew. With nobody having any real family to speak of (or, at the very least, any family worth visiting), the four of you were more than happy to make do with your own little traditions: Ordering Thai from down the street, drinking yourselves silly without the guilt, and just plain enjoying one another’s company. Oh, and opening presents together, of course.

And the entire while Foggy and Karen expressed excitement over their gifts, you sat there with a slight hint of smugness just barely nestled inside of you. When they gave Matt his own gift, you couldn’t help but feel some relief: A mug and a paperweight in the shape of an apple. Sure signs that even after all this time, they, too, struggled with what the hell to give the guy who generally wants for nothing.

You didn’t want to silently toot your own horn, but you already knew you had them beat. Hence why you saved the best for last. And although you weren’t quite certain as to how his innate lie detection worked, you couldn’t help but suspect that he was on to you. It was subtle, but it was like it was hidden in the crook of his brow every time he happened to face your direction. Not that he said anything, of course. He wasn’t new to your breed of mischief, after all.

Two could play at this game. All he needed to do was wait patiently until your dramatic self became too overwhelmed with eagerness to bear it.

The gusto with which you presented the parcel was met with further brow-cocking on Matt’s part.

“Matthew,” you spoke, enforcing an exaggeratory accent befitting of an American’s idea of a British butler, “your Yuletide endowment.”

Matt huffed with amusement. “‘Endowment’? What, are we living fancy now?” You made no response, perfectly content to simply watch him rip apart the colorful paper with anticipation. To be perfectly honest, Matt wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from you. Normally, he could tell what something was at a distance. But once boxes and further packaging got involved whatever his senses reported back to him got all fuzzy and muddled.

But surely whatever you’d gotten was something you were proud of. After all, he’d spent the entire gift-unwrapping listening to the small, telltale signs of your excitement.

“It’s a . . .” He lifted it from the ruins of tissue paper. “. . . T-shirt?”

“Uh-huuhhh!” you chriped. He could hear you practically vibrating. Matt wasn’t averse to t-shirts. But he had to admit, it was a bit of a strange thing for you to get so excited about. Though, feeling about the cotton, he could sense some roughness. Ink. Was there a design on this? Was it a graphic t-shirt?

“Put it on, put it on!” you cheered. He did so, not able to think of a reason why he shouldn’t. Besides, well, the fact that he knew you were being highly suspicious. The brief moment it took for him to pop his head through the neck hole, he could hear rustling coming from your part of the little circle. He also heard Foggy snort before weakly attempting to stifle his obvious laugh. He heard Karen’s breath hitch as well, though not in any way that denoted discomfort. In fact, he heard heartbeats quicken and lungs practically spasming.

What the hell had you done.

“Okay, I give up, what does it say?” Matt demanded.

“Nothing!” Foggy squeaked.

Matt’s lips pressed into a thing, unimpressed line. “Yeah, that’s bullshit. I don’t even need to hear for a lie, what is it? What does it say?”

“It, um,” Karen offered fruitlessly, “It says ‘World’s Best Boyfriend’, that’s all.”

“Seriously?” Matt sighed, though not without cracking a hint of a smile. “You’re going to lie to a blind guy? And to me of all blind guys?” He heard you shuffling towards him, walking on your knees. 

“Don’t worry about it, Babe,” you insisted, pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. In the moment you leaned towards him, he could smell a new smell on you: It wasn’t unlike the one that belonged to his brand-new shirt.

But before he could demand the truth any further, Foggy cut in with a giggle-wobbled, “Time for Christmas photos! Say cheese, Lovebirds!”

Matt could only give in; there was no point in trying to wedge the truth out of any of you. All he knew was that he knew you three were lying about . . . something.

Ah, well, he decided as he heard the click of Foggy’s camera phone going off. Perhaps there was a way to get the truth out of you . . .

It didn’t work. In spite of his best efforts (and damn, were they his best), he couldn’t get it out of you. However, that wasn’t to say that he didn’t get anything he wanted out of you. And as he began to fall prey to his exhaustion, the events of the day finally catching up to him, he snuggled his naked form loser to yours. Perhaps the truth would have to wait for another day . . .

For your part, you were proud of yourself. Admittedly, part of the pride’s source came from the fact that you were able to hold your ground in the end (Matt was just too giving of a lover to be good at torturing you). But for the most part, it came from the fact that you were able to execute your plan as you intended it. In a way, it was also like a little bit of revenge: Revenge on Matt for being one of the absolute worst people to shop for. And for that, maybe you’d hold on to your not-so-secret secret. Just for a little while longer . . .

But first, one last relishing in your success before you succumbed to sleep.

You carefully and slowly made your way to your side of the bed. Not enough to properly wake up your sleeping boyfriend, but just so that you could reach your phone from its resting place on the nightstand. Once acquired, you pressed the home button and set your sights aglow with the image you had last had your phone on before your and Matt’s little session.

It was the picture Foggy had taken earlier of you and Matt, dressed in the matching T-shirts you had acquired for yourselves. You grinned cheekily at the camera, making sure that the bubbly white writing on the black fabric was perfectly legible: “My Ass Got Slapped By Legal.”

And next to you was Matt, a smile planted on his handsome face but altogether tainted with confusion and growing insanity over what the hell you had him wearing -- an equally black t-shirt with equally bubbly white writing: “I Am Legal.”

Oh, yeah, you decided as you smiled to yourself. This was going on the Christmas cards next year.

[flutteringdreams-matw]

Fic Writer Review

Thanks for the tag @dp-marvel94 - first time I've been tagged like this. I have a full fuzzy heart right now!

1) How many works do you have on AO3? 7 but attempting to clean up and move fics to AO3. I've got about 13 on FFN. 2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 184 768 3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? On AO3 - 1, on FFN 2. Almost all Danny Phantom except for an old Merlin one shot. I'd like to revisit that Fandom one day - I just got so busy with school :/ The merlin fandom is quite awesome. 4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1) Twist and Turns 2) The Road to Normal 3) Making the Grade 4) Out of Time 5) Undeserved Punishment 5. Which of your fic do you want more attention for? Out of Time but honestly I'm grateful for any attention I get. 6. Do you respond to comments, why or why not? Yes! I have been bad at it for AGES but have recently gotten in the habit of replying once every two days. It brings some serotonin to my brain. I don't get many comments or kudos - so it brings even GREATER joy when I get to reply.

7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? Uh.... I guess it would be Just a Clone an old oneshot from Dani's perspective after Kindred Spirits (right after it aired). It was maybe the 2nd thing I posted on FFN. 8. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Have not done a crossover yet - not for lack of ideas. It's just not something I'm good at. 9. Have you ever received hate on a fic? Remember when flames were a thing? Also, quite a guest reviews on FFN who impersonated people's accounts. Just... not a good thing to do. 10. Do you write smut? if so what kind? NOPE. 11. Have you ever had a fic translated? I have not - honestly don't think anyone would want to but please be my guest! 12. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not yet - but did start the planning process over on FFN with MsFrizzle for something. Still working out timelines/commitment! 13. What’s your all time favorite ship? Canon pairings so Amethyst Ocean. Not that I won't read or enjoy other pairings so long as it's close to canon or very well done. 14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? Hmm. See the whole reason I came back to writing was to finish all the WIP fics I didn't finish. Underserved Punishment was left sitting for 6 years. Making the Grade was TEN. YEARS. But have since finished them both. Currently, I guess it's an unpublished short work called "Worth of a Pawn" from Vlad's perspective in Reign Storm. I started it, have made attempts to finish it... but writer's block and life.

15. What are your writing strengths? Huh. Um. Hurt Comfort? Friendship? I'm hoping characterization?

16. What are your writing weaknesses? Honestly, I have a love/hate relationship with action/fight scenes with heavy dialogue. For a while I thought it was humour but Road to Normal has been going well so far? 17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? If you can do it - do it responsibly. 18. What was the first fandom you wrote for? 15 (or 16?) year old me sat in a dentist office and wrote the entirity of Escape from Fear Island and an untitled angsty torture fic with Danny finding Dani in the Fenton Basement in a notebook. Then I read Tortured Truth by Darth Frodo on FFN and went "oooh... that was better." I published EfFI instead and started to plan more in that universe.... and am still going 15 years later. 19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? What. Ugh - do I have to lol? I love Making the Grade for many reasons, but I think Out of Time has started to replace that. 20. What fic are you most proud of? Out of Time - hands down. All of the ecto-storm fics hold a place in my heart but there are some parts of this story that have been in my head since I wrote EfFI in 2006/7. I just... I look at the almost 110k words I've written for that story (that isn't already on AO3... still working on catching up!) and realize how much time it's spent in my heart. Everytime I post a chapter, I feel like a piece of myself is out their in the world. An insane world with many ups and downs. We're getting near the end now and I had literal tears when I finished the last chapter a couple weeks back. Tagging: Oh gosh I'm new to tumblr! Um... @dekalko-mania @captain-ozone and anyone else who wants to do this? So many people have done this already, I'd hate to double tag! Please go for it - share your story!!!

[jtargaryen18]

U work as an intern for Mark Weiss. It's not uncommon for him to get high before a meeting. That's why u are his designated driver. Once his drugs get switched accidently by his drug dealer n he accidently does ecstasy n other drugs that r too strong even for him. He loses his mind. He has non con sex with u in the car.

Thank you for your request. 🙏 I changed this up a little bit for personal reasons. It’s more my own personal backstory than any problem with the ask. Hope that’s okay. Hope you like this one. This isn’t tied to my series Getting Clean.

Masterlist

Pairings: Mike Weiss (Puncture)/Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Drug use, explicit sex, dubious consent, oral sex (female receiving), angst, doubts, fluff.

I don’t consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it’s been reposted without my permission.

~~~

Mike Weiss strutted, there was no other word for it, out of high-rise with Paul Danziger, his partner, on his heels. He wore a grin that could light up Houston as he bid Paul goodbye and spied you in the truck. The subtle notes of his cologne, bergamot and lemon with a deep oak base, reached you a beat before he climbed into the truck next to you.

“I take it the meeting went well?” you asked as he threw on his seatbelt.

“It did indeed,” he told you, looking you over and smiling. “Did I tell you that you look nice today?”

You swallowed hard at his praise, trying to think of something to say. But he was already on his phone calling someone about setting up an interview relative to the case.

Mike had hired you as his paid intern and it had been a wild three months. It was summer and it was a good thing you were just focusing on your internship because the job basically required you to be at Mike’s beck and call. Any hour of the day or night.

And that was just fine with you. Except…

Okay, Mike had a couple of other interns who worked for him. They didn’t seem to be that interested in pursuing a career in law as you were. It wasn’t your place to judge them. But it also didn’t escape your notice that they had a different arrangement with him. One you wanted. They were very touchy-feely with Mike and it was reciprocated.

Whenever you “accidentally” walked in on any of these occasions, the other interns would smugly grin at you, knowing Mike wasn’t involved with you like that.

What did they have that you didn’t? You dressed up in soft flowing dresses, took care with your hair and makeup. Hell, as many hours as you had invested in the man, didn’t that earn you something?

Mike was gorgeous. There was no denying that. The entire reason you’d tried so hard to get an internship with him was that you had a crush on him for years. You lived on the same street as he and his wife for a while. Now his wife was gone.

What’s a girl gotta do?

Over the last several weeks though, you noticed you were seeing the other interns less and you were hearing from Mike more often. You weren’t sure that was a good thing. You wanted to think it was because you did a good job. If he had a meeting, you made sure to remind him the night before. You also called an hour before to make sure he was on his way. Then you ended up just picking him up and taking him to the meetings yourself.  

Since Mike was keeping his commitments and arriving on time?  You went from non-existent to Paul, who pretty much disregarded most interns Mike had working for him, to someone he counted on. Once Paul figured out you could get Mike to meetings on time, he started advising you of Mike’s schedule instead of counting on Mike to remember.

It was an ego boost sure. It was also hard to have a life of your own when you were trying to keep up with Mike. You didn’t have time to hook up with anyone else because of Mike but he didn’t seem interested in you…

At first, you had to wonder how someone who was such a powerhouse in the courtroom, someone who knew the law like the back of his hand, couldn’t seem to handle everything else. It didn’t take you long to figure it out.

Mike was a drug addict.

And as perfect as he looked, didn’t that figure?

It was mostly cocaine and pills though he did some heroine too on occasion. The first time he had you stop at a worn-down house in a seedy neighborhood, you’d literally locked the doors of the truck, scared the entire time. By the third time you stopped there, you put together that it belonged to a dealer.

You stopped there now, putting the truck in park and leaving it running. You’d fueled up while he was in the meeting with Paul. The sun was setting with pink and orange streaks shooting across the sky.

“Be right back,” he told you with a grin, still on his phone call.

You shook your head.

You weren’t paying attention to the time, but he was back out in half an hour and it was getting dark. Mike was looking less determined than he normally did and more… Well, you weren’t sure. The cute little smile and wave in the window before he climbed back in seemed out of character for him.

“I could go for something to eat,” he announced as he climbed in and looked at you expectantly.

“Okay,” you replied. “What are you in the mood for?”

Mike hummed and his attention, which was normally on his phone or his files, when he wasn’t lost in thought, was squarely on you. Hooking a finger in the strap of the summer dress you wore, he pulled it off your shoulder.

“What am I in the mood for?” he asked idly as his hand rested on your shoulder, his thumb tracing circles on your skin.

“Are you okay?” you had to ask. What had he taken in there?

Not wanting to make it weird, you dropped your shoulder to duck out of his touch. And he dropped his hand, but it was close to you on the seat. You hauled the strap back into place.

“Pick something out,” he finally said.

His phone rang, Paul from the sound of it, and he talked to him while you stopped at White Castle. You ordered sliders and fries while he talked to Paul and tried not to think about his touch on your shoulder.

It had you feeling conflicted. Mike had never hit on you before. He was always polite, distracted.

Does that mean he’s interested now or he took something?

When you pulled up to the window to collect your order and pay for it, Mike was still on the phone. Reaching across you, he handed money to the cashier. You jolted when he pressed his mouth to your shoulder, pulling the strap back down. When his tongue slid lightly over your skin, you shivered.

What’s going on?

Handing him the bag, trying not to get your hopes up, you pulled out of the restaurant lot and headed for his house. You expected him to start eating as he usually did, but he ended the call and tossed the bag up on the dash. His left hand slid towards you on the seat, his fingers walking up your side as you tried to focus on the road.

You were ticklish and you flinched. “Mike, what are you doing? I’m driving.”

You couldn’t make out his expression in the shadows of the cabin. You just knew you wanted to get him home, jump in your car, and try to sort everything out over Netflix and some Häagen-Dazs back at your apartment.

Or jump him. If he’d let you. And he might right now but…

Pulling into Mike’s driveway, you threw the truck into park and killed the engine. You started gathering your things, taking your time. Usually he did the same. He’d removed his seatbelt and had his arm resting across the back of the seat, eyeing you curiously.

It stopped you cold. “Aren’t you getting out?”

“Not right now.”

Mike’s voice had been so calm that you’d yelped when he came across the seat for you a second later.

His mouth was demanding on yours as he wrapped a powerful arm around you, pulling you against him on the seat. And he was hard, pressing you down until he was all you could see above you. His broad shoulders blocked out the faint light of the streetlamp.

Your heart hammered in excitement and trepidation but.. he was a really good kisser. Even as his hands skimmed all over you, his lips were a warm tease on yours, the softness of his beard brushing your lips, your cheeks. Those careful kisses were enticing, distracting. Everything you wanted.

Not enough to distract you from his hands trying to get to the back of your dress. He was dropping kisses over your face, your shoulders…

Still, he wasn’t his normal self and he’d just come from his dealer. And now all of a sudden he wanted you? It didn’t make sense. Had he taken something different? If he had, should you let this happen?

“Mike?” Your heart hammered so loudly he had to hear it. “I don’t…”

“Why haven’t we done this before?” he whispered against your skin.

Stitches popped in your dress when his fingers clutched the front and strapless bra beneath and roughly pulled both down, baring one of your breasts.

You sucked in a breath as he got his mouth on you, his tongue a hot lash against your nipple that tightened under his attention. Your hands clutched at his hair, to hold him to you? To push him away? You weren’t sure, gasping beneath his careful ministrations.

You couldn’t deny though that he felt so fucking good. All that warm, solid muscle beneath the fine material of his bright orange shirt. The silk of his hair slid around your fingers whisper soft.

“Do you… think this is a good idea?” you tried timidly as he yanked harder on your dress, both straps giving way now.

Mike hummed, nuzzling at your other breast and teasing you with soft nips along the underside while you squirmed beneath him. You knew you should stop him, but it felt so good. Yeah, you might be looking for another job tomorrow. But this was what you’d wanted for years. Given how many times you’d brought yourself off thinking about him alone in your bed at night, you perversely wanted to see what would happen.

“Mike?” You asked louder to get his attention.

His hands had moved down your body, sliding under your skirt. You struggled beneath him, thinking maybe you should put the brakes on. But it wasn’t much of a fight. In trying to pull free of him, you only succeeded in letting him shove your skirt up to your waist.

“Beautiful,” he muttered. “Soft and warm…”

Now you did fight him. Your legs were wrapped around his powerful torso – and that was a fantasy – and the bodice of your dress was around your waist. One arm you used to cover your breasts. The other hand weakly tried to fend him off.                                                                  

“Mike, what’s gotten into you?” Your voice shook as you made yourself ask the question. “Did you take… something?”

You hated to ask but the question did get his attention. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Mike’s gaze lifted to your face, concern clouding his eyes.

“I got the usual from Joey,” he muttered, his hands skimming higher on the insides of your thighs. “I’m feeling pretty good right now.” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your thigh, made you shiver. “You feel really good right now.”

“I’m your intern,” you tried, try to scoot away from him.

Strong hands on your thighs pulled you back.

“I’ve slept with interns before,” he muttered, hooking a finger in the crotch of your panties now.

You shivered to feel his breath on your private folds that were heated and wet despite your apprehension.

“You normally don’t notice me at all,” you said hating the whiny tone of your voice when you said it.

Mike stopped then, his gaze on your face.

“Of course I’ve noticed you,” he whispered. Another kiss pressed to your thigh. A finger slid into your folds, tracing a gentle line between your clit and entrance, making your shiver. “Have you noticed that the others aren’t around as much… Been wanting you.”

Oh, that wasn’t him talking. It was the substance. It had to be.

Didn’t it?

When Mike buried his face between your thighs, the fight went out of you. Under the influence or not, the man had a wicked tongue and he knew exactly what to do with it outside the courtroom too. Your hands went from trying to cover your breasts and push him away to palming your breasts as Mike ate you out. He had an iron grip on your thighs, holding you easily as he took you apart with his lips and tongue.

You writhed in his grasp, you cried out, you begged…

By the time he rose above you, yanking down his trademark suspenders to take his slacks down, you were watching breathlessly. His tie traced cool silk trails over your breasts as he moved. You let him position himself at your entrance. You gasped when Mike caught both your wrists and held them on either side of your head as he sank into you.

Your body stretched around him as he sank deeper and deeper into you. You didn’t fight him, taking his weight as he pressed you into the seat. And when he started to move, you wrapped your legs around his waist and hung on.

“You fit me perfectly,” Mike whispered, dropping kisses over every part of you he could reach as his hips powered into you. “Wanted you…”

Mike stole kisses from your lips, his thrusts gaining strength and speed as he held you beneath him. A myriad of emotions stormed your mind as Mike claimed you in the cab of the truck. Was this desire or the grips of some drug? Would he even remember? Care?

One hand slid between you, a tender assault on your clit that had you twisting beneath him, around him. You weren’t inexperienced, but you’d never felt anything like that. The way he filled you, the way his solid thrusts had you scooting up the seat in contrast with the gentle strum of his fingers against the small seed at the center of your pleasure.

All you could do was hang on as pleasure claimed you, had you crying out in the cramped space of the cabin.

“That’s it,” Mike whispered, grunting as your body clamped around him. “God…”

It was only second later that he pulled out of your body, coming across your thighs, over the panties you still technically wore. Mike cried out, working himself over you as you lay panting on the seat, noticing the windows of the truck were fogged over.

He seemed to relax then, easing back against the seat of the truck and pulling his tie off. The rough cadence of his breath blended with yours in the quiet cab.

Slowly, you eased up on the seat, pulling your panties back into place, pulling your shaking thighs together. Reaching for the White Castle bag, you found napkins that you used to clean him off your thighs as he watched with a heated gaze.

You had your sweater with you and thank God for that with the top of your dress destroyed. With shaking hands, you pulled it on, buttoned it up.

Mike whispered your name. “Come in for a while,” he said quietly.

Did he not realize what just happened? You were his primary helper now and he’d just rocked your world. But you weren’t sure if it was what he really wanted or it was something he took. You were blinking back tears as he watched you mutely, confusion just starting to cloud his expression, those cool blue eyes.

You were grabbing up your things, pulling on the handle of the door.

A large hand on your thigh stayed you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his gaze moving over you.

“I’ve… I’ve got to go,” you whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” Mike slid a hand up to your face, smoothing his palm along your cheek and directing your gaze to him. “Are you okay?”

“Does it matter?” you asked with your chin trembling, tears sliding from your eyes.

Mike looked at you hard, trying to really focus. “What?”

“Bye,” you whispered.

You bolted out of the truck with Mike calling your name behind you. Scrambling into your car, you quickly got the key in the ignition just as Mike was putting himself together in the cab of the truck. By the time he was climbing out, you were spinning rocks out of his driveway.

You waited until you reached your apartment before you lost it, sobbing in the bathroom floor while you peeled off the sweater, what was left of your dress, and your panties. Your phone started ringing by the time you started running your bath. You disconnected it.

You cried in the bath, trying to get your head around what happened. You mostly had it under control by the time you climbed into your bed.

At some point, you managed to drift off to sleep.

 ***

 The next morning you woke up feeling worse about things. You knew you should probably reconnect your phone, face the music. God knew how that was going to go. You started thinking about options over your bowl of cereal. Could you get another internship? What happened with Mike? Paul?

Had he meant what he said about wanting you? Or had that been whatever he took? Had it all been only in your head?

You jumped in your chair at the sound of the knock at your door.

Your heart sank. You just knew it was him and it was. Mike was leaning in your doorway when you opened the door, filling it.

It was Saturday and you were off, wearing soft, fleece pajamas. But there was Mike dressed as he always was, red shirt and black slacks, his suspenders. He looked handsome as ever and it had your heart speeding up just like it always did. His pale pallor was worse than usual like he’d gotten even less sleep than you did.

You’d barely cracked open the door.

Mike leaned close, those blue eyes kind as his gaze met yours. “Can we talk? Please?”

Your breath caught. How was this going to go?

“I know you’re afraid,” he said quietly. “Don’t be.”

Hoping he couldn’t see how badly you were trembling, you stepped back and opened the door wider so he could enter your apartment. You’d just locked the door when he pulled you into his arms. And it felt so good to be there, his hands smoothing up and down your back, the hard length of his body warm.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair as he held you.

Here we go. This is the part where he tells you it was a mistake. Would you still have a job?

When you didn’t say anything, Mike eased back from you, tipping up your chin so your gaze met his.

“Let’s sit down,” he said gently.

Oh, God. You were going to lose your job too?

The two of you took a seat on your couch. Mike didn’t let you get far, keeping you in his arms. Those blue eyes were kind on you.

“Last night was not exactly how I’d imagining things going between us,” he said after a moment.

You shook your head, struggling to push down your guilt for what you’d allowed to happen.

“I’m so sorry, Mike,” you whispered, making yourself meet his gaze.

A strong finger traced over your cheek. “I’m not.”

What?

“I called Joey and somehow some ecstasy got thrown in there yesterday,” Mike explained, that blue-eyed gaze moving over your face. “I wasn’t myself after that and I’m sorry. I need to know that you’re okay, that I didn’t… take advantage of you.”

“Take advantage of me?” Was he serious? “I was… God, I was afraid that you just wanted to… because of whatever you took and that you’d be mad at me today. I was afraid…”

Mike lowered his head to kiss your mouth carefully, slowly.

“Last night what I took only made me want what I want more,” he whispered against your lips. “And I’ve wanted you for a while now… Just hope I didn’t fuck everything up.”

Mike wanted you? It didn’t sound right in your head but when you gazed into his eyes, you could read desire there, fear.

“So we can agree that everything that happened in my driveway was consensual?” Mike’s voice was a shade less confident.

You nodded. “It was.”

“And you’re still willing to put up with my ass?” He asked in a lighter tone. “If not, I’ve got a lot of fucking explaining to do to Paul. He really counts on you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. “I know.”

Another soft kiss, one that had the knots of tension easing in your body.

“It’s going to be tricky balancing work with us,” he told you. “But I think we can make it work.”

Another kiss had your hands smoothing over his back, clutching at those damn suspenders he loved.

“So?”

“So friends with benefits?” you offered.

Mike shook his head. “If I just wanted friendly sex, I’d still be paying hookers.” Another kiss before those gorgeous lips blazed a trail across to your jaw, to the sensitive hollow beneath your ear. “I want more… I want it with you. No more interns. Just us. Me and you.”

When Mike pulled back to read you, you were a mess. Smiling like a dolt with tears starting to pool in your eyes.

“Yes?” His gaze searched yours. “We have a deal?”

You nodded, swiping at your eyes with your fingers. “Deal.”

You didn’t expect Mike to haul you over his shoulder and rise from the couch with you like you were light as a feather.

“Where’s your bedroom?” Mike asked, smoothing a hand over your ass.

You pointed the way, squealing and hanging onto a suspender as he raced to get there.

@chaoticfiretaconerd @lok1sgrl @weebid @supernaturaldean67 @notyourtypicalrose  @titty-teetee @tonib666 @iheartsebastianstan @rainbowkisses31 @alyssaforever2671  @xoxabs88xox @what-is-your-wish @what-is-your-plan-today @caffiend-queen @chrisevansgirl @justrae9903 @kitkatd7 @candy-and-writing @vitamingummies @rayofdawnworld @villanellevi @hv-chw3 @daughterofthenight117 @rissysthoughts-blog @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @richonne4life @21stcenturywitchcraft @maxwelllee2020 @imanuglywombat @marvelouspottering @nannies-dont-date @bval-1 @peaceinourtime82 @nerdwholikesword @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @shygirl-00 @scarletsoldierrr @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @stargazingfangirl18 @nekoannie-chan @buckybarnesplumwhore @capsicle-shield @saiyanprincessswanie @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @abyssaint  @lokislastlove @team-iron-wannabe-man @mariaenchanted

[flat-as-a-board]

hi okay so u seem to be pretty confidant in being a lesbian and i am Not

so i’m like 99.999999999999999% sure i’m a lesbian, BUT there are some guys that i’m just like :DDDD 🥰🥰 u know?? like i wanna settle down w them and get married n stuff and live out the rest of our lives together… so those r decidedly Not Lesbian Thoughts

tho like ANY guy isn’t attractive to me, it’s just Some guys, and i talked to my sibling (who is a lesbian) and she was all “well, that’s probably comphet or just a desire for deep friendship” but w these guys (who are FAR AND FEW BETWEEN) it’s not friendly at all, it’s romantic! anyways that’s just my issue and please, please don’t feel any pressure to answer this ask if you don’t feel like it, i just wanted to tell someone and maybe get advice <3

aww , first off im so honored ur asking me lol thats so sweet <3 also i kinda wrote u an Entire Trilogy so . i put it under the cut tee hee

but Full Disclosure i am not a Lesbian Oracle & i can't tell you whether or not you're a lesbian, that's just something you have to figure out in your own time. but just so you know, there's absolutely no rush to finding your label. there's nothing wrong with trying different ones out until you find one you're comfortable with, & if you don't feel like it, you don't even have to use a label at all!

it really depends on the men you like & in what way you like them. for me personally, i went through pretty much Every Single Label before i figured out i was a lesbian. there were Sometimes men i thought i was attracted to, but turns out it was either comphet or me having No Idea What Romantic Attraction Actually Was. & that may or may not be the case for you!

i'm sure you already know this from your Lesbian Sibling, but if your crushes are exclusively for celebrities/fictional characters/otherwise Unattainable, Unrealistic Men, its very possible it's just comphet! i don't experience comphet super super often, but many many many lesbians do. if you're getting those Romantic Warm Fuzzies about real, Attainable men you Actually Know, then it might be different!

most of the reason why i thought i wasnt a lesbian is because of the "crushes" i had on some boys at my school. the first one i stopped liking Instantly when my friend said he liked me. the second one was the same situation. the third one i stopped liking because he asked me out & even though i said yes & we were dating for all of two weeks, i felt repulsed and incredibly uncomfortable the second it turned Actually Romantic, which is what i thought i wanted.

the way i started figuring out that it wasn't really romantic attraction was by imagining the boys i thought i had a crush on in an objectively very romantic situation. for example, me & Boy Classmate #18 at a candle lit dinner kissing & making out & all that. just writing that made me uncomfortable, which tells me i'm not romantically attracted to Boy Classmate #18.

however! not every lesbian feels the same way about men! some are Repulsed like me, & some are just indifferent. plenty of people find out they're lesbians well into adulthood & after being in relationships with men. i'd recommend talking to Lesbian Sibling about how she feels towards the people she's attracted to, and seeing whether that's how you feel toward these men! might not be foolproof, i'm not an expert of course, i'm just thinking about what could've helped me when i was figuring it out.

i don't know the specifics of your situation or who you are as a person or what your attraction feels like so i'm mostly just sharing my Lesbian Experience in hopes that it'll help you realize whether or not you could be a lesbian. you could be lesbian, you could be omni, you could be poly, you could be bi ... all of which are equally Valid And Gnarly identities!

i have no idea if any of this was useful or even made sense, but i hope my Autobiography could help you in some way. but again, there's absolutely no pressure to figure out exactly who you are. that's something you do on your time, in your own way, & only if you want to.