#yeah so one more time for the people in the back

[luveline]

Hi Jade! Can I request Spencer and Nurse!reader? Maybe they meet when he’s wounded/she’s patching him up?

(Yes I’m a nursing student I promise we aren’t all mean girls 😔)

ty for requesting!! ik ur not all mean of course!!<3 —you meet the cutest FBI agent ever and tend his wounds. fem, 1.5k

One of the small pleasures of your job is when the patients are cute. Not many people come through as handsome as this one. You’re professional nonetheless. 

“What am I seeing you for today?” you ask, holding your hands behind your back. 

Your patient, charted as a Dr. Spencer Walter Reid, twenty nine years old, gives you a tentative smile. “Someone hit me really hard.” 

You can see the bruise forming against his temple. “Yes, I’d say so. Did you know the assailant?” 

“No, but it’s handled.” His smile turns to a grimace. “Uh, I get these, like, debilitating migraines, and I feel like I have one coming on.”

“A head injury could trigger that,” you agree, holding your hands out in front of you, little torch in hand. “Can I have a look?” you ask softly. 

When you’ve been a nurse for some time, you start to categorise people into boxes. All kinds of boxes for different things, but Spencer Reid gets a tick for a few things straight away: shy, pretty, and sensitive to touch. He must not get touched much, or he’s had a bad experience with strangers. He did just get hit in the head, you allow, brushing a sweet, mousy curl away from his head and holding it out of the way as you shine a light into each of his eyes. He flinches hard, but his pupils react as expected. 

Whoever hit him managed to break the skin, upon closer infection of the injury. The skin has turned purple at the edges of his cut. It’ll be a big bruise in just a few hours. 

“Spencer, please tell me if I hurt you, honey,” you say, voice still soft. If he’s got a migraine coming, he won’t want your usual overloud distinction. 

“It’s okay. It hurts, but not more or less when you poke it.” 

“You have a laceration, yeah? It’s about three centimetres long, but deep. I can close it with a butterfly stitch, if you’re okay with that.” 

“Yeah, please. Um, about the migraine–”

“Do you want a tramadol, honey? I think you deserve one.” 

“I can’t have narcotics.” 

You pull back and straighten the hair you’d displaced. “That’s okay, it just means you can’t have the strongest stuff. Most people try to avoid them anyhow. How about tylenol, would that be alright? Or do you avoid painkillers in general?” 

“Tylenol is fine as long as it doesn’t have the codeine with it.” 

You give him a gentle nod. “I’ll make sure it’s the right one. You can even see the bottle, if you like. Would you want them before or after the stitch?” He probably knows, but you add, “It’s not a real stitch. But it might feel tender when I’m poking around.” 

“Anything. Whatever you want to do first.” 

His eyes squeeze closed. You give him a frown he can’t see, and rest your hand on his arm. “Is there someone here with you?” you ask him.

“My friend is coming, I think. There was a lot going on.” 

“That’s okay. I’m not sending you home until I’ve fixed you, Dr. Reid.” 

He smiles, even with his eyes closed, but doesn’t say anything more. You wash your hands and find your bandages. A butterfly bandage, a sterile wipe, and a square piece of gauze to cover it cleanly. His eyes are opening again when you return, ushering him gently down the bed so you can sit on his right side near the injury. 

“What do you do for work?” you ask him. 

“I work for the FBI.” 

“You do?” You tear open the sterile wipe and again pull the curls from his forehead. “This might sting. Please tell me if it hurts too much.” 

“It’s not the cut that hurts.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say sympathetically. Migraines are a tricky business. If he’s already having one, you probably can’t do much to get rid of it, but that doesn’t mean pain relief won’t help. “I’ll do this as quickly as I can.” 

He’s quiet. You wipe around the laceration with careful, concise movements. The cut looks clean enough when you’re done, and it’s so small you won’t irrigate it. 

“Are you an agent?” you ask. 

“Yeah. Special supervisory with the BAU. The, uh, behavioural analysis unit.” 

“Oh, I know,” you say, putting the wrapping and the dirtied wipe into your cardboard bowl. “I think I’ve seen it on TV sometimes, you guys can track the serial killers and stuff?” 

“Mostly that, yeah. Uh, sometimes we find trafficking rings or missing kids. Sometimes we manage hostage situations. It depends on the level of the crisis.” 

“So you’re the big gun.” 

“I guess so. I’m not actually good with a gun.” 

“No one has to be good with a gun to change the world.” You pull the butterfly stitch from the packaging and pick at a finicky end. “I hate guns.” 

He sighs. “I do, too.” 

“They make my job hard. It’s not nice, seeing what they can do to people. It’s awful, really. Spencer, I’m so sorry, honey, I’m just gonna put this on here, it might feel uncomfortable as I pull the sides together.” 

“It’s okay.” 

You pull the plastic of the butterfly stitch on both sides, cinching his cut together promptly. It looks better now you can’t see the inside. 

“I’m gonna cover this with the dressing now. You don’t have to keep it on if you don’t want to, it’s a pretty small cut, it was just deep. I’d recommend you try to keep it dry for two days, really, you should keep it covered, but it’s up to you. And if anything happens, if it gets infected, you can always come see me again.” 

You’re mildly flirting, then. Just because he’s nice and shy. It might be a little cruel of you to proposition a man when he’s roughed up, though. 

Spencer, luckily, understands that you’re not trying to harass him. “Thank you.” 

You stand, peeling the plastic from the bandaid and exposing the sticky backing. Slowly, you stroke his hair back from the wound and line the bandaid up. He shivers under your nails. 

“So sorry,” you say, laughing under your breath, “it’s my nails, huh?” 

“It’s okay.” 

“You’re a great patient, Spencer. I’d give you a sticker if I could, I’m not kidding.” 

“You’re a great nurse.” 

“Thank you.” You smooth the edges of the bandaid down for good measure and step away from him to assess him. “How’s that migraine?” 

“Getting worse.” 

“You have them often, you said? Treated or untreated?” 

“Psychosomatic, apparently.” 

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Has your doctor talked to you about CBT?” 

“Some. I don’t really… want it,” he says awkwardly. 

“That’s okay. If it’s psychosomatic as they believe, it might get better with time. How’s the stress in your life?”

“Stressful.” 

“It must be hard, the FBI, everything. Life is hard enough. Stopping serial killers must weigh on your heart.” You smile carefully. “Was there anything else you wanted to bring to my attention? Any other injury, anything that needs urgent care?” 

“I was mostly worried I had a concussion.” 

“It doesn’t seem like it. You’re not nauseous, are you?” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

He gets this awful, sad look on his face, it really isn’t nice to see. People come in by themselves all the time but it never gets easier to handle. 

“Are you alright?” you ask, taking his arm into your hand. 

“I’m fine.” 

He had the look of someone who’s always fine. Luckily for him, it’s your job to take care of people, to make sure they’re more than fine. “Okay. I’m gonna get you something warm to drink. Do you like donuts?” 

“Uh–”

“I’m getting a feeling about you. Chocolate frosting, I bet.” 

He smiles, startled and pleased at once. “Yeah.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna get those for you. A drink, a donut, and some much needed Tylenol. You can lay down if you like.” 

He nods but doesn’t move. 

As you’re leaving the room, you cross paths with a handsome man with dark skin and a bright smile. Must be something in the air today, you think. 

“Reid, you okay?” you hear him say. 

“Fine.” 

“You’re pink.” 

“What?” 

“You’re blushing. Oh, you had the pretty nurse, didn’t you?” 

“Shut up,” Spencer whispers sharply. 

“You can ask for her number.” 

“No I can’t, she’s working.” 

“But you want to,” his friend surmises. 

You bite down a smile, giving your head a shake as you go. You need to get a move on. Spencer needs a hot drink, a donut, Tylenol, and a pen. It should be okay if you’re both feeling up to it, right?

[sleepyhoon]

TWO MOONS - L.HS

pairing. plug!heeseung x reader

genre. smut, 18+ content, one shot, drabble. MDNI!

word count. 4k+

warnings. drug & alcohol consumption, partying, swearing, sex while intoxicated, short smut [ dry humping, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), fingering ]

synopsis. based off of this hard thought! plug!heeseung who likes you so much that he's convinced himself that you're kinda evil.

a/n. sorry this took so long lol hope u enjoy regardless :) no part 2 so plss dont request it but maybe some drabbles!! also not fully proofread so pls disregard any typos or grammatical errors hehe

Never in his life did Heeseung predict he’d be getting bitched around by a girl arguably much shorter, physically weaker, and far less intimidating than him. And yet here he was, shirtless in his kitchen at two in the morning on his third attempt of baking edibles all because you were too scared to smoke a little weed. 

Fucking ridiculous.

It’s his own fault, really, he should’ve known that innocent, good girl persona you put on was all an act you use to control people – specifically men. Stirring the dessert batter in the mixing bowl, Heeseung shakes his head at the memory of you tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him as you spoke, your perfectly manicured nails – that you probably got some desperate bitchboy to pay for – tracing and lightly scratching his bicep.

“So,” you started, dragging out the ‘o’, “how much do you charge for edibles?”

Heeseung shakes his head, tracing the rim of his half-empty red solo cup as he responds, “Edibles aren’t my forte. You don’t smoke?”

“Not my forte,” you say in a mocking tone, making Heeseung chuckle. “It’s just too much, you know? The smell, how quick it kicks in…not for me. But, uh, if you don’t make them I’ll stop wasting your time, then.” You give Heeseung a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning on your heels, fully prepared to disappear back into the party and find someone who actually meets your needs.

“Wait!” Heeseung stops you, tugging on your arm until you’re back to facing him. He can’t fucking believe this bullshit manipulation tactic you’re using on him is actually working, he’s literally pulling on your arm like a child so you won’t leave him.

You raise a brow at him as you wait for Heeseung to continue, taking note of his sudden nervousness, “Yeah?”

“Uh…are you into, like, brownies? Or…”

The smirk you gave in response said enough, you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

He’d spent the next few hours browsing the aisles of Target, checking his phone every so often and checking off each ingredient as he tossed them into the bright red shopping cart. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even requested normal brownies, you wanted some shit he’d hardly ever heard of before: blondies. 

It was bad enough that Heeseung already couldn’t bake for shit, and here you were demanding he’d make something he’d never even tasted before; you really are a master manipulator.

His third and final attempt at baking the blondies were a success, his three roommates taste-testing the fresh batch as a final confirmation.

“I can’t even taste it,” Jake says, his brows shooting up in delight, “you sure you’re not forgetting the main ingredient?”

“That’s the whole point,” Heeseung explains, cutting the remaining batch into neat squares, “YN doesn’t want the taste to be too strong, she likes when it’s more subtle and takes awhile to kick in.”

“Are you her wife or her plug?” Sunghoon jokes from his spot on the couch, taking a small bite of his own blondie.

“Neither,” Jay inserts himself into the conversation, taking a seat next to Sunghoon, “I’m sure he wants to be both, though.”

“Fuck off,” Heeseung snaps, momentarily narrowing his eyes at his roommates. “We just met, I’m just trying to get to know her.” He sets the knife down, reaching into the wooden cabinet to retrieve ziplock bags.

“You’re already her bitch, what else is there to know?” Sunghoon half-jokes, resting his feet on the ottoman.

“I am not her bitch.”

He totally is, if the way he’s hurrying to send you a picture of the freshly made blondies is anything to go by.

Heeseung * 2:47 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] Yooo

YN * 9:06 AM

omggggg  ur the fucking best how much??

You didn’t respond until the following morning, causing Heeseung to nearly jump out of his skin once he woke up to your texts. He turns on his side, elbow propped up against the mattress as he formulates a response.

Heeseung * 10:31 AM

1 for 10 or 2 for 15. venmo or cashapp But lmk if you want more 

YN * 10:40 AM

no cash? :(

Heeseung’s about to go on a long winded explanation about how money transferring apps are quicker and more convenient than accepting cash when you interrupt him by sending a photo.

YN * 10:41 AM 

[Attachment: 1 Image] plsssss i don’t trust cashapp and ive been having issues w my venmo acc :(

It’s a photo of the bottom half of your face, lips formed into a cute pout with your camera angled low enough to show off your cleavage. You weren’t even trying to be discreet, setting your forearm underneath your chest to make your boobs sit higher, the cheetah print material of your bra peeking out from under your too-small tank top.

Heeseung swallows hard, staring down at the photo with his pupils blown wide as his trembling fingers type out a response.

Heeseung * 10:50 AM

Actually you know what don’t even worry about it lmao Consider it a gift When r u free for pickup Or i can bring to u Either or is fine lol

YN * 10:59 AM

omg :o are u sure?  don’t want u to lose out on money >.<

Heeseung * 11:11 AM

It’s fine dw about me baby U picking up? Or want me to drop off On campus is too risky

YN * 11:12 AM

thank u hee!!!!!!! im done with classes around 4:30 i’ll pick up around then if that works also u responded at 11:11…angel number u must be my angel :o

There you go again with your subtle manipulation tactics that Heeseung swears won’t work on him. If there really is angel out of the two of you, it definitely wouldn’t be you, but Heeseung’s not too sure he’d be considered one either. After all, in the twelve minutes it took him to respond to your message, he spent ten of them fucking into his fist as he stared at the photo you sent.

His mind conjured up countless scenarios; leaving hickeys and bite marks across your chest, slipping his dick between your tits as you held them together for him, cumming all over them, fucking anything. Desperate wasn’t even the word.

Heeseung * 11:13 AM

Must be :)

After a month and a half of being your personal baker slash bitchboy, Heeseung really is convinced that you’re using him, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he’s grateful, fully aware that if it weren’t for him being your plug, the two of you likely never would’ve crossed paths despite attending the same universities.

There wasn’t an ounce of school spirit in his body, so he had little to no urgency to attend any of the sporting events you cheered at or one of the many school-sponsored events you were required to attend. Meeting you at that party not too long ago had been his first encounter with you ever, and you clearly left him with a great first impression on him.

Since that night, he’s found himself conjuring up a new batch of edibles for you every week; brownies, cupcakes, cereal bars, whatever the fuck you wanted, and half the time he’d do it for free if it meant he got to give it to you in person.

He still hasn’t convinced you to actually smoke, though, but maybe it’s for the best. The mere thought of getting high with you and how you’d stare him down with half-lidded eyes was enough to make his dick hard — in fact, it already has. Several times.

Enough time has passed to the point where it’s obvious to everyone, yourself included, that Heeseung has genuine feelings for you that go beyond a physical and sexual attraction. Sure, he’s still convinced that you’re a little bit evil and definitely manipulative, but he considers it part of the fun. He’s also deluded himself into having the “I can fix her” mindset that he’s been using to justify his actions of ignoring your red flags.

However, even if he can’t “fix” you, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Red is his favorite color, after all.

“You sound…crazy, and she sounds crazier,” Jake leans against the kitchen counter, raising a concerned brow at Heeseung as he takes a sip of his drink.

“I’m not crazy,” Heeseung corrects, “and YN is…I don’t know, honestly. Leave her alone, dipshit.”

Jake throws a hand up in defense, glaring when a fellow partygoer accidentally bumps into him, nearly causing him to spill his drink. “Rather be a dipshit than a bitchboy.” He mutters loud enough for Heeseung to hear before groaning, “Wow, speak of the devil.”

Heeseung turns, following Jake’s line of sight until he spots you walking through the front door. Stunning as always, your khaki mini skirt and black halter top fitting as if they were custom designed for you and only you.

Despite extending you an invitation to Sunghoon’s birthday party, Heeseung was fairly certain you wouldn’t show up tonight, assuming you’d be consumed with cheer practice or one of your many extracurricular activities to attend. Yet, here you were, a wicked grin on your face as you made eye contact with Heeseung.

He gulps in return, eyes wide as he watches you walk over to him and Jake.

You stand beside Heeseung, shooting him a quick smile before directing your attention to Jake, “Sunghoon! Happy birthday, king!”

Jake side-eyes you, briefly glancing at Heeseung before responding, “I’m not…you know what? Nevermind, thanks.” He takes this as an opportunity to exit the conversation, giving Heeseung a light pat on the shoulder as he leaves.

“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Heeseung comments, leaning against the kitchen countertop.

You shrug, “Wasn’t doing anything else, figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by for a little. Besides, I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah,” you respond, taking a step closer and resting your hand on his bicep, “got anything for me?”

Fuck, Heeseung knew he should’ve made another batch of brownies or some shit. He seriously hadn’t been expecting you to show up tonight, otherwise he would’ve been prepared.

He shakes his head, “Not this time, you should’ve told me you were coming; I would’ve made something.”

You groan, momentarily tilting your head back, “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” his hand lands on your waist, pulling your body until your flush against him, “why won’t you just smoke with me?”

You grimace, shaking your head in response.

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Just once? I know your first time wasn’t that great, but, I really think you’d like it if you tried again.”

“I don’t know, Hee…”

“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, clearing his throat, “smoke with me just this once, and your next few purchases are on me.”

It isn’t much of an offer considering most of the shit he gave you was either free or already extremely discounted, but your eyes light up regardless. “Really?”

Heeseung nods, “I swear.”

You think it over for a moment, the pros instantly outweigh the cons and lead you to accept Heeseung’s desperate offer. 

A few minutes later, you find yourself in a comfortable lounge chair with Heeseung in his backyard, grateful that the remaining partygoers opted to stay indoors, giving you privacy and alone time with him.

You’re sitting sideways on his lap, trying your best to ignore the feeling of his dick pressing right against your ass, neatly rolled blunt in one hand as he uses the other to fish a lighter from his pocket. “You’re nervous,” he comments.

You shake your head, “I’m not.”

“You are, I feel you shaking.”

“I’m fine, just kinda cold. Go on.”

Heeseung studies you for a moment, eye contact strong and intimidating as ever as he brings the blunt to his parted lips. You watch carefully as he brings the lighter towards the tip, focusing entirely too much on the concentrated look on his face as he lights it. Slowly, he begins to rotate it as the end continues to burn, taking a few small puffs here and there.

Satisfied with his creation, Heeseung takes a long, slow drag, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before titling his head away to exhale.

“Your turn,” he says, offering you the blunt.

You hesitantly stare down at it before accepting; it was intimidating to say the least, the scent alone strong enough to make your head hurt. Heeseung watches you patiently, eyes darting between your lips and the blunt in silence.

Deciding you need a little bit of encouragement, he brings his thumb to your lips, parting them slightly as his free-hand wraps around your wrist, “You’ll be fine, trust me.” 

Under the guidance of his calloused hand, you finally bring the blunt up to your lips and briefly inhale before immediately exhaling.

Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, “How’d that feel?”

You ponder for a moment, passing the blunt back to Heeseung, “I don’t feel anything. Literally nothing.”

“I mean, yeah, you didn’t even inhale it.”

You roll your eyes, “Why are there so many steps? This is why I prefer edibles.”

“I’m just showing you that you have other options, babe.”

“Yeah, well I’m sticking to my baked goods. You can have the rest of that, I don’t want anymore.”

Heeseung’s well aware that you’re a woman of your word, and the chances of you ever smoking again were a definite zero, so trying to get you to change your mind was pointless. However, there is one thing that may just work on you.

“Mind if I try something?”

You perk up, “Try what?”

“I do all the work but you still get high.”

You raise a brow, “That’s possible?”

He nods, “All you’d have to do is take deep breaths.”

Taking a deep breath, you accept Heeseung’s offer with a sigh, resting a hand on his shoulder as you adjust yourself on his lap. “Fine.”

Here goes nothing.

He guides the blunt back to his lips, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth. He tilts his head upward towards you, taking your chin in his hand, signaling for you to part your lips. You follow his command and part your lips open, just enough for Heeseung to close the distance and allow the smoke into your mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours in the process.

You take in a deep breath, eyes closed shut and inhale the smoke, careful not to exhale too quickly and have a repeat of your previous attempt.

“How was that?” Heeseung asks, taking note of your sudden silence.

Truthfully, it wasn’t bad. The smell is still too strong for your liking and requires much more effort than biting off a piece of dessert and calling it a day, but it wasn’t bad. You’re certain that Heeseung shotgunning it into your mouth only added to the experience.

“Not bad,” you admit, “probably because you did all the work.”

He chuckles at that, “I’ll always take care of you, remember that.”

Heeseung is having the time of his life, thoroughly convinced that he finally has some power over you. Here you were sitting on his lap in his backyard letting him blow smoke into your mouth. Sure, it may have taken a lot of convincing and begging on his end to get to this point, but none of that matters; baby steps are still movement.

As if the night couldn’t have gotten any better, you’re asking Heeseung to shotgun more smoke into your mouth over and over. He’s careful to maintain a calm and nonchalant demeanor as he does so, not wanting to come off as too eager out of fear of scaring you away. Or even worse, giving you back that power you have over him.

On the fifth time, you swipe your tongue across Heeseung’s bottom lip when he passes the smoke into your mouth, a low groan escaping from him in the process. He’s fully hard in his jeans by now, and there’s no way you can’t feel his dick pressing right into you. Despite the cold weather, your entire body feels warm all over, Heeseung only adding to the pleasure.

You should’ve taken Heeseung a bit more seriously when he said you’d still get high from this; after a few minutes, your limbs were already starting to feel lighter and weaker. A delicate, cloud-like haze fills your head; your vision blurs slightly and it takes a few minutes for you to fully relax.

Heeseung, attentive as ever, remains silent and still has he watches you; primarily due to the fact that you squirming around on his lap is only adding to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. One wrong move, and he’d surely be cumming in his boxers.

You rest your forehead against Heeseung, pressing a firm hand against his chest when he moves to blow more smoke into your mouth. He hums, staring up at with a concerned look on his face.

You close your eyes, mumbling, “Heeseung…”

He hums again in response, still holding the smoke in his mouth.

You open your eyes briefly before closing them again, balling up the collar of his shirt in your fist as you lean down to press your lips against his. He opens his mouth on instinct, as if it were a second nature, parting his lips slightly and exhaling the smoke into your mouth once again.

Heeseung absentmindedly sets the blunt down, his hands moving to your waist to pull you closer to him until your tits are pressed right up against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the feelings, tilting his head to allow himself further into your mouth. 

You cup his face in your hands, hips moving forward as you slowly begin to grind yourself against him. “Fuck,” he moans in a low voice, “keep doing that.”

You grind down harsher this time, capturing his moan in your mouth in the process. With each movement of your hips, a shiver descends down your spine at the friction; Heeseung is painfully hard, and from what you could feel, he was definitely packing. Bigger than what you would’ve expected.

It all feels too good; you grinding against him, the state of his high, your tongue in his mouth. It’s all so overwhelmingly euphoric that Heeseung hardly realizes how close he is to literally cumming in his boxers.

His body was always overly sensitive whenever he got high, and often avoided any sort of intimacy that involved another person due to how embarrassingly quick he would finish, and tonight doesn't seem to be any different. What makes matters worse is the fact that Heeseung was already desperately attracted to you and had been dreaming of this moment since he’d first met you.

He pulls away quickly, cursing under his breath, “YN, h-hold on,” he stutters, “slow down, please.”

You don’t listen; in fact, you can barely even hear him with how caught up you were in your own head. “Hmm? Say that again?”

“S-slow – ah, fuck – slow down for a sec, baby.”

His grip on your waist tightens, and despite the urgency in his tone of wanting you to slow down, he makes no effort to still your hips move you off of him. Fuck it, it is what it is.

“Why?” You question, tilting your head, but you’re a few seconds too late.

Heeseung’s entire body shivers, hips jolting upwards as he comes on himself, making a mess of his boxers. While that alone was definitely embarrassing, Heeseung is more annoyed over the fact that you’ve regained your power over him. His priorities were definitely fucked, but he didn’t even care; he could clean himself up later, but the damage to his ego would take longer to repair.

Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, eyes widening as you process what’s just happened, “Oh, Heeseung…” you mumble into the palm of your hands.

He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he runs a hand down his face, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.”

“It’s okay! It happens! No big deal!” You try to reassure him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.

Sure it happens and maybe it isn’t a big deal, but it is for Heeseung. He’s not the type to bust a nut over someone squirming around in his lap for ten minutes, this shit was fucking insanity.

“I’m seriously not like this, I’m just overly-sensitive when I’m high. I swear, I-”

“It’s fine, Heeseung,” you interrupt, standing from his lap, “if anything, I’m flattered! Why don’t you, uh, get cleaned up and I’ll see you later?”

“YN, come on, don’t do this.” He pleads, following you and you make your way towards the sliding door. 

“I told you, it’s fine! I’m not like,” you pause, opening the door with a loud grunt, “mad or weirded out or anything.”

You slip back into the living room, Heeseung hot on your tail with every step. “Let me make it up to you!”

You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you to do that right now.”

“I do! Just let me, please.”

“Heeseung, please drop it. I said it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, at least let me eat you out or something!”

“Heeseung!” Your eyes widen at his lewd, shameless offer, “Lower your voice! We’re in a fucking party surrounded by people!”

He smacks his teeth, “I don’t care. Please, YN.”

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you do not owe me anything.”

A beat of silence passes, then he says, “Then do it for me. Please.”

Even though Heeseung was the one literally begging to go down for you, there is a possibility of him having some sort of power over you; or maybe you just have a soft spot for him. Either way, you end up lying in his bed twenty minutes later, skirt bunched up around your waist as Heeseung’s wet tongue circles your clit, desperate attempt at coaxing a second orgasm from you.

He hadn’t even realized he’d grown hard again just from eating you out, and would likely end up cuuming in his boxers again just from doing this.

“Fuck,” he moans into your folds, pulling away slightly to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, “been waiting so fucking long for this.”

“Yeah?” You question, your grip on Heeseung’s hair tightening.

This earns a low groan from him as he nods against your skin, “You have no idea.”

Deciding he’s spent enough time away from your cunt, his lips make their way back onto you; his tongue falls flat against you, dragging your wetness upwards towards your swollen clit before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud.

Your body shivers, a beam of sweat dripping down your forehead as your second orgasm approaches. You’ve been eaten out before, countless times, but never like this. It was almost as if Heeseung was doing it for his own pleasure rather than your.

He teases your entrance with his finger before sliding two of them in with ease, curling them upwards and immediately hitting the spot you needed him the most.

“H-Heeseung…hold on…”

He hums, but he’s not really listening, too occupied with kitten-licking your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you. The knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re gushing against his hands and mouth, Heeseung only takes this as a sign to continue lapping at your cunt. You have to literally grab him by the hair and drag him away from you.

He stares up at you, pupils blown wide and his chin coated in your juices, but he definitely looks happy. “What?” he asks.

You struggle to catch your breath, “You’re hard again?”

He looks down at his crotch momentarily before shrugging, “I guess.”

“You…don’t you wanna do something about that?”

His eyes flash down to your cunt for a split second, “It can wait.”

You scoff, “Well, I need a minute.”

Heeseung nods in agreement, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bed as you flop against his mattress. “Ready?” He asks once a minute has passed.

“No.”

He sighs, then sighs again, and again and again until you let out a frustrated groan. “Go get me a glass of fucking water.”

“Okay!” He shouts while standing, exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Maybe you really do treat him like a bitchboy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

[tpwrtrmnky]

invaders

[ID: Thirteen panel comic with crudely drawn stick people divided across four images.

Panel 1: A blue person with pointy ears on top of their square head watches two grayscale stick people argue.

Grayscale 1: "Hah, you fool! Nobody actually thinks they're blue, we're just being polite because they look blue enough!"

Grayscale 2: "You admit it openly! You admit the lies of chroma ideology, greenie!"

Grayscale 1: "Owned again! I am not green!"

Panel 2: A reddish-orange person talks to another grayscale person while Blue watches dejectedly.

Reddish-orange: "I mean back in my day we were content with just getting to be primary colors, but now that they're also asking for us to be treated like fully worthwhile people rather than freaks? I think the chromatic movement's gone too far."

Grayscale: "Wow! A reasonable one!"

R.O.: "Yeah I'm one of the good ones. Will you respect me for it?"

Grayscale: "Haha no, but I'll exploit you as long as you're useful to me!"

Panel 3: A grayscale person approaches blue from behind.

Grayscale: "Hey why do you have to go all the way to being an entire blue dog person? Can't you just be a normal person who pees outside?"

Blue, in narration: "And so, on that day, I finally accepted that it was time to leave."

Panel 4: The blue dogperson is now in a more deliberately rendered room with beige walls, kneeling and wearing sunglasses. An orange dogperson is laying on the floor next to them.

Blue: "I… We only wanted to be left alone. But even this place isn't safe from them anymore."

Orange: "Why is it so bad to have to deal with people who disagree with us?"

Panel 5: Blue looks dejectedly, with dramatic shadows across their face.

Blue: "This is why you've yet to earn our trust, Orangepup Dogsaturated. You fail to distinguish between legitimate debate and thinly veiled harassment."

Panel 6: The Most Illiterate Person Alive, a grayscale stick person riddled with still-bleeding bullet wounds, looms ominously at the outskirts of a nearby forest.

Blue, narrating: "As for that thing… Far from a person with legitimate views to debate, I have doubts regarding whether it is even a person."

Illiterate: "I am… the most… ill…itt…er…ate….. person…. alive….."

Panel 7: The most illiterate person alive leans down, breathing heavily. The dialogue is just "h" over and over.

Panel 8: Indoors, a hot pink person with fluffy fur is talking into a walkie-talkie, and an onyx-colored person is aiming a sniper rifle out the window.

Hot Pink: "Comrades! There's movement again! They're up to something!"

Panel 9: The most illiterate person alive leans back, screaming: "Holy fucking shitfuck"

Panel 10: A dramatic zoom out shows more of the forest as the most illiterate person alive screams: "I can't fucking believe these dogpeople want to make everywhere a public bathroom!"

Panel 11: A view of the dog people's barn from within the dark depths of the woods, where grayscale people are lurking. The most illiterate person alive is continuing to scream: "They hate supply chains for lifesaving medicine! They want to force everyone to be green and worship Barxism!"

Panel 12: A view of the sky with a mountain in the distance. A large number of voices with increasing frequency and intensity say "Holy shit" over and over.

Panel 13: Out of the woods a swarm of grayscale people emerge, using a variety of creative approaches to movement, screaming:

"I have some concerns!" "Would you like to debate this issue?" "You need a healthy debate climate!" "You should hear out opposing viewpoints!" "Stop censoring me"

The comic ends at this and you are left questioning what the fuck that was.

End ID.]

Start - Previous - Next

[ahqkas]

Hello! ^^

First, just wanna say your blog is amazing. Second, what kind of shenanigans do you think would ensue with the batboys having a hyper physically clingy S/O? Like their S/O would get so excited they're home and just tackle hug them before they make it past the door kind of clingy.

♯ FRIDAY I’M IN LOVE . . . ( the batboys ! )

— gn!reader, fluff

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE

bruce wayne, the ever-composed patriarch of the family, would at first have no idea how to handle such enthusiasm. his s/o being hyper-physically affectionate would probably throw him completely off-balance at first—not because he doesn’t enjoy the affection but because he’s not used to being greeted like that.

( the door creaks open as bruce steps inside the manor, still half-lost in the grim report alfred had handed him earlier. before he even sets his briefcase down, a blur barrels toward him, arms wide, a gleeful shout of his name ringing through the grand hall.

he braces himself instinctively like he’s about to be tackled by a rogue metahuman. “wait—” is all he manages before you collide with him, wrapping him in a bear hug strong enough to make his muscles tense. for a second, bruce freezes like a deer in headlights.

“miss me?” you grin, cheek pressed to his chest as you sway him back and forth like a tree in a storm.

bruce glances down, trying to maintain the stoic facade, but his lips twitch, betraying the barest hint of amusement. “you know, most people say hello first.”

alfred passes by with an arched brow and a muttered, “at least you don’t end up unconscious, master wayne.”

he sighs, exasperated but secretly endeared. he knows by now resistance is futile. one hand rests awkwardly on your back, the other fumbling to steady the files tucked under his arm. “you’re going to sprain something one day,” he murmurs, though there’s a faint warmth in his tone. )

the first time you tackle-hugged him after patrol, bruises and all, bruce immediately went into “are you hurt?” mode despite being the one who should be resting. “you can’t just launch yourself at me like that—you could get hurt,” he’d chide, even as he gently pulls you closer to make sure you’re okay.

alfred would quietly revel in the sheer domestication of bruce’s typically aloof charge. “ah, nothing like unrestrained enthusiasm to balance out your brooding, sir.”

DICK GRAYSON

dick grayson would be all in for having a hyper-physically affectionate s/o. the guy thrives on connection, and someone who matches his energy—or even outpaces it—would not only make him laugh but also make him feel completely loved. if anything, your clingy antics would ignite a bit of playful competition as dick tries to out-affection you, though he’d absolutely let you win most of the time.

( the moment he unlocks the door after a patrol, the creak of the hinges is your signal to strike. without hesitation, you launch yourself at him like a projectile, arms wide and grinning ear to ear.

“dick!”

“whoa—!” he yelps, barely managing to catch you before you tackle him into the doorframe. one arm wraps around your waist while the other steadies both of you. “are you trying to kill me, or…?” he teases, his voice light with laughter.

“i’m just so happy you’re home!” you say, nuzzling into his neck.

“yeah? well, i love being tackled the moment i step inside,” he says sarcastically, but the grin splitting his face is entirely genuine. “i mean, forget taking off my boots or hanging up my jacket—this is exactly what i needed.” he spins you around for good measure, making you laugh as he carries you further inside. )

dick would absolutely take your clinginess as a challenge to see who could be more over-the-top. you tackle-hug him at the door? he’ll scoop you up and spin you. you randomly leap on his back during a walk? he’ll carry you piggyback all the way home. it’s basically a constant competition to outdo each other.

one time, you caught him mid-workout and tried to climb on his back during push-ups. he pretended to be annoyed but ended up laughing so hard he couldn’t finish his reps. “you’re impossible,” he’d say between laughs, letting you sit on his back as he fake-struggled to keep going.

JASON TODD

jason todd would act like he didn’t know how to handle having such a clingy and affectionate s/o, but deep down, he’d secretly live for it. the guy has been through hell and back, so having someone who’s so unapologetically excited to see him would catch him off-guard at first—but it would also heal a part of him he didn’t know was still raw. he might grumble, roll his eyes, and mutter sarcastic quips, but the way he’d instinctively hold onto you would give away just how much he craves your affection.

( jason walks through the apartment door, shoulders tense from a long night of patrol, his helmet tucked under one arm. he barely gets two steps inside before the sound of your excited yell fills the air.

“jay!”

before he can react, you’re barreling toward him, all wild energy and open arms. “oh, shi—” the rest of his curse is cut off as you launch yourself at him, practically climbing him like a tree. he stumbles back a step, caught off-guard but reflexively wrapping his arms around you to keep you both steady.

“missed me?” you ask with a grin, nuzzling into his neck as your legs wrap around his waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

jason sighs, trying to sound exasperated but failing miserably. “miss you? you act like i’ve been gone for months. i was literally out for, what, five hours?”

“too long,” you mumble into his shoulder, squeezing him tighter.

despite his words, you feel his shoulders relax as he hugs you back. “you’re ridiculous, you know that?” he says softly, his voice a little rough around the edges but warm. )

jason would never stop pretending to grumble about your antics. “do you have to tackle me every time i walk through the door? my ribs aren’t exactly indestructible.” but if you ever didn’t tackle him, he’d immediately notice. “what, no welcome-home ambush? you mad at me or something?”

he would absolutely start using your clinginess against you. if he wanted your attention, he’d dramatically throw himself onto the couch and groan, “i can’t go on. i need one of your hugs to survive.”

TIM DRAKE

tim drake would initially be overwhelmed by having such a physically clingy s/o, mostly because he’s used to people respecting his personal bubble—or just not being that excited to see him. but once he got past the initial shock, he’d secretly love it, even if he was absolutely terrible at expressing that in words. your affectionate antics would constantly fluster him, but he’d quickly become addicted to the way you made him feel wanted and cared for.

( if you interrupted tim in the middle of one of his all-nighters, the results would be like this: imagine him sitting at his desk, surrounded by coffee cups and glowing monitors, so hyper-focused that he doesn’t even hear you sneaking up behind him.

suddenly, your arms wrap around his shoulders, and you rest your chin on top of his head. “hi,” you whisper, making him jump so hard he almost knocks over his coffee.

“[name]!” he hisses, spinning around to glare at you, his heart racing.

“sorry, couldn’t resist,” you say with a cheeky grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

tim sighs, trying to look annoyed, but the light blush creeping up his neck gives him away. “you’re ridiculous,” he mutters, but instead of pushing you away, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. “if i let you stay, will you let me finish his report?”

“no promises.” )

your ambushes would frequently catch tim off-guard, leading to spilled coffee, toppled stacks of paperwork, and at least one destroyed keyboard. “[name], i love you, but you’re going to bankrupt me in tech replacements,” he’d grumble while cleaning up the latest mess.

he would eventually start using your affection as an excuse to take breaks. if you tackled him while he was working, he’d let out a long-suffering sigh and say, “fine. five minutes. but only because you’re so insistent.” cue you dragging him to the couch for cuddles while he pretends to be annoyed.

ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work , please consider reblogging and / or commenting ! thank you if you do 🤍

[sugarushwriting]

cherry popper

heeseung x reader

getting your cherry popped by popular f-boy, lee heeseung

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

requests are open

tonight, you were on a mission. on a mission to get rid of your virginity! maybe a frat party wasn’t the best place to lose your virginity, but you knew who you wanted to take it.

lee heeseung.

except you didn’t know if he cherry popped girls or wanted them already experienced.

you couldn’t blame him or any guys though if they preferred not to be the one to take a girl’s virginity. there was a bad stigma around girls who had sex for the first time.

they became attached. needed rose petals and slow sex. needed to cuddle afterwards.

well, not you. at your age, you just wanted it out of the way. the term “virginity” was stupid anyway.

you’ve heard the good things about lee heeseung when it comes to his bed activities. so why not lose your virginity to a guy who was 99% sure to make you come your first time?

there’s nothing more depressing than having your first time be with a guy who is terrible in bed.

your friend knocked on your forehead with a laugh. “you okay?”

you nodded with a smile. “still on the hunt.”

“he’ll be here any minute. just remember, don’t pounce on him. you have to seem mysterious. he’s never seen you here before, so just seem uninterested. he’ll come to you.”

“got it!” you nodded and took a small sip of your cup. you didn’t want to be drunk or even tipsy, but just wanted enough to calm your nerves.

you’ve heard how alcohol ruins some people’s sex drives. even heard the term, ‘whiskey dick,’ so you’re hoping heeseung doesn’t suffer from that.

forty minutes passed, and you still hadn’t seen heeseung, giving up to even look for him. you sighed and looked at your friend.

“i’m going to the bathroom.”

“need me?”

you shook your head. “i’ll be fine.”

you made your way up the stairs, following your friends directions to the bathroom upstairs. your pink miniskirt for sure was covering nothing of your behind, but your friend convinced you to show more skin than usual. your baby tee was tight and short, perfectly flaunting your chest.

once you finished in the bathroom, you quickly gave yourself a once over look in the mirror and opened the door, only to run into a tall figure.

well if that wasn’t perfect timing and a coincidence by the universe.

“hmp, sorry!” you huffed out looking up to eye heeseung.

“no worries baby. haven’t seen you around here before?” he smiled.

oh damn he was a smooth talker.

“oh yeah—first party, with, um, my friend.” you stuttered out.

there was no need for you to pretend to be all shy around him. his aura made you shy. you still had to force yourself to not outright ask, ‘hey heeseung, can you take my virginity?’

all heeseung was doing was smiling at you and you felt intimated. how the fuck were you gonna get this man in bed?

heeseung proved to be easy.

his eyes flipped from your eyes to your lips, back to your eyes, suddenly wanting a taste of the girl who’s never been to a party before. who he has never seen before.

his thumb traced your bottom lip, his own bottom lip being caught between his teeth. “i saw you downstairs with your friend, and thought to myself, ‘damn she’s hot as fuck.’” heeseung whispered out to you.

“re—really?” you asked surprised.

how long has he been here? eyeing you? why hadn’t you seen him walk in?

he nodded, “i knew i had to have you.” he said leaning down to kiss your lips with a peck, leaving you wanting more.

yeah, he wanted you for sure because yes, you were cute, but also, fresh-meat at this party. he couldn’t let his friends get to the cute new girl first.

from observation, he could tell you were the shy type, and he was allured even more by you because of that.

the peck left you wanting more. his lips were just so soft. you’ve kissed boys before, but his lips were the softest.

“mhm, wanna make out?”

“are you twelve?” you teased at the way he asked you.

heeseung chuckled. “just trying to be polite.”

you nodded. he grabbed your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. heeseung pulled you to a bedroom at the end of the hall.

surprisingly the room was clean and neat. you’ve seen the horror pictures and movies and videos of frat houses.

your friend had told you, the upstairs was completely off limits and they reinforced it. but if you had to use the bathroom (the clean one) sneak upstairs. she had distracted the guy blocking the stairs.

you stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, after heeseung let go of your hand, walking towards the bed.

he smirked. “no need to be shy.” he patted his lap. “you can come sit.”

he wants you to sit on his lap?

you slowly walked towards him, slowly resting on his lap. your knees on either side of his hips. his own hands went to rest on your hips.

bringing your lips down to meet his, you both started making out like a bunch of horny teens. heeseung took it slow with you at first, before his kisses became more desperate and longing. wanting more from you.

his hands squeezed your hips, catching you off guard, and he took the opportunity to poke his tongue in your mouth.

your hands wrapped around his neck, your lower half beginning to feel a bit wet. heeseungs own lower half was starting to get hard, you able to feel him through his jeans and your short skirt.

you rubbed your lower half against him, heeseung letting out a low gritted moan. “keeping doing that and i will come in my pants.” he gripped your ass from under your skirt.

you smiled against his kisses. “again, what are you? a teenage boy?”

heeseung actually loved the teasing. he squeezed your hips tighter, tickling lightly, causing you to squeal.

he flipped you on your back on the bed so he was hovering over you. his lips never leaving yours, he lifted your skirt up more, pulling your underwear to the side.

his middle finger rubbed circles around your clit and the hole of your cunt, teasing you to get you worked up, slick, and ready for him.

his finger teased at your entrance, he could feel the tightness of you.

although you’ve pleasured yourself a few times, your fingers were in no comparison to heeseung.

heeseungs finger slowly entered you, his lips still not leaving their spot from you, and as he slowly inched deeper, you whined into his mouth at the feeling.

slight sting but feeling good. heeseung slowly added another finger and began pumping his fingers in and out of you, his lips moving to suck on a sweet spot on your neck.

an odd sensation came, you riding heeseungs fingers, feeling your stomach feel tight, your cunt becoming needier.

“ride my fingers, there you go.” heeseung said to you.

you bit your lower lip and an over pleasuring sensation came over you.

did you just come? you thought it’d be more intense than that.

you felt good, and when he went to rub his fingers against your clit, you did feel over sensitive.

you didn’t realize heeseung had left a hickey on your neck.

heeseung removed his fingers from you, standing up to unbutton his belt and pants pulling them and his boxers down.

leaning on your elbows, your eyes widened at his length. aw shit.

heeseung pumped his own length a few times, “mhm, open your mouth.”

“can you be a little nicer?” you asked with a smile.

“please open your mouth?”

you nodded and scooted towards the end of the bed where you sat comfortably while heeseung stood.

you licked his tip, swirling your tongue around the head before slowly taking just the head in between your lips giving it a suck.

“please don’t tease.” heeseung sighed. your mouth just felt too good.

you smiled with his dick in your mouth, opening a bit wider to take his length in as much as you could. your hand stimulating whatever was left over and his balls.

you did have a gag reflex, and you weren’t about to test it now.

“fuck, so good. please come to these parties more often.” heeseung sighed out as your head pumped back and forth against him.

you sucked, your tongue swirling against the underside, your hand putting small pressure on his balls, squeezing just right for him.

heeseungs hand went to the back of your head, and when he pushed a bit for more than you could take, you choked, your gag reflex kicking in.

you pulled away, needing to breathe, a line of your spit between his tip and your lips.

“fuck that was hot. i love a girl with a gag reflex honestly.” heeseung moaned. he took your jaw back in between his hands, his thumb tapping your lower lip to open.

you followed, and he stuffed his dick back into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat, you gagging once again.

heeseung had to control himself to not lose control and just fuck your face.

as you bobbed your head, heeseung also moved his hips back and forth. “mhm, mouth feels so good, i’m gonna come.”

you used your hand to help stimulate what your mouth couldn’t. heeseungs moans became lower and more messy.

“fuck, can i come in your mouth?”

you nodded, and that’s all he needed before hot spurts of his come entered your throat. heeseung let out strings of curse words in pleasure.

“fuck that was hot.” he mumbled, catching his breath.

with your skirt still flipped up, heeseung undressed your lower half completely, and he finished taking off his clothing, grabbing a condom from the pocket of his jeans.

most girls would probably be like, ‘return the favor!’ but if you came one more time without his dick, you wouldn’t have the stanima to go a third round on his dick. tonight, you were okay with giving a blowjob and not getting your pussy ate.

heeseung kissed you, tasting himself, biting your lower lip, all while slipping on the condom.

you hadn’t realized how fast and skilled he was until you felt his head prodding your hole.

“oh fuck!” you whispered. your eyes squeezed shut, one hand gripping his shoulder, the other the bed covers.

“mhm so tight, like no one’s ever fucked this pussy.” heeseung mumbled out.

he slowly eased into you, feeling the warmth and resistance but thought nothing much of it. heeseung thought maybe you just hadn’t been with a guy of his size.

you bit down on your lower lip, the stinging sensation back, you fighting off the feeling of the pain trying to focus on the pleasure.

breathing deeply through your nose, you tried your best to relax, heeseungs eyebrows knitted in confusion and focus.

he slowly moved his length back and forth, feeling your hand tighten on his shoulder.

that’s when it hit him. the tightness and resistance. your eyebrows knitted, eyes closed. your hand having a death grip on him and the bed.

“are you fucking serious?” he said out loud, taking you off guard, you opened your eyes, “are you a virgin?” he narrowed his eyes at you.

a tear dropped down your cheek, you sniffling your nose. “please don’t be mad.” you sighed out a little sob.

heeseung shook his head. “it’s not that im mad, im just—i don’t know.”

regardless, heeseung didn’t pull out, but he didn’t move further. he stayed still inside of you.

you sniffled again. “it’s just—i—i was tired of being a virgin, and i heard about your reputation of being with a lot of girls and being able to please them. i didn’t want my first time to suck, and i debated on telling you, but i didn’t know if you were the type to get an ick when it came to virgins!”

heeseung lowered his head in shame. he couldn’t believe someone who sucked dick so good was a virgin.

“you suck dick too good for a virgin.” he said then raised his eyebrow at you.

you smiled shyly, “i uh, never did that either.”

“fuck! what have you done that i wasn’t your first?”

“i’ve used my own fingers, but of course that doesn’t compare to yours. and yes, i have kissed others before.”

heeseung sighed, “this is bad,”

before he could finish you cut him off, “no! it doesn’t have to be okay? i promise i won’t get attached, i am not expecting anything from you after this okay? i don’t need roses or cuddles either. i know what i’m getting myself into, heeseung.”

“you know my name, but i don’t even know yours. can i at least have the name of the girl’s virginity i took?”

you told him your name. “i’m really sorry, i didn’t mean to undermine you.”

heeseung laughed, “yes you did and it’s honestly okay and kind of refreshing. usually im the one undermining girls.”

all while this conversation went on, heeseung was still hard and sat still in you.

“i’m surprised you’re still hard.”

“my dick is in a tight pussy. a virgin pussy. must have a virginity or corruption kink, i guess.”

“i’m okay. can we please continue, heeseung?”

heeseung nodded slowly. “only if i can be the first one to eat that pussy too.”

you chuckled, “as you wish.”

heeseung began to move, his pace slow. he finished bottoming out, a loud moan leaving your lips, but you tapped his shoulder with two fingers, to let him know to keep going.

heeseung pulled out to his tip, before he bottomed out once again. although you were a virgin, he wasn’t going to be too gentle with you, and you were okay with that.

after a few thrusts it began to feel better. “mhm, feels better heeseung.” you groaned, your head resting to the side.

you wrapped your legs around heeseung, locking him in, your hand resting on his cheek, bringing him down for a kiss.

“can’t believe you let me fuck this pussy first. chose me.” heeseung moaned. “so happy you let me fuck you first. going to ruin you for anyone else. not going to want anyone’s cock but mine.”

heeseung began his spew of dirty talk, which just made you wetter by each statement.

who knew dirty talk would turn you on so much.

“looks like my cherry likes dirty talk.” heeseung laughed as his pace sped up just a bit.

heeseung sat up on his knees, taking you at a different angle so he could reach deeper, and closer to your cervix.

you looked down, able to see the outline of him inside of you. you moaned at the sight.

“look at you. taking me so well. so tiny underneath me. too big for you baby.”

heeseung slightly put pressure on your lower stomach, your legs wrapping tighter, as you lifted your hips.

“gonna make you come on your first cock, cherry.”

“please make me come, hee.” you begged, your mind going blank, your vision blurry with tears of pleasure.

spews of groans, moans, random words leaving your mouth, mixed with heeseungs name.

oh yes, this was the intense orgasm people talked about. what your friends talked about, and gloated about.

heeseungs finger went to rub circles on your clit, adding pressure which tipped you over the edge.

his dick thrusting in and out. the angle of his dick hitting somewhere within you so good. his thumb on your clit. his palm pressing down on your stomach. his dirty talk and praises.

you were overwhelmed with pleasure. and in no time, with one last scream and cry, heeseungs name leaving your lips, you came around his dick.

heeseung helped you ride out your orgasm while he reached his, stilling inside you, emptying into the condom.

heeseung collapsed above you, nose to nose, and he gave you a peck on your lips, then moved his face to the crook of your neck, leaving a kiss there.

he pulled out, your lower half fluttering at the loss of him, both of you moaning from loss of each other.

heeseung rolled on his back, and took off the condom, noting a little blood. when he looked down, no blood was on him, but he was worried about you.

he looked over to you, no blood on the sheets.

“what?” you asked sitting up, feeling a bit of an ache already settling in.

“let’s get you to the bathroom. there was a bit of blood on the condom.”

your face felt hot in embarrassment. “i’m sorry.” you mumbled.

heeseung kissed your forehead. “no need to be embarrassed. it’s normal and it happens.”

heeseung got up and you followed him to the bathroom.

you made sure to empty your bladder, just tiny spotting. you groaned. “i can’t ruin my underwear.” you sighed. this was so embarrassing.

heeseung opened the cabinet, you looked over seeing pads and liners. looking back at him with a glaring expression.

“this is jays bathroom. he’s a romantic, always making sure whatever girl he’s with at the time is covered.” heeseung explained, scratching the back of his head.

“maybe i should have had jay take my virginity then.” you joked.

heeseung didn’t laugh. “absolutely not. you’re off limits to him and any of my friends now.”

crossing your arms, you stared into his eyes, “now who’s the clingy one after taking someone’s virginity?”

“get used to it cherry.”

“cherry?”

“yeah, cause i popped your cherry.”

you pushed his shoulder. “you are so—!”

“sexy? handsome? amazing in bed? i know.”

you both laughed easing any tension or doubts between one another.

heeseung left you to finish your business in the bathroom and get dressed, as he got back dressed in the bedroom.

you felt guilty allowing him to take your virginity—have sex—in his friend’s bed.

when you came out the bathroom you said, “should we offer to wash his bed sheets?”

“don’t worry, he’ll make me wash his sheets, cleanse his room, perform an exorcism.”

you both chuckled opening the door, jay leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed, not a happy smile.

“i lock my door for a reason! you’re damn right you’ll be washing my bedding AND performing that exorcism.”

poor jay.

[bcbryar]

Text from Tom's music video:

TommyInnit just posted a song and a video, and in the video there's a bunch of quick, flashing screens with text. I screenshotted them all and transcribed them in this post (below the cut because it's kind of long).

If you find a corner of this world wide web that has any substance at all, then please stick to it. The hundreds of millions of people that now place absolutely no value on their time, their precious time, and spend it watching soulless content designed to hold their attention is depressing. This all depressed me. There is so little substance in this mess of a world wide web. So little heart or soul or love. If you find any substance, stick to it.

A Tribute To Minecraft, The Great Potato War, TheOriginalAce's Q&A's, Ludwig's 2020 streams, SMPLive Talent Show. This was everything to me.

Status is irrational & nature is cyclical It's attention porn. Don't get addicted to it. It's nothing. It means nothing. They are more insecure than you. But what the fuck do I know?

When I was a boy, alone, this meant everything to me. I found my people. My place. Along the way I was a part of something that really meant something. That is the only good bit. Whatever I did that meant something, that is the only good bit.

I CAN'T WATCH BACK MY OLD VIDEOS BECAUSE EVERYONE IN THEM WASN'T WHO THEY SAID THEY WERE. DO YOU KNOW HOW SAD THIS MAKES ME FEEL. DO YOU KNOW HOW SAD I HAVE FELT ALL YEAR.

HOW COULD ANYONE POSSIBLY FIND OUT WHO THEY ARE WHEN YOU ARE ALL IMMERSED IN THIS NEEDLESS, SELF INDULGENT SPIRAL OF INSTANT GRATIFICATION AND DISTRACTION. THIS IS NOT GOOD FOR YOU.

[Text is upside down in the video] I don't think I trust anyone here. I don't think anyone trusts anyone here. the poor 12 year old watching this sad ass video when he subscribed for funny minecraft videos. poor guy lmao.

yeah i know it's too much like bo burnham. It won't be in a year though. IN a year it will be like Tom Simons. Just let me figure out what that means, OK?

I used to feel like I was just doing everything wrong. That I just wasn't smart or good like any of my friends. I realise now I was the only one doing the right thing. I just wanted to have fun. What I'd do to get that back, my god. What I'd do. To have things be simple again.

I just don't want to slip back into who I was. A year ago I needed you. A year ago most of my self esteem and worth and love came from you. A year ago I wasn't happy unless you were. I don't think I can ever do that again. That really was wrong. How did I possibly end up there?

[elara-in-the-sky]

I remember back when I was in middle school and had internet access for the first time and really started getting into fandoms and I made the cheesiest art and shitty memes and edits but because of that I also made the best friends I could have had at the time. like I don't talk to a single one any more but I can say without a doubt they are the sole reason I didn't kill myself when I was younger. like having a welcoming space to be weird and bad at things and be confused and talk about feelings and learning that you can be queer and it's okay and just there's so much I learned and emotionally gained from being in fandom spaces when I was younger and now I can't remember the last time I spoke with a mutual or was in a fandom group chat or saw people proudly sharing a kids bad fan art because they're young and learning and involved and that's exciting and you want to foster their creativity and idk it just makes me so sad that its all like "wow co cringe core" or whatever and it's like yeah fandom spaces have always been "cringey" but we were cringey together and gah I feel strongly about this shit

"Waa why aren't fandoms fun anymore" because you keep policing people's headcanons, make fun of cosplayers,make fun of selfshipers, make fun of beginner artists and just make fun of people for having fun 😐

[no-144444]

lies and flights- o.piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! Skyf1interviewer! reader

summary: you two have a moment, the moment ends, and so does something else...

part one | part two | part three | part four

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He sighed as he walked into the paddock, cameras all over him as question after question was thrown at him. He answered as many as were appropriate and off he went, signing hats and t-shirts as he went. He had so much to do, so much to get through before qualifying, yet all he could think about was you. He didn’t mean to make it a big deal, he just wanted to take care of you. You’d fainted, for god’s sake. He was worried about you. 

He caught a glimpse of you walking in with Lando as he was filming some random content for one of the sponsor's instagram pages, and his mood sank lower than it already had been. You with Lando. 

It’s not like either of you had confessed, but you’d both felt the chemistry between the two of you, right? He finished up with filming and followed Tom into one of the meeting rooms, ready to look over data, when he (literally) bumped into you, sending you flying. 

“Shit, sorry,” he muttered as he caught you, holding you by the waist. “My bad.”

You smiled. “Saving me two days in a row? You should be a bodyguard instead of a driver,” you chuckled. “Thanks Osc.”

Lando’s jaw dropped when he heard you call him ‘Osc’, and a sense of pride bloomed in his chest. Osc was getting the girl! Lando sent him a quick thumbs up behind your back as he also held the camera. 

“What’re you doing here?” Oscar asked, not yet letting go of you. His hands were so warm, radiating heat through your whole body and making you nervous. You had a love-hate relationship with interactions with Oscar. He made you so nervous, no matter what. Your years of media training and professionalism could get stripped back by one small chuckle, one small smile, making eye contact. It was embarrassing. You liked him so much, which was a separate can of worms itself, and he looked at you the same way he looked at everyone.

“Motorhome tour,” you explained, looking up at him. He could’ve sworn he saw something in your eyes, something that practically asked him to make a move, to kiss you here in front of everyone. Then it was gone just as quickly as it appeared, your professionalism taking precedence over your feelings. “Moving on,” you turned back to the camera as Oscar dropped his hands from your waist, allowing you to move on. “To the driver’s rooms!”

He chuckled as he watched you and Lando run towards the other side of the motorhome, and Oscar started walking again, not unaware of the eyes Tom was giving him. 

“You two seem close,” he smirked. “The shoes aren’t a dealbreaker, no?”

He laughed. “Why does everyone bring up the shoes?!”

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“Congratulations on P3, Judgy McJudgy Pants! How did the race feel?” you questioned. You were doing post-race interviews today, and Oscar had gone from P5 to P3. 

“Yeah, it was difficult but we kept a good pace, Max was just too fast to catch,” he nodded, his eyes staring into yours. 

“I’m glad to hear, are you glad for the race to be over?”

He nodded, chuckling. “Very glad.”

“The heat must be something else in those cars, on top of the regular heat. Does that make getting out of the car a lot more of a relief?” 

“It does, but I was more excited about the interviewer,” he smirked. He was not doing this right now. He was not flirting with you on live television. You got the signal that the interview should end and you let out a quick breath of relief. 

“Well thank you, but I in fact need to interview your fellow podium drivers, thanks for your time.”

Lando walked over, ready to take the mic and he smirked at Oscar. “Getting bold?”

He shrugged with a smile. “What’s the worst she can say?” 

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"Oscar Jack Piastri!" Nicole's voice rang out as he lifted his phone to his ear. "My son flirting with people on live television is not something I want to see."

He chuckled as he mother continued berating him, and they chatted about the race for a while, before he had to go to the airport. When he walked to his door, ready to leave, he wasn't expecting a knock at the door, nor was he expecting it to be you.

"Hey Y/n," he smiled. "How are you?"

"I'm good thank, you?" you were out of breath. Had you ran here?

"I'm great, thanks. Are you alright?"

You came in and closed the door behind you. "What are you playing at?"

"Excuse me?"

"The interviews, the pictures, everything. What are you doing?" you questioned.

"Isn't it obvious?" he chuckled. "I like you, like, like like you. I thought I made that clear?"

You grimaced and his heart sank.

"It's fine if you don't-"

"Oscar, no, just... it's kind of awful timing and we can't be together, right? That would never work, we hate each other, right?" you rationalised, willing him to agree with you.

As much as he wanted to scream and rip his hair out, he nodded, a flat smile on his face. "Exactly, that's why I was just joking."

You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God!" you chuckled. "Well, congratulations on the win and I'll see you in Qatar, thanks Osc."

"Bye," he smiled half-heartedly, then flung himself back on his bed when you left. You didn't like him back. And what did you mean by 'bad timing'? He spent his entire flight, awake and wondering about what you meant, and thinking over every interaction, wondering if he'd really just made it all up in his head.

But the way you looked at him, it couldn't just be platonic, right?

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yourusername

liked by pierregasly, charlesleclerc, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 2,928,733 others

yourusername: @.f1, you've been my home for many years and I love you, thank you for starting my career, but also for being my favourite series of motorsports since I was a little girl. But now @.skysports is branching out and I'm moving across the pond at the end of this season to cover @.Indycar and @.nascar ! I'll miss everyone so much, but I am so so so excited to see that the future will bring! 6 races left! (also sad to be missing the historic season that 2025 will be, but oh well!)

comments

user83: oh I'll kms.

pierregasly: we'll miss you xxx liked by: valterribottas, zhouguanyu, landonorris, danielriccardo, charlesleclerc, carlossainz, alexalbon, francocolapinto, liamlawson, yukistunoda, estebanocon, fernandoalonso, jensonbutton, aussiegrit, kevinmagnussen, nicohulkenburg, lewishamilton, georgerussell, kimiantonelli, olliebearman, isakhadjar, paularon, arthruleclerc, lancestroll, checoperez, maxverstappen, alexandrastmleux, kikagomez, lilymhe, rebeccadonaldson.

skysportsf1: We'll miss you most! xxx

tedkravitz: It's been a privilege and an honour to work with you. You truly are the funniest person I've ever met. Your segment on Ted's notebook will be thoroughly missed. You will be thoroughly missed.

charlesleclerc: Bonne chance mon amour! ❤️

yukistunoda: who will organise interviews with me and pierre now? 😿 -> yourusername: I'll ask ted :(

danielriccardo: legend of the sport :) -> yourusername: looking in a mirror are we?

mercedesfmg: we'll miss you y/n! 🩵

mclaren: missing you already! 🧡

user72: guys... has anyone told oscar? -> user21: he must be so upset :( -> user92: yeah his best friend and his crush leaving F1 in the same year.

stakef1: missing you 💚 -> yourusername: manifesting hulkenburg podium next year

lewishamilton: I'll miss you, but you definitely have to come back for some hot laps... maybe Austin next year? -> yourusername: I'm there :)

maxverstappen: sad to see you go, but i can't wait for all the stories :)

landonorris: FUCK I'M CRYING WHAT I'M GOING TO MISS YOU TOO MUCH PLEASE DON'T GO -> yourusername: IT'LL BE FINE LANDO YOU'RE A BIG BOY

patooward: YAY WE GET Y/N!

haasf1team: our favourite interviewer ever ❤️

alpine: missing you loads 🩷

jackdoohan: NO I'M FINE THAT MY BEST FRIEND IS MISSING MY ROOKIE SEASON -> yourusername: I'LL BE IN MELBOURNE AND AT THE LAST FEW RACES!!! -> jackdoohan: ...forgiven.

liamlawson: NO DON'T LEAVE ME HERE ALONE -> yourusername: JACK WILL BE THERE NEXT YEAR CALM DOWN

kimiantonelli: miss you xxx

olliebearman: will be in need of your smoothie recipe since you won't be here to make it :( -> yourusername: I'll send it to you :)

user829: someone check on oscar rn...?? -> user36: fr he's probably sobbing his celeb crush is leaving the paddock for good ->user292: BRO IS IN THE LIKES !!!!!!

redbullracing: we'll be staying tuned to watch shine -> user88: wow a better send-off than daniel got lmao

logansargeant: CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAIN 😁😁😁😁 -> yourusername: ME NEITHER

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He stared at his phone in shock.

What. The. Fuck.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

part one | part two | part three | part four

[kindaasrikal]

Jay becoming evil and Zane suddenly being treated as equipment and acting less like Zane almost seems like it links.

Because none of us should forget that the first person who humanised, was non-judgmental, understanding and quickly accepting to Zane’s non-human insides was Jay.

Before the big reveal, in the early seasons Zane was still considered strange and weird. His personality and the way he behaved was strange to others and the ninja, and despite Jay still thinking that, he was one of the first people to not judge Zane based off of such a thing and was even willing to help him understand how to socialise more. I mean yeah sure he was still a butt towards Zane at times but he never actually hated or judged Zane for who he was.

When Zane’s reveal as a nindroid was shown to them Jay quickly jumps in with how despite the fact that Zane isn’t human, that doesn’t mean he isn’t still Zane. Nothing changed when they found out Zane was a nindroid because he was always a nindroid, they just know that now. Jay even starts making jokes about it five seconds later, this man has horrible timing.

Jay himself seems like before the ninja he was always overly self conscious about how his life was like and how his quirks made him behave, so i think when he first met Zane he wasn’t just going to judge and push him away but instead help him and accept him.

Now, with Jay being evil and having worked under the same group that is calling Zane equipment and unable to actually feel, is there anyone out there who will actively encourage and support Zane through who he is? Pixal my love come back and fix your man’s horrible mental health. Maybe smack him with the broom your face is on.

[loulovingho]

tags: violence (gay bashing), homophobic slurs, blood, hurt/comfort, angst, healing, heading toward getting back together, happy-enough ending

(ao3 link or read below)

Like Fine China

“Hey, I need you to keep your eyes open for me, okay? You hear me? Try to keep your eyes open.”

He recognized that voice. The last time he'd heard it was just a few weeks ago, at the hospital. Who was it for though? Why was he at the hospital that time?

His brain felt like a jumbled mess. His body felt even worse.

He just wanted to sleep.

“Tommy! Tommy, can you hear me?”

Athena! That's who was speaking to him.

He opened his mouth, cracked one eye open. God, it hurt!

“I- I'm,” the words felt foreign as they escaped him. His voice didn't sound like his own. His mouth was dry, and held a bad taste.

Whiskey and... and metal.

Blood.

“Tommy, paramedics are on their way, okay? I just need you to stay with me until they get here.”

It was dark, but something was shining bright in his face.

“Flash... Flashlight,” he managed to get out, squeezing his eye back shut.

“Eyes- Eye open, Tommy. I'll get the flashlight out of your face, but I need to know you're with me.”

Wait. Had she said paramedics? They couldn't. He couldn't let them- let him see.

“No, no, no,” he mumbled out, shaking his head a couple times until a sharp pain shot through it. “No, h- he can't. I don't-”

“They're not on shift, Tommy.”

He tried to push himself up, away from where she hovered over him. He didn't manage to get very far before she placed a hand on his chest.

“Tommy, you cannot get up. I need you to stay still, and stay conscious. Those two things are your only jobs. You hear me?”

“I can't,” his words were so garbled. He coughed up the blood that'd been dripping down his throat.

I can't let him see.”

“Listen to me, Tommy!” Athena exclaimed, getting right in Tommy's face. He could barely see her, but he could feel her breath on his face. “They're not coming. Buck isn't coming; it'll be someone else.”

In the distance, he heard the sound of sirens. He didn't feel relief. Didn't feel much of anything at all. He was fading, fast. It took all his energy to force out one last sentence before he lost consciousness. “Don't... Don't tell him.”

*****

He just wanted to go out for a drink. Something a little stronger than craft beer.

It'd been two weeks since he broke up with Evan- no, Buck. He was Buck now.

It'd been two weeks since he broke up with Buck and the ache in his chest felt the same way it did the second he walked out of the loft.

He'd thought he was saving himself from future heartbreak, and maybe he was, but it didn't quite make it hurt any less.

Georgie's wasn't exactly a gay bar, but Georgie was gay and the bar itself became a sort of unofficial hang out for older people in the lgbtq+ community. No loud music and everyone left each other alone. A perfect place to decompress while still allowing yourself to be free.

After a couple of whiskey sours, and yeah, a pitcher of craft beer, Tommy was ready to go.

He waited outside, near the alleyway, for his Uber. He found himself going to his messages, hovering over Evan's name. He hadn't had the heart to change it to Buck yet.

He'd been wanting to text him since the breakup. Talk about it some more. Actually give a reason for why it- why he- fell apart so fast. How Buck's words triggered some terrible memories for him. How he suddenly realized there was no way he could be everything he thought Buck needed. Everything Buck deserved. Not to mention they hadn't even exchanged I love you's. And it was insane to think all of Tommy's things could fit in Buck's loft. Buck's things could fit in his house so much easier!

He clicked on Evan's name, started to type something out, erased it, started again, erased it again.

He was usually so aware of his surroundings. His time in the military did that to him. It did a lot of things to him actually, many of which he wasn't very thankful for. However, he prided himself on not being oblivious.

Tonight he was oblivious.

He didn't expect five men to jump him at once. He was a strong guy. Had taken on three men about fifteen years earlier. Did it with ease too.

But not five men. Not when one had a bat, and one had brass knuckles, and one was at least 6'5 and three hundred pounds. Not when they dragged him to the ground and into the alley before he had a chance to react. Screaming slurs at him as they took turns using his body as a punching bag.

He tried to fight. At one point, he was sure he kicked one of the guy's in the face. Heard him yell something like, “The fag broke my tooth!”

It only made things worse.

He wasn't sure when he first lost consciousness, but he knew they were still on top of him. Still laughing as they hit and kicked. He heard the sounds of someone spitting at some point. Felt wet on his face.

Then there was nothing.

Until someone stepped out from somewhere, and maybe they heard him groan? Maybe it was his Uber driver wondering where he was? Maybe it was an employee taking out the trash? He wasn't sure. He could barely hear someone telling him they were calling the police. There was a ringing in his ears, and his lungs felt like they were on fire. Someone said something about wheezing, barely breathing. He wondered what that was about.

Then there was Athena. Then nothing again.

*****

The next time Tommy opened his eyes, he was in a dimly lit hospital room. He was confused. Could barely see out of one eye and everything was blurry out of the other.

His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and maybe some tiny humans hitting his brain with hammers.

“Are you... awake awake or not really awake?”

The sound of a man's voice startled him. He couldn't hardly move, but he was able to focus his eyes across the room at the figure in the corner.

“Ed- Eddie?”

God, his voice sounded weird. Why did it sound like that? Like he'd spent the last 30 years smoking a pack a day.

“Yeah, I'm here.”

He sounded hesitant. Maybe they'd had this conversation before? If they had, Tommy certainly didn't remember it.

“Wha- Why?”

Eddie stepped closer. “You're in the hospital, Man.”

Tommy wanted to roll his eyes. No duh.

He settled for clearing his throat, which turned into a burning sensation running down his chest. “Why're you... here?” he tried. Hoped Eddie understood that much.

“Tommy-”

“I t- told Athena-” he had to pause to take a breath. “Told her not to tell.”

“Actually, you told Athena not to tell him. And she assumed, correctly, I'm sure, that him was Buck. So she called me instead.”

Tommy closed his eyes. “Why?”

“Why'd she call me? Oh, maybe because you don't have anyone listed as an emergency contact and you were nearly beat to death so she figured you might need someone to be here when you woke up.”

Tommy's jaw clenched at Eddie's harsh words.

Nearly beat to death.

He was nearly beat to death.

Eddie either noticed Tommy's heart rate going up on the monitor, or his eyes filling with tears, because he was right beside his bed in two strides. “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry, I- I'm kinda pissed, Man.”

“S'okay,” Tommy replied, swallowing hard. “I deserve it.”

Eddie looked taken aback. “No, I'm not- Tommy, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at this,” he said, gesturing over Tommy's body. “I've never seen...” Eddie's voice trailed off and, through Tommy's own blurry vision, he could see that Eddie was close to crying.

“What'd they do to me?” Tommy asked, barely able to take in all his injuries. His entire body hurt, no part any worse or less than the other. He could feel something on every limb, but he couldn't quite move his head around enough to see what it was.

Eddie took a deep breath. He wiped at his eyes with his fingers, sniffling before getting started. “You've got bruising on about seventy-five percent of your body. You had surgery for a busted kneecap on your right knee. Your left arm has a fracture, and your right one has thirty stitches, I think. They broke a few ribs, so it's gonna hurt like hell when you take a deep breath or cough. Um, you had some internal bleeding, but they got that under control pretty fast. You've got a fracture in your cheek, which may cause some extra pain when you talk. You've got a few broken fingers too, and lost a couple fingernails during your- when you were defending yourself.”

“Hm,” Tommy hummed once Eddie was done. “S'that all?”

Eddie shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I'm sure I missed a couple things, actually, jackass.”

Tommy let out a laugh, which quickly turned into a groan. “Thanks for coming, Eddie,” he said, trying and failing at moving himself into a slightly more comfortable position. “You don't have to stay though. I'll be fine.”

Eddie stared at him incredulously. “You're kidding me.”

Tommy shifted his eyes back in Eddie's direction. “No, I- I'll be okay. I've got it. Just,” he paused to take a breath, “don't let Buck know, please.”

Eddie raised a finger toward Tommy. “Well, see, about that. You only told Athena not to tell him before, and-”

“You didn't.”

“-and see he was already at my place when I got the call, so-”

“Please tell me you didn't.”

“I have one with cream and one with sugar and- Oh my God, you're awake!” The sound of Buck's voice had Tommy's head twisting toward the door so quickly that a pain shot from the bottom of his back all the way to the top of his head. “Ow!” he yelped, clenching his teeth and tossing his head against the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Oh my God. Has the nurse come in yet? Have they checked his vitals? Eddie, you said he'd be out for a while! Tommy, do you feel any nausea? Do you remember who we are? The nurses said you might have-”

“Buck!” Eddie exclaimed. “Stop. He's okay.” He glanced over at Tommy, “I did forget to mention the head trauma.”

Tommy groaned, giving him a glare.

Eddie walked over to Buck and took the drink carrier from his hands. “I'll go find a nurse, you stay with him.”

Tommy wanted to yell out to Eddie to please not go, and also screw you, and maybe throw a couple hand gestures in there too. He stayed silent instead.

Buck looked Tommy up and down, hesitating slightly before walking up to the side of the bed. “So, you're-”

“I want to see myself,” Tommy blurted.

“Oh, um, I... Tommy, I don't. It might be better to wait.”

Tommy managed to move his head enough to look up at Buck. He could see the fear- no, the panic- in Buck's eyes.

“I wanna see," he repeated.

“Tommy-”

“Buck!” It took a lot of strength to get his name out so forcefully, and he didn't quite mean it to sound as angry as it did, but this wasn't Buck's decision. It was his. And he wanted to see what he looked like.

Buck pulled his phone from his back pocket, his hands shaking slightly as he pulled up the camera.

Slowly, he lifted the phone up to Tommy's face.

The second it registered that he was looking at himself, Tommy sucked in a breath. He grimaced as pain radiated through his chest but, when Buck went to move the camera away he stopped him. “No,” he said. “Just. Just wait.”

He knew his eyes were swollen by how out of focus his vision was, but he had no idea just how bad they looked. The right was worse than the left, but both were an angry mixture of black, purple, and green. The bruise on the left side of his face ran down his cheek to his jaw, circling underneath his chin like a half moon and fading into his facial hair. There were marks on his neck. Looked like someone's hand. He could understand Eddie's hesitancy on mentioning that. He didn't remember anyone gripping him there, which was probably for the best.

His forehead had more bruises, and cuts too. There was dried blood at his hairline, some stitched up cuts. His curly hair was nearly matted to his head, his scalp a brutal crimson.

“I tried to wash the blood out of your hair with a washcloth,” Buck explained anxiously, “but you have some lacerations on your scalp and I didn't want to bother them until they healed a little more.”

It was all so overwhelming. There was a whirring sound in his ears that made him feel dizzy. His eyes burned as they filled with tears that he didn't have the strength to wipe away.

“Okay,” he said, his voice uneven. He cleared his throat. “Can you- You can go, please. I don't... You can go.”

“Tommy-”

“Ev- Buck, I'm awake, I'm fine, I don't need anyone here.” He stared straight ahead, unable to look Buck in the eyes. “Please.”

“No.”

Tommy really didn't feel like dealing with stubborn Evan right now. “I don't-”

“I don't really care, Tommy. I'm not leaving you here. I've been at this damn hospital for three days now and I'm staying until you go home. I don't care what-”

He was cut off by the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Got the nurse,” Eddie said, an awkward smile on his face. The nurse, to her credit, ignored all the tension in the room.

“Let me get some hand sanitizer and gloves and I'll be right with you, Mr. Kinard.”

Buck sighed. He stepped even closer to Tommy. “I'm gonna go into the hall long enough for the nurse to check you out,” he said, maneuvering himself until he was halfway leaning over the bed, his arm on the other side of Tommy to prop himself up as he forced him to make eye contact. “I will be back in a few minutes. You have people who care about you, Tommy, whether you like it or not.”

With that said, Buck stood back up and left the room.

*****

Tommy spent a few more days in the hospital before he was released. There were only two times that Buck left long enough to get a shower and get a little rest in a real bed. Both of those times, he made sure Eddie was there the entire time.

Athena had come in to get his statement. Asked him all sorts of questions, most of which Tommy couldn't answer. He hadn't really gotten a good look at them. Only had very basic descriptions. He remembered the slurs they had hurled at him, knew they attacked because he was gay. He couldn't really figure out how they knew though. Besides being outside of that bar, it wasn't like Tommy ever did anything that screamed gay. Not that it mattered.

She'd been honest with him. There were no cameras at that part of the street, or in the alleyway. No one got a good description of the attackers, and the person who called the police only saw their shadows as they disappeared into the night. She'd do everything she could, but it wasn't likely they'd find these men. At least, not until they did this again.

Bobby stopped by once with some homemade chicken noodle soup. Buck had to feed him every bite, which made Tommy feel like he was about to cry the entire time, but he managed half a bowl before he had to stop. It was a million times better than anything the hospital had been feeding him, and he was glad to know Bobby had put some in his freezer to give Tommy when he got home.

Chim and Maddie came one evening. He'd been asleep when they got there, woke up some time during their visit, but he kept his eyes shut until they left.

Honestly, every time someone walked through the doors he felt more and more like running out of the hospital and finding a hole to fall into. Then, if he were lucky, someone would just shovel some dirt over him and let him rest.

These weren't his people. They were Buck's people. They didn't need to be there for him. They needed to hate him. They needed to laugh at his bruises and tell him he deserved every last one. They needed to yell at him for breaking Buck's heart to try and save his own.

That'd be a lot easier than this.

Thankfully, Hen and Karen didn't come by. They did send flowers though, and a card that explained both kids had strep throat and they didn't want to risk bringing that to the hospital. They'd come by Tommy's place once he was home.

He and Buck didn't talk about anything that needed to be talked about. All the unsent messages that had swirled through Tommy's mind didn't matter right now. It was like an unspoken rule between the two of them. Right now was not the time to try and fix whatever happened between them. Right now was about Tommy healing.

*****

As soon as they got Tommy home, Buck left Eddie with him so he could go to the pharmacy and pick up his medications. When he got back, Eddie headed out to go home and rest, promising to come back later with a variety of foods that would be easy on Tommy to eat.

The silence felt more... silent at Tommy's house. It was different now that they were at home instead of a hospital with people coming in and out at all times.

Tommy needed to do something, say something, to break the silence.

“I wasn't on a date,” he muttered out as Buck organized his pain meds on his nightstand.

Buck paused briefly before getting right back to it. “Didn't think you were.”

Tommy nodded. “Okay. I just, I don't know, didn't want you to think that.”

“You go to Georgie's when your brain is working overtime and you need it to quiet down.”

Tommy's eyebrows furrowed. “I didn't know I ever told you that.”

“You didn't,” Buck replied, handing Tommy his pills and a glass of water. “I just know you.”

Tommy swallowed the pills, wincing slightly. His throat still felt scratchy even a week later. “I don't know how they knew,” he said as Buck took the water from him and set it on his nightstand.

“Who knew what?”

“Those guys that-” he stopped. “I don't know how they knew I was gay.”

“A lot of queer people hang out at Georgie's,” Buck answered. “They probably took a guess.”

The thought of it made Tommy's stomach lurch. “I've spent most of my life trying to make sure people couldn't guess.”

Buck watched him for a moment quizzically. “Tommy, you're not... You don't blame yourself for this, do you? You know this wasn't your fault, right?”

Tommy avoided eye contact with Buck. He felt so small right now. “I know I didn't do anything to provoke them.”

“That doesn't really answer my question.”

“I just... I don't know what I could have done differently. I know I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. I... I should probably go to a different bar, maybe. I don't know.”

“You can't be serious right now.”

“This is everything I feared my entire life, Buck,” Tommy admitted and, God, he wished he could shut up right now. The pain pills were starting to make him a little loose lipped, mixed with him truly being alone with Buck for the first time since they broke up, mixed with an undeniable fear every time he thought about that night, seemed to make it impossible to close his mouth. “I did everything to make sure nothing like this would ever happen to me and it still did. I keep thinking about it and wondering how it could have been different. How I could have been different.”

“Tommy, can you look at me?”

Slowly, Tommy looked up at Buck, his eyes shining with tears.

“This was not your fault. There's nothing you could or should have done differently. You cannot let those five men shove you back into a closet.”

“I-” Tommy cleared his throat. “They're not. It's just... a lot right now.”

“I get that, I- I do. You look tired. Why don't you rest for a bit, okay? I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Buck, you don't-”

“If you tell me I don't need to stay I will force feed you bone broth when you wake up.”

Tommy shivered. “Ugh! I hate bone broth.”

“I know you do.” Buck gently pulled a pillow out from under Tommy, allowing him to lie back easier. “Close your eyes, get some rest. I'm here when you need me.”

*****

They were bound to fight sometime. Tommy had honestly expected it to happen sooner. Buck had been staying with him for three weeks now, only gone when he was working a shift. Bobby had let him work part time for now, with Carla caring for him when Buck was gone.

They'd managed to get past the initial awkwardness. Buck rambled about any and every subject he could think of. They'd watch movies together on the couch, with Tommy falling asleep halfway through due to his pain meds.

Buck would get Tommy tucked in bed, then set himself up on Tommy's floor in case he was needed during the night. Tommy had tried to insist he use the spare room, but Buck wouldn't hear of it. He knew Tommy wouldn't call for him if he needed him through the night.

Then Tommy tried to suggest he sleep in the bed. But that was a no go because, “I kick, Tommy, you know this. Do you really want another knee surgery?”

They'd been focused on Tommy getting better. And they'd been ignoring the many, many elephants in the room.

So, a fight was expected.

What wasn't expected was for the fight to start because Tommy needed to pee.

Buck had seemed a bit more on edge today, but Tommy chalked that up to a shift that ran longer than expected.

Tommy had grabbed his crutches, which he'd just been able to start using to go short distances. He still didn't quite trust himself to use them at night, but he was working toward relying on them more and relying on people less.

When he stood, Buck immediately stood with him.

“I'm fine, Buck. I just need to go to the bathroom.”

“I'll help you there.”

“I'm really fine. I can get there by myself.”

Tommy was sure he had kept his tone neutral. He definitely didn't want an argument tonight. But, before he could even make it two steps, he heard Buck scoff. “Not surprised.”

And maybe it was the full bladder making him extra bitchy, but Tommy couldn't help turning around and asking, “What's that mean?”

Buck shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nothing.”

“Obviously it's not nothing. If it were nothing you wouldn't have said anything in the first place. What doesn't surprise you?”

“Just you, ya know, pushing people away. It's what you do.”

“Ha!” Tommy laughed out. “If I'm pushing people away then I really suck at it because you haven't left my house in three weeks. I just need to pee.”

“I'm not talking about right now. I'm talking about me telling you that I loved you and you breaking up with me.”

How in the hell did they end up here?

“You didn't tell me you loved me, Evan!” Tommy exclaimed, unbelievably confused. The sudden change in tone caused Buck to take a step back.

He was only thrown off for a second, quick with a retort. “Of course I did!”

“No, you absolutely did not! You asked me to move in with you, but you did not tell me you loved me.”

“Wait. You asked him to move in with you?” Eddie's voice had them glaring in his direction. Both had forgotten he was even there in the first place. He raised his hands. “Sorry.”

“Well, I- it was obviously implied,” Buck argued. “I wouldn't have asked you to move in if I didn't love you.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know that?! You were making it sound like I was some gay hero that sewed the first pride flag! I don't even go to pride events, Evan! All the colors are far too bright and the glitter never leaves you.”

“Glitter is really annoying,” Eddie agreed.

Tommy pointed a crutch at him. “Thank you.”

“I was not trying to make you out to be some gay hero, Tommy! I was telling you that I was comfortable with you. I was telling you I wanted to spend all my time with you. I wanted us to be together!”

“You didn't even think it through, Evan!” Tommy motioned around the room. “I own a home. It comes with two bedrooms that have doors, a garage, a back yard, and two and a half bathrooms. You asked me to move into your loft.”

Eddie shook his head. “Oh, Buck.”

Buck's eyes shot over to him. “You're still here why?”

Eddie stood from his spot on the couch, grabbing his coat. “Yeah, I'm going. Later.”

They both stayed silent until they heard the door open and close.

Buck opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “This is our first fight, isn't it?”

Tommy nodded. “It is.”

“Took us long enough.”

Tommy managed a small smile. “Probably should have fought you that night, honestly.”

“I think I would have felt better if you did.”

“Me too.” Tommy took a deep breath. “I actually really do have to pee,” he said, shifting from one crutch to the other. “Can we pause this until I'm done?”

Buck nodded. “I'll be here.”

They didn't actually fight anymore after that. It was time for Tommy to take his meds, which made him tired, and Buck was tired himself from his shift. Tommy laid in bed, Buck snoring on the floor beside him, thinking it all over. All the things he still felt like he needed to say. The unfinished business they had between them.

The fight wasn't much, but it was something.

It was enough.

For now.

*****

“Are you sure you're good on your own?” Buck asked as Tommy limped behind him toward the door.

“I'm sure. I can successfully do everything on my own now with minimal to no pain.”

Buck turned back to him quickly, eyes wide. “But there's still pain?”

Tommy smiled. “I'm fine, Evan.”

Buck didn't look so sure. “Okay, I... Okay.” Instinctively, he moved forward to wrap Tommy in a hug. He stopped himself before he got too close, but Tommy responded by opening his arms.

Buck's posture relaxed as he gently wrapped his arms around Tommy, careful not to squeeze too tightly. "I was so worried about you," he whispered in the space between them.

"I know."

“You'll call the number I gave you?” he asked.

“I already did yesterday,” Tommy admitted. “When you went out to pick up dinner. My first session is next Monday.”

“Good. That's... That's good.”

“Thank you, Evan. For everything you've done for me. You didn't have to do that.”

Reluctantly, Buck pulled himself away from Tommy.

“Did you realize you've been calling me Evan since our fight a couple weeks ago?” he asked, lips upturning into a smile.

“Oh, um,” Tommy shifted on his feet, taking the pressure off his bad knee. “Sorry. Habit.”

“Don't be sorry. I hate when you call me Buck.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I'll always- I wanna be Evan, to you.”

Tommy nodded, staring into Evan's eyes. “Okay. That's. I'd like that too.”

Buck continued toward the door, stopping again as soon as his hand touched the handle. He looked back. “Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time you think about texting me... hit send, okay?”

Tommy had never mentioned that before. But he'd caught Buck's near-texts to him too, so it didn't quite catch him off guard. “I'm kinda a mess, Evan. I'm not as comfortable as you think I am. I'm not... I'm still figuring things out.”

“That's okay. I am too. Text me anyway.”

“Even if I'm asking you out for a coffee? So we can talk? Really talk?”

“Date and time, I'll be there.” Buck smiled softly at him as he opened the door to leave. “I'll get your order right this time.”

[sagethesmol1]

the fast clips in tommy’s new video :)

i can’t watch back my old videos because everyone in them wasn’t who they said they were. do you know how sad this makes me feel. do you know how sad i have been all year.

When I was a boy, alone, this means everything to me. I found my people. My place. And along the way I was part of something that really meant something. This is the only good bit of this. Whatever I did that meant something, that’s the good bit.

Status is irrational and nature is cyclical. it’s attention porn. Don’t get addicted to it. It’s nothing. It means nothing. They are more insecure than you. But what the fuck [can’t read the last bit]

How could anyone possibly find out who they are when you are all immersed in the needless, self indulgent spiral of instant gratification. This is not good for you.

I don’t think I trust anyone here. I don’t think anyone trusts anyone here. the poor 12 year old watching this sad ass video when he subscribes for funny minecraft video. poor guy lmao

yeah i know it’s too much like bo burnham. It won’t be in a year though. In a year it will be like Tom Simons. Just let me figure out what that means, OK?

I used to feel like I was doin everything wrong. That i just wasn’t as smart or good like any of my friends. I realized I was the only one doing the right thing. I just would to have fun. What i’d do to get that back, my god. What id do to for things to be simple again.

I just don’t want to slip back into who I was. A year ago, I needed you. A year ago, all my self-esteem and worth and love came from you. A year ago i wasn’t happy unless you were. I don’t think I can ever do that again. That was really wrong. How did I possibly end up there.

If you find a corner of this world wide web with any substance at all, please stick to it. The hundreds of millions of people that now place absolutely no value on their time, their precious time, and spend it watching soulless content designed to hold their attention is depressing. This all depressed me. There is so little substance in this mess of a world wide web, so little art or soul or love. If you find any substance, stick to it.

A tribute to Minecraft. The Great Potato War. TheOriginalAce’s Q&A’s. Ludwig’s 2020 Streams. SMPLive Talent Show. This was everything to me.

oh my god please help him

The fast clips in Tommy's new music video

[bangtan-junkie]

Dissonance (Part 1) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)

Genre/Tags: coworker!JK, enemies to lovers, smutttttt, slow burn (ish?), ANGST

Word Count: 5744 words

Synopsis:

Your coworker, Jungkook, got on your nerves. While everyone saw him as sweet and charming, you saw his true (annoying) colours that lay beneath. It was no secret that you hated him. No one knew that more than him. But a night out, drinks in your system, and a girl flirting with Jungkook in front of you might bring up some uglier feelings and be Jungkook's last straw.

Note:

lol sorry I'm not great with synopses. but yeah this is rly just angst and filth enjoyyy. part 2 soon hopefully. also would love requests or feedback so lmk

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as Jungkook spoke. Jungkook was a newer employee and the whole office knew you didn't like him one bit. He was a kiss-ass and there was nothing you hated more than a kiss-ass. Not only was he a kiss-ass, he was also annoyingly good looking which only made people like him more. While you were busy busting your ass for work and cleaning up after other peoples' mess, he was able to get anyone to do whatever he wanted with a flash of his smile. To top it all off, nearly every woman in your office threw themselves at him - even the senior ladies. You couldn't stand it. Watching them twirling their hair, putting a hand on his chest as they laughed at his every word, it made you sick. What was worse was watching him flirt back - seeing him check them out, grab them by the waist, or whisper in their ears. Everything about him made your blood boil and you refused to give him an easy time like everyone else.

Jungkook was fully aware of your disdain for him. He didn’t miss how your eyes rolled when he walked into the room, or how you avoided him like he was the plague. He paid no attention to it at first, trying his best to charm you as he did with your peers. But every smile, joke, or conversation was shut down. He thought it wouldn’t bother him, but with each passing day, every scowl, every eye roll, and every glare, he felt his irritation growing. But he refused to give you the satisfaction of knowing that he cared about your opinion. Instead, he tried his best to show you that you had no affect on him at all. With every insult you threw at him, he turned it around and threw a cheeky, flirty comment back at you. He only did it because he knew it would piss you off even more. As amusing as it was, his frustration was building up as you pushed his buttons.

Unfortunately for the both of you, you shared a social circle at work because you were in the same department. As if you didn't get enough of each other at work, you were occasionally forced into seeing each other outside of work when your coworkers decided to go out. Tonight was one of those cursed nights as your group agreed to go out for drinks after work. So you sat at the end of the booth, downing your drinks faster than you probably should, watching one of the girls attempt to seduce Jungkook in the booth. You tried to focus on the conversation happening on the other side of you but found your mind wandering back to the two of them. She was practically in his lap by this point and had unbuttoned a few buttons of her top. Jungkook's arm was snaked around her waist while his other hand lingered along the hem of her skirt. You downed your next drink, trying to drown the burning sensation you felt in your chest. It was certainly drowning your common sense in the process, your head already beginning to feel fuzzy. The girl was asking stupid questions and resorting to plain flattery in an attempt to flirt. Your already bad mood from work combined with the drinks you were powering through was quickly worsening your mood and making you more bold.

"You're so sweet," she giggled, "No wonder everyone likes you over in your department."

"Not everyone," you mumbled under your breath with a roll of your eyes. Jungkook rolled his own eyes and ignored you but the girl looked over at you confused.

"Sorry?" She asked.

"Don't be. I was just agreeing with you. Jungkook is soooooooo sweet," you mocked, looking directly at him. She gave you a strange look and turned back to him.

"Looks like you're famous with all the ladies," she smiled, playing with his tie.

"Oh you have no idea," you laughed to yourself. Jungkook closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself down and avoid reacting. "His reputation exceeds him," you giggle. This time she gave you a dirty look and ignored you.

"Too bad you're not in our department. You'd be a sight for sore eyes," she raked her eyes over him and winked.

"That's about all he's useful for, you should take him really," you grumbled. That was Jungkook's last straw. He finally turned to you, acknowledging your existence.

"Are you serious right now?" He glared. Your stomach flipped as you finally got a good look at him - tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, and fury swimming in his eyes. Yeah, the alcohol is definitely getting to me - you thought to yourself. You just shrugged in response.

“Get up. Now,” Jungkook demanded, voice low. You rolled your eyes but complied and slid off your chair as Jungkook slid out of the booth. As soon as you were up, you were being dragged away with a tight grip on your wrist, . He took you to the far corner of the bar, out of sight from the booth everyone was at. You rubbed your wrist in pain when let go of you.

“What are you doing?” He asked. You noticed the tick in his jaw as he clenched it. It made his jawline look even sharper. Dragging your gaze away from his jaw back to his eyes, you gave him a questioning look. “Don’t play fucking dumb right now,” he belittled. Your stomach dropped at the insult.

“I know you’re celibate, but I’m trying to take this girl home and fuck her brains out,” he sneered.

You gulped. Something about this Jungkook was doing something to you. He never got angry with you. He always had a witty remark for every insult you threw his way. Seeing him like this was different; it was more real than his cocky facade. His brows were furrowed and he was glaring at you like he wanted to grab you by the neck. Fuck he looks so hot. Normally you would never let yourself think that, but the alcohol swirling in you was clouding your judgment. Fortunately, you were still sober enough to hide your lustful gaze.

“I’m trying to save the girl from a night of disappointment and misery,” you snickered. Your answer only seemed to anger him more. He stepped forward and you took a step back. His annoyance was written all over his face. A few more steps and he’d backed you against a wall and caged you in with a hand placed next to your face. You had never been so close to Jungkook before. Was he always this handsome? You could only stare up at him and hope he didn’t notice how turned on you were.

“We both know you don’t believe that,” he said, leaning down, his face way too close to yours. “You think I’m such a man whore right? Surely you don’t think I have these women coming back just for my pretty face?” He mocked you. You felt your face flush. “Then what is it? Why are you cockblocking me?”

You weren’t completely sure why you were acting the way you were. Watching that girl press up so close to him, whisper in his ear, laugh at his every work - it made you sick. Yet you couldn’t look away, you watched as he flirted so shamelessly and your stomach swirled with disgust.

“She’s fucking stupid. She fell for you. Really I’m doing her a favour.”

“Why do you care Y/n? Just because you don’t want me, doesn’t mean other people don’t.”

“Because they look so dumb fawning over you,” your gaze was hazy, “all they see is how ha-,” your eyes trailed down to his pretty lips, having the little sense to cut yourself off before saying what you were going to say. “They’re always the same; flipping their hair, laughing at your dumb jokes, climbing into your lap. And you eat it up every time.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed for a moment before he scoffed.

“What, are you jealous sweetheart?” He joked dryly. “Wish it was you instead?” He asked, trying to annoy you and fully expecting you to get angry. Turns out, it worked. Something fiery and ugly crawled through your veins as the words left his mouth, making you feel hot. You couldn’t face what the feeling was - just knowing Jungkook was making you feel something so dark was enough to stop your train of thought. You refused to become one of those girls...you couldn't.

“You know what? Never mind, you guys are perfect for each other,” you mumbled while quickly slipping under his arms. The possibility of you being jealous was sobering. It cleared your mind enough to know you should get back to the table. Enough to see how dangerously close to disaster you were. But just as you made it a foot past him, he pulled you back, pressing your back against the wall. His gaze was different now - dark and piercing. It held you captive, like a deer caught in headlights. You couldn’t look away and neither could you pull out of the tight grip he had on your arm.

“What, that’s it? Not even gonna give me shit for that?” He questioned. The words were meant to be teasing but instead they sounded angry, nearly spiteful. His mind was racing as he put the whole picture together but refused to believe it. Embarrassment replaced the ugly feeling clawing up your throat, making your body burn up. His gaze became too intense and you had to look away. But he was not going to make this easy for you. He grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him as he patiently waited for you to say something, to deny what he was thinking. This was a whole new side of him that you were seeing for the first time. What was worse was that some part of you liked it. Your embarrassment reached a new height as the tension grew thicker between you. You wanted to scream, to run, to get as far away from Jungkook as you could - anything but admit this new found truth. Tears threatened to wallow in your eyes as the unease began eating you alive. But you forced them back, refusing to embarrass yourself any further. After several moments of silence from you, Jungkook let go of your jaw and scoffed in disbelief.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he uttered, bewildered, before hanging his head. The short moment gave you reprieve, a second to breathe again now that he wasn’t looking into your soul. Your mouth opened to say something, anything to redeem yourself, but shut when you couldn’t think of anything. Then Jungkook was chuckling, which turned into a laugh that made his shoulders shake. It wasn’t a joyous laughter. No, it was mocking, cruel.

“This whole time,” he started, his laughter dying down as he looked at you again, “I thought there was an actual reason you hated me.” He straightened his back, now towering above you, and moved closer. He was looking at you like he was going to eat you alive. You quickly avoided his gaze, choosing to stare straight ahead at his chest instead. One of his hands came up to tangle in your hair before he yanked it, forcing you to look at him again. You couldn’t help the moan that left your lips as he pulled your hair. It only fueled that hunger in his eyes.

“All this time, you just needed to be stuffed full of cock huh? Needed me to fuck the attitude out of you?”

The words immediately sent a rush of arousal to your core, leaving you breathless. If it wasn't for the little bit of pride left in you, you would've jumped him. Jungkook watched as your eyes filled with lust and anger as you steeled your resolve. He quickly glanced around to see if any of your coworkers were nearby before grabbing your wrist and dragging you into the washroom. All you heard was the door locking before you were pinned to the wall.

“Come on Y/n, I wanna hear you say it. Tell me you're jealous. Tell me you want to be in my bed instead of her,” he growled, getting more bold by the second. You gulped, struggling to contain your reactions.

"Shut up," you spat out, finally finding your voice. "Go fuck her for all I care." You gave him the best glare you could muster up. Jungkook's eyes lit up with the challenge you presented, but the dark glint in them made you nervous. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand.

"If you're gonna lie, at least do it well," he taunted, his breath hitting your lips.

"I don't care what you do Jungkook. Just let me go" you whined, straining your wrists in his grip. He only tightened his hold on you, hiking your wrists further up the wall and forcing you on your tippy toes. His sheer strength was slightly jarring as you were left helpless in his grip.

"Yeah?," he scoffed, "then maybe I should go back out there and pick up where I left off." You felt your stomach drop at his suggestion. Some part of you deep down wanted more. But an even bigger part of you couldn't stand the thought of enduring more of him flirting with that girl.

"She's a bold one, you know? She kept pushing my hand up her thigh, closer to where she really wanted it," he teased, voice low.

His hand trailed along your waist, over your hips, then down your thigh. Your breath hitched at the gentle touch. His fingers brushed along the hem of your skirt, which suddenly felt too short. You couldn't seem to peel your eyes away from his tattooed fingers that threatened to slip under your skirt. Your heart pounded in your chest as thoughts of what else his hands could do flashed through your mind. Taking advantage of your silence, he continued.

"She's filthy, she would've let me touch her pussy right there at the table," he groaned. "Could've had her riding my fingers in front of everyone, trying her best to stay quiet." You shot him a glare, finding the thought repulsive - unless it was you he was touching of course. "Would you rather I leave you here and go do that?"

"Fuck you," you answered with a little too much anger and disgust. It was obvious that you cared, and you hated that. Jungkook raised a brow, a satisfied smirk dawning his lips.

"I'll take that as a no," he mused, fingertips dipping under your skirt, ghosting over the inside of your thigh. You let out a shaky breath.

"I didn't...I mean...," you stumbled over your words, trying to find an excuse. You didn't want him to have the upper hand. It hurt your ego.

"Come on, use your words Y/n. Tell me why you don't want me to go," he patronized, waiting to hear your answer. His fingers continued to trail upwards, making you fluster more. You ignored his request, hyperaware of his touch. If he moved his fingers any further up, he'd be able to feel your arousal and the thought was mortifying. He'd never let you live it down.

"Jungkook," you gasped, getting higher on your tippy toes in an attempt to get his fingers a little further away.

"Yes?" He answered, intrigued by the sudden flustered expression on your face.

"Don't...your fingers," you managed to say, squirming under him.

"What about them?" He asked, stilling their movement but dug them into the flesh of your inner thigh. You closed your eyes and muttered a prayer under your breath.

"This isn't appropriate.." you said shakily, staring at the his hand disappeared under your skirt. He scoffed at your words.

"Not appropriate?" he chuckled. "You know what else is inappropriate? The constant belittling and insults you throw my way." The amusement dissipated from his voice. "The way you humiliate me in front of everyone is inappropriate Y/n," his words pierced you. The internal battle between guilt and arousal you were feeling left your head fuzzy.

"Listen, I'm sorr-" you started, genuinely wanting to apologize, seeing how upset he was. But he cut you off, not wanting to hear your apology.

"And what's especially inappropriate is the way you're looking at me right now," he growled. A rush of arousal flowed through you as he called you out. "It's inappropriate how your eyes are begging me to touch you."

The breath was knocked out of you as he pointed out everything that you thought he hadn't noticed. "I bet if I touched you right now, you'd be fucking soaked," he said, voice low.

"Jungkook please," you said breathlessly, begging him to stop speaking as your legs threatened to give out under you.

"Please what?" he asked, forcing you to spell it out for him.

"Please...I can't.." you whimpered. The sound made him groan.

"You can't?" he questioned, "Can't take it anymore?" Your eyes threatened to tear up again. "Want me to stop? Or do you want me to touch you?"

You took a second to think about it, calming your overwhelmed nerves. Were you actually going to give in to your desires? Was it worth the never ending humiliation and mockery you'd face after? You took one look at his hungry eyes and decided - fuck it.

"Touch me," you finally said, heart racing. His eyes darkened and he wasted no time in obliging. He quickly hiked your skirt up to your hips, his fingers slipping between your clothed folds. All thoughts escaped your mind as Jungkook finally touched you where you wanted.

"Fuck, you really are soaked - for me," he growled. You had half the mind to remind him that he was also clearly enjoying himself. But your eyes fluttered shut and the words transformed into a moan as his fingers rubbed over your clit again. Pleasure coursed through your body, the tension between you two only adding to the fire between your legs. "I turn you on that much?"

You could only huff in response, too focused on the pleasure. His fingers slid down, rubbing through your wetness. Then he stopped. You groaned at the loss, opening your eyes to shoot him a glare. You were met with Jungkook's dark, lustful gaze. His eyes scanned your features hungrily, catching on your lips before stopping at your eyes. The look on your face was one he was used to. The look of anger, frustration, borderline hate. Usually he despised it, but in that moment he savoured it. This time, it was mixed with desperation - desire. It made him proud that he was able to push you to this point.

"Are you kidding me?" you asked, clearly annoyed.

"So cute how you think you'll get your way every time," he mumbled, a devilish smirk resting on his lips. "You know what one of the first things I noticed about you was? How you weren't afraid to speak your mind." It felt strange to hear Jungkook complimenting you like this, but you still felt like this was a trap. "Obviously, back then I didn't know that I'd grow to hate it," he chuckled. You rolled your eyes.

"But I want you to speak your mind now. You've always said every terrible thing you thought about me. So tell me what you're thinking about me now Y/n," he said, eyes staring into your soul like he knew every filthy thought that was running through your mind. He moved closer, his lips grazing against your ear as he whispered, "Still thinking of how much you hate me?"

"No," you answered, wanting him to get on with it.

"What are you thinking then?" Every inch of you screamed at you not to answer. But you knew there was only one way out of this. Jungkook wanted the truth, he wanted to hear you say it.

"I'm thinking about your hands, your fingers," you said softly, grateful that he had his face buried in your neck so that you didn't have to look him in the eye.

"What about 'em?" His breathing was ragged against your skin, like he couldn't wait to finally hear the words.

"Thinking about how good they look on my legs," you admitted, heart racing. Jungkook didn't answer, only taking a sharp breath in. A few more seconds of silence and you gulped, deciding to take the leap.

"Thinking about how big your hands are. And how good your fingers would feel inside of me," you said, gasping as his fingers resumed their ministrations. Jungkook pulled his head back, finally looking at you again, a dark lust painted across his features.

"Thinking about cumming on your fingers and your cock," you said, your eyes fluttering shut as pleasure worked its way through your body again. "Thinking about how much I hate that you're making me feel this way."

Jungkook cursed under his breath, making you open your eyes.

"Why?" The question was simple, but it felt heavy. His eyes bore into your; anger, lust, and focus swirling around in them.

"I don't wanna be one of those girls," you answered, voice barely above a whisper. A cold look washed over his face for a brief moment.

"How does it feel then? You're here, soaked and begging me to touch you. About to cum on my fingers. I'm the one making you feel this good," he growled, fingers picking up their pace. "Are you angry? Disgusted?"

His fingers had you hurtling towards the edge, leaving your mind hazy. You barely processed his question as the pressure built up in your core again. All you could do was moan his name as you quickly reached your climax. But then his fingers were gone, leaving you crashing. There was a moment of silence as disbelief and anger coursed through you. When you looked back at him, his expression seemed colder.

“What the fuck Jungkook?!” you nearly shouted when you finally came back to your senses. “I was so close!” you grit through your teeth.

“Oh were you?” Jungkook mocked, observing your angered reaction.

“I should’ve known. Of course you’re a selfish douchebag in bed too,” you spat. A smirk formed on his lips as he raised a brow at your words.

“It’s bewildering that those girls come back when you can’t even get them off once. I guess it is just for your pretty face,” you sneered, wanting him to him to be equally as pissed of as you. He let go of your wrists and buried a hand in your hair before yanking it back. You yelped at the harsh tug that forced your head back, exposing your neck to him.

“God you really just keep running your mouth, don’t ya?” He growled. “A few more seconds and we both know you would’ve creamed your panties.” You gulped at his words, unable to deny them.

“But only good girls get to cum,” he whispered, his hot breath on your ear sending shivers down your spine. He let go of your hair, putting a little space between you two. “You think you deserve to cum?” He asked.

“After months of being an asshole to me, never listening to anything I said, treating me like an idiot? All because you wanted my cock stuffed in your tight pussy.” The anger swirling in his eyes only turned you on more.

“Did you really think I’d give you what you wanted so easily Y/n?” he mocked. “After all that, did you think I’d let you have your way? Maybe finally fuck you how you’ve wanted? Have you screaming my name, squirting all over my cock, over and over again?” While his words added to the arousal between your legs, his tone left you humiliated. You could feel your face getting hotter.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to mutter while staring at the floor. Jungkook chuckled darkly before grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him.

“Oh baby, no. Sorry won’t cut it. If you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna have to earn it,” he growled, staring right into your eyes.

Then he let go of your jaw. He was angry with you, so angry. But watching you beg, cry his name, submit to him made his cock impossibly hard. As he fumbled with his belt and pants, you understood what he wanted. Without a second thought, you dropped to your knees before him. Jungkook cursed under his breath at the way you looked up at him. You reached forward to help him as he shakily unzipped his pants, but he merely brushed your hands away. You waited patiently, your heart racing in anticipation of finally seeing his cock. Relief spread across his face when he finally pulled his aching cock out of its confines. You licked your lips at the sight. Jungkook’s hand squeezed at the base as he slapped your cheek with his cock.

“Open,” he demanded. You obeyed, opening your mouth and letting your tongue out. Jungkook slapped his heavy cock on your tongue, groaning as you looked up at him. His cock twitched against your tongue as he admired the lewd image in front of him. You swirled your tongue around the tip before closing your lips around it. Jungkook grunted, still looking at you with dark eyes. But he refused to move, leaving you to do all the work for now. So, you slowly sunk your mouth down on his cock, brushing his hands away from the base. When you’d finally sunk all the way down, your nose brushing against his pelvis, Jungkook’s head rolled back and he let out a heavy sigh that sounded suspiciously like a whimper. Seeing him crumble under your touch boosted your pride and ego. Feeling like you finally had some power in this situation, you decided to go further, just to pull more of those cute whimpers out of him. You pulled back before sinking down on him again, letting his cock hit the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck, he moaned, his hands flying to the back of your head to grab your hair. You repeated the action two more times, pulling a string of curses and moans from his lips that hit your ears like music. Just as you were pulling your head back for another time, Jungkook’s hands pushed your head forward, thrusting his own hips so his cock was buried deep in your throat. The action caught you off guard, your hands coming up to hold his thighs, attempting to stabilize yourself. Your throat burned at the abrupt intrusion and you felt tears beginning to well in your eyes as he held you there. But the look of pleasure etched on his face and the pretty moans leaving his lips were incentive enough for you to stay there. You tried your best to focus on breathing through your nose as he buried his cock as deep as he could.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. “Who knew your mouth felt this fucking good?” He asked rhetorically, his voice low and hoarse, finally opening his eyes. Seeing you looking up at him with his cock stuffed down your throat, tears streaming down your face, and trying your best to nod to his question proved to be overwhelming for Jungkook. He felt like he could cum right there and then. With a growl, he yanked you off his cock, finally giving you a chance to breathe. You coughed as you tried to catch your breath, trying to wipe away your tears and the saliva dripping down your chin. He had to look away from you for a moment or he thought he’d go crazy. So he slowly stroked his cock, letting his head roll back, as you caught your breath.

You breathed heavily, unable to do anything but look up at him in a haze. As soon as you caught your breath, you wrapped your lips around his cock again. Jungkook looked at you through hooded eyes as you eagerly sank down on his cock again. He didn’t even give you a second to readjust, a hand fisting your hair as his hips snapped forward. He set a rough pace, leaving your throat feeling raw already. You could feel his anger and frustration with every thrust.

“Fuck, I should’ve just done this,” he growled. “Every time you ran your mouth, should’ve just stuffed it with cock. Bet you would’ve loved that,” he grunted, quickly getting close to the edge. You whimpered softly around him, unsure if you were agreeing or not. “Such a fucking slut,” he groaned, punctuating the words with harsh thrusts. His movements were getting rougher and sloppier as he hurtled closer to the edge. You held onto his thighs for support, letting him use your mouth.

“Fuck I’m getting close,” he groaned. He cursed under his breath seeing the anticipation in your eyes. He quickly yanked your head back and stroked his cock quickly. “Fucking hell, you know how bad I wanna cum all over your face? Let everyone at the table see what a fucking cockslut you are for me?” He groaned, his hand moving quickly. You stared up at him, burning the sight into your mind.

“Don’t care, just want your cum,” you gasped, still catching your breath. That was all Jungkook needed to hear to completely lose himself.

He quickly buried his cock in your mouth again as he came. Curses and moans spilled from his lips, his hot cum shooting down your throat. You could see his adam’s apple move with every groan and it was driving you crazy. There was no doubt that you were soaking wet and you ached to be filled up. Your tongue soothed his cock, coaxing him to give you more. Even after he finished, he kept himself buried in your mouth, savouring the feeling. After a few moments, he finally pulled away. His gaze was piercing as he tucked himself back into his pants, straightening himself up. You finally stood up again, brushing at your aching knees. Your heart was pounding in your ears at the anticipation of what was going to come. After all, you’d definitely been good to him. Jungkook looked at your sloppy appearance and smiled sadistically.

“Who knew you were such a filthy slut?” He taunted, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Sucking dick in a public bathroom so desperately,” he mocked. His tone made your stomach drop. Your heart continued racing with excitement and unease. He leaned in closer. “Should be enough dick to get you through the next week without being a bitch to me, right?”

You couldn’t hide the wince at his words. The spite in his voice stung. Sure he was degrading you before, but this time he sounded like he meant it. He stepped back from you, looking over you without a hint of warmth. “Might wanna clean up before you come back out,” he said nonchalantly, unlocking the bathroom door. “Wouldn’t want everyone to know that you had my cock down your throat,” he said coldly. Then he was out the door, leaving you a mess, alone in the bathroom. You couldn’t move for a few moments, still trying to process what had just happened. You’d never seen him that angry and bitter before. You couldn’t believe that he’d just left you to clean yourself up after all that. The only thing that snapped you out of your thoughts was the thought of someone walking in on you like this. You finally moved to lock the door again.

“What the fuck,” you sighed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You shot yourself a dirty look, seeing the state you were in. You felt humiliated. As you fixed yourself up, you mentally cursed yourself for letting your guard down around Jungkook. You should’ve known that he would act like a dick. Underneath that charming exterior, he was downright awful. Of course he would insult and humiliate you after getting what he wanted. You could feel the anger bubble up in your chest, threatening to make you march back to the table and yell at him in front of everyone. But you knew you couldn’t. You’d be exposing yourself in that process and the last thing you wanted people to know was that you gave in to Jungkook. You couldn’t be seen as one of those stupid girls that were chasing him all the time. You weren’t one of them. Taking a deep breath to calm down, you took one last look in the mirror. After making sure you looked decent again, you finally stepped out of the bathroom.

As you walked back to the table, an obnoxious, high pitched laugh made your stomach churn with dread. Jungkook sat there, his arm draped over the booth behind the same girl from before, smirking as he spoke to her. She was leaning in so close that any movement would have their lips touching. You felt sick when he whispered in her ear, chuckling at whatever she responded with. You could’ve thrown up right there and then, your blood running cold. There was no way in hell you were gonna sit there and watch him act like this after everything that happened. As soon as you got to the table, you grabbed your bag and jacket, refusing to look at the two of them.

“Hey, Y/n are you leaving?” someone asked. You couldn’t even tell who was talking, too busy trying to escape this hell. “Yeah, feeling kinda sick,” you mumbled, already turning on your heels. You heard some ‘goodbye’s and ‘feel better’s from behind you but you just hastily waved without turning around. When you finally got into the cold night, the air felt like a slap to your face. It smacked some sense back into you. Your mind reeled with the events of the night and you wondered what you could’ve possibly been thinking. You just started speed walking, nearly sprinting, towards the subway, desperate to get home and wash the filth and disgust that caked your skin and clawed at your insides.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

One of the more interesting theories I've seen is "The Arcane is a metaphor for The Narrative, and Act 3 is about the characters breaking away from the path the Arcane set for them". (Admittedly, there's still a good chance that they're going to become something close to their League selves, but for the sake of the fic, "League Canon" is different from "The Predetermined Path The Arcane Has In Mind".)

I mean, that's definitely A Way™ to try and thematically integrate something like Ekko's time travel into the story... but I don't think they should or will do that, because it kinda flies in the face of everything Arcane has otherwise been about.

Arcane has been about how class and systems of power push people to act in certain ways, it has been about privilege and deprivation, it has been about how cycles of violence and trauma forcibly replicate themselves under oppression, and it has been about the ways in which all of those things can push people to become the worst versions of themselves with the absolute best of intentions.

See Silco and Vander both acting out of love for their cities to try and make the best future they can for their children and fellow citizens, and the consequences of both their methods. See Viktor and Jayce trying their damndest to invent something that will make the world better, vs the pain and devastation their Hextech causes in the world.

Season 2 goes HARD on this too - Caitlyn being enabled and very actively pushed by her class position to turn her grief and trauma into authoritarian oppression, Vi letting guilt and obligation push her into becoming a part of it "for the greater good" because she's desperately trying to live up to what Vander taught her by example.

And saying "ah, no wait actually, it is The Narrative Of The Fiction that is causing this to happen to us!" very badly undercuts all of that. The whole narrative up until this point has been about how bad systems make monsters out of good people, and to pull back the curtain, Wizard of Oz style, and find that it was just A Guy doing it, some wilful entity imposing a narrative on the world... that's a very different kind of story.

At worst, it would turn Arcane into metanarrative wank - a corporation jerking itself off over its IPs and cinematic universe, or writers jerking themselves off over how important and powerful writing is, why, it is the most powerful force in the entire world of our fiction! (looking at you, Game of Thrones Season 8).

From the very start, what I have feared the most is that Riot would turn Arcane into a story not about its characters, but a story about the League of Legends™ family of exciting and highly engaging intellectual properties which we are excited to leverage in a cross-brand synergistic market activation. A story whose ultimate point is "buy League of Legends skins and get excited for Phase 2 of the League of Legends Cinematic Universe!"

So yeah... I would like The Arcane to be a thing inside of its own universe and bound by its rules, not a thing which represents the commercial concerns of the world we live in. I hope you are not correct about that interpretation.

[bam-stroker]

I got possessed by the opportunity for silly in @keferon's Texaid mech au and ended up with a slice of serious as well. Oh well, Bone Apple Teeth! - - - - -

Every muscle and joint in First Aid’s body aches. Flopped over the official break room lunch table, his face has been buried in his arms for at least twenty minutes. He’d taken one tired bite from a sad little sandwich at the start of his break, and now it’s just wilting beside him before he officially decides to just trash it. To be honest, he can’t find the energy to actually care. After months of cleaning up the messes left behind by that thing, lunch has become a “me time” escape for him as opposed to an actual meal. 

Well, to an extent. It can only be so much of a solo time with the cross over of employee lunch breaks. 

“You know, it’s not good to skip a meal when you work as hard as you do.” 

The sentiment is entirely sincere. Even face down, he can see the exact sad little face across from him. Those familiar blue eyes always twinkling with feeling. First Aid only grunts in acknowledgement. Why does Tailgate always have to be so… caring? He thinks to himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the memory of harsh laughter echoes at his thought. But it’s mechanical. As if that… machine is now a part of him. Haunting him. Or maybe it’s like a disease? But he can’t think of any illness where something like that can listen and watch to see the world through his eyes. Haunting it is then.

Whatever. He’ll take more time to care about that when he’s able to lift his head back up. Below his breath First Aid mutters, “I bet you like that, huh? Wearing me out. Must be so funny.” 

The voice in his head has nothing to say. 

First Aid huffs. Jerk.

Tailgate on the other hand, continues to pry. “So… Were you talking to him just then?”

Great. He’s saying shit out loud. Stellar! Amazing! This is going to do great things for his crumbling people skills. First Aid musters up that one sandwich bite’s worth of energy left in him to sit up. The popping of his joints should be concerning, but on the priorities list—stepping into a death trap daily as a new career—it’s hardly the top of it. 

“Look, Tailgate, I’m sorry. Yeah… I was talking to—” he starts to reply, and then cocks his head in confusion. “Wait, did you just say ‘him’?”

And there goes the old Tailgate big wet eyes shine. He nods his round little pale face, the short crop of his bleached white hair bouncing with the movement. “Well, yeah! Vortex is the one haunting it, right?” 

First Aid can’t help but sigh, slumping back into the uncomfortable break room chair. “Come on,” he replies. “Don’t tell me you’re another ghost believer?” 

He tries to keep the shake out of his voice. He tries to keep up the act, because if he admits it… if he admits it then it all becomes real.

Tailgate nods, giving a thoughtful hum as he eyes the sandwich waiting patiently to be eaten. “There’s a lot of stuff I don’t understand. But, it feels easier to talk about it like that,” he says. Looking back up to lock eyes with First Aid, there’s a weight behind his gaze. “You’re not the only one cleaning up the messes around here. So let me be a little superstitious to help me get through the job.”

With a heavy sigh, First Aid breaks the eye contact. It’s too much. 

He crosses his arms, staving off a shiver from the memory of the first time he ever cleaned up the mech. Of the look on Tailgate’s face, so scared, when he’d handed him the remnants. 

The janitor and the wannabe medic. What a sad sorry pair.

All First Aid can offer is a nod of his head in acknowledgement, before he changes the subject. “So yeah, I’ve been talking to…him. It’s about all I can do, since he’s the one, ugh, actually driving.” 

Tailgate gasps loudly, as he leans forward. “It’s like reverse Ratatouille!”

“What??” 

“He’s the rat, and you’re the chef.” Tailgate continues, an entirely too excited smile on his face. 

“No!”

“Yes!!” 

First Aid groans, rubbing his palms against his eyes. “Tailgate. Please. How is this anything like ratatouille?” He pleads.

Between the cracks of his fingers, he watches Tailgate gleefully lay out his vision. “Everybody thinks it’s you—but it’s really him driving. So you’re like the chef, but instead of being on the outside, you’re on the inside—that’s why it’s reverse—because the rat is in the hat driving the guy like some kind of chef mech suit in the movie. But the ghost mech is driving you. So you’re reverse ratatouille!”

There are no words. There’s absolutely nothing he can say in response to the nightmare of his new life being summed up as accurately as “reverse ratatouille”. 

With a weary sigh, First Aid leans forward on the table, staring down as if some other answer to what his life has become will appear like a magic eight ball in the scratched up countertop. 

No such luck. It’s the same table he’s looked at day after day. 

“Reverse Ratatouille…” First Aid murmurs. A haunted look in his eyes.

“Reverse Ratatouille.” Tailgate chimes back chipperly.

Far off in the haunted abyss of his mind, First Aid hears the crystal clear laughter of the mech at the revelation. 

Reverse Ratatouille.

[byjove-cannibalcove]

my uncle (who 15 years later is a super anti-trans pro-trump guy) when i told him i was trans as a teenager: starts explaining to me that i should date older divorced women "because if they are used goods theyll just be glad anyone is willing to take them, which is how (2007 version of the phrase 'low value men') like us get 9s and 10s, ive NEVER dated below a 7, hot girls get desperate when they're older" --(coincidentally we stopped to eat and even though i was not attempting to pass i walked into the womens bathroom and a man saw me doing it and GRABBED ME and scolded me and tried to push me towards the men room and i froze up, squeaked, hurried into the womens room, he went and got a manager, i had to go 'no im a girl' like it was.. not fun! a very BAD first accidental passing situation! i only felt miserable embarrassed and in danger. )

a year or so later, coming out to my dad id only recently met as being a 16ish year old Lesbian (because i didnt trust him enough to come out as trans): 'oh okay, cool, lets go to hooters and oggle the waitresses, they are hot but stupid haha, i like stupid girls the most (note, his gf was 20 years younger than him) but id FUCK Sarah Palin, im only going to vote for Mccain just because Palin is HOT, hey did you hear they made a porn of her lookalike? yeah i know she hates gay people (and you are gay) but who cares, shes fUCKABLE i dont care what shes SAYING i just care about her BOOBS'

when i was about 18 during the training week for my first ever job at krogers i managed to pass without realizing it until the dudes invited just me (not the 1 girl) to eat lunch with them and just IMMEDIATELY started talking about fucking girls, girls being worthless if they were ugly and 'if theyre ugly just fuck em in the mouth hahaha' and HEY you know what i did NOT feel liek one of the boys, i felt like i was IN DANGER if they clocked me!! i did not feel like id gotten a special pass to the Fun Misogyny World where id get paid more, i was a 5'2" spotty teen boy working his first ever job as a grocery bagger who was now kind of scared his new coworkers might kill him, because ALL id done to pass was have short hair, be naturally kinda ugly, and have a gender-neutral nickname. none of my bosses thought i was a guy, they could find out at any second (as soon as we got back from lunch, evern) , that i was a worthless ugly girl that had invaded their space for their private conversatoin and maybe theyd decide to to show me what they meant!!!???

i have pretty much never managed to pass Ever Again after that point as far as i know, just a handful of times where a service worker went 'sir' to me, so these are pretty much the only times ive ever passed and it wasnt super fun!! so like!! maybe if youre a big huge strong tough trans guy with a spine of steel, complete confidence in your ability to pass and defend yourself, are in a highpowered/skilled enough environment to not worry about your job opportunities, maybe in that case invitations to the Fun Special Misogyny Club are being handed out even if you disclose that youre trans and hey, maybe its even fun to be there! ... but acting like thats the DEFAULT is just insane.

I'm this close to just sending that trans inclusive radical misogynist post, the one about how there's loads of guys who'll go "oh, you're a man now, great, come shit talk women with us" to every blog insisting that trans men can't have male privilege and it's transandrophobia to say they do. Not every trans man has this experience but it's actually pretty common even for out trans men to be seen as, if not "real" men depending on who you ask, certainly non-women, and encouraged to perform misogyny as part of their social transition.

[janeyseymour]

All To Myself

requested by @schemmentisbaby

Summary: Your little girl is getting ready to go to Abbott- not that your wife's coworkers know.

WC: ~3.6k

Melissa Schemmenti, second grade teacher at Abbott Elementary, your wife, and mother to your beautiful little girl: Grace Marie. Melissa Schemmenti, a woman who rarely talks about herself, so all that her coworkers know about her is that she’s married- and even then, she wishes they didn’t know that. It’s not that she has anything to hide or like she’s ashamed of you, but after growing up the way that she did, she’s learned that keeping her mouth shut about personal information is probably for the best. The fact that people know she’s a Schemmenti holds enough weight as it is.

Your wife has been able to keep it quiet that she has a little girl due to the fact that while she is present on Facebook, and so are you, there are very few people that she has on there. The only people that she’s so graciously allowed to friend her on that social media app are you, her family (yes, Kristen Marie included), and one Mrs. Barbara Howard. Those that are present on your social media aren’t aware of the weight that your last name now holds, having grown up just outside of Philly in the suburbs. So when you post images or updates on how your life is going, it doesn’t much matter, and Melissa doesn’t mind.

The second grade teacher has been relatively successful at keeping the personal and professional lives from mixing. That is going to change though, because Gracie is getting ready to head into kindergarten at none other than Willard R. Abbott Elementary School.

“Hun,” you sigh to your wife quietly as the two of you begin to grasp the fact that Grace is going to be attending your wife’s workplace.

“I just didn’t think it was going to be happening so soon,” Melissa mumbles. “I mean, it’s like she was born yesterday, and now she’s getting ready to enter kindergarten.”

“You’re telling me,” you chuckle. “I feel like we were hearing her heartbeat for the first time, and now we’re getting ready to send our baby to school.”

“Jesus, we’re gettin’ old.”

As it turns out, Grace is more than excited to be heading to school- she’s so excited to see the place where her mother works, and she can’t wait to be a big kid. And luck just so has it that your daughter is placed in her Aunt Barbie’s class.

“I get to be with Aunt Barbie all day?!” Grace squeals out with excitement when you tell her who her kindergarten teacher is.

You can’t help but chuckle at how precious she is. “You do, but at school she’s Mrs. Howard, yeah?”

Your little girl nods her head with enthusiasm. “When do I get to go?”

“School starts in two weeks, but Mommy goes in next week,” Melissa tells your little girl at the dinner table. “And on that Wednesday, they have a special night for kindergarteners to meet their teachers and get familiar with the school.”

“I can’t wait for school!”

“Oh, but I can,” your wife grumbles so that only you can hear her.

The day before Melissa goes back to Abbott for professional development days, she’s a bit more moody than usual. Because of this, your little girl spends most of the day with you. The redhead is stressed beyond belief trying to ensure that she has everything packed into her car to take to the school for the new year. She’s focusing on meal prepping so she can just grab things and go. Her outfit for whatever reason is stressing her out more than it usually would.

“Honey,” you mumble as she stands in your closet staring at all of her shirts. You wrap your arms around her waist and set your chin on her shoulder before kissing her neck gently. She hums as she leans into your affections.

“What has you so worked up tonight?” you prod gently. “Usually you don’t care what you wear to work.”

“I just… these are the last few days where my coworkers will see me as just Melissa, not Grace’s mother,” she admits. “Reminds me I’m gettin’ older.”

“We are getting older,” you remind her. “But that just means that we’re one step closer to retirement, to having a beautiful daughter to take care of us, more years of love under our belt.”

Your wife sighs softly and cranes her neck to look at you. “How do you always know what to say to help calm me down?”

“We’ve been married for years,” you chuckle. “Practice.”

The next morning, Grace cannot for the life of her understand why she doesn’t get to go with Melissa to her new school. She’s gotten herself dressed and ready, adorned with the backpack that is just about the size of her, and her new sparkly shoes.

“Mi amore,” your wife sighs as she kneels down to pull your daughter into a hug. “Mommy has to go do boring things at the school. Trust me when I tell you, you would rather stay with Momma and play at home for these last few days.”

“But I want you!” your little girl pouts. “I want Aunt Barbie!”

“And you’ll get me tonight,” Melissa tries to placate. “And I will talk to Aunt Barbie and see if she can come over today after work to play for a little bit, how does that sound?”

That seems to satisfy your daughter who comes bouncing over to you. She curls into your arms as your wife makes her way out the door.

At work, the redhead is happy to see her work wife, but she isn’t necessarily thrilled to be back at work for the school year.

“I saw Gracie’s name on my list for this year,” Barbara whispers to her friend when she’s certain no one else can hear.

“She’s real excited to have you as her kindergarten teacher,” Melissa chuckles softly. “She’s asking for you already. I told her I would see if you could come over after work today.”

“She’ll be sick of me by the end of this year,” the kindergarten teacher laughs.

Green eyes are rolled. “I doubt that. I’m fairly certain my kid loves you more than she loves me or Y/N.”

“You know your little girl has the most love for her mothers,” Barb smirks. “And then of course for Aunt Barbie. I’ll be there.”

“And I’m going to need every hand on deck for kindergarten orientation on Wednesday,” Ava announces. “This is the biggest class to come through Abbott since the 90s.”

“No can do,” Melissa states in front of everyone. “Have business I need to take care of, and it ain’t like you’re payin’ me.” She shoots her boss a look that dares her to challenge.

The principal quirks her lips to the side before rolling her eyes and sighing loudly. “Every hand on deck except for Red Hot.”

After the workday is done, the kindergarten and second grade teachers make their way back to your house. You and your little girl are sitting in the living room reading a book when you hear the front door open and close. All thoughts of the game are abandoned when Gracie jumps to her feet and goes to the door as fast as her little legs will take her. She launches herself at Melissa, who catches her with ease. Then she’s throwing herself at Barbara, who has just barely kneeled down to embrace her.

“How’s my baby girl?” Barbara asks as she kisses your daughter’s head.

Your little girl soaks up the attention. “Good! I want to go to school though.”

“Well, that comes next week, but I’m sure Mommy’s told you about how you’ll get to come see my classroom in a few days.” When Grace nods with excitement, Barbara continues. “And I know at home I’m Aunt Barbie, but at school I have to be Mrs. Howard. Think you can remember that for me, baby?”

“Pinky swears,” your daughter holds out her pinky with a grin.

“That’s my girl,” the kindergarten teacher smiles as she links pinkies with your little girl. “Now, what are we going to do today?”

Come Wednesday, after a long day of professional development in the morning and prepping for open house on Thursday, Melissa comes home to you and your excitable daughter.

“Mommy!” Grace goes running over to the front door, abandoning her station to help you prepare dinner.

“Mi amore,” your wife sighs happily as she lifts your daughter to her hip. “My beautiful girl.”

Grace giggles incessantly as the teacher pecks her cheeks continuously. Then your wife is making her way over to you.

“My gorgeous wife,” she whispers as she kisses you softly. “You’re the best.”

“I’m making your favorite,” you tell her quietly as you lean in to kiss her again.

Grace makes a face at your affections. “Ew, moms. Stop kissin’!”

The two of you roll your eyes in a playful manner. “You know I just love your momma so much,” Melissa laughs that low laugh that you find irresistible. She kisses you again.

“Are you ready to go see Aunt Barbie and your new school?” the redhead asks gently as she sets your daughter back down on the chair you have pulled up to the counter.

“Mrs. Howard,” Grace corrects with a toothy smile as she picks up the spoon to begin mixing the salad again.

Melissa rolls her eyes and pokes your daughter in the belly. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

After dinner, your family makes their way down to Abbott. Grace clings to your hand the entire time. At the thought of going to a new school, she was excited. But now that the time is upon her, she’s nervous.

“It’ll all be okay, Gracie girl,” Melissa promises. “You know Mommy wouldn’t work here or let you go here if it wasn’t a good place to be.”

That seems to settle your daughter’s nerves just slightly, but she still remains close to you.

You and Grace walk in and head right to the little check in, knowing immediately where to go. Barbara just smiles and checks off your daughter’s name before greeting your wife who is trailing a few paces behind.

“Melissa!” you hear the boisterous voice of the principal of the school. “You said you wasn’t coming!”

Your wife just rolls her eyes and shrugs. “What can I say?”

The incoming class of kindergarteners are ushered into the gym for a quick presentation of teachers that they might come across throughout the school year. Of course, Barbara is up on the stage with all of the kindergarten teachers, but so is your wife and the rest of her work crew, as well as some other staff members that she rarely mentions.

Once that’s over with, they begin to move the children down to the classrooms that they’ll be spending most of their time in for the year. Grace takes your hand gently and guides you towards the correct line.

Abbott is a special school, you can see that just by walking through the halls. It’s filled with artwork from students, there are several plaques with various award titles on them, the teachers who are helping to guide students around are warm. Aside from the odd lingering smell, you can understand why Melissa works here and has worked here for years. 

Your wife lingers in the room under the guise of just helping out her work wife- it makes sense to the rest of the staff that she would go with Barbara. Grace finds her desk with ease, knowing all of the letters in her name. She squeals with happiness when she sees the few little goodies that Mrs. Howard left on the students’ desks.

“Momma,” your little girl tugs on your shirt. “Sit with me?”

You oblige her request with a smile, settling in her chair before pulling her on top of you. Grace brightens and gives your wife a thumbs up before beginning to color the princess page Barbara had placed there. You can’t help but press a soft kiss to your girl’s temple before looking up at your wife with a smile. She’s absolutely precious. Melissa tries to hide the fact that she was sneaking a picture of the two of you, but it’s no use. Her cheeks tint just slightly red before shrugging her shoulders with a bashful smile.

The rest of your daughter’s class settles in and is allowed to color for a few moments while Barbara and Melissa chat with parents- no doubt answering questions that will surely be answered within the next few minutes.

Your wife’s boss makes her way into the classroom, and she eyes the redhead warily before teasing her. “I shoulda known you’d find your way into Barb’s classroom.”

“Well, she is-”

“I don’ care,” Ava states. She turns to scan the room, and her eyes immediately land on you. She winks.

You have to fight to roll your eyes. It’s funny that she chose you to focus in on, but it will be even funnier when she realizes that she just hit on her shadiest teacher’s wife.

Before the principal can say anything too out of line, Barbara claps her hands together and begins her spiel about herself as a teacher, the classroom that the students will be in, and the school itself.

Grace seems more than content to sit in your lap and color quietly while Melissa nods along to the things that her work wife is saying. She knows it all already, but it’s nice hearing what will be expected of your little girl while she’s in Barb’s classroom.

“And now, while the parents are filling out the paperwork necessary for the beginning of the school year, I figured I might take the students on a walking tour of the areas in the school that they’ll be in,” the kindergarten teacher explains with a clap of her hands. “So, we’re going to practice lining up and walking in the hallways like big kindergarteners.”

She manages to line up the entire class quietly before walking them out the door with Melissa. You sigh and begin to quietly fill out the paperwork for your little girl. It’s a while before you hear footsteps come back into the room, just as you’re getting ready to write down Melissa’s name under the second guardian spot. When you look up, you expect to see Barbara, your wife, and the students in tow. Instead, it’s Ava again, and she’s looking directly at you- you can practically feel her eyes on you.

“Does anybody have any questions about Abbott?” the principal asks.

A few hands go up, but she blatantly ignores them. She points to you. “What about you, angel face?”

Your brow goes up. “I think I’m all good, but thank you.”

“Surely you can’t know everything there is to know about this school,” Ava frowns. “You have to have at least one question.”

“Not that I can think of,” you tell her. If you do think of a question, you doubt she’ll know the answer to it anyway.

“Is that little girl of yours your first one to go through Abbott?”

You nod. “But I know all about this school.”

“Oh?” Ava smirks. “You did your research?”

Instead of telling her that your wife is Melissa, you just nod. Sure, you had done your research and asked your wife about the building, but you know the ins and outs of this school- the things that go on behind the scenes. 

You think that’s the end of the conversation and start to write “Mrs.”, but she makes her way further into the room, and she stands over you sitting at a student desk.

“Where’s the wife?” Ava asks you as she leans against the desk. She drapes a gentle hand over your wrist. “Because I know someone as fine as you has one.”

You look up to her with a smirk before beginning to write down Melissa’s name.

Almost comically, the principal gasps and her hands fly to her mouth. She stands straight up. “You ain’t telling me Melissa is your wife, are you?!”

With impeccable timing, Melissa walks back into the classroom with Barbara and the kindergarteners. 

“I am,” is all your wife states as she folds her arms over her chest and stares down her boss. “Why? You got something to-”

“Bye, y’all,” Ava runs out of the classroom as quickly as she had come in.

Barbara just looks to you with the silent question of if the principal was flirting with you, and you nod subtly.

Your wife sees red for a split second before she makes her way over to you with your daughter and wraps her arm around the top of your shoulders.

“Idiot,” Melissa grumbles as she plants a kiss to the top of your head. “Flirting with my wife like that.”

You reach up a hand and lay yours gently over hers. “She didn’t know because you didn’t tell her.”

“‘Cause she has no business knowin’ about my personal life,” your wife mutters.

“She will now,” you remind her. “Grace is goin’ here now, and you know that Ava’s gonna open her mouth about it the first chance she gets.”

“Which will be once everyone is out of the school, and we somehow get corralled into helping break everything,” Melissa rolls her eyes.

It’s a bit of time before Ava makes the announcement that all families should head out of the building to allow the teachers to get home for the night. But when you think that Melissa is going to try to book it out of there as quickly as possible, she begins to help her work wife straighten up her classroom.

You know that the two of them are quite close, but it is something else to see them working together in silence. It’s like how you and Melissa work- in sync, with ease, naturally.

And then the rest of the group begins to come in, asking questions before they even fully enter the room to see you and your little girl sitting quietly on the carpet reading a book together. Okay, you’re reading, but Grace is touching each word as you read.

You pause your reading as the boisterous group comes in. Their eyes immediately go to you, and they halt their questioning.

“I’m sorry,” a shorter woman, who you can only assume is Janine, speaks quietly. “I didn’t realize you still had a student in the room.”

“They’re fine,” Melissa cuts in before anyone else can say anything. “They’re with me.”

Gregory furrows his brow. “Why would they-”

“Melissa Schemmenti, when the hell was you goin’ to tell us you have a daughter that was going to come to Abbott?!” the principal yells as she struts in. “And that your wife was fine as-” She cuts herself off at the challenging look green eyes give her.

“They’re with me because that’s my wife and my daughter,” the redhead points to the two of you. “Gracie, come say hi to Mommy’s friends.”

Your little girl jumps out of your lap and runs over to your wife, who lifts her onto her hip with ease. “I’m Gracie, and I’m five!” she holds out an entire hand for emphasis. Her smile is enough to melt their hearts.

“Oh, Mel Mel, she’s so cute,” Jacob grins as he high fives your daughter.

“Mi amore,” Melissa jerks her head for you to come over.

“Y/N,” you smile that charming smile of yours as you wrap an arm around the Melissa. “Mrs. Schemmenti, if you will.”

“How the hell didn’t we know about this now?” Mr. Johnson wrinkles his nose. “That’s a load of bull… trash.”

Emerald eyes are rolled. “Because the boss don’t look at the rosters to know who’s comin’ in.”

“I did!”

“Did you?” Janine narrows her eyes as she looks to the principal. 

Ava looks offended. “So what if I did or did not? Overseeing an entire school is hard! It ain’t my fault Melissa never told us she had a daughter!”

“You didn’t tell them about me?” Grace frowns, and she looks a bit wounded by that knowledge.

“Mommy just wanted you all to herself,” your wife promises as she dots a few kisses along your daughter’s hairline.

That seems to placate your daughter, who snuggles right back up to the redhead before yawning. “Aunt Barbie is my teacher.”

“She is,” you chuckle as you smooth down a few of her wild locks. “But at school she’s Mrs. Howard, remember?”

“Mrs. Howard is my teacher,” your little girl yawns out.

“I think it’s about time we head home,” Melissa chuckles softly. She looks to you. “Are you about ready t’head out?”

You nod and grab your purse from where Grace will be sitting next Monday. “Well, it was really nice to finally meet you all,” you chuckle out. “I know she’s in good hands here at Abbott.”

The group seems to have more questions for the redhead that is quickly escorting you out, but she ignores them and ushers you out.

Just as you’re leaving, Ava shouts down the hallway, “Girl, don’t think we ain’t talkin’ ‘bout how youse are milfs tomorrow!”

There’s a loud chorus of “Ava!” that can be heard right after. You have to hide the smile. You’re already well aware that your wife is hot.

“Momma?” Grace looks to you with curious eyes.

“Yeah baby?” you ask.

“What’s a milf?”

“Ava is dead tomorrow,” your wife grumbles.

“You love your boss, and your coworkers,” you remind her.

Melissa sighs heavily. “They’re freakin’ lucky.”

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