#anyway for now take this shitty one i made at my desk at work

[sebnameyourcar]

he thinks he’s sooo funny. unfortunately he is

#seb #sebastian vettel #i don’t have time to learn how to gif properly i have two jobs and a dissertation to do #but… i want to #anyway for now take this shitty one i made at my desk at work #sailgp

[gisellaswrld]

i never doubted your loyalty once; until you decided that being loyal meant hurting your lover

af11 | after many conversations with the fantilli family, you decided to make one last attempt to reach out to adam.

"Come on, Y/N." Luca pleaded, staring down at your in your dorm. "I don't know why you think it's a bad idea." Luca crossed his arms over his chest. Your uncertain gaze just stared at him, silence following his words. "Give me on good reason, then I'll leave it alone."

"He hates me, Luca." You stated, voice low. "Me and Adam are done, there's nothing left."

"Bullshit--dude I was the one who listened to him after you guys broke up--he doesn't hate you!" Luca quickly replied, his hands flailing up. "I'll give you my Bio notes for a whole month, even the rest of the semester."

"I don't want your notes, be so for real Luca." You cracked a smile, rolling your eyes. "What if I do it, right? Then he plays like shit on his first game, then he get's even more angry at me." You conjured up the false scenario.

"He's bound to play like shit anyways!" Luca retaliated, he was begging you at this point. "No one plays good on their debut."

"The answer is no, Luca. Now go, I know you have workouts in twenty." You got up from the desk chair, shooing Luca out of your dorm.

"But-"

"No, Luca! Go!" You pushed him gently out of your dorm. You shut the door in his face, avoiding anymore pleading from him. Once you heard his footsteps walk away from the door, you let out a deep breath, leaning your forehead against the door.

There was no way you were recording a video for this montage.

Your break up with Adam was far too fresh, still painful in your heart, and probably his. It wasn't a mutual breakup either, in fact, neither of you wanted to break up. Your last argument was one that couldn't leave your head. It didn't leave during the silent times in class, when you were trying to sleep, or in the warm afternoons where there was silent.

It racked your brain.

"So, Ohio?" You spoke, watching Adam tug at the roots of his hair. He had been pacing around the hotel room since you guys got back. "What are we going to do, Y/N?" Adam abruptly spoke, standing in front of you.

The question took you aback, shocked that he would ask that. "What do you mean?" You tilted your head in confusion. "I mean, we can barely go three hours without being around each other. Now we are going to be hundreds of miles away from each other."

You quickly stood from the bed, anxious nerves filling your brain. "Adam--what--no, what?" You stuttered out. "We'll be able to work it out, it's not like your in California!"

"I know, I know. But still, I don't want it to cause problems between us. It'll make being away from you worse." Adam sighed, attempting to reach out and grab you hand. You quickly pulled yours away. "The fuck-"

"Why does it seem like you've already made this decision?" You stated, glaring at Adam. "Why does it seem like you've made this decision before we came here? Have you been thinking about leaving me?"

"The way your saying it is making me look like a shitty guy." Adam rolled his eyes, taking a step back from you. "Then tell me, Adam! Enlighten me about how I'm supposed to be saying this!" You shouted, a hand running through your hair.

"I mean, Y/N, we thought I was going to Anaheim. That's across the fucking country. You are telling me that thought never crossed you mind? You are telling me that the thought of distance breaking us up didn't cross your mind?" Adam spoke, his voice laced with sadness.

"Did you really think I was going to leave and that we were going to be perfectly fine?" Adam added, his eyes staring into your watering ones.

"No, I guess not." You spoke softly, tears falling down your face. "But I didn't think it was going to cause us to break up, Adam. I thought we would figure out a way to work things out. I really thought that." You shook your head, anger filling your voice once more.

"Then I think you were being naive about this." Adam deadpanned, venom lacing his voice.

"Adam, god you can call me naive, you can say I was being selfish or stupid. But, sorry for truly thinking that a three year relationship wouldn't go down the drain because you were going into the NHL. I'm sorry I didn't spend my nights wondering how we were going to end like you did. Fuck you, I hope you are lonely in Columbus. I won't be here when you wake up." You seethed, grabbing your things to rush out of his hotel room. You didn't forget to slam the door on the way out.

That night, you slept in Luca's room, crying as hard as you could.

You weren't expecting for Luca to ask you to be in the montage, you especially weren't expecting for Julia Fantilli to call you up. She encouraged you to make a small video, even if it was five seconds, she knew it would resonate with him in the slightest bit.

So, here you sat on your bed. Your phone leaning against a filled water bottle on your nightstand. It took twenty-nine tries, to be exact. At try fifteen, you had to plan out what you were going to say on a index card.

You sent the clip off to Luca, adding a small message with it. Now you just had to wait the three days until October 12, hoping this video wouldn't cause Adam to play like shit in his debut.

Adam knew a few of his family members and old teammates were creating something for him to watch on his birthday. He did not know that your face would pop up on the screen.

After watching a video of him from when he was younger, then Brindley, then Seamus, then his grandparents, then his brother, then his parents, he figured the video was over.

Then your face popped onto the screen.

"Hi Adam!" You spoke, your voice quiet. He recognized the surroundings quickly. You were in your dorm room at Michigan, the familiar posters from last year were still hung up on your wall. Except this time, pictures of you and Adam were missing.

Adam already had tears in his eyes, especially after watching the video from his brother. You were the last person he was expecting to be in the montage.

"I wanted to say happy birthday, and congratulations on your NHL debut. I know you probably weren't expecting this from me, but here I am." It was like you knew exactly what would be flowing through Adam's mind when you created this video.

"I'm so proud at how far you've came. I knew when I met you a long time ago you would do big things. Now, I'm sure you'll do even greater things." Your voice pained Adam more than he ever imagined. You sounded different, your voice was more sad and quiet than usual.

"I miss having you around in Michigan. I have no one to rant to about BioChem and Taylor Swift. But I know you are doing great things in Columbus. Good luck Adam, I love you." Then the video cut off.

Adam ran his hands down his face, his body feeling empty and heavy. He wasn't sure what greater god did this to knock some sense into his brain, but Adam knew he needed to fix this.

Adam had to fix it all.

#nhl imagine #nhl #nhl x reader #hockey #hockey imagines #adamfantilli #adam fantilli blurb #adam fantilli x reader #adam fantilli imagine #adam fantilli

[bookshelf-dust]

really know him

part i part ii part iii part iv

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3,686

warnings: swearing, reader has a shitty mom, a few uses of y/n, anxiety, fluff and angst

a/n: hi! listen, i know, i know, it’s been more than a month since i published part two and i’m sorry. but i promise it won’t take as long anymore. i hope you like this part! there’s a lot going on. it’s getting messy, my dudes. love you! <333

————

Your room is small. And you don’t mind that one bit. Hell, you’re lucky your parents snagged one of the few single-wide’s with a layout nice enough that there even are two bedrooms. 

But sometimes the small space can seem confining, like right now. 

You’ve been staring at college-ruled paper for what seems like forever now, and…you’ve got nothing. You spent all day brainstorming for this essay, and now that you’ve sat down, you’ve lost it all. It’s as if there isn’t a single coherent thought left in your brain. 

You hop up from your seat, thinking that if you get a drink, maybe listen to some music, then you’ll be able to get a hold on your concentration. 

And it works, for a while. You’ve been at your desk for well over an hour, and you’ve put a hell of a dent in your paper. 

But having your headphones on means you don’t hear your parents come home, not until your mother is smacking her fist against your door frame to get your attention. 

“Hello?”

You’re quick to push the pause button in on your walkman and put your headphones on the tabletop in front of you. The amount of eraser shavings you’ve accumulated is unsettling. 

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

Your mother lets out what you're sure is the most dramatic sigh known to man. “Of course you didn’t, not with those things on your ears.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better about it, okay?”

She crosses her arms, leaning against the wall just inside your room. “Mhm. How’s your paper going?”

“It’s fine. Not due for a week.”

“So you’ve said. Anyways, I came in here because I was at the store yesterday, and Sherri caught up with me.”

“Oh, yeah? How is she?”

Sherri Henson is a bitch. She’s the kind of woman who peaked in high school and can’t seem to grasp that—even if she is well into her fifties by now—spending all her time corralling the neighborhood gossip. She’s lived a couple trailers down from you your whole life. And she’s yet another reason why you need to get the fuck out of dodge. 

“Oh, she’s fine. She just wanted to tell me that she’s seen you hanging out with that Eddie Munson boy. And I haven’t heard good things about him. I just wanted to know what you were up to.”

Your stomach drops. Of course she’d say some shit like that. “We’re friends. I’m allowed to have those, aren’t I?”

“Yes. But don’t you think it would be wise to make good friends?”

You rub at your forehead, already sick of this. There’s a reason you don’t tell your mother anything about your life. 

“You don’t know anything about him, do you?”

Your mother pushes her glasses up into her mess of hair. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t really understand how you can be judgmental of a guy you don’t even know. You’re always whining about how I don’t have friends, and now that I’ve made one, he’s not good enough?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. I just don’t want you to harm your education by hanging around some good-for-nothing boy.”

“I think I can make my own decisions.”

“Clearly not. Look at you.” She doesn’t say anything more, but leaves the room instead. 

You should be used to this. You should know that your mother doesn’t like that you aren’t a carbon copy of her. But it still stings. The feeling is drowning you; the feeling of being pathetic, unsuccessful, embarrassing. 

You need a minute. It’s not like you can concentrate on your paper here anyways. Your mother has already shut herself up in her own bedroom, and you know she won’t miss you if you’re not around. 

A lift of the blinds in your bedroom tells you that Eddie’s van is parked outside his trailer, but you don’t feel right just running over, so you call. 

Of course he picks up.

He hasn’t even said his name yet and you’ve already started talking. “Eddie?”

“Hey, yeah, something wrong?”

You sound frazzled. If Eddie’s being totally straight with himself, he might even say you sound a little panicky. Claustrophobic, maybe.

He doesn’t like hearing you sound like this. 

“Would it be okay if I came over for a bit? You can say no, I just…your company might help.”

You can feel that cocky ass grin from over the phone. The way your words register in his brain and he comes up with a response he knows will get you riled up.

“Oh, my company? That what you need?”

“Eddie,” he can practically see you waving him off, “nevermind.”

He laughs. “Okay, sorry. Yeah, you can come over. You didn’t have to ask. Could’ve just busted in.”

“That seems like a horrendous idea. And isn’t Wayne home?”

“Yeah, but he sleeps like the dead. He wouldn’t even notice. That’s what he gets for having me around after all this time.”

“Poor Wayne.”

He scoffs and stumbles over his words. “Poor Wayne? 

“Yeah, I feel for him, having to put up with you all these years. Anyways, I’ll be there in a second.”

“You little shit–” he starts, but you’re already hanging up. 

Eddie opens the door closest to his room to watch for you. You bound across the road and up the concrete step, clearly pleased with yourself. He backs up, that stupid ass grin on his face, and gestures with his arm for you to go inside. 

He notices you’ve brought your bag with you. “Plotting my murder?” he inquires, eyes dancing over the corduroy. 

“Absolutely. Any sort of preference?”

He sits down on his bed, back to the wall. “Maybe the candlestick? Rope could be fun. Or if you’re feeling particularly malicious: poison.”

“Remind me to never play Clue with you.”

He laughs and it’s low and drawn out like he knows he’s being annoying. Like he knows you enjoy it. 

“Why, because you know I’ll kick your ass?”

You smile at him, and it feels like he’s won the lottery. “Precisely.” 

“I’d go easy on you,” he argues. 

“Bullshit.”

Eddie watches you fiddle with the zipper on your bag and then pull out a piece of paper. You flop down in his desk chair, making yourself at home. He’s told you to do that more than once, so he’s glad to see you act on it. 

“What are we working on?”

“I’m supposed to be finishing a paper, and that’s what I was doing, but being berated doesn’t really help my focus.”

He chuckles, opening a bag of Skittles you didn’t even know he had. “I wouldn’t think so. You wanna talk about it?”

“No, that’s okay.” 

Eddie nods, hoping you’ll open up to him sooner than later. 

“Would you prefer if I just went about my business while you worked?”

“I really would, Eddie. Thank you.”

“Mhm. Anything you need, sweetheart.”

He hops up, and his fingers go to mess with the radio, but he stops himself short. “Will this bother you? If I keep it low?”

You shake your head, tapping your eraser on the desk. He gives you a frantic thumbs up before trying to make sure the music doesn’t murder your hearing. 

It’s on some rock station, where some of the songs are ones you’re familiar with, others not so much.

“Good?” he asks, and you return his earlier thumbs up. It makes him grin.

He settles back on his mattress, though it groans in protest as he does. He scratches away at a notebook for a while, and the room stays quiet. Just being in the same room as him is enough to keep you calm and give you time to focus.

You make more progress on the paper now then you had at home, and start to think maybe you should do all your work in Eddie’s company.

Eventually Eddie gets bored and pushes up, his hands coming to rest against the desk on either side of you, caging you in. He kisses the top of your head before resting his chin on it, peering down at your paper.

“Damn. Almost done?”

“Yeah. Should probably quit and come back to it later anyway.” 

“Wanna see something fun?” You look up at him and he’s got a wild look in his eyes, a wide smile on his face. 

“I don’t know if I trust that.”

“Oh, come on. Take a break. For me?” Eddie bats his eyelashes and you smack him on the arm. He stands and stumbles backwards as if you’ve brutally wounded him, though the smile stays and really ruins the act. 

“Fine. Let’s see.”

He’s got this brilliant, boyish look on his face. You can tell he’s excited. It’s the kind of excitement that rubs off on you, that makes you anxious to know what it’s for, even if it is something small. 

He moves to the corner of his room and opens this big chest that you might not have even noticed because of how much surrounds it. You realize, though, that there’s a handful of Dungeons and Dragons handbooks, a binder covered in stickers, other things you don’t entirely understand.

Eddie digs around for a second, and then he pulls out a little velvet bag. He brandishes it to you, shaking it a little. Whatever’s inside makes noise.

“I got new dice. And I know what you’re thinking, ‘Eddie that’s so amazing, I can’t believe you’d share this with me,’ but believe it, because they’re cool, okay? Prepare yourself.”

You take a dramatically over exaggerated deep breath, gearing yourself up. “Ready, Eddie.”

He snorts. He can’t believe you. 

He dumps them out next to you on his bed. “Ta-da!”

You pick one up, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t squeal. The dice are a translucent red color, with black numbers, and they’ve got little bats set into them. 

Fucking bats. 

You look up and Eddie’s big brown eyes are shining down at you. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, clearly trying to contain himself.

“Eddie, these are so cool!”

He throws himself on the bed beside you. “They’re sick, right?” 

You pick up a handful, looking at all of the different ones as they roll around between your fingers. “Yeah. These are fucking cool, dude.”

Eddie giggles. He giggles. His glee is palpable. 

“I’m honored that you wanted to share this with me, Mr. Munson.”

“Of course, of course,” he says, scooping them up and putting them back in the bag. “I don’t just go showing my dice to anyone, you know.”

You laugh, hard, and it’s the first time Eddie’s heard you laugh like that. He thinks he could live off of the sound. He wouldn’t need anything else. 

“Well I’m glad you showed them to me.”

Eddie winks at you. “Me too.”

————

Eddie doesn’t hear from you for a few days, but it doesn’t worry him really. He knows you're busy with school, and he is too, now that he’s trying to get the hell out of there for real this time. He’s also working on a big ass campaign. He thinks this might be the one where Dustin’s character finally dies, the little fucker. He’s managed to kill off everyone else’s characters at least once (Gareth a few more), but never Dustin.

He does miss you, though.

Eddie is finding that he doesn’t like being without you as much as he likes being with you. 

He’s starting to show you parts of himself that he hasn’t shown other people before. He usually doesn’t have the ability to sit quietly in a room with someone else. Or watch for fucking bats. Hell, he built a fort for you. 

And he’s laying in bed, well past the time he should be asleep, thinking about how he doesn’t feel like you’re letting him get to know you like he is you. 

Eddie’s room is dark except for the light coming in through the window. He goes to rest his hand on his chest, but cold metal meets his bare skin and he’s quick to unsnap the bracelet he left on his wrist. 

He knows what you’re in school for. He knows you’re into bats. That you laugh at stupid, immature shit just like he does. Shit you’d get in trouble for laughing at. 

But if what he’s feeling, deep down, is what he thinks it is, he wants to give all of himself to you. And he wants all of you. 

He really does. 

And something about the way you held him that night that you stayed over told him you felt more. He can see you letting go sometimes. But more often it feels reluctant. 

Eddie just wants you to know that he’s not going anywhere. That he wants you safe. Happy.

He wants you for you.

Not for whatever else anyone tells you.

You are everything he’s ever wanted.

You.

————

“How’d you do on your paper?” Eddie asks. You’d told him when it was due, and just now that you’d gotten it back.

“Fine.”

“Fine? That’s all I get?”

Something’s wrong with you today. He’d invited you over for lunch, and you’d come, but the smile you gave him at the door wasn’t genuine. Something is hurting you, and you haven’t told him what. 

And it’s killing him.

He can’t help you if you won’t let him. 

You set down your drink, a little harder than you’d meant to, and sigh. 

Fuck, Eddie thinks. The last thing he wants to do is frustrate you. 

“I got a B.”

His eyebrows raise over the enormous bite of sandwich he’s just taken. He decides to behave and chew it all before he speaks. Wayne might not get the same treatment.

“Oh yeah? That’s so good! I’m proud of you.”

You nod your head, but you don’t look at him. If he’s being honest, it kind of hurts his feelings.

“You might be the only one,” you mumble. 

“What do you mean?”

“It’s…it’s nothing, Eddie. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

He grabs the bag of chips out of your hand before you can shove your mouth full of them, and you look incredibly offended. 

“Don’t do that. Tell me what you meant.” Eddie’s voice is serious. He’s never spoken to you like this before. 

You run your hands over your face. “My mom. She told me I could’ve done better than that.” You don’t say that she also said it was probably a result of spending so much time with Eddie. 

Eddie sets your bag of chips back down. “That’s bullshit. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“You’re a total badass, and I know you’re hard working as shit. If she can’t see that, then fuck her man.” 

You won’t look at him. 

You won’t look at him. 

“You can’t listen to that shit, man. I hate seeing you like this.”

“I didn’t want you to see me like this, Eddie.” He cocks his head at you, brown eyes boring into yours. “And it’s not exactly easy, just ignoring it. I’ve heard it for years, that I could be trying harder or doing something differently or anything, so it’s like fuckin’ ingrained in my brain. And sometimes I think it’s true.”

Eddie reaches across the table for your hand, his laying palm-up, waiting for you to accept it. You limply supply your hand to him, and he pushes his thumb into the center, rubbing in slow circles. He’s hoping the contact might be enough to pull you out of your head some. 

“Look at me,” Eddie says. 

You're quick to think about the night he found you moping on the bench. He’d said that then too. 

“Look at me.”

You shake your head again. 

“It’s okay. I’m not going to make fun of you,” he says, and you believe him, though really looking at him and his big brown eyes is enough to wash a surge of sadness over you. 

Eddie uses his thumb to wipe the fresh tears from under your lashes, grazing the tip of your now stuffy nose with his knuckle. You wrinkle it and he grins. 

Eddie’s thinking about it too. How upset you’d looked. How upset you look now. But he also remembers something else. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Not really, no.”

You hadn’t wanted to talk about your feelings then, and that was understandable because you hadn’t seen the guy in forever. But it’s different now. Isn’t it? Eddie feels differently for you. And he can see that you care about him, obviously, but what if he’s reading this wrong? What if you don’t want him as anything other than a friend?

This time though, you do look up at him. “It’s not true. I know your brain is telling you that, and maybe you even hear your parents saying that shit, and if your mind works anything like mine does–and I think it does–then I know it’s so fucking annoying, and you can’t do anything without hearing some negative response.”

“But it isn’t true. You work your ass off, and you’re kind and caring, and I’m sorry, but I can’t have you thinking otherwise, you hear me?”

You nod your head, and Eddie’s quick to swipe up the tear he sees fall, before you even know you’re crying. 

He gets up, coming over to where you're sitting and crouching in front of you. He puts his hands on your knees, but you push them off and stand, forcing him to follow so that he doesn’t bust his ass. 

You wipe your face off, drag your hands across your jeans, the feeling of Eddie’s hand on yours still burning through your nerves. 

“Eddie, I think I’m gonna go home.”

Something about this, about the tone in your voice, how resigned you sound, makes Eddie frustrated. 

He doesn’t move from his place in front of you. He can’t just let this go. He isn’t wired that way. 

“So this is how it’s gonna go, huh?”

You blink at him. “What are you talking about?”

He puts his hands on his hips, and he knows he looks like Wayne, he knows it, but he can’t find it in himself to care right now. 

“You come over, you’re upset, but you won’t talk to me about it, and when you do start to talk about it, you give me vague answers and you shrug it off. That’s not talking, Y/N.”

“This is hard for me, Eddie! I don’t know what to do with myself when someone wants to listen to me, okay?”

“I understand that, but you’ve gotta at least try.”

“Try what?”

“Letting me in, for fucks sake! I can’t fucking help you, if you won’t let me in!”

Eddie sounds exasperated. And now you’re both shouting at each other. Shouting.

“Eddie, I–”

“Listen, just give me a second. You wouldn’t talk about what happened that night you stayed over except vaguely–and that’s okay with me–but then you wouldn't talk to me the other day, either. And now you’re just…I feel like you’re shutting me out.”

“I want to help you, and I know it takes time to open up, but I know that you know you’re safe with me. And I want to help make it better. I want you, Y/N, and I just–why won’t you let me in?”

It feels like your heart has stopped. Like he’s messing with you. But you know better than that. And you should’ve known that was coming at some point. 

“Eddie, don’t say that.”

“Say what?” He wants to hear the words leave your mouth. 

You mess with your fingers, and he grabs your hands to get you to quit. “That you want me, Eddie. You can’t just say that.”

“And why can’t I, huh? Because it involves feelings? Y’know those things that you won’t share with me?”

You step a little ways back from him, but you’re still cornered. He knows that stung, but if he hadn’t said it now, he might never have at all. 

“Eddie, you can’t actually want me. You’ve said it yourself, I’m incapable of being open and not fucking things up! Look at what we’re doing!”

“And what if I do want you? What then?”

“Then I don’t know!” you yell, louder than you’d intended. 

Eddie moves away from you then, sitting back down, and crossing his arms. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you, despite the fact that you’re arguing. 

“I never said you were fucking things up. And I didn’t say you were incapable of being open,” he breathes. “That’s all I want, for you to be open with me. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me, like you have to let that shit eat you alive.”

“But aren’t I? Fucking it up? Eddie, you’re the only friend I’ve got and you’re being honest with me and all I’ve done is fuss at you. That’s like, the definition of fucking things up.”

“You’re not. I just want you to let me in.”

You’re both quiet for a minute. You walk around the trailer, cleaning up your lunch and grabbing your things. It’s mindless, and you’re not even sure you want to go home. 

“I meant what I said,” Eddie starts. “I do want you. And I mean as more than just a friend. I’m—” I’m falling in love with you. But he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t say that he wishes he’d said so sooner. That he’d told you in high school. None of that matters now. He wants you, and he thinks he always will. 

“I would never lie to you about that,” he says. 

You take a shaky breath. “I know that you wouldn’t, Eddie. I just…I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me. You do know.”

“I think maybe you should want someone who’s not so much trouble.”

And Eddie can’t say anything, because you’ve already turned and rushed down the stairs, the door slamming shut behind you. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @ajkamins @golddustwitches @copycatkillerfics @prestinalove @zaypay @clovermunson @kelsiegrin @storiesbyrhi @avalon-wolf

#savannah’s fics #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson series

[theloveinc]

bakugo x reader - i guess a lil drabble related to my succession!au here! caitie writing? it's more........ no jk im just as surprised as you...

(warning - toxic relationships, sex as business tactic, you wear a thong but gn otherwise i think, made up business lingo idfk)

-

You’re already waiting for him by the time Bakugo makes it back to his office. 

Blazer off and strewn across the arm of the leather armchair you lean against, fingernails clacking away as you type a message on your phone; you look busy, you look sexy, you look mad, though he already knows why you’re here and you waste no time either in looking up from your device to absolutely scour. 

 “Fuckin' what?” he grumbles, throwing his own jacket and stack of files next to yours, refusing to give in to the thought of looking into your eyes, something he knows will cause more of a fire to light up in his veins rather than put him into a business-like mood.

“You said no.” 

“‘Course I did," he responds before you can say anything else. "Your write-up was crap, and I don’t feel like wasting time entertaining unnecessary shit.” 

“It’s a good plan. Would make up the public outburst you had that tanked our stock fifteen percent. You and I both know that.” 

He does, but he doesn't care enough to risk another move that might cause more harm than good. It's not like his sour personality is a secret from the business world or has stopped him from getting what he wanted in the past.

“If you care so much about it just go ‘n get Deku to approve it. Fuck knows all you do when I disagree with your stupid ass ideas is cry and get him to start signing shit, anyway."

“That is not true!” you hiss, one of Bakugo’s very-clearly-plucked eyebrows immediately raising at the annoyance in your voice. “My advice is great, and yeah, I do think you should take it sometimes.”

“It’s average at best and you fucking know it"—it's actually better than average, way better, it's just hard to say now that Deku's got top spot in the running for CEO, a fact that pisses Bakugo off so badly that he can't even think about your talent lest he lose his mind even more—"You’re just one of the board's little brats. Spoiled rotten.” 

You purse your lips at that, eyes narrowing as he stands up tall. “Like you’re any better. Getting mommy to call competitors anytime one of your shitty deals doesn’t go through.”

He approaches you, hands leaving his pockets as he walks you back into his desk—your ass meeting the oak just as he begins unlocking his cuff links and pushing his sleeves up to the bend of his elbows. You stand there in silence, in faux-battle through your glares, though it’s not much longer before he puts his hands on your waist and jerks you to his chest. 

“Least I do my damn job instead of sucking dick on company time.”

(You don’t remind him that it was actually him on his knees the last time any inappropriate workplace intercourse occurred… nor that it was Kiri’s idea—not yours—to screw your way into Yo Shindo’s board of investors. He already started a fight the first time it came up, lord knows he’d have an aneurysm if used it against him in an argument, too.) 

“Fine,” you wiggle your hips in an attempt to loosen the static between your bodies, but he only seems to get closer: the newly-tenting fly of his slacks digging into the soft dip of your own pants, instead. “Next time I’ll go ask Todoroki for advice then and you can work alone.”

He nips at you where his mouth presses against your cheek, hands splayed on your back to keep you from being pressed into the hard line of wood at your hips. You inhale at the contact, turning your face away from him if only to let his mouth fall next to your ear. 

“Talk to that half and half fucker in front of me, baby,” he whispers, “and you watch what fucking happens.” 

His fingers dip themselves into the band of your panties, tugging the elastic away from your skin in such a manner that the string of your thong gets pulled taut between your ass cheeks. 

“Bakugo…” you warn, pulling back to glare at him though simultaneously giving into the fight, your hands leaving your hips to swat his away from behind you before they’re allowed to do anything more lewd.

He huffs, though his chest rumbles in the most silent of laughs as he catches your palms in his, swinging them back around til he’s holding them between you at your front. 

“You’re such a damn tease,” he leans down close enough to touch his nose with yours, your breath warm and enticing on his lips. “Gimme a kiss for wasting my time.”

You roll your eyes. “No. I’m reporting you to HR.” 

“Like hell you are. Kiss me.” 

 “I’m gonna kiss Deku.” 

Hands still tangled with yours, he tears away for only a moment to fake a gag over his shoulder. 

“That’s even worse!”

"You deserve it."

And he doesn't exactly disagree.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo #ooga booga sfjailsdhflafhu iwiehfkjhdhfj adje *monkey noises* *banging on my cage* #the beginning is bad sorry i just hhad to add it to get to the dialogue #it made me want to switch directions to angsty but i already had everything written #anyway #caitie post #caitie things #gen #succession au

[marvelwitchergilmore]

To Shitty Days and Shitty Families

Summary: Javier Peña x Fe!Reader - Your parents come to Columbia to visit you at work only they seem to be more interested in your personal life than they do your work. 

Disclaimer: Shitty families, patriarchy I suppose. Swearing, angst, ideology that women are only fit for marriage- reader argues against this point. Reader stands up for herself, Javi talks with her folks when she leaves. 

You had been dreading it all day since first listening to your answering machine that morning. And everyone could see it in you. Steve had taken one look at you as he stood outside the complex kissing goodbye to Connie and knew something was wrong. 

“You look like someone just shot you.” Connie added. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I-I’ll see you at work.”

By the time you pulled up to work, you spent half of the day bouncing your leg under the desk as you tried your best to fill out the usual paperwork and the only time you said what was going on, out loud, was when you were stood on the steps of the Embassy with Peña as he smoked his cigarettes. Despite you having a habit of removing them from him, he still continued to smoke. 

“Who are you looking for? You look like Steve when he goes duck hunting.”

“My parents are coming.”

“To the Embassy.”

“The Embassy, Columbia. Here. Wherever.”

“And you’re worried because…”

“Because they haven’t talked to me in almost three years and now are coming to Columbia.”

“That’s nice.”

“No. No it’s not.”

Peña nodded. “Okay.”

“If you see a cab pull up, shout for me, okay?”

“Sure.” Peña could see the worry in your eyes as you searched the parking lot once more before turning around and heading back inside. 

Only, Peña wasn’t outside when they turned up. So, instead, they walked inside, found your desk and stood there, examining the mess and tutting. 

“She could never keep anything tidy. Always messy. Always the family mess.”

“Can I help you?” Steve asked as he approached. 

Somehow, from the time it took you walking from the evidence room after hearing the familiar click of heels to reaching your desk, your mother had already seemed to have painted herself a saint to Murphy and Peña. 

“Where is she anyway? You know, she could never keep time in high school, either. Always marked late.”

Both Peña and Murphy highly doubted that since you were always early - to everything. Hell, you’d get into work an hour earlier than them. But, they decided not to question your mother who already seemed distracted in scanning your entire body with her eyes making you suddenly aware of your skin and one of the many reasons why you were glad you left the states. 

Your mother awkwardly moved in to hug you, making the whole thing a clear spectacle for onlookers. “You’ve gotten thicker, dear.”

“Mom.”

“Oh, just a jest, dear. Just a jest.” your mother laughed. “I’ve just met your bosses.”

“They’re not my bosses, mom. They’re my partners.”

“Oh.” That seemed to be the first shock to your mom. “Well, they’re handsome all the same and since you all seem to be friends, I’ve invited them to dinner with us tonight. And you’ll be bringing your wife, no doubt Agent Murphy?”

Steve nodded, though the look from you made him question if he should have said yes. 

“Wouldn’t miss meeting your parents for the world, Agent.” Steve smiled at you. 

“I’ve left you a note on your desk on where to meet us. If you can find it amongst this mess. And 7 o’clock sharp, dear. I know what you’re like for time keeping. It was nice to meet you boys. See you all soon.”

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole and take you to Hell now.

Far too soon for your liking, 7 o’clock rolled around. 

Murphy and Connie were already there with your parents, sat in the very back of the restaurant, glasses of wine just poured. Peña must have only just arrived as he was still standing and seemed a little out of breath as he made his way round, kissing your mother’s cheek, Connie’s and shaking your father’s hand whilst he shook Steve’s shoulder. 

“Late again, I see.” your mother said as you finally reached the table. 

“By two minutes, mom. I had to find parking.”

“Never mind, you’re here now, finally.” Your mom seemed to stress the word ‘finally’ before turning to Steve and Connie. “Shall we order? I know it takes my daughter a while to choose what she wants. She’s always been like that with her life.”

You tried your best to keep your breathing steady. “Mom.”

“What?” your mother laughed. “Oh, I’m just joking, honey. You know that.”

You looked to your napkin covered plate, trying to subtly take in deep breaths. “You okay?” 

You looked to your left as leaned into Peña who, for the first time in a while, seemed…concerned. You faked a smile as best as you could. “I’m fine.”

“So, Peña.”

“Javi, please.”

“Javi.” your mother smiled. “You’re working with Steve to catch Escobar? Oh, that must be so dangerous. But, I’m sure someone like yourself is able to handle it.”

“He works with me, too, mom.” you pointed out only, she seemed to ignore that. 

Javi looked at you for a quick moment before turning back to your mother. “It’s dangerous for anyone being an American in Columbia.”

From across the table, Connie shot you a look which, in total honesty, you didn’t fully know if you returned it. All you wanted to do was get over this meal and go home. 

“I am famished.” Connie announced. “What are we all eating?” she scanned her eyes over the menu and you tried your best to thank her telepathically across the table. 

“Well, I’m sure my daughter is still deciding.”

“Actually, I know what I want, mom.”

“Oh, well…that’s a change.”

By the time the waiter came around and took your order, your mother trying to order and loudly shouting Spanish in a very clear American accent, you were ready to leave. 

You gave your order, your voice at a normal decibel, your Spanish rolling off the tongue, your mother looked to you slowly. “No need to show off, dear.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Darling, just because your mother doesn’t have the best Spanish, doesn’t mean you should make her look stupid.”

“What? I-”

Before you could even think about finishing your sentence, your mother turned to Connie. “Constance, dear.”

“Please, call me Connie.”

“Of course, honey.” your mother smiled. “Tell me, what is married life like? I remember when I married my dear, dear husband. Oh, I was so happy.”

Your mother continued to ramble about her wedding day - a story you had heard every day of your life before you left to join the DEA in Columbia. Meanwhile, you took a large gulp of your wine trying to convince yourself it was whiskey from Peña’s desk drawer and instead of being sat in a candle-lit restaurant, you were back at your desk, drowning in work files all the while the alcohol burned your throat. 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you whispered under your breath and in return you felt Peña’s hand lay itself on your thigh. 

“Just give me a signal and I’ll get us all out of here. I think Steve is about to throw himself out of the door.”

“I wouldn’t blame him.”

Peña smiled at you before turning back to the rest of the table where you found your mother still talking. 

“Oh, and when my Rosie got married? Oh, that was the happiest day of my life!”

“Thanks, mom.”

“Oh, dear, you know what I mean.”

“It’s not kind to poke fun at your mother, darling.” your father added. 

“But it was. It was the happiest day of my life seeing my darling daughter get married and have a good, strapping man on her arm.”

“There’s more to life than just getting married, mom.” This has been your argument your entire life. Your mother always wanted you to get married and the day you said you were leaving for Columbia instead of announcing your engagement to your now ex-boyfriend…that was a long day. 

“Don’t argue with your mother, darling.”

You took another deep breath and another gulp of wine. 

“Don’t drink too much, dear. We wouldn’t want you to embarrass the family anymore.”

It was still your first glass. And it, somehow, miraculously, remained half full. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, look, here comes the food.” Connie announced as the waiter approached. 

Thankfully, this deterred the conversation for fifteen minutes whilst the waiter handed the correct dishes to each person. Your mother thanked them rather loudly once more. 

“Mom, they’re not deaf. You don’t have to yell.”

Your father called your name. “Don’t be rude to your mother.” he scolded. 

“Oh, no, dear. Don’t worry. She’s just on one tonight.” your mother replied before sitting back down and looking at your plate in disgust. “Are you really going to eat all of that?”

It was a normal sized bowl with chicken soup and bread. Except, the way your mother spoke to you made it sound as if the bowl was a sharing size and was filled with nothing but crap. 

“You know, I could have ordered for you.”

“I don’t want salad, mother.”

“Well, forgive me for trying to look out for the well-being of my child.”

“Why don’t you just focus on yourself and Rosie and I’ll be completely fine.”

It was now that your mother looked to Connie, Steve and Javi. “I am so sorry about her. She gets like this sometimes. I told her, if she married the man she had, she wouldn’t be this uptight and worried.”

“I didn’t want to marry Daniel, mom. You know that.”

“I understand you like to rebel against me and make me out as the bad guy, y/n. But, one day, you will realise I’m just doing what is best for you.”

“Best for me or best for you, mom?”

“Now, what exactly are you excusing me for, dear?”

“Darling, don’t pick a fight here. I understand you like to make a scene but-”

“Make a scene?”

“She was always dramatic as a kid,” your mother explained to the rest of the table. 

“Mom, please don’t talk about me as if I’m not here.”

“See,” your mother tried to point out. “Even at Rosie’s wedding, she tried to stop it.”

“Because she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get married!” you raised your voice a little. 

“But she did! And now she had two beautiful little children and a wonderful home and a caring husband. Don’t shout at me just because you wanted her life. Because you could have had it.”

“You think I want her life? Sat at home looking after two children whilst her husband flies from state to state and barely knows his own children?”

“Maybe we should-” Connie went to stand but your mother put her hand out to her. 

“No, dear, please, sit down.” your mother smiled. “She’s just annoyed that her life isn’t how she thought it would be.”

“I didn’t want to marry him, mom.” you repeated. “Can you hear me?”

“Just eat your soup, dear.” your mother scolded. “There is no need to embarrass me any further.”

“Your mother is right, darling. Why don’t you eat your soup? If you're not happy with it, your mother will happily order you a salad.”

“I said I didn’t want a salad.”

“Remember dear, a moment on the lips, forever on the hips.” one of your mother’s favourite quotes. “And from here I can already see some of the fat building. You know you’ll never get a husband looking like that or doing what you do.”

“I don’t want a husband!” you yelled. “I didn’t want to marry Danny or stay in America. You! You wanted me married off so you could brag to your friends that your daughters got married before Carrie’s. You’d rather have me marry someone I never loved, someone who would rather sleep with every woman on legs in the whole fucking city, including the darling daughters of your friends, than have me join the police academy and come to Columbia.”

“Dear, lower your voice. People are staring!” your mother scolded through gritted teeth. 

“I did something with my life, mom.” you pointed out. “Any parent would be proud if they’re kid was happy. But no, not you. You’d only be happy if I lived by your rules and followed your footsteps to a life of complete fucking boredom.”

“You should watch your mouth, young lady.” your mother warned. “No one wants a woman who has a mouth like you.”

All you could do was let out a laugh whilst holding back your anger as best as you could. “You know what, mom. I-I can’t do this. Just…just go home. Tell Rosie I’m alive or tell her nothing. I wouldn’t want to be an embarrassment to you anymore than I already have. Sorry, guys.”

You apologised quickly to your teammates before you threw your napkin onto the table and grabbed your jacket. You laid a couple bills on the table before walking away. The waiter must have watched the whole thing because, as you made your way to the exit, he gave you a bittersweet smile. 

“I’ll wrap your food up and have Popsy send it over.”

“That’s alright,” you replied. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

With that, you left the restaurant and headed to your car before driving away.  Meanwhile, back at the table, Steve, Connie and Javi all sat in shock. You never revealed much about your family but whatever they had just witnessed was the last thing they thought they’d ever expect. Even as it happened, none of them could comprehend it. 

“On that note, we’re going to take off.” Steve announced standing up before asking the waiter if they could have the rest of their food packed to-go. However, Javi remained seated. Connie leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before Steve shook his hand and they both left with the brown bag in their hand. 

“I’m-”

“You should be proud of her, you know.” Javi said before confirming your name so they knew 100% completely who he was talking about. “Before she came down here, we weren’t really getting anywhere. But within days of her arrival, she had most of that place in order. We caught plenty of people and stopped a £3 billion worth shipment of coke from getting into the states because of her.”

“She gets that from me.” your mother said, but Javi just…smiled. 

“Maybe. But I highly doubt it.” your mother’s face dropped and your father was about to argue back, but Javi cut him short. “Who she is…that can’t be taught. That’s learned, from first hand experience. Sure, she’s not married, but she is respected. But a shit ton of people. Hell, if she tells the Ambassador not to do something, they listen to her. Because she’s good at her job. Just because she’s not you, does not give you the right to see her as nothing more than a problem to be solved or an embarrassment. She’s not lucky to have you two as parents, but you are lucky to have her. To be able to call her and talk to her and know her. Don’t take her for granted because sooner or later, you won’t even have the privilege of calling her your daughter.”

“Are you threatening us, son?”

“No.” Javi shook his head, standing. “I’m saying if I was her, I would have dropped you years ago. Instead, you get to call her your daughter. But I doubt even now that you have that opportunity. Like she said, there’s more to life than getting married. And she’s living proof of that. Don’t ignore her like I expect you have been doing her whole life, just because she’s not the living poster girl of your planned out life.”

With that, Javi laid his own share of the bill on the table before walking outside, lighting a cigarette and walking to his car. He doubted you would have gone home in case your mother came looking for you to yell at you some more. And he was right in his thinking because, as he did a tour of the Embassy parking lot, he found your car parked alone. He parked a couple spots down from you before squashing the smoke under his shoe and walking inside. From there, he found you sat at your desk no longer dressed in the dinner dress but rather a pair of black trousers and a black shirt. So, you’d been at the gun range. He could see the oiled cuticles of your fingers as you reached for your disposable coffee cup. The hair that had rested in soft curls was now thrown up into a messy ponytail that held itself up under the command of your bobble. 

What he guessed was that through stress, some of the hairs had fallen from your head and haphazardly framed your face under the orange light of your desk lamp. 

On your desk, he could see the soft trail of smoke from a cigarette. You weren’t a smoker. Hell, you’d pulled enough cigarettes, both lit and unlit, from his own lips before to stop him from smoking. So, when you didn’t do it that morning as he stood beside you on the steps of the Embassy, that should have been his first warning about how bad the day would go. 

Though he couldn’t blame you. If he were you, he probably would have gone through 2 packs of cigarettes by now. 

He watched you as you took a long drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke fill your lungs until they were over spilling. Even then, you took in some more air as you moved it away from your lips, letting it rest lazily between your two fingers as you rested the rest of your head against your hand. 

Slowly, you let the smoke release itself from your lungs before you took another deep breath of fresh air this time, and opened your eyes. 

“Don’t judge me.” you told Javi when you spotted him standing at the steps of the office. But, he just smiled and walked closer, going first to his desk, before bringing his bottle of whiskey and two glasses with him to your desk. 

“Oh, no judgement here.” Javi told you before sitting down across from you and pouring a decent amount of liquor into each glass. 

Handing you one, you thanked him. “To shitty days.”

“And shitty families.” you laughed before clinking the glass together and taking a rather large gulp and letting it burn your insides as it made its way down. 

Javi sat back in silence for a few moments watching you. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know.” you answered honestly. “Part of me wants to scream, the other wants to cry and the rest…just is thankful it’s over.”

“Have they always been like that?”

“My whole life.” you said. “Rosie was their perfect little girl. Always listened. Did everything without question. Danced perfect ballet at her recitals. Would always sing beautifully and could quote Shakespeare off the cuff.”

Javi furrowed his brows. “I’ve heard you speak Shakespeare. English and Spanish. You put the local production to shame.”

You narrowed your eyes a little, “Not as well as Rosie.”. 

Taking another drink, you mirrored Javi by leaning back in your own chair. “God, I remember being so jealous of her as a kid. She was always the teacher’s favourite. She could never put a foot wrong. I’d make one spelling mistake in my English essay in 5th grade and they called in my parents telling them I was distracted. That I was slipping from my education. My mother grounded me for a month and gave me a lecture every day about how Rosie was this perfect child and why couldn’t I be the same? You know, I never got into trouble at school. I got good grades, I listened to all of my teachers, I even won the local baking competition.”

“You bake?”

You smiled. “I bake. I entered it without my mom’s permission and got my teacher to sign off on it. But, God, you should have seen the look on all the parent’s faces. “She only won because they feel sorry for her.”, and then the kids started saying the same thing to me at school. The only time where I wasn’t compared to my sister was in the Academy. It was the first time I felt I belonged somewhere.”

You took another deep breath, “Jesus, you don’t want to hear about this.”

But Javi shook his head. “No. Continue.”

You looked in his eyes for a moment, seeing if he was being serious. And, once you realised he was, you slowly sat back again and continued. 

“So, you joined the academy?” Javi asked, helping you pick up where you left off. 

You nodded a small thanks and continued. “I joined the Academy and,” you laughed a little, “when my mom found out, she went ballistic. God, it was like I shot her puppy. Or Rosie, godforbid. So you can imagine, when I turned up one afternoon and told her I was moving to Columbia instead of going house hunting with Danny, - who I had broken up with, by the way, six months earlier - you can imagine how she took it. Said I was just jealous and running away because my sister was getting married. That I just wanted the spotlight for myself but the biggest thing was…I didn’t. I just wanted to disappear. I didn’t want people’s eyes on me or have a spotlight on my name. Any time it was, it was always because I was a disgrace to the family name. That I wasn’t Rosie. But…on her wedding day, I realised….I realised I wasn’t jealous of her. In fact, when she came and found me and asked me if she was doing the right thing…I felt sorry for her. But that didn’t last long because at the drop of a hat, when I said she didn’t have to marry him, that she could come with me or I could get her a plane ticket to wherever she wanted, she accused me of wanting to ruin her wedding and her life. That I was jealous of her because I couldn’t find someone to love me the way her husband does her. And, that mom was right. That I would never find anyone because what person in their right mind would want to love someone like me.”

There was other stuff that you didn’t mention to Javi, about what else your sister had said and what your mother clearly agreed with. But, after the meal tonight, he could take a pretty good guess. 

“So, what did you do?”

You took a breath, forcing the tears back into your eyes. “I did what she asked for that day. I sat out of the wedding. Sat at the back. Stayed out of everyone’s way to avoid ruining her wedding. And halfway through the reception, I left. I didn’t even say goodbye. I thought about it, but I knew they wouldn’t have cared. They were in their own happy little world that didn’t need or even want me. So, I grabbed my bags, hailed a cab and got on the first flight into Columbia.”

“So, when you landed-”

“2 hours later, I was here starting work.” you confirmed. 

“Did anyone know?”

“No.” you said, sitting back up and laying your glass on your desk. “Until a couple hours ago, no-one knew what my parents were like. I’m just…I’ll be glad when they’re back in the states. They didn’t even tell me they were coming and I woke up at 4 on the dot. I didn’t know why. I never usually do and then, an hour later, she left a message on my machine saying she was getting on her second flight and that she’s already arranged to have a cab pick her up from the airport since she knows that I’d probably still be in bed - the last time I was in bed past 8 o’clock I was on a flight to Miami.”

After a while of talking with Peña as he asked you questions about your childhood, he looked at the clock that read a quarter to midnight. “Come on, we better go home.”

“Javier Peña, in bed before 2 am? Is the world truly falling apart?”

Javi smiled at you, grabbing your jacket for you. “Come on, I’ll drive us home.”

“But you’ve had a drink-”

“I’m still under the limit.” Javi assured you. “Come on, let's go.”

By the time Javi pulled up outside of your apartment block, he locked his car behind him before you both went off in separate directions to your own apartments. 

“Peña?”

He looked back from his door. 

“Thank you, for today. It meant a lot, seriously.”

Javi smiled at you before unlocking his door and opening it up. “Anything for you, hermosa. Goodnight.”

“Night,” you smiled back before entering your own home and closing the door behind you. 

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena angst #javier peña #javier peña narcos #javier pena oneshot #angst #little fluff #shitty families #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #javier pena x fe!reader #dea #narcos #netflix #netflix narcos #pedro pascal characters masterlist #established relationships #agents #found family? #javier pena x y/n #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #pena x you #agent pena #steve murphy #steve and connie #javi #javi pena

[taey0ngsvape]

late nights w jeno (ft. best friends!dreamies)

loosely inspired by seeing one of my friends i haven't seen in a while and deciding to get fast food at eleven p.m

contains: food, best friend dreamies, boyfriend jeno, the l word, platonic love!!!

“Dude you’re literally so bad at this,” you say as Mark’s character in Valorant lies defeated on the screen. 

“Do you wanna play?” he asks (threatens more like). You only laugh. 

“Nah, it’s more fun watching you lose.”

Your head is lying in Jeno’s lap as you watch Mark play. Jaemin, Chenle, and Haechan are sitting on the floor and Renjun is on the other end of the couch along with Jisung. 

“Blazin" by Koffee is playing from Mark’s speakers and his lights are turned to a soft purple. Everything about the atmosphere in the room brings you a sense of calm filled with contentment. There’s nothing better than this—time with the people you love most. 

Mark finishes the match (his team loses, to no one’s surprise) and pushes himself away from the desk, stretching out in the chair. 

“Is anyone else hungry?” he asks. 

Words of agreement are murmured throughout the room. You sit up, much to Jeno’s disappointment. 

“It’s 11:30, what’s even open right now?” Jaemin asks. 

“We could go to Swenson’s,” you suggest. “They’re open until 1 I think.”

“Swenson’s?” Renjun raises an eyebrow. 

“The true American experience,” you say with a sigh. “It’s just fast food but at least it isn’t McDonalds. Plus, they bring your food out to the car so I don’t have to put on shoes.” You smile down at the socks you’re wearing, dark green with little alligators on them. 

“I’m down,” Mark says. 

“Me too,” Jeno agrees. 

You grin. “Swenson’s it is.”

“I’m not gonna lie,” you say as you all walk out to Mark’s car. “When I got home from work I went, whose piece of shit car is parked in front of my house?”

Mark laughs, as he looks at the car. 

He was borrowing it, and it was old and beat up and generally just, well, shitty. 

You knew Jeno was coming over, but the rest of the guys decided to surprise you, which was wonderful. Everyone was busy nowadays and it had been months since you were all together. 

You were grateful the car had two rows of backseats so you all didn’t have to squeeze in. You take the middle seat behind Mark, with Jeno on one side and Haechan on the other. Jaemin sits shotgun and attempts to commandeer the radio but ultimately fails. 

The drive to Swenson’s is a short one, but Mark rolls the windows down and turns the music up anyway. Moments like these carry a certain kind of magic that you haven’t found anywhere else. Something about the rareness of them makes them feel more special. You close your eyes and commit the feeling to memory so you can look back on this moment when the boys aren’t around. 

You open your eyes and look around at them. Mark and Jaemin are bickering over the song playing and behind you, Renjun, Chenle, and Jisung are talking about going to the beach soon. Haechan is quietly singing next to you and Jeno… Jeno is looking at you with such fondness it makes your heart race. 

Suddenly you feel overwhelmed with love for all of them. They all treated you like a best friend, like you’d been with them from the beginning. At first you’d been scared they’d only ever see you as Jeno’s girlfriend, but they never made you feel that way. When you were with them you belonged. 

You lean your head to rest on Jeno’s shoulder and he slips his arm around your shoulders. “I love you guys,” you say. 

“What?” Mark asks and you laugh. Between the wind and the music you doubt any of them heard you. 

“I love you guys!” you shout. Next to you, Haechan smiles. 

“We love you too!”

At Swenson’s, Mark offers to pay (which is a decision he’ll definitely regret later) so the boys all order as much food as they want. It takes the poor employee two trips to get everything out to the car and Mark leaves a hefty tip for making them deliver such a large order late at night. 

“We should go to the beach to eat,” Renjun suggests, so Mark pulls out of the parking lot and gets on the highway. 

The drive to the beach is not as quick and they close the windows this time, but it allows the group of you to talk. 

The conversation is comfortable and full of laughter. Jeno holds you close to him the whole time and when he laughs you can feel the vibrations. 

When you finally make it to the beach, Mark chooses a parking spot down by the shore, turning off the car. The guys split the bags of food among them so that no one is carrying too much. You grab a large picnic blanket from the trunk and Jeno insists on carrying you because you’re still not wearing shoes. 

Once the blanket is spread across the sand, you all settle down and hand out the food that’s thankfully still warm. 

The milkshake you ordered is sweet and cold, perfect for a summer night. As it gets later, the conversations get deeper and you reminisce on when you all met for the first time. 

You lie back down in Jeno’s lap and look up at the stars, trying to name the constellations that you remember from the astronomy course you took back in high school as an elective. 

“You know, I never really thanked you guys for being so welcoming to me,” you say. 

“You don’t have to thank us,” Jaemin says with a smile. 

“Yeah,” Renjun adds. “You’re our friend.”

“You’re stuck with us I’m afraid,” Mark jokes and you smile. 

“How terrible.”

After an hour, it gets chilly, so you fold up the blanket and all pile back into the car. The drive back to your place is quieter than the others, but you don’t mind the calm atmosphere. 

Everyone enchanges goodbyes with you and Jeno outside, promising to see you again in the coming days. You wave at the car as they drive away before taking Jeno’s hand and following him inside. 

After getting ready for bed (though it’s well past 4 a.m at this point and closer to morning than night) you both cuddle up under the covers on your bed, your bodies pressed together. 

“Did you like the surprise?” he asks and you smile. 

“I loved it. I love you.”

He kisses the top of your head. “I love you too.”

#nct dream fluff #nct dream headcanons #nct dream scenarios #jeno fluff #jeno scenarios #jeno drabbles #clare’s fics🌸

[elsbbg]

Relief me, Ellie Williams x reader

Synopsis: in which Ellie is particularly stressed about finals and you help her get some relief

Warnings: very shitty smut so minors back off (fem!reader), make out session, fingering e!receiving, cum eating (?)

Wc: 1.2k

A/n: heyy, this is my first time ever writing smut so please go easy on me and please if you’re more experienced than me leave some suggestions, they are always welcomed:) I really hope I didn’t completely suck at writing it, if so I’ll probably delete it. Anyways hope you enjoy <3

As final season was approaching at college, your girlfriend Ellie Williams, an astrophysicist major, could feel the pressure taking over her nerves. You could see how she was more tensed, how she was more tired than usual, and how you saw each other just a couple of times a week which was something unusual for the two of you. On a daily basis you would often have dinner together, maybe even help the other get prepared for an exam, except for these last few weeks.

So here you were, in her dorm room, laying on her bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone as you were bored out of your mind. Ellie was at her desk, trying to get some work done, but too tired to even comprehend the equation that was right before her eyes. That’s when you hear her tiredly sigh, slouching in her chair, rubbing the exhaustion out of her emerald eyes.

You get up from your position on the bed, draping your arms around her neck from behind, leaving small kisses along her jaw. “Els you need to get some rest” you whisper in her ear, to which she responds “I can’t, I’ve got a really important test in two weeks and I can’t understand shit about any of this stuff”she sighed. “I know els, but how do you expect to understand something if your brain is fried already… you can continue tomorrow, let me help you loosen up” at you words she slowly rises from her seat and turns around to give you a proper hug, nuzzling her face in the crook of your neck, taking in your scent.

You slowly lead her to sit on her bed; your back leaning over the headboard while she faces you. She starts leaving little nibbles on your neck, going up your jaw, the sweet spot behind your ear, to then finally reach your craving lips.

The kiss is sweet, like she needed that kind of comfort after too many weeks of built up tension and very light touches. You could sense how she almost forgot how it felt like to be in the warmth of your arms, how you embrace her and how she feels protected when with you, only the two of you in your small little world made of loving touches, quality time and cheesy pick up lines.

She slowly breaks away from the kiss “i missed you so much… I missed all of this” she whispers “I know els, I missed you too” you say in between kissing her cheeks.

The kiss is more heated now, not hungry but surely desired, her hands start pulling at your shirt, caressing the naked skin of your waist.

“Let me take care of you” you whisper, warm breath fanning over her slightly chapped and plushy lips. She seems reluctant at first, taken aback by your statement. “I want to take care of you, you need some release… please els” you would be the one pleasuring her, and still you were the one pleading her with those glossy puppy dog eyes of yours. So she slightly nods, and keeps kissing your lips. You slowly guide her to lay down, her back pressed to your chest, her head nestled in your neck as she breaths in your sweet scent. Her shirt is already laying on the floor and the left strap of her sport bra is off her shoulder, giving your lips more access to her freckled skin. You then proceed to get rid of the grey piece of clothing that was covering her soft breasts, so to reach and pinch her sensitive nipples between your thumb and pointer finger, while lightly biting at the skin on her neck. Soft gasps and sweet whimpers were leaving her plushy lips as you teased her, played with her nerves. Frustrated by the teasing she turns her face hiding in the crook of your neck “please… I need you” she pants, all flustered for you only.

“Since you asked so nicely…” your hands reach the top of her grey sweatpants, you swiftly undo the little ribbon she tied and help her completely remove the pair. With only her underwear on, her legs are spread for you, and a wet patch could be visible on her grey boxers. “So wet for me already” you whisper in her ear as you slowly drag your finger up and down the wet patch. “Wanna help me take these off too?” You ask her as you leave a peck on her jaw “please”. And there she is, in her beauty, her pale and freckled naked body laying over your clothed one. In another scenario the roles would be switched, she would be the one sitting behind you as she pleasures you, she would be smirking at how eager you are to feel her fingers inside you. Her calloused fingers yet soft touch gazing all over your smooth and soft skin as she toys with your nipples. But now you’re the one in charge, you need to make her feel good for your own personal pleasure.

Your hand slowly reaches her heat, middle finger parting her folds and feeling her wetness on you. A low moan escapes your lips as she gasps at the sudden touch. Gathering her wetness you move your finger to give her clit an experimental touch to then stuff your middle finger inside of her. The sudden intrusion makes her moan and arch her back a little “so wet for me it slipped right in” you say in between leaving a trail of kisses along her jaw.

You slowly start pumping your finger inside of her at a slow but steady pace.

“More… please” the auburn girl mumbles in between whines “yeah? Think you can take another one baby?” You ask her teasingly “please, I need it-“ she sobs into your neck.

At her sweet begs you immediately slip in your ring finger, starting to pound faster and hitting that sweet little spot inside of her that makes her squirm for you.

The faster your fingers move in her, the more you feel her clenching around you and the release coming, so you begin circling her puffy clit with your thumb at a matching pace making her mouth leave the sweetest and nastiest moans just for you. “You close els? You wanna come for me?” You ask her as the little circles on her clit became tighter and faster “please… I wanna come- don’t stop please” she begs for you as she tries to hide her face into your neck, so you grasp her chin between the fingers of your spare hand, and make her look at you as she comes around your fingers, as she collapses in your arms.

“Fuck- I’m coming” her whines are louder and her features are flushed as she closes her eyes coming around your fingers, and making her release drip down your hand. You slowly pull out and stuff your cum covered fingers in your mouth, licking off all her sweet nectar as you lock eyes with the girl.

Her chest is heaving and her pupils are blown with lust “get undressed, it’s your turn” she says before capturing your lips in a much more heated kiss.

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x reader #the last of us #smut #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie smut

[justalonelyslytherin]

Sicknesses - Ransom Drysdale

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x female Reader

Summary: Ransom ends up sick and she has to take care of him. Not used to such affections Ransom isn't an easy patient, nor a willing one.

Warnings: fluff, sick Ransom, Ransom has a cold, somewhat soft!Ransom, brief mention of his shitty family

Wordcount: 2.1k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don't allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don't steal my work.

A/N: divider by @firefly-graphics

She knew something was up the moment she saw the Beemer parked in front of the house. It had not moved an inch since the previous day. That was the first indication that something was off. 

While Ransom sometimes chose to work from home - the huge office on the upper floor of the house was certainly deemed worthy for that - most of the time he did make the trip to his grandfather’s publishing house. Blood like Wine had an exquisite and even more luxurious headquarters in which Ransom had his own office. One made of plush, luxurious furniture, only second to Harlan’s even grander office. Albeit most of the time, he ended up at his grandfather’s mansion. The two of them would lock themselves into Harlan’s study and work on manuscripts or discuss the newest book the head of the Thrombey/Drysdale dynasty was working on.

It had become a routine for them, for her, to come home to the house, the beemer missing from its usual spot and the house empty and quiet. Ransom would come home to her having whipped up a meal for both. She found he was more relaxed when he worked outside. Especially since Walt loved to get on his nerves. His uncle hadn’t accepted that Ransom now had a bigger role in the company and a higher ranking in the office hierarchy than him and that after working there much shorter. Thus the old, bitter man had made it his goal to make Ransom’s work life a living nuisance. The drive home always worked as a time for Ransom to cool down and leave the angers of work behind.

The second indication something was off was the house. It was silent when she entered it. Nothing so unusual, the house was big and one could be encompassed by silence even if the other person was busy or loud in another part of the spacious living quarters. Still there was an air to the place that told her something was off. There was a reason Ransom had had a help and cleaning lady employed before they had moved together. He had the bad habit of letting things just lay around, never putting them away or cleaning after himself. It was too clean and too untouched. As if he hadn’t been here at all the entire day.

Putting her things down she looked around. The throw blanket and pillows were still neatly draped over the couches in the living room, there were no empty pots and no used cup indicating he had been to the kitchen to make himself a coffee either. The machine wasn’t even turned on and all her cookbooks were still in place. Ransom always liked to shove them to the side to make space when he got himself a coffee.

“Ran?” She knew her chances of him hearing her were slim. She tried it anyway. If he were to be in their bedroom he’d have heard her for sure. Climbing up the stairs she was greeted by even more silence. Even in front of his office, she didn’t hear a thing. That was the third indication something was off. Normally she’d hear him on the phone with someone or simply grumbling to himself. 

Knocking at the door brought her no response. Furrowing her brows she cracked the door open and poked her head into the room. Ransom wasn’t behind his desk in his usual spot but there were some manuscripts and other papers spread over the oak desk together with his open laptop.

“Ransom?” She asked again, this time stepping into his work-den. Something to her right caught her attention. There he was. Sprawled out on the couch, shoes still on. He was on his side with one arm thrown over his eyes and knees bent to fit onto the two-seater. In front of him on the small coffee table lay another manuscript.

“Ransom?” She asked again but he gave no response. She made her way over to him, kneeling in front of the couch. His chest raised and sank in an even rhythm. He looked almost peaceful if it wasn’t for the way his breath rattled and how heavy it was. It seemed like he had difficulty breathing properly. 

She placed her hand on his shoulder, letting her fingers trail over his sweater-clad arm until she reached his wrist. Carefully pulling his arm off his face, she looked at him. His face was scrunched up, a deep frown etched onto his sleeping features. There was a film of perspiration across his forehead and as she combed the unruly strands of his hair back, she felt how dewy with sweat they too were.

“Ransom,” she said again, this time shaking his shoulder. A groan slipped from his lips as he slowly came too. When his eyes opened they were glassy and unfocused.

“Hey baby,” she mumbled quietly, her thumb brushing over his cheek. He simply looked at her, rather blankly and blinked slowly. Once again she furrowed her brows, this time in concern. Ransom wasn’t one for physical attention, at least if it wasn’t coming from him. He had his moments in which he still pushed her away, too overwhelmed with the softness and the loving attitude he received. 

“You fell asleep, are you not feeling alright?” She asked him quietly, trying to get him to engage with her. Finally, he brushed her hand off and sat up, looking around the office and frowning.

“I’m fine,” he told her gruffly. She noticed how congested he sounded, his voice a rather irritated rasp. When he tried to get up and wobbled for a moment she knew he was anything but fine.

“Whoa, take it easy grumpy.” Her hands had shot out towards his waist, softly resting there to help him keep his balance. He shot her a glare but she kept eyeing him and caressing his side with her thumb. “Why were you even on the couch?” Her question made him scoff.

“Walt kept blowing up my phone and he was giving me a headache. I wanted a moment to sort my thoughts before continuing on the manuscript.”

“And you fell asleep?” The question earned her a second glare. His glares had stopped bothering her a long time ago. She could tell by now what were actual signs of irritation and agitation from him and what was simply his stony mask. He wasn’t actually mad at her and behind his glare was no power.

“Let’s call it an early day, hm?” He didn’t look pleased with her suggestion but he also didn’t complain, nor did he stop her from going over to his desk and shutting his laptop off.

“You know you can tell me when you aren’t feeling good,” she told him, eyeing him from behind his desk as she sorted the papers and put them in the desk drawer.

“I’m feeling alright.” Once again he was adamant but the truth was clear to her. When she looked over at him again she noticed him shiver.

“Ransom,” her stern voice made him look up. He seemed surprised. She was always so soft-spoken and calm, never serious or even scolding with him.

“Maybe I still have a headache,” he told her and at that moment he reminded her of a pouting five-year-old that had been caught stealing cookies. Walking back over, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Instantly he relaxed and put his hands on her waist.

“How about you go take a shower. I’ll get you something for your headache and then we’ll lay down together?” It surprised her how easily he agreed. It must have been the mixture of her stern voice from before and him not feeling good.

While he showered she went on to raid their small medicine cabinet. She was glad she had talked him into getting one and stocking it up. Ransom had complained about it the entire way but she had insisted, stating that it was worth it alone for the pain medication she used when it was her time of the month.

Now even more so as she could simply grab the bottle of cold medicine - rather than having to run to a store - and go get him a glass of water. Both items she placed on his nightstand in their bedroom before she went into the adjacent walk-in closet. With a pair of comfy,  silky pajama bottoms and another sweater, she made her way into the bathroom. The shower was still going.

“Ran?”, she asked and heard a small hum coming from him. He sounded less congested, she noticed. The warm water must have cleared his sinuses. “I got you some pajamas to change into when you’re done.”

There was no second hum from him. She knew he had heard her, even if he didn’t she had placed the clothes in a way he couldn’t overlook them. Already on her way to turn around and leave him alone, she stopped when the water cut out and the door of the shower opened. He looked at her with half-lidded eyes, nearly stumbling out of the shower.

“Oof, Ransom!” She was quick to move, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his hips while she simultaneously kept him from slipping and falling. Having to call the ambulance because he split his head open wasn’t what they needed.

“You really aren’t feeling good, huh?” She mumbled, earning another small glare from him that she promptly ignored. “Come on, sit down, you stubborn fool.” Getting him to sit down on the ledge of the bathtub took some coaxing but in the end, he sat there, with his back leaned against the wall.

“I’ll be back in a second,” she had barely completed the sentence before she was already out of the room, grabbing both the medicine and the glass of water. Armed with both she marched back.

“Here, take this.” She held out both a pill and the glass of water, waiting for him to take it. Of course, he didn’t.

“I don’t want it,” he complained, his mouth turned down in an unpleasant frown. Once again he reminded her of a little boy.

“Come on.” Stubbornly he shook his head and cursed at how dizzy it made him feel before he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Ran,” she tried to coax, “Come on, you’ll feel better if you take it.” She knew he was stubborn, he always had been, but a sick Ransom was an entirely new measurement on the stubbornness-skala.

“Take it or I’ll shove it down your throat.” Ransom let out a surprised laugh, that quickly transitioned into a cough that made her wince. He cocked a brow, looking her up and down once his fit had subsided. 

“You’d never be able to.”

“Oh yeah? I’ve got my ways, Ran. You are weak enough right now and if not I’ll have to go to other lengths.” There was a small grin forming on his face together with a challenging look. One she took as a direct invite. Stepping closer to him she looked down at him from over the bridge of her nose, her eyes wandering down towards the towel hiding his lap away. Coming close enough to step in between his legs, she nudged one of her knees forward. That was all it took for him to realize what the other lengths were she was prepared to use.

“You are evil, woman,” he groaned, finally giving up. Even if the thought of intimacy was inviting, he had no energy for it.

“Fine?” She asked him once more and this time he nodded, still scowling. With a triumphant smile, she pushed the pill against his lips, watching him take it into his mouth before she handed him the glass and here too watched him drink it up. Putting the glass aside she put her arms around his neck, softly pushing the wet strands of hair from his forehead.

“Good boy.” The praise was quiet, just whispered against his lips before she gave him a peck. She knew he liked to get praised by her, “Let’s get you dressed, and then we can go lay down.”

With her help, Ransom slipped the pajamas on and trotted behind her into the bedroom. They both got under the covers, her opening her arms up for him. Ransom came without complaints, sinking into the embrace and resting his head on her chest. He was still slightly feverish, the medicine would make him even more sleepy and tired in a short while. She simply wrapped her arms around his shoulders, one hand stroking through his hair.

#sly's 200 #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom x reader #ransom thrombey x you #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombrey

[multifandomslxt]

BLACK ROSES Pt.5

Pairing: Mafia!Lee Jeno x Florist!Reader

Trope: Grumpy x sunshine

Genre: Dark Mafia Romance

Word count: 1.4k

Synopsis:

Lee Jeno is a dangerous man. From going on k!lling sprees for fun to torturing and k!lling his own father. He does it all. In short Lee Jeno is the devil.

Y/N is a florist. She's as pure as they come. Nothing exciting ever happens in her life and she’s okay with that. In short Y/N is an angel.

He was bad and she was good. They were complete opposites.

…Or so they thought

Get your tissues for this one. It's gonna be one hell of a ride

Warnings for this chapter: mentions violence, panic attacks, Trauma, scars etc. Jeno is obsessed.

*((((A/N: words in bold are her conscience and words spoken in Korean are in italics ))))*

taglist: @scuzmunkie @devinitysann @luvrboyjeno

@painted-hills @mings-cafe

DM ME IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED<33

FLOWER OF THE DAY: The Hibiscus. They are the symbol of positivity, joy, and cheer. They can also mean good luck and wealth. They can be kept as a personal “good luck” gift. Or given to someone who needs some positivity in their life.

“No! that’s not fair!”  I screamed in exasperation.

“Flower, I’m not cheating. I promise you it is a word.” Jeno said with his eyes twinkling in amusement.

We were currently in his office playing Scrabble.

We sat on opposite sides of his work desk.

I know, I was bored, okay?

This is the third time he’s won and I’m getting annoyed.

“Finifugal is not a word.” I argued. What the hell did he take me for?

He looks at me and smiles, his eyes making crescents “It is though.”

I kissed my teeth and lifted my self out of the chair making a mental note to google the word later.

“I’m finished playing.” Since all he wanted to do was cheat, I’d leave.

He threw his head back and laughed at my disgruntlement.

“You can end the game Flower but you’re staying with me today.”

I rolled my eyes at his bossiness.

The man hadn’t let me out of his sight since I told him about the scars on my back.

That was 2 weeks ago.

And over said 2 weeks I got my phone back.

Yay.

“I’ve been under your nose for 2 weeks already.” I complained.

“Exactly, so what’s 2 more?”

I squinted my eyes at him but sat down anyway. “I’m bored and I can’t do anything with you always watching like that”.

He arched a perfect brow “Why not?”

I huffed and crossed my arms “I just can’t!”

He leaned back in his chair and smirked with a mischievous look in his eyes “Is it because I make you nervous flower?”

Just like that the atmosphere became heavy and thick with tension.

Sexual Tension.

I gulped and looked away from his gaze “You’re an asshole”.

Fuck.

Why the hell does he have to be so annoyingly hot?

I squeeze my thighs together at the inappropriate thoughts passing through my head.

I must’ve been doing a shitty job of hiding it because next thing I know he speaks.

“Is there something wrong princess?” He says lowly.

His head is tilted slightly and his eyes dark, enough for me to know that he knows exactly what’s going on.

“Everything is fine.” I rush out.

I rather die than let him make a fool out of me.

My attraction to him is not something I want, so I’ll ignore it.

“What did I tell you about lying to me Y/n?” He grunted out.

I shut my eyes tightly trying to shut him out.

Although, the heat pooling between my legs proved that my methods were not effective at all.

“Come here.” He spoke out to me.

I peeled my eyes open and met his gaze.

I could see him fighting the little restrain he had left.

Good, I won’t be the only one suffering today.

“Come. Here. Now.” He said calmly. His patience must’ve been wearing thin.

I got up from my chair and made my way around his desk settling right in front of him.

He had pulled his chair back and was now looking at me with his legs spread and a dark look in his eyes.

“You’re killing me” He was angry. Furious even.

I said nothing. Too afraid that I would give in to his addicting self.

I stood for what felt like hours under his heated gaze.

I watched him clench and unclench his jaw in some type of anticipation.

In the dark confinement of his office, I realized…

We were waiting on each other.

Unconsciously making a bet.

‘Who will be the first to crack.’

“I want you.”

Those three words were uttered in such desperation.

Those words were uttered by the one who cracked first.

It was me.

I held his gaze completely unfazed by my abrupt confession.

He says nothing for a moment.

But even then, I could tell by his eyes,

He wanted me too.

 Maybe even more than I wanted him.

“Before we start anything Flower, I need you to know that there is no coming back from this. After this I won’t be able to give you up or let you go.” He says sternly.

I expected to have my mind filled with questions, but it seemed for once my heart and mind were on the same track.

I wanted Jeno.

I wanted him Now.

“Do you understand?” Jeno continues oblivious to the fact that I already had my answer from the minute he walked into Izzy’s flower shop.

“Yes, I understand.” I said without missing a beat.

“Good. Now, strip and get on the table.” He says gruffly.

 My body buzzed in anticipation.

I wanted him to break me apart and put me back together again.

Something told me that’s exactly what he was going to do.

Soon, I was naked and sat at the edge of his table.

“Such a fucking good girl.” He smiled and looked at me.

My heart soared as he praised me.

“I want you to do something for me okay?”

I nodded my head eagerly.

I can’t wait to feel him inside of me.

“I want you to touch yourself.” He rasps.

I didn’t object but I didn’t move either.

I suddenly felt sick.

‘Touch yourself for me Dove’.

“No” I whispered.

“If you aren’t comfortable with that you can tell me flower.” Jeno’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.

His eyes held sincerity.

“I’m sorry.” I said ashamed. This went horribly wrong.

“You don’t have to apologize baby”

He was still seated but his belt was undone.

He hadn’t touched me yet.

 I wanted him to.

I needed him to.

But I was scared.

‘Look at you trying to get rid of me already. I’ll never let that happen Dove.’

It happened so fast.

First, I felt nauseous.

The marks on my back started to itch.

Then they started to burn.

I dropped to the floor in excruciating pain.

I could hear Jeno’s voice in the background calling out for me.

“Flower? What’s wrong?’’ Jeno questioned alarmed.

I’d never heard him like that before.

I’ve never heard him so scared.

I tired to answer but my throat felt like it was closing up.

A vivid image of my brother’s face smiling down at me caused me to cry out.

“Y/N!” Jeno called out in alarm. He must’ve gotten up some time ago because felt his hands holding my bare waist.

“GET A DOCTOR IN HERE NOW!”

Was someone else in here with us?

‘This is what happens when you don’t listen Dove.’

I watched as the vivid image of my brother start to choke me.

I couldn’t breathe at all.

My hands clawed at my throat trying to pry my brother’s hands off me.

“Fucksake! Y/N breathe!” Jeno shouted.

I couldn’t.

“Breathe dammit!”

I was going to die.

”Y/N! Don’t you dare close your fucking eyes do you hear me!”

Suddenly, I was floating.

No, I think Jeno was carrying me.

He was running.

My eyelids felt heavy, and my limbs felt weak.

“Y/N please”

It must’ve been raining because I could feel the drops of rain on my face.

I smiled drunkenly.

I’d always wanted to die on a rainy day.

Then I realized, as blurry as my surrounding were I knew these dark halls.

We were still inside.

Rain doesn’t fall inside so how did I feel raindrops on my cheek?

My half-closed eyes looked up at Jeno.

As blurry as things were it was hard to miss his clenched jaw and watery eyes.

And before everything went black I realized,

It wasn’t rain, it was Jeno.

“Flower, you can’t leave me”

He was crying for me.

#nct doyoung #nct127 #nct mafia au #nct imagines #nct reaction #nct wayv #nct x reader #nct smut #nct au #nct fanfic #nct fluff #grumpy x sunshine #dark romance #nct reactions #nct lee jeno x reader smut #nct dream #lee jeno #nct johnny #nct x y/n #nct scenarios #nct jaehyun #nct taeyong #nct taeil #nct haechan #nct renjun #nct mark #nct u #nct 127 #nct yuta #black roses

[plenilune]

hello friends! I used to be Guy Who Does Nothing Ever for like the better part of ten years and now I'm become Guy Whose Schedule Is Too Packed (Good Way)? anyway I miss you and here and also I hate mobile tumblr but it would be so much easier to use tumblr and like chill here in a fun social way if my computer situation were not so dire that I am perpetually harnessed to my desk where the shitty desktop Corey liberated from work (managers thought it was broken bc they're too generationally wealthy to have really sat down and reckoned with bad technology before; it's just a really shit Acer) when I wish to do, non-phone things. anyway, recently I have accidentally unlocked some type of overall beneficial mania I am trying to ride out gently but that has made me become Make Stuff As Part Of My Identity and also have a lot of emotions all the time. I bought a big rolling craft cart (twice the size of the Michaels ones) off Facebook Marketplace for fifteen bucks and then Corey and I had breakfast-lunch (it deffo wasn't brunch) at a diner in the neighbourhood where our combined meals with sides and coffees totaled like sixteen dollars before tip. (this is detectivecore.) also I've started painting tshirts and I may take up the bass. I don't know who I am or what is happening too me but I am riding it all the way to the end of the goddamn track, okay!!!!!!! maybe I'm just better now!!! maybe I love to be alive!!!!!!! I've spent more of my life more or less passively suicidal than I have, not being that, since my early teens so this is like, okay. sure. nice. what. let's fucking go

anyway not to brag but to tell my isolated teenage self -- my isolated mid-twenties self! -- that fuck it, life can be great and weird and big someday even if you feel like it's too late to get in on it, my calendar for this week includes

goth/industrial drag king night at my favourite local queer bar

if I convince myself it's worth it to call in sick to work to go see HOUSE (1977) on the big screen and maybe sell some stuff to make up the lost income (money is tight lately), I will, uh, go see HOUSE (1977) on the big screen at my favourite local cinema. you may know about it, coincidentally. recently it advertised Oppenheimer's sexual proclivities and went viral about it, which made me very proud.

oh it's ~employee appreciation week~ at work this week and Saturday is uhhhh sports day when everyone is encouraged to wear sport, clothing, or whatever. well I participate in one sport (cycling) and consume another (...........Formula 1) and can't afford a Bianchi logo shirt on short notice, so I may simply have to paint a shirt with checkered flags and the legend FASTEST LAP. you know. for normal and wholesome reasons. to wear to work.

[mumble mumble might have a make stuff and make out date with a hot possum-in-human-guise I know who gave me a chicken bone as a token the last time we hooked up]

anyway hello friends! I MISSED YOU. let's take this one from the top.

#the diary #i am a ridiculous person

[modelbus]

Anonymous asked:

hello Queen, I hope you’re having a good day/night! Can you make a Dream x reader (platonic), where he helps the reader through a panic attack?

Of course! Seeing as he's (currently) faceless, I made it through a call and tried to keep the reasoning for the panic attack vague. And I hope your day/night is also good!

Broken Breaths

Pairing: CC!Dream x gn!Reader (platonic)

Dream calls you a half hour after the big argument. It's just shitty timing, really.

You wipe your tears, trying to push away the panic that's swelling in your chest. It feels like a rising tide that'll eventually drown you, but hopefully not now.

"Hey!" Dream greets excitedly. "I have a question for you."

"Yeah?"

"Sapnap can't be in a video because he's going to see Karl, but I wanted to ask you to join anyways, so this works out better. Be in the video? Just George and I, and then you."

"Sounds like fun, what's it about?"

A beat.

"You're speaking fast." Dream says slowly.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Being slow hurts for some reason and takes your breath away. Besides, this call needs to be over. Soon.

"Where are you right now?"

"My room?"

You slammed the door to your room.

You slammed it after-

Well. After the argument.

It wasn't pretty to say the least. Words were thrown, things brought up. Things that made you panicky inside, that once in your brain forced your breath out of your lungs. Breath that just didn't seem to be coming back no matter what you did.

And now you were thinking about it all over again. The words, the feelings. That tide was swelling too high for you to push it away this time.

"Sit down, please, I need you to sit down."

As if perfect timing, your legs give out and you sit down in your gaming chair. The phone drops onto the desk.

"Are you sitting?" Your breath is gone. Oh no. You need that. You need to breathe. "Any noise can work, but I need to know you're sitting so I know you're safe."

"Yes." You breathe out, forcing it past your closing lungs as you try to gasp for air. "Sitting."

"Good. That's good. Can you name three things you see?"

"Can't-" You can't.

"That's fine." Dream says quickly, not cutting you off but making sure it doesn't sound like you couldn't finish your sentence. "I'm going to ask you to breathe with me. I'll say in, count to three, then we hold for three, then we exhale for three. Try to follow along as best you can."

Your eyes unfocus. You can't- you can't breathe-

"You can breathe. You have to breathe." Dream urges.

"Come on, you got this. Breathe. Remember how you told me you hated when people reminded you that you're breathing? Because then you have to think about it? I want you to think about it. Just breathe. That's it."

"In, 1, 2, 3, hold 1, 2, 3, out 1, 2, 3. Yeah, that's it. Doing good."

He repeats it two more times, before moving to four seconds (and repeats it four times), then does the same with five and six.

You're shaking still, shaking too much, but at least you can breathe again. The feeling of air in your lungs is one you never want to lose again.

"Where are you?"

"In... my room?"

"Yup. What are four things you see?"

"My computer, my wall. Poster. Phone."

"Three things you feel."

"Chair. Desk. Clothes."

"Two things you hear."

"The fan. You."

"And one thing you taste."

"My spit?"

"That's it. Do you remember what we were talking about?"

"Your video."

"Mhm. What happened before that?"

"I don't-"

"It's okay. That's okay. What about what you ate for breakfast this morning?"

"Toast."

He was asking you simple questions, yet they took so much energy and thought. It was becoming easier though.

"Me too. Lunch?"

"Skipped."

"Alright. Did you play Minecraft today? Learn something new?"

"Recorded with Tommy."

"I'm jealous." Dream says lightly. "When was that?"

"Three."

"It's six right now, was five thirty when I first called. Do you remember what you did at four?"

You close your eyes, struggling to keep them open. "Responded to emails."

"For how long?"

"An hour. I had paperwork to fill out." Stupid paperwork.

"Good. That's really good. How much are you with me right now would you say? If ten is your normal and one is dead sleep."

After a second, you respond. "Eight?"

"Perfect. You're in your room. You're sitting down at your chair. There's a fan going. Correct?"

"Yeah."

"Do you know what happened? After I called?"

"You... asked about a video?"

"Mhm. And after that."

"No."

You think you know, but saying it makes it too real.

"You had a panic attack. You're okay now. You're safe, in your room, sitting down."

"Okay." You respond despite the lack of a question, fully believing him.

You're safe, you're okay.

A silence settles between you two, one you use to breathe. Your hands dig into the arm rests of the chair before reaching out and dusting over the desk.

"Are you okay? Or, as okay as you can be."

"Yeah."

You're out of it. The tide's washed away.

"Thank god." Dream lets out a heavy breath. "What happened?"

"I got into an argument." Dream was here. Dream was here, and he cared, and you have people who care.

He lets out a heavy breath, loud in the silence of your room.

"I don't like that you're so far away. I want to be able to help." He admits.

"You did help."

"I want to able to hug you." He corrects.

"I feel like you'd hug me so tight I'd die."

Dream laughs, not his wheeze, but at least it's a laugh.

"Maybe."

#Dream #dreamwastaken #dreamwastaken x you #dreamwastaken x reader #panic attack #dsmp #mcyt #dream mcyt #dream x you #dream x reader

[queenofthursday6599-blog]

So apparently they (I'm assuming the government, but it could be a movement of parents, I'm not too sure I haven't looked into it that much) are trying to get rid of special ed classes, along with gifted and talented classes, to just have all kids in one classroom.

Why.

What purpose would that serve?

If the kid is struggling in class due to their disability why would you insist on them not being in a special ed class? Where they can better have their needs met by a specifically trained special ed teacher?

There's no point to it that I can think of, other than wanting to shove as many kids in one class as possible under a single teacher.

Same with getting rid of gifted and talented programs (though I do think like the vast majority of those programs are structured really poorly, and are in need of overhauling anyways).

Schools just don't want to pay for extra teachers, and parents don't want to hear that their kid isn't smart enough for certain classes. Be it the mainline classes, or the gifted classes.

Like even I, as just a child growing up with just ADHD on a 504 plan, struggled to the point of leaving public school and switching to homeschooling in high school.

In middle school there were times were I would spend weeks at a time spending my lunch in ISS (in school suspension) desperately trying to get caught up with my peers on assignments.

And I preferred that.

At that point I was so desperate to try and keep up with my peers that I preferred having to spend my lunch and recess in the detention hall, sitting at a desk where the dividers are set up so you can't see any other students, where it was quiet and there was nothing to distract me because talking was forbidden.

I went through years of parent teacher conferences hearing my teachers tell my mother that I was "really bright, but if she could just focus/pay attention, and remember to do xyz".

Like I wasn't medically diagnosed with a neurological difference that made doing those things extremely difficult in the framework the school was set up in.

The main thing I remember about junior high, is me nearly sprinting through the two stories of the school desperately trying to figure out where the hell I was supposed to be going.

Because every day had a different set of classes I was supposed to go to, and the schedule changed with the semester. So by the time I finally managed to memorize the pattern, it would change and I had to start from zero again.

Not to mention teachers are already hella over worked, and now they want to also have mainline teachers have to try and teach students who would probably be better in a special ed class (which have a max of 15* students).

Along with the kids who fly through mainline coursework in half the time as the rest of the kids and are then left to screw around for the rest of class, distracting their classmates.

[*Which is about half the size of the biggest mainline class I was ever in. A class that I in fact flunked out of and had to take remedial classes for, because so many other students distracted me to high hell.

Remedial classes, which I flew through in less than a month because you did it at your own pace on the computer, so there was nothing to distract me.

After which I got bumped to the only remaining Sci class that fit into my schedule, which had only 12 students including me, which I then mysteriously flourished in.]

I don't understand it. I don't. I just can't help but feel like this is setting up a number of kids, disabled and not, up for failure in an already shitty school system.

What else could be the appeal to having all these kids of different learning ability all stuffed into one class room be? Other than not wanting to pay for the special classes and extra teachers (be they special ed or gifted and talented), or parents not wanting to admit that their kid is disabled and just needs extra help with some things.

Like this is either a money issue, or this is an abileist parents issue, and I don't know which.

#adhd #so did you guys know that apparently people are trying to get rid of special ed classes #which I think is hella dumb #in an ideal world every class would be structured more like a special ed classes where there's no more than 15 students per class #like I know that's a really utopian kind of dream but still #mainline classrooms are already stupid over crowded and now you're trying to push disabled kids to be in them too #like I know there's a teacher shortage but this isn't the answer

[nolongerinusegotomodelbus]

hello Queen, I hope you’re having a good day/night! Can you make a Dream x reader (platonic), where he helps the reader through a panic attack?

Of course! Seeing as he's (currently) faceless, I made it through a call and tried to keep the reasoning for the panic attack vague. And I hope your day/night is also good!

To anyone new reading this: go follow @modelbus instead of here! Due to technical problems, this account will soon be deleted, and everything will be there instead :D

Broken Breaths

Pairing: CC!Dream x gn!Reader (platonic)

Dream calls you a half hour after the big argument. It's just shitty timing, really.

You wipe your tears, trying to push away the panic that's swelling in your chest. It feels like a rising tide that'll eventually drown you, but hopefully not now.

"Hey!" Dream greets excitedly. "I have a question for you."

"Yeah?"

"Sapnap can't be in a video because he's going to see Karl, but I wanted to ask you to join anyways, so this works out better. Be in the video? Just George and I, and then you."

"Sounds like fun, what's it about?"

A beat.

"You're speaking fast." Dream says slowly.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Being slow hurts for some reason and takes your breath away. Besides, this call needs to be over. Soon.

"Where are you right now?"

"My room?"

You slammed the door to your room.

You slammed it after-

Well. After the argument.

It wasn't pretty to say the least. Words were thrown, things brought up. Things that made you panicky inside, that once in your brain forced your breath out of your lungs. Breath that just didn't seem to be coming back no matter what you did.

And now you were thinking about it all over again. The words, the feelings. That tide was swelling too high for you to push it away this time.

"Sit down, please, I need you to sit down."

As if perfect timing, your legs give out and you sit down in your gaming chair. The phone drops onto the desk.

"Are you sitting?" Your breath is gone. Oh no. You need that. You need to breathe. "Any noise can work, but I need to know you're sitting so I know you're safe."

"Yes." You breathe out, forcing it past your closing lungs as you try to gasp for air. "Sitting."

"Good. That's good. Can you name three things you see?"

"Can't-" You can't.

"That's fine." Dream says quickly, not cutting you off but making sure it doesn't sound like you couldn't finish your sentence. "I'm going to ask you to breathe with me. I'll say in, count to three, then we hold for three, then we exhale for three. Try to follow along as best you can."

Your eyes unfocus. You can't- you can't breathe-

"You can breathe. You have to breathe." Dream urges.

"Come on, you got this. Breathe. Remember how you told me you hated when people reminded you that you're breathing? Because then you have to think about it? I want you to think about it. Just breathe. That's it."

"In, 1, 2, 3, hold 1, 2, 3, out 1, 2, 3. Yeah, that's it. Doing good."

He repeats it two more times, before moving to four seconds (and repeats it four times), then does the same with five and six.

You're shaking still, shaking too much, but at least you can breathe again. The feeling of air in your lungs is one you never want to lose again.

"Where are you?"

"In... my room?"

"Yup. What are four things you see?"

"My computer, my wall. Poster. Phone."

"Three things you feel."

"Chair. Desk. Clothes."

"Two things you hear."

"The fan. You."

"And one thing you taste."

"My spit?"

"That's it. Do you remember what we were talking about?"

"Your video."

"Mhm. What happened before that?"

"I don't-"

"It's okay. That's okay. What about what you ate for breakfast this morning?"

"Toast."

He was asking you simple questions, yet they took so much energy and thought. It was becoming easier though.

"Me too. Lunch?"

"Skipped."

"Alright. Did you play Minecraft today? Learn something new?"

"Recorded with Tommy."

"I'm jealous." Dream says lightly. "When was that?"

"Three."

"It's six right now, was five thirty when I first called. Do you remember what you did at four?"

You close your eyes, struggling to keep them open. "Responded to emails."

"For how long?"

"An hour. I had paperwork to fill out." Stupid paperwork.

"Good. That's really good. How much are you with me right now would you say? If ten is your normal and one is dead sleep."

After a second, you respond. "Eight?"

"Perfect. You're in your room. You're sitting down at your chair. There's a fan going. Correct?"

"Yeah."

"Do you know what happened? After I called?"

"You... asked about a video?"

"Mhm. And after that."

"No."

You think you know, but saying it makes it too real.

"You had a panic attack. You're okay now. You're safe, in your room, sitting down."

"Okay." You respond despite the lack of a question, fully believing him.

You're safe, you're okay.

A silence settles between you two, one you use to breathe. Your hands dig into the arm rests of the chair before reaching out and dusting over the desk.

"Are you okay? Or, as okay as you can be."

"Yeah."

You're out of it. The tide's washed away.

"Thank god." Dream lets out a heavy breath. "What happened?"

"I got into an argument." Dream was here. Dream was here, and he cared, and you have people who care.

He lets out a heavy breath, loud in the silence of your room.

"I don't like that you're so far away. I want to be able to help." He admits.

"You did help."

"I want to able to hug you." He corrects.

"I feel like you'd hug me so tight I'd die."

Dream laughs, not his wheeze, but at least it's a laugh.

"Maybe."

#Dream #dreamwastaken #dreamwastaken x you #dreamwastaken x reader #panic attack #dsmp #mcyt #dream myct #dream x you #dream x reader #platonic

[bugdotpng]

it look me nearly 30 years but i’ve finally started doing things that make my life easier. incrementally, of course. i didn’t start doing all of this overnight. anyway, here’s some stuff i’ve learned:

i buy pre-washed/pre-cut fruits and veggies when i can so i’m more inclined to actually eat them (vs. having to wash/cut them beforehand)

also: frozen and canned fruits/veggies are good. if they fit with your lifestyle and get you to eat things that are good for you, do it

actually using the reminders app because i made it even easier for myself by adding a widget on my home screen (general rule: if you have a mental block to doing something, see if you can remove steps)

i keep notepads and sticky notes in every room in my house so i can write down things (usually groceries i need) as i remember them

i keep a bunch of plastic bags at the bottom of my bathroom and desk trash cans so i can replace them easily

i keep cleaning supplies in multiple, relevant places in my house so i’m more inclined to use them (i.e. carpet cleaner in my bedroom; sanitizer in my bathroom, etc.)

i place a bunch of small trash cans around my house where i tend to make more trash (laundry, desk, etc.) and i line them with grocery bags so i can take them out quickly when it’s trash day

my biggest organization tip (that doesn’t sound all that impressive, really) is making sure everything has a designated space. i use a lot of clear containers so i can see what’s inside and so everything has its own space, even in drawers or shelves

noise-canceling headphones are a godsend. doing laundry and dishes are excruciating and exhausting because they’re both too damn loud. i started wearing noise-cancelling headphones and i have so much energy afterward and i don’t lament the idea of having to put away my silverware lol also if i’m overstimulated from a long day of work, sometimes it’s nice to just not hear anything :^) it blew my mind how much shit my stupid brain was processing without me realizing

i have meds that are more effective if i take them at the same time every day so i set a repeating alarm to take them. that wasn’t always working so i started putting my meds in a daily pill organizer. i take them every day now because i don’t have to remove them from their various containers every time lol. every sunday i make a note to refill them for the week! and the individual days pop out so i can just grab the days i need if i’m spending a weekend away

i’ve tried to recognize where i’m imposing bizarre arbitrary rules that make my life harder. ex: for some reason i convinced myself i’m only allowed to do laundry on weekends and i’m not allowed to run small loads. that’s simply not true lol

in that vein: there is no rule that says you’re not allowed to sit down while cooking. my knees are much happier when i take a chair into the kitchen with me.

sometimes i get so depressed i struggle with hygiene. when i’m not feeling so shitty i try to stock up on things that’ll help me feel better during that time like dry shampoo, oil blotters and baby wipes.

i keep a little hygiene bag with my medical/emergency bag. it has hand lotion, chapstick, nail clippers, a small hairbrush and other things i might need to make myself more comfortable while i’m out and about (think: hangnails, chapped lips, dry skin, etc.)

i’ve struggled for a very long time with flossing because it’s awkward and difficult and sometimes painful. at the guidance of my dentist, i bought some individual flossers. still didn’t use them. wanna know why? the stupid plastic packaging was too loud. i took them all out and put them in a little glass jar so i can grab one super easy. sometimes i’ll even sit on the floor while i floss to give my knees a break.

there are literally no rules. do what you can to make things easier. there’s no one watching you, judging your every move and calling you lazy. and if anyone does call you lazy for trying to make things easier or even more comfortable, they’re not worth listening to. anyway i hope my ramble list helps at least one person lol

#at the very least it’s a fascinating look into the progress i’ve made in therapy lol

[cadmusfly]

1, 3, 13!

Fanfic Asks for the New Year!

(1.) Do you have a word-count goal for the upcoming year?

Absolutely not lol, I mean it’d be nice to get back into writing and finishing a long form original novel piece at some point (brain stalled with SbS but I guess technically with 60k words done it could count as one novel out of three maaaybe) and I’d ideally like to cultivate a consistent writing habit that’s daily or weekly but I am not good at discipline or habits

And also I’m not feeling long form multichaptered pieces right now, but I want to feel it again and I am afraid the only way to feel it is to force it and I am lazy right now after graduating for the second time in my life

(3.) Do you anticipate writing for a new fandom this year? Which one?

Not really because in relative terms I’ve only recently started really writing for the 26 Eight-Year-Olds Napoleon’s Marshalate fandom, (very proud of my last fic which is Peak Cad Weird Poetic Rambling) because only small obscure fandoms tickle my brain and long dead French generals have hijacked my brain with all their drama, tragedy and comedy. Why did nobody tell me before now that dead Frenchmen were so entertaining and catty bitches to each other

(13.) Aside from fanfic, are there any other fan works you’d like to try creating? Fanart, or fanvids, gifsets, or podfic? 

Having made the ambitious shitpost of the tag yourself with 26 drawings of dead Frenchmen - because I thought it would be funnier with my shitty drawings

I have an extremely silly thing I’ve been digitally drawing that I’ll post in the next few days, maybe even tomorrow

Here’s

Here’s a sneak peak.

I do generate a bunch of fun surreal weird AI stuff with the dead Frenchmen as inspiration as well, I don’t really post them out of anxiety, but they’re meaningful to me personally and I enjoy the process of creating these works as much as I enjoy writing and drawing - and it is an extended process because I want very specific things dammit, oh man I need to jump back into photoshop to edit and implement ideas before I lose access to it forever

Oh yeah! The other big fannish thing I do! Painting tiny men! I am going to order more tiny men and paint them oh man I want to order this and recreate this painting but tiny and on my desk and maybe on my cat

Probably the big reason I’ve been writing a tiny bit more is because I’m away from home temporarily and thus away from my paints and tiny men and I can’t just default to painting tiny men all the time and honestly painting tiny men has taken over my life a bit I love them so much and I want to get someone I know to take Good Quality Photos of them

Anyway thank you for the asks!

#cad answers an ask #cadmus rambles #cad talks about fanfic

[saltiestcoconut]

can i request an aiyusa sickfic (either one of them gets sick) 👀 as fluffy or as angsty as you like. thank you in advanced!

This is exactly what you asked for huh nonny? (It is not its more comedic than fluff oops~)

Pairing: aiyusa/aiball Rating: T Content Warnings: None

Friendly reminder that I'm accepting requests for aiyusa prompts (ps if you want an angstier take on this prompt-ish do look forward to aiyusa month~ it's going to be fun!)

Yusaku knew something was wrong when Ai didn't respond first thing in the morning. While laziness was the norm for Ai, he made sure Yusaku had food to eat during the weekdays. 

Yusaku shook Ai's SOLtis, but he was unresponsive. Yusaku shrugged and got ready for school anyways. 

"Bye, Ai. I'm going to school, now, without anything to eat, because I forgot to make food."

No response. Yusaku thought it would be enough to rouse Ai from his stupor. 

Yusaku leaned over Ai, his tie creasing the side of Ai's face. "Ai, I'm leaving. Don't you have something to say to me before I leave?" 

No response. 

Yusaku straighted up, then announced, "I can no longer afford to spend 500 en a month. I'm going to cancel Hulu and instead use the money to invest in crypto." 

Ai shot up. "You wouldn't. You need Spotify to live, you're so addicted to it. Why would you even invest in crypto, invest in me instead I can actually make you money, popular, whatever you want."

Yusaku crossed his arms. "Got you. What's wrong? You were ready to let me walk out without saying bye, or making me eat."

Ai blinked his too long eyelashed, "sorry Yusaku-chan, I couldn't respond to anything today. I think I might have picked up a virus somewhere."

"Were you watching porn again or something?" 

"No! Gosh that was a joke, Yusaku, stop bringing it up all the time!" 

Yusaku smirked, then sat down at his computer. He rummaged around for a few minutes until he was able to slap Ai's porting cable on his desk. "A virus, huh? Then let's take care of that real quick." 

Ai pressed himself against the wall. "Don't you have school? Go to school, and you can deal with this later, I'll be fine." 

"No. School is just a formality, you're more important than anything school has to offer."

Yusaku knew he trapped Ai when Ai's cheeks turned pink and he quickly averted his eyes. "Don't say that…" Ai then pointed an accusatory finger at Yusaku. "You're just using me as an excuse to not go to school!"

Yusaku smiled at Ai. "Turn around, I need to hook you up to the computer." 

"No! Go to school!" 

Yusaku crawled on the bed and tried to turn Ai around. Ai, however, fought Yusaku with gusto. 

"Help! Help! Yusaku-chan is molesting me! I don't want anything to be stuck in me right now!"

"Damnit Ai, we've done this multiple times, why the fuss now?" 

"You need to go to school!"

"Let me take care of you! You're my responsibility, so let me handle this." 

Ai stopped struggling, long enough for Yusaku to tug him closer to the computer.

"You're not… I didn't mean… I'm not something you have to take care of all the time."

Yusaku gathered Ai's hair in a loose ponytail and twisted it into a shitty bun. "I didn't mean it like that. You entrusted me with the cyberse, didn't you? I'm just doing the minimum." 

Yusaku hooked Ai up to the computer. He heard a huff. "Classic Yusaku, not saying what's on his mind. I know what you really mean, though." 

"Do you now?" Yusaku said half-heartedly in favor of scanning Ai's code. As a more complex virus, ordinary anti-virus softwares wouldn't work for Ai. 

"Yeah. I know that you love me, and that you care for me, and what you really wanted to say is that we take care of each other." 

"Yeah… something… like that…" Yusaku trailed off. He had already been absorbed by the task at hand. 

"You're not even paying attention to me," Ai whined. "I thought we were having a heart to heart moment!" 

Yusaku hummed. Finally, he found the virus, which seemed to be the type of virus that gathered information and sent it somewhere else. He carefully dealt with the virus as Ai chanted his name. 

"Yeah, you're right," Yusaku finally said, if only to get him to shut up. 

"So you agree you're emotionally constipated!" 

"Yeah."  

Yusaku finished his sweep of Ai's code and leaned over to power off the SOLtis. He needed to restart the SOLtis to properly rid it of the virus. 

Yusaku detached the cable and casually tossed it aside. While Ai powered back on, Yusaku laid him down and dragged his chair closer to the bed. 

Ai slowly lifted himself from the bed. "What time is it?" 

"Two thirty."

Ai stared at him. "You're the worst." 

"Glad you're okay." 

Ai tugged Yusaku onto the bed. "Your punishment for being such a bad boy is to rest with me." 

"You don't need to sleep off a virus." 

"Yes I do. Let's go to sleep." 

Yusaku was thus forced to spend the rest of the day smothered in Ai's embrace. 

#me? promoting my own event? sure why not fjkdsjkl #aiyusa #aiballshipping #ygo vrains #scribble scrabble