#One for car one for desk a bunch for the bags I use and also for my travel bag

[chickenisamazing]

I bought a bunch of $20 iems and am slowly testing them and I think I actually like the bright bass-less sound a lot

[gloomwitchwrites]

First of all, I 100% know this is an overused trope... but still....

What If 141 2 people 1 bed trope

Who cares that it's an overused trope? It's a classic for a reason!

I will never tire of a one bed trope. It can be steamy and sexy. It can be angsty. It can be tense. It can literally be so many things at once. It's also a wonderful canvas to play around, and I had a lot of fun with this one. I know you've waited for this one for a while. I hope you enjoy it! :)

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x TF141 Female Reader

Content & Warnings: swearing, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, multiple positions, rough kissing, vaginal fingering, oral sex (male & female receiving), admission of feelings, pretend sex, fake dating/married

Word Count: 6.3k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Fuck,” mutters Price.

You glance over your shoulder. Captain Price stands near the hotel window, the gauzy blinds closed but the thicker ones bunched to the sides, allowing in natural light. He’s staring at something happening in the parking lot.

“What it is?” you ask, starting to walk over to him.

“They might have found us.”

Dread flares hot, clenching the muscles in your stomach until it hurts. “Are you sure?”

Price nods, and then backs away from the window. “There’s no way they saw our faces during the infiltration. We wore masks. Might have tracked the stolen car.”

“We need to leave,” you say, but Price shakes his head.

“There’s too many of them, and they’re likely watching all exits on the main floor.” He sighs. “We need to play this right.”

The two of you are freshly showered, and the clothes you wore for the infiltration have already been discarded. Burned—actually, somewhere in the deserts of Arizona. At the moment, the two of you look like civilians.

“They can’t search the building, John. Not without bloodshed.”

He runs a hand through his hair, his gaze darting across the room as his brain works something over. You fidget, picking at your nails. It’s a terrible habit. One you do when you’re nervous.

Price glances at you and your heart drops. “They look official, and that’s probably all that matters. The scrawny teenager at the front desk isn’t going to put up a fight if the credentials appear legitimate.”

“Fuck,” you whisper, striding toward the window to look for yourself.

Captain Price is right. They do look official. They also look fucking terrifying which would scare anyone into compliance if you don’t know what to look for.

“We’re on the bottom floor,” you say, stepping back.

“I know,” growls Price. He pivots, examining the entire room.

He goes for the car keys and shuts them inside the safe. The only other thing in the room is a duffle bag full of plain clothes and generic toiletries. Price pushes clothes aside and then draws out the pistol hiding beneath it all. He checks the clip and then preps the barrel.

“Take off your clothes.”

“What?” you ask, startled.

Price walks over to the singular bed in the room, tucking the gun beneath the pillows. “Do you trust me?”

“Absolutely,” you affirm.

“Then take off your clothes,” repeats Price, reaching behind his head with one hand to grab the collar of his shirt. He pulls it over and off, tossing it aside.

“Spread it around. Make a mess,” he instructs as he goes for the belt on his jeans.

For a moment, you’re stunned, staring at Captain Price’s bare chest. While he’s muscular, it isn’t from a life in the gym. He is thick in all the right places. A solid wall with a beautiful dusting of dark hair that travels downward.

The belt is gone, and that too is tossed aside.

Without removing your gaze, you tentatively discard your shirt, but keep your bra on. It’s a barrier. A safety net. Price isn’t even glancing at you, but you do notice some color at the tops of his cheeks. A soft pink that makes your thoughts spiral outward to imagine if this gentle blush is the same color as the head of his cock.

Price’s jeans go next, already discarded before you move on to the next article of clothing. He’s only in socks and black boxer briefs. There is so much of him on display that you’re starting to forget yourself.

He glances at you, and that color in his cheeks darken. “You’re still dressed.”

You open your mouth to answer but then you hear a shout from down the hall and sharp banging on a door. They’re far too close.

This urges you on, moving with faster intention, and once you’re down to just your bra and underwear, you finally glance at Price again.

Price—who is naked. Completely bare. And you have a full view of what he’s been packing underneath all that.

Fuck.

He approaches the bed, and tugs back the sheets. The muscles in his arms and back tense as he crumples the bedding to sexed perfection—as if the two of you have been going at it for hours.

Price sits down on the edge of the bed and slides underneath, his legs parting enough that you get a glimpse of everything. This man isn’t even fully hard but from what you can see, it would be a tight fit if you actually sat on him.

Lifting a pillow, Price checks for the pistol and then sets it back, settling into the sheets. He frowns slightly when his attention returns to you.

“All of that has to go.”

“Does it?” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest.

There’s another thunderous pounding on a nearby door followed by shouting.

“It does if we’re going to make it out of here alive.” Price shrugs, and then smirks. “Could help you.”

Sighing heavily and you reach behind your back, unclasping the bra. You hurl it at him and Price catches it out of the air. Crossing your arms over your chest, you hurry toward the bed. But you don’t make it beneath the sheets.

“Everything,” repeats Price.

Reaching out, Price snags the thin cotton fabric and pulls down, revealing you to him and the room. Instinct as you grasping for control, hands splayed over his large forearms as he gives the fabric another yank.

You cannot form a response. Words leave you as Price drags you into the bed with him.

“Sorry about this,” he grumbles, that color returning to his cheeks in full force. It’s cute actually—how sheepish he looks.

You swallow, and lick your lips. “It’s fine.”

Price leans back against the pillows, guiding you with him. “Get on top.”

Straddling his hips, you settle yourself over him. You try—and fail—to not notice the way the hard length of him nestles against your pussy. You keep one arm crossed over your breasts but all it does is hides your nipples from him. Your other hand is splayed wide and pressed against his chest.

“We’re married,” he says, staring into your eyes. “That’s the story. I’ll do the talking. You act like the scared wife when they come barging in.”

You nod, and Price releases a deep exhalation. His hands rest on your thighs. They’re a brand. Warm. All you can think about. They move upward to settle on your hips.

“Pretend you’re riding me,” he murmurs.

With a gentle hand, Price grasps your wrist, drawing your arm away from your breasts. You don’t resist, and he brings your other palm to rest against his chest.

“Pretend,” he reiterates, hands returning to your hips. Price creates the motion by dragging you back and forth, imitating a rocking motion. Though you’re stationary, your pussy still drags against the length of his cock.

You notice the tremor in his jaw as your bodies rub against each other. This is affecting him as much as it is you.

“Pretend,” you say back to him.

Price nods and then grabs for the television remote from the bedside table. He turns it on and then ups the volume. You imitate the motion he created, rocking back and forth, sliding yourself along his cock, pretending you don’t notice how wet you’ve become over the course of the last few minutes.

His hands return to your hips, and then Price sinks back completely into the pillows, his eyelids softening as he gazes up at you. It’s far too intimate of a stare, and it’s only compounded when one of his hands meander upward to slide over your stomach and then between your breasts. You gasp as his thumb traces the underside of your breast.

Head tilting back, you grind downward, finding yourself diving into the warmth that’s starting to pool low in your belly.

A sharp pounding at the door has you snapping to attention. Every muscle tenses. Seizes.

“You’re fine,” coos Price. “We’ll be fine.”

The pounding comes again and then a yell from behind it. The voice is muffled. Not only by the door but from the television.

Swallowing, you try to connect into it again, rolling your hips, imagining that Price is your husband—that you love him—and this is simply an exploration of that love.

When you roll your hips again, Price sits up slightly, his warm breath brushing against your breast. A tingle shudders through you, and Price groans before his tongue grazes over your nipple, bringing it to a point.

“Knew you’d taste sweet,” he says softly at the same moment the hotel door bursts open.

One second, you’re atop Price, and the next his arms are around you, turning you away from the door to hide you from sight. You’re not on your back but Price has shoved you toward the bed as he sits up, creating a barrier between you and the intruders.

The tactical-clad trio entering the room—with a hotel worker nervously trailing behind—

don’t even get a word in before Price starts going off on them.

“Get out! Get the fuck out!”

His accent is gone, replaced by an American one. It’s incredibly good, and his feigned anger even more so. The men entering faulter under Price’s tirade. They likely weren’t expecting this, and Price uses this opportunity to push the advance.

“We’re fucking busy in here. Fuck off!”

The man at the head of the trio clears his throat and holds up a hand, but Price chucks one of the water glasses at the man. The guy ducks and it shatters against the wall. The hotel worker at their back squeaks and pushes forward.

“We’re so sorry. Just a search for some prison escapees. We’re clearly in the wrong room.”

Prison escapees? You want to laugh but think better of it. Instead, you press your face against Price’s arm, feigning sheepishness.

Price’s lips turn into a snarl, and the hotel worker blanches.

“We’ll give you a complimentary stay for the inconvenience,” the man babbles before waving his arms to usher the other men out.

For a moment, you don’t think it’ll work, but they go.

You and Price don’t sigh with relief until the door shuts. His forehead presses against yours, chest heaving.

“Nice accent,” you whisper and this draws a smile from his lips.

“Like it more than this one?” he asks, his regular accent returning.

“Nope,” you say. “This one suits you fine.”

Price’s gaze draws over your exposed body and then lands on your face. It’s soft. Sensual. You’re frozen beneath it, breath catching as his fingers brush along the line of your jaw.

You’re not sure who moves first but his lips are on yours and then you’re moaning. Price rolls you onto your back, each kiss more demanding and fiercer than the last. He tastes of the mint toothpaste he used earlier and smells of soap.

Reaching between your bodies, you find him hard, and there is no other need within you but the one that craves for him to be inside. To fuck you ceaselessly.

You stroke him and Price groans into your mouth, his hand wrapping around your throat. Hooking your legs behind him, you guide him to your entrance. With a light press of your heels, Price takes your meaning.

There is no gentle pretense. No soft kisses or playful coaxing. Price goes all in, and you break the kiss to gasp aloud, nails digging into his back. Price is thick and having him inside you is a deliciously painful stretch.

It is all desperate the way he moves. Price isn’t gentle. It’s skin slapping against skin. It is sweat and groans. A savage hardness that borders on hysteria.

Your hand reaches behind you to press against the headboard as Price fucks you into the bed, but even that is shaking, banging loudly against the wall. It’s clear even over the drone from the television. The people next door will know exactly what the two of you are up to.

Price is relentless. A man starved. He nips at your bottom lip. Sucks it into his mouth. And when that isn’t enough, he goes for your neck and then your breasts, making your nipples smart and throb under his teeth and tongue.

The orgasm comes sharp and hot, bursting forth like a wave. And when you squeeze around him, Price is right there with you, his cum coating your insides as he too finds his end.

The two of you are all heavy breath. Sweaty limbs.

Price nuzzles the side of your neck, placing soft kisses there until he travels up to find your lips again. These are gentle. Not desperate like before.

When there’s a moment to speak, it is you that breaks the silence.

“So much for pretending.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

It’s the middle of the day but you wouldn’t be able to tell.

A storm is raging—the rain thick and heavy. It falls from the sky in large drops that soak clothes and slick the skin. It’s a bit cold, too. A little chilly. The kind of wet chill that hardens the nipples and brings a shiver to your bones.

“Here. You’re soaked.”

Kyle presents a towel. It’s off-white and a bit frayed. But what can you expect from a motel in the middle of nowhere? Having a towel at all is nice. At least it isn’t threadbare.

“Thanks,” you reply softly, gently dapping the rough-textured material against your face.

Kyle strides over to the heating unit. It’s dirty and barely anchored to the wall. He hits a few buttons and then the thing turns on. It’s loud. Clunky. But heat starts to seep from the slats, warming the room.

After drying your face, you begin to remove outer pieces of clothing. Kyle might be your teammate, but there isn’t really anywhere to hide but the bathroom. Knowing the state of most motels, you don’t really want to find out either.

Kyle has the same idea. He dries off with his own towel, removing soaked articles of clothing as he goes. You try not to look—to be discreet—but it’s hard not to steal a peek. Kyle is all toned muscle and firmness. There’s a light dusting of hair on his chest. It’s a bit thicker around his navel. It trails downwards, and your mind wanders to a place it shouldn’t.

You glance away but not fast enough. His gaze roams upward, finding you, and there he pauses, observing you as you did him.

Pretending is best.

You attempt to act like you don’t notice him at all, turning your back like you’re incredibly interested with the wallpaper that likely hasn’t been replaced in years.

It’s his heat that draws your attention—that steals your breath, and makes every muscle in your body tense with anticipation.

“You’re shivering,” he murmurs.

Kyle is so close. Close enough that his breath brushes against your bare shoulder. You’re just in your bra and underwear, the only items that aren’t completely soaked from the rain.

He inhales, and that exhalation teases your flesh again. Giving in, you close your eyes, sinking into Kyle’s presence.

When you open them again, you notice a mirror hanging on the wall. It’s great if you were trying to plan an outfit, but that isn’t what you notice.

Instead, you see yourself. And Kyle.

The backs of his knuckles lightly caress the side of your arm. His head is tipped forward and turned inward like you’ll turn around any moment to kiss him.

The urge is there. Tugging. Wanting you to do just that.

The two of you are always walking around the other, seeking comfort and closeness but never seizing it. Maybe you should. Maybe—turning around is the best thing you can do for yourself.

“Kyle,” you breathe, and his little hum in answer tightens that string.

Without hesitation, you do turn.

Kyle’s lips are right there. They’re parted slightly. Inviting.

His arm drapes across your waist, hand splaying wide against your stomach, pressing until the two of you are sandwiched together.

It’s not like you don’t want this. You do. You want Kyle. Have since the moment he introduced himself to you. But the two of you have always remained professional in every space you occupy.

And now there is no one around.

No one to see.

No one to know.

Your head tips back in answer, and Kyle leans into it, pressing his lips to yours. It is sweet. Gentle. More of an ask than anything else.

And you reply, meeting him in equal measure. The pressure on your stomach increases just as Kyle’s other hand wraps around the front of your throat, holding you still. Each kiss is a claiming, one you freely submit to.

Kyle is all sugared-warmth, and you want to rot your teeth.

Draping your arm around the back of his neck, you pull him closer. Kyle nips. Bites. Sucks your bottom lip into his mouth before soothing the burn with a few tender kisses. Heat blossoms in your core before morphing into an aching slickness.

You’ve been putting him off—brushing him aside.

Why wait any longer when Kyle is all you crave?

“Fucking hell, love,” he groans against your mouth.

Your lips part, and Kyle slides his tongue inside. His taste is everything, but you want to know him everywhere.

Your hand seeks, brushing against his hardness through his boxer briefs. When you slip your hand beneath the elastic band, Kyle’s only response to kiss you harder.

Wrapping your fingers around him, you start to stroke what you can with the little room you have. Your thumb brushes over the head of his cock and Kyle draws back.

“I’ve wanted this since I met you,” he says, voice a bit rough.

Twisting in his grip, you turn to face him. “Can I show you how much I’ve wanted you, too?” you ask, pressing your breasts against his chest.

Kyle loosens his hold and you drop to your knees, taking his boxer briefs with you. His cock is gorgeous. It curves upward slightly, and a pearly bead of precum blooms in the slit.

He whispers your name, and then you have him in hand. Stroking once. Twice.

You lick off that bead. Savor his taste. Go back for more.

Kyle grabs the back of your head, drawing you to him. You open your mouth. Swallow him down. Throating him until you gag.

“Fuck,” he groans, elongating the vowel.

You work him with hand and mouth, keeping a steady rhythm that has him weak and wanton. You have all the control—until you don’t.

“Let me fuck your mouth, love. Please.”

The please is what does it. You release his cock, placing both hands on his thighs. With a pleased growl, Kyle keeps your head stationary. You anticipate the first thrust, and it is sinful. The movement goes straight to your pussy as you imagining him fucking you there like he fucks your mouth.

Fingers dig into muscled thigh. You want to touch yourself, to tease your clit while he does it. He is a god above you—Adonis.

“Can’t wait to taste your cunt, love,” rasps Kyle. “Can’t wait to make you drip for me.”

His desire fuels your own, and you urge him on, gently cupping him with one hand, thumb lightly rubbing the sensitive strip of flesh there.

Kyle’s hips stutter, and you relax your throat, humming around his cock as your lips meet the base. He holds you there, and you take it all, thighs chaffing from the friction of you rubbing them together in anticipation.

You blink up at him, and Kyle wipes away a tear with his thumb.

“My turn,” he murmurs.

You’re on your feet and then on your back in seconds. All the wind is knocked out of you, and then Kyle’s tongue is there, sliding through your slickness. Parting. Teasing the opening of your vagina before trailing upward to circle around your clit.

Gasping, your hands reach for him. Kyle grabs both wrists, keeps them planting on your stomach as he fucks you with his tongue. His shoulders dig into your thighs, keeping them wide. He’s stronger than you even as your thighs quiver, wanting to close, wanting to shut.

Kyle groans against your pussy, and then he’s on your clit, moving in such an easy, languid way that everything explodes outward. A shudder passes from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. Your pussy clenches. Unclenches. Clenches again.

Kyle doesn’t let up. He doesn’t cease. Every stroke strikes true and then your body betrays itself, overstimulation setting in, and the urge to wiggle away is paramount.

But just as you push at him—just as your body draws back. Kyle is releasing your wrists, pushing himself up and over you, spreading those legs even wider to slide inside.

The bed creaks beneath you, and then he’s thrusting.

Your moans of pleasure become one with the rain.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Single lamp. Lone bed.

Peeling paint. Dusty corners.

“Something’s on your mind.” Your voice is the only sound in the room other than the AC unit.

Soap’s sigh is soft and small as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

It’s the last night before the potential end. Before victory or failure. Just the two of you now with the plan to meet up with others later.

He nods, and you take a tentative step forward. “We attended the briefing. You know the details.”

“Aye.”

“Then what has you worried?” you ask, taking another step in Soap’s direction.

A warm, orange glow emits from the singular lamp on the bedside table. It’s not enough light to illuminate the cheap peeling paint or the dirt in the corners of the room. It only gives life to the bed and the side of Soap’s face.

It’s not like you have an unlimited budget. A motel room is the best the two of you could manage for some rest before moving on. The man at the desk didn’t even glance up when he asked if they only wanted a room for an hour.

You had asked for two beds. The man at the desk replied that no one who stops here asks for that.

One bed it is.

One bed.

Somehow, you’ll have to sleep beside Soap while simultaneously shoving down the urge to reach out to him.

Sighing, Soap leans forward, forearms resting on his knees. His gaze drifts slightly as if he’s not focusing on anything in particular. Running his fingers through his short mohawk, he tugs on the ends, mussing the freshly washed strands, creating a wavy mess.

Just that one movement as you leaning forward, nostrils flaring to inhale that clean scent.

“Adaptability,” he answers. Finally.

Instead of sitting on the bed beside him, you sink to your knees, resting your arm on the bed, and your chin on your arm.

The two of you have been on missions before but never together like this.

Never alone.

Keeping your gaze downward, you notice just how close you are to him—and how Soap leans in your direction, the edge of his knee brushing against the side of your hand.

It’s a small contact, but he’s warm, and that warmth is transferring into yourself, unspooling outward. It’s a difficult thing—because all this time you’ve harbored feelings for him, and yet have never acted on them.

“You’re quick on your feet, Soap,” you murmur, one finger absently extended to brush over the curve of his knee.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “You can call me Johnny.”

Johnny. You’ve never called him that. Soap, sure. Sergeant MacTavish? All the time.

“I thought Ghost only had that right.”

Only Ghost calls Soap ‘Johnny.’ That’s understood by everyone.

Soap shrugs. “He did.” He glances at you, his smile widening. “But I’d like to hear you say it.”

Something swirls in your stomach, twisting like a knife.

“How would you like to hear it?” you reply.

Johnny’s smile, which is so wide and teasing, softens into a sultry smirk. “I have options?”

“You do.”

Johnny’s usual playfulness emerges. “Say it like you’re angry with me.”

“Johnny,” you say, deepening your voice to sound like Ghost.

He bursts out laughing, falling back onto the bed, clutching his stomach. “Oh, aye. I’ll give you that.”

“What else?” you tease. “I demand more.”

“Say it like you’re annoyed with me.”

You do just that, and Johnny sits up, turning on his side.

“Again,” you prompt.

The middle of Johnny’s brow creases and then his hand cradles the side of your face. He closes the distance, kissing you deeply—as if you are his lover and not a friend.

But you don’t pull away. You indulge yourself, kissing him back just as sweetly.

You’re not sure how much time passes, just that it does, and his small retreat after it’s done is all you have in acknowledging its passing.

The withdrawal is short. Johnny doesn’t move away. He keeps his hand on your cheek. The tip of his nose nearly brushing yours.

“Say it now,” he breathes, voice raspy.

“Johnny,” but it’s not what you intended to say.

He sighs. “Again.”

“Johnny.”

This time he groans, and then your lips are fusing, becoming one. You’re dragged off the floor and into his arms, tangling in his heat, forgetting yourself completely.

“Johnny,” you repeat, and then your shirt is gone, followed by your bra.

He nips at the curve of your breasts before sucking your nipple into his mouth. His teeth graze flesh and you say his name again until it becomes a strangled moan.

The front of your jeans is open, and his hand is there, cupping your sex, fingers dragging through your wetness.

“Johnny,” but it’s to stop him, to remind him that this cannot go on.

“Fucking hell. Love the way you say my name.”

This melts your resolve. Makes your legs spread wider. Makes you shove at your pants and create plenty of space.

Johnny knows. He understands.

He yanks them down even as he peppers your breasts with little nips and kisses. Your fingers drags through his hair as he sucks the other nipple into his mouth, bringing it to perky attention.

One finger slides inside, and you groan loudly, legs falling wide as Johnny settles himself between.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, claiming your mouth and pumping his finger. You whimper as he inserts a second. “Wanted you so bad.”

Your pussy flutters, squeezing around him. It is Johnny that groans this time, and it is a primal sound.

“Can I fuck you?” he asks. “Please.”

“Johnny,” you breathe. “Johnny.”

“Need a yes or no. Tell me. Do you want me? I’ve wanted you.”

You answer by finding him—guiding him to the place you need him to.

With a low growl, Johnny pins your arms above your head, slotting his pelvis against yours, the head of his cock sinking in until you’re taking all of him.

“Johnny!”

“That’s what I want to hear,” he croons, starting to thrust.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“I can’t tell what blood is yours and what isn’t.”

“Can fucking do it myself.”

“Ghost—”

“It’s not a problem.”

“Simon,” you snap, and he stops fidgeting.

Behind the plain balaclava, you see the fire in Lieutenant Riley’s eyes. This man is your superior. At least, right now he is. But the mission is done. It’s over. Yet the two of you are stranded, and making contact with Price is going to take time.

Not to mention that Simon is injured, and you have no fucking idea where at.

“Let me help you,” you say as soothingly as possible.

You don’t want to fight with him. All you want is to help Simon, to clean him up, and get him into bed. Rest and healing are what he needs right now. Contacting Price can wait. Base can stew for a while longer.

The two of you are in a motel room in the middle of fucking nowhere America. It’s shit overall, but it will have to do. There’s no way anyone is searching for the two of you out here. You drove until you nearly ran out of gas, and then you refilled and drove some more. Simon was in the back of the car, covered in blood.

But he was awake. Moving. Not a head injury, and not enough to get him immediate medical treatment. Not like he would have allowed you to take him to a hospital anyway. Lieutenant Riley is fucking stubborn. Sometimes infuriatingly so.

Simon stares, hard, his dark eyes intense behind the balaclava. He blinks, and then pushes up from the chair, keeping his gaze trained on you.

“Lieutenant,” you mutter, annoyed.

As Simon stands and attempts to take a step forward, his left leg wobbles, and he nearly topples forward. Your arms go out to catch him, holding him steady. He’s a big guy, and he seems to know this because he tries to prop himself up using the chair.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” you snap.”

“Listen—”

“I’m not arguing with you Simon Riley.”

Using his full name shuts him up. It’ll likely earn you a reprimand later, but fuck it, you’re over this.

“Stay there.” You shove him back down into the chair and head into the bathroom.

There is a single overhead light. Flipping the switch turns it on and the fan. It’s a tight space, but thankfully the shower isn’t also a tub. That would be a nightmare getting him in. Instead, there is a sink, a toilet, and a dividing wall that cuts the room in half. It’s more like a locker shower but it’ll work.

Reaching in, you turn the handle. You jump back as cold water shoots out of the shower head. After waiting for a few seconds, steam starts to rise.

You take a deep breath, knowing what you have to do. “You got this,” you murmur, heading back into the room.

Simon leans forward in the chair, forearms resting on his knees.

You hold out your hand. “Let’s go.”

Lieutenant Riley’s head swivels in your direction. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” you reply, holding firm. “Come on.”

With a deep sigh, Simon reaches out and slides his hand into yours. It’s warm. Calloused. You squeeze it and step forward, extending your other arm to wrap around his torso. Simon stands. Wobbles. But you snake your arm around him, and then it’s a slow trek into the bathroom.

Simon is limping, but he’s showing no other signs that his injury hurts him. Might be minor, or he’s just good at covering up the pain.

Once the two of you are inside the bathroom, you realize just how small the space is. Maneuvering Simon to the shower is difficult, a weird dance to wiggle around the door and toilet to the opening of the shower.

You retreat slightly, and Simon leans against the wall, his eyelids closing as he takes a deep breath.

“You good?” you ask, concern creasing your brow.

Simon nods. “I’ll manage.” His eyelids open slowly and then he stares into the shower. “You want me in there?”

“You’ll need to remove a few things first,” you reply, gesturing toward his uniform.

Simon snorts. “Trying to get me naked?”

“You wish,” you retort, even as your cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Need help?”

At first, Simon doesn’t say anything. He just reaches for his belt, removing it slowly with one hand.

“I’ll leave you to it,” you mumble, starting to turn away.

“Wait.”

You freeze, and then glance over your shoulder. “What is it?”

Simon shrugs. “What if I slip? Might need you to catch me.”

This bastard.

“Then I’ll stay,” you reply cooly, pretending that this doesn’t affect you.

But it does. It’s reshaping you, and Simon’s slow undressing isn’t helping things. He keeps his gaze on you the entire time, and you purposefully keep your eyes averted, when really you want to look. You want to know what he’s like under all that.

The belt goes. So does his tactical gear and jacket. Next is his shirt followed by his balaclava. You sneak a peek then, and Simon grins at you like he knew you’d look eventually.

“I’ll need some help with these. Getting them down that is.” Simon gestures towards his pants and you feel your face grow so hot you fear it might explode.

“Sure.”

You reach for him, silently chastising your shaking fingers. This is too much, even though you like it, and want more from it. You undo the button and zipper. Sliding your hands beneath the band, you shimmy Simon’s pants to the floor. He kicks them away and all that’s left are his boxer briefs. They’re tight and you notice the massive bulge in front.

Fuck.

“You can do the rest,” you reply, glancing away.

Simon removes them, and then he starts forward, arms outstretched to balance himself as he enters the shower.

“Fucking hell,” moans Simon as the hot water hits his body.

The groan that comes after is deep, and so sultry you feel a bolt of pleasure spike from your pussy.

“Should join me.”

“No thanks,” you say, averting your gaze away from Simon’s muscled backside.

One moment you’re facing the wall, and the next you’re under the spray of water.

“What the fuck,” you shriek, stumbling backward as Simon chuckles. Muttering under your breath, you stare down at your soaked clothing. “Goddamn it.” You start removing articles of clothing, the wet fabric peeling away from your skin.

“Fucking fine, Simon.”

You shed everything and storm under the spray, only for Simon to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you against him. There is no pause between then and the moment his lips find yours. It is sweet, and warm. You instantly melt, enjoying every second.

But it’s fleeting.

You draw back, heart hammering in your chest.

“You’re covered in blood. Remember?”

Simon shrugs and then offers you the soap. “Clean me then.”

You do it, and when you’re done, he does the same for you. It’s far too intimate, and Simon’s gentleness is surprising. Once finished, you dry and bandage the wound on his leg. It’s not terrible—and will likely need stitches—but it’s not bleeding anymore.

The singular bed in the middle of the room is far too small. Not with Simon in at, spread out and naked under the sheets.

You slide in beside him, not knowing where you should settle. Simon is large, taking up most of the best. The only place is curled up next to his side.

Turning your resolve to steal, you settle in. You begin to turn away from Simon, but his arm shoots out, grasping your waist. You’re yanked across the bed, only to find yourself in Simon’s arms.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Stop pretending, love. We both know what’s going on. Don’t deny it.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Simon—”

“We’ve been making eyes at each other for fucking months. And now we’re alone. You think I don’t see the opportunity?”

Simon’s hand slides over the curve of your ass, and then dips beneath your shirt. You’re not wearing underwear, and when his fingers brush over your pussy, you gasp, pressing into him.

“You’re already wet for me,” growls Simon as he drags a finger through your folds. “So fucking wet.” He presses in, and your pussy parts for him.

“We can’t, Simon. You’re injured.”

“Not so much,” he coos. “Especially since I can do this.” On this, Simon drags the tips of his finger along the inside your pussy, hitting that sweet spot.

You moan, fingers digging into his chest as your back arches to press you further down on him.

“It’s just my leg that’s injured.” Simon’s lips brush against your cheek and then the edge of your ear. His breath is warm against your skin. “I can still fuck you. Have you on top. Bounce you on my cock.” Simon gives the curve of your ear the faintest kiss. “Would you like that, love? Do you want me to fuck you?”

“We—we—”

With his other hand, Simon grasps the back of your neck, drawing you against him, silencing whatever it is you’re trying to say. He seizes your mouth in a fierce kiss. You open for him, and his tongue slides inside. He tastes nice, and you want to sink into the feeling. Have him devour you completely.

“Let me in,” he murmurs against your lips.

You push up, doing exactly as he wants you to do. You settle on his lap, his hard cock pressed up against your thigh.

With a low growl, Simon removes your shirt, leaving you completely bare to his gaze.

“Much better,” he says, cupping your breasts as you lean on his chest, lifting your hips.

His cock slides through your folds, and then you start the descent, moaning as he splits you in two. The stretch is intense—nearly sharp with pain, but laced with pleasure. Simon’s eyelids flutter slightly, and his groan is pure sin.

Simon lightly squeezes your breasts one more time before his hands find your hips. He lifts you up, and then back down, bouncing you on his cock. You cling to him, allowing him to use you, to fuck you in whatever way he wants.

Each grunt and growl from him only makes you wetter. Hungrier.

“I’m gonna come inside you.”

It’s not a question. There is no other option, and you wouldn’t take anything else even if there was.

“Please,” you whimper.

Simon’s hands tighten, his hips thrusting upward to meet every downward movement. He sits up, his mouth clamping around a nipple to nip and suck. Your orgasm roars up from nowhere, and then you’re clenching around him, milking Simon’s cock as his own end greets him.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

[chaossturns]

Hii!! can you do chris x f!reader where she posts on tiktok to the audio that goes “give bitch sum head or sum” and chris sees it and takes her up on it?? tag me if u do it pls!!

𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐒𝐔𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐌 | 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

⋆⑅˚₊ — synopsis: you filmed a tiktok to the sound “give a bitch sum head or sum” while Chris is filming but he sees it while he’s out, so what will happen when he comes home?

⋆⑅˚₊ — pairing: chris sturniolo x poc!reader

⋆⑅˚₊ — warnings: oral (fem!receiving) , use of pet names , swearing , face riding , slight fluff & aftercare , established relationship , and overstimulation

a/n: i loved writing this request so much, also thank you for 100 followers ! 👅

a/n 2: join the taglist , ts looking empty 🫡

⋆⑅˚₊ — word count: 1.5k

not proofread

You were sitting at Chris’s desk, Tiktok sounds filling the emptiness of his room as you scrolled. Chris was currently out with his brothers filming a video, leaving you to be bored and alone.

While scrolling you stop on a video, the sound intriguing you. It was the beginning of the song “Slob on My Ckat” , the lyrics being “Give a bitch sum head or sum.”

You get up from Chris’s desk, walking into his bathroom and looking into the mirror. You place your phone on the counter, putting all your focus on your hair, fluffing it out a bit. You then pick up your phone, getting a good angle through the mirror.

As you film, you save some as drafts, and have different options to choose from. You finish up, heading to Chris’s bed, sitting up by the headboard.

While sitting there you start to go through the multiple takes, figuring out which one is posting worthy. You find the best video out of the bunch, captioning it, then posting it.

The fans knew you and Chris were together, so you got a lot of recognition on your Tiktok account. Some fans were not really fond of yours and Chris’s relationship, but it didn’t really bother you.

You get up from the bed and go upstairs, wanting a snack and a drink. Upon opening the fridge, your eyes wander throughout the various drink options. Lyrical lemonade decorating the shelves, along with pepsi, root beer, and water.

You grab a watermelon lyrical lemonade, going to the cabinets to get a bag of popcorn, and venture your way back down to Chris’s room.

Before sitting down on his bed, you grab his tv remote off his dresser, thinking about what to watch. You pick out the movie “Get Out” by Jordan Peele. The movie proceeds, but your phone is blowing up with notifications from Tiktok

Opening the app, your notification box is filled with likes and comments. You go and view your Tiktok, reading some of the comments as well.

likes: 106.4k Comments: 10.1k Shares: 120

comments:

@ christophersturniolo

- 👀

@ lucy50

- omg you’re so pretty 😍

@ sturniolofan111

- AHHH CHRIS COMMENTED

@ spam.jess

- lord chris is lucky 😩

You took notice of Chris’s like and comment, not thinking much of it since it was normal for him to do so. Getting more comfortable under his covers, you put your phone down and regain your focus on the movie.

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕

Me, Matt, and Nick were out filming a video. Nick’s timer had gone off, meaning we had to reset the camera. While doing so, I opened Tiktok, browsing through my following.

I came across my girlfriends video, listening to the audio, and smirking to myself. I liked and commented as usual, looking at how good she looked. An idea came to my head, now wanting to hurry up and get home.

Matt bangs on the window, telling me to look up from my phone and face the camera.

“Chris and Nick look towards me!” Matt yells, his voice slightly muffled since he’s outside. Me and Nick just look at each other, wondering where such anger came from.

Matt then walks to the driver side, getting into the car, and fixing his hair while doing so.

“So where were we?” Nick asks, wanting to get back on track with the video. I left him unanswered, impatiently wanting to go home.

We talked for about 10 more minutes before putting the camera up and making our way towards our apartment. I texted my girlfriend that we were on the way home, placing my phone in my lap, and glancing out the car window.

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐕

You get a notification on your phone, causing you to jump as you were absorbed into the movie. The text was from Chris saying he was on his way home. You grab the remote and pause the movie, getting up and using the bathroom.

Coming out of the bathroom, you collect your trash, and throw it away in the trash can in Chris’s room. You lay back down in the bed, grabbing your phone and scrolling through instagram.

A couple of minutes later you hear the garage door open and close, signifying the triplets were back home. You continue to be on your phone, waiting for Chris to come into his room.

You hear his bedroom door open and shut, footsteps coming closer to the bed. You look up from your phone and smile at Chris, getting out of bed, and giving him a hug.

“I’ve missed you too baby.” Chris says, gripping that back of your thighs, and hoisting them around his waist. You press a kiss to his lips, Chris using his free hand to grasp around your neck.

You pull away, smiling as you climb out of his arms. Turning away from Chris, you plop back onto the bed. But Chris doesn’t come and lay down he just stares at you, his blue eyes becoming intoxicating.

“Chris, why are you looking at me like that?” You question him, he just smirks and comes closer to the bed.

“Y’know I saw your video right?” He asks, you slowly nod, trying to understand the connection between this. He grabs onto your ankles, pulling you even closer to him.

“Chris what are you doing?” you ask, becoming flustered from all of this.

“Hmm, how did the audio go?” he taps his index finger against chin, making it seem like he’s deeply pondering about something. “Give a bitch sum head or sum?” He asks again, causing you to finally understand what’s going on.

Chris is now on his knees at the foot of the bed, stripping you of your jean shorts, leaving you in your pink laced underwear. He opens your thighs, peppering kisses to the left and right, slowly moving closer to the clothed cunt.

You sigh out, enjoying the feeling of his lips dancing across your thighs. You begin squirming as his lips get closer to your core, making Chris grip onto your hips to prevent you from doing so.

Chris plants a hot, wet kiss upon your covered clit. You whimper out, just wanting Chris’s lips on your leaking core.

“Please Chris.” you whine out, looking down at him between your thighs.

“What do you want, baby?” He asks, now sucking on the inside of your thighs, creating hickeys.

“I need your mouth against me please.” you say, sifting your fingers through his brunette locks. Chris then proceeds to peel your underwear off of you, stuffing them into his pocket.

His lips finally attach to you core, you dragging out a loud moan from your throat. Chris’s tongue leaves long licks to your slit, slipping it into your soaked hole from time to time.

“Oh, shit Chris.” you yank his hair that’s tangled in between your fingers , resulting in him groaning out into your pussy. Chris then begins to suck on your clit, the knot in your stomach becoming more apparent.

You rock your hips into Chris’s face, his nose hitting your sensitive bud every time you do so.

“Mmm, Chris i’m close.” you sigh out, Chris now increasing the speed of his tongue.

“Cmon, give it to me mama.” Chris mumbles into you, making a rush of pleasure cascade over your body as you cum.

Chris doesn’t give you time to rest, he gets up from his kneeling position, lays his head by the head board, and pulls you over his mouth.

You feel his mouth enclose around your dripping cunt, your hand automatically gripping the headboard due the vast amount of pleasure. Chris moves his hands around your hips, tightly holding onto them as he moves them against his face.

“Fuck Chris!” you say, a moan flowing from your mouth. You throw your head back, leaving your mouth agape, overwhelmed by all of this.

“Is it too much baby?” he asks, you whine out in response. The sound of Chris slurping up your juices filled your ears, driving you completely overboard.

“C-c-can’t take it anymore Chris.” you say, slightly lifting your hips away from Chris’ lips. He then goes to wrap his arms around your thighs, keeping you trapped above his mouth.

“You taste so fucking good, just give me one more please?” he asks, continuing his torturous assault on your pussy. You collect his hair back into your hand, moans and whimpers leaving your lips as your second orgasm begins to take over.

Your breathing becomes heavy, now releasing your cum all over Chris’ face. He cleans you up, not leaving any left over cum.

You fall to the side of Chris, looking into his face and giving him a lazy smile as you see your juices glistening off him in the light. He gets up, grabs a warm towel, and cleans off your thighs.

He then grabs another pair of your underwear and one of his hoodies, and puts them on you. You slide underneath the covers, your body sore. Chris then comes next to you, wrapping your legs around his waist as you snuggle into his neck.

for - @ellaynaa 🔥

tags: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @sturnsslut @bigbeefybitch @rileysturniolo @itsnotmariahh @summerssover @l0ver-i @thenickgirl

[grahstumhurts]

1. Ignition

Cheerleader!Megan x Loser Band Member!Reader

a/n - n/n basically means nickname

Rekindling Masterlist

“Hey” Lara waves a hand over your face “You good? Zoned out for a good five minutes. Anything you wanna talk about?” She questions the look on your face, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. Noticing the deepness in your thoughts in the way your face had scrunched up.

“I'm good, Dont worry about me.” You shrug her hand off your shoulder, standing up to put your guitar strap on. “What are we working on today?” All four of your band had gathered in Dani’s garage, which had become a tradition ever since forming your quartet. Meeting up every Tuesday and Thursday to work on music together, With Lara as vocals, Dani as bass, Yoonchae on drums and You on guitar and main songwriter. 

“We are voting on prom performance songs” Dani grins, “As the leader of our band, I say we should do either Still into you or Fender. if your done that is.”

“Either one works for me.” Yoonchae chimes in, quietly tuning her drum kit.

“I'm down to sing still into you” Lara shrugs and looks over at me expectantly. “What bout’ you? Still into you fits your vibes currently since you're still not over megan.” Dani slaps Laras arm, “Ow what its true!” She rubs her arm. 

“Fenders my vote, Dani?” you glance over at dani who is still glaring at Lara. “For the record I'm over her.” You go back to playing around with your pick, One that Megan had given you when you were kids. A pink hello kitty one with her worn out initials on the back. 

“You still using that pick says a lot, Yn” Dani scoffs “But i can ask if we do both? I’m sure Ms Grant wont mind us doing two” She shrugs, 

“Well some of the lyrics on fender need some reworking since i haven't finished it.” you add in, “I’m like, 80% done though. Shouldn't take too long” you glance into your notebook, the lyrics scribbled in, varieties of different coloured pens from when you had woken up and scribbled something down. You hand it over to Lara, who takes a quick read and nods. 

“This is probably some of your best work so far, Personally.” She smiles, “No offence to the other songs in this tragedy of a notebook”

“None taken, Some of those were horrid” You chuckle. “Lets work on still into you first though, I’ll finish up fender in the next couple of days.” You strum your guitar to check its tuning before turning on the amp. 

-

Wednesdays were always the worst. You shared one class with Megan and that was Psychology. On Wednesdays Psych was always first period, which means you had to see her with Greg. Greg is an asshole to say the least, He always teases Yoonchae, who's a sophomore while he's a Senior. Calling her a bunch of racist slurs and other things cause she's a transfer student from Korea, Not sure he realises Megan is also Asian. Pretty fucking ironic honestly. Greg always flirts with Megan any chance he gets. It's hard not to pay attention to his poor attempts at flirting with her when he's so bad at it. 

You sit in your regular spot waiting for Ms Ginberg, You open up your notebook and work on changing up some of the lyrics that didn't work. 

“Im hiding in the trunk im crossing my legs,” You mumble under your breath, “What's another word for crossing?” You rub your forehead as you repeat your question aloud.

“Pretzeling is a good word. If that's what you're looking for?” Megan stands by your desk, Close enough to notice the scent of oranges and persimmons, Her favourite fruits. “You write music now, That's pretty cool, N/n” She smiles at you, as if she hadn't been ignoring you for the past year.

“Thanks,” You avoid eye contact with her, scribbling down the word in place of crossing. “I'm hiding in the trunk, I'm pretzeling my legs. Sounds a lot better.” 

“Whats this song even about?” She questions you, looking into your notebook glancing around at the different lyrics. 

“Its nothing, just something i'm working on” You hastily close the book and shove it into your bag. “Since when do you care what i'm doing?” You scoff under your breath as Ms Ginberg walks in, Megan returns to her normal seat next to Greg with a slightly hurt expression.

-

Class goes as usual, Ms Ginberg teaches nothing, Greg flirts with Megan,Ms Ginberg assigns you way too much homework, and the list goes on. You gotta give it to Greg, he is persistent. Megan comes up behind you after class ends, Taps your shoulder to get your attention.

“Hey, Can we talk after school?” She asks, with a seemingly large amount of sincerity “I owe you an apology and an explanation.”

“What makes you care now?” You cross your arms over your chest and give her a disappointed look “You haven't seemed to care for two years, Megan.” It hurts to call her that when you’ve known her for all your life as Meg or Meimei. 

“Look, Just hear me out. You don't have to do anything afterwards, I'll leave you be. But just take a chance on me okay?” She pleads with you.

“Fine, I’ll meet you outside the gate and we’ll talk there.” You sigh deeply, “I’ve gotta go to my next class. I’ll see you around, Megan” You walk off, knocking your shoulders together as you push past her to your second class of the day. Lara ambushes you on your way to your shared ceramics class. 

“So, what's the deal with you and Megan anyway?” She gives you a knowing look “If you're not over her just say so, Saw you talking to her earlier.”

“She wanted to talk, I dunno what about but it seems important I guess.” You shrug “I’m not entirely sure if I'm totally over her now.” You sigh again and Lara rolls her eyes

“I knew it, Dude, seriously its not that embarrassing as you think.” She pushes your shoulder playfully “First girl crushes be like that for real.” she laughs after her last comment.

A/n EEEK SO HAPPY WITH HOW THIS FIRST CHAPTER CAME OUT WOOOWOWOOO

[pahtoosh]

the greatest form of flattery

[image ID: a gif of lloyd hansen smugly saying “right back at ya, sunshine” to a phone. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: ~1300 words

warnings: lloyd picks you up like a lot, play fighting, bad word(hell)

a/n: my first lloyd fic! I truly don’t know what came over me—I’ve never even seen the movie. I just thought this idea was so cute and then I had so many more ideas about the dynamic lloyd would have with his little! lots of play fighting and teasing(and kisses because it’s me🤭)

pairing: lloyd hansen x gn!little!reader

summary: Lloyd’s little finds a fake mustache.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

There was little you could do to bother your Daddy. Lloyd reserved all of his patience and understanding for you. You were his little love, so precious and pure. In his eyes, anything you did came from only the best intentions. He could brag for hours about how he had the best little to ever exist, and he taught you scarcely a thing about manners. You were naturally that sweet.

You were grateful that your needs coincided with what Lloyd could give you. Your rowdy days came out when he had more energy to spare chasing you around the yard. Your quiet days fell when he was exhausted from work and only wanted to cuddle in your home’s library, speaking in hushed tones as you escaped into worlds of fantasy. But there were some days when you sought mischief. You just hoped that your Daddy was in the mood to be silly too.

The day before, you attended a birthday party for one of your little friends. It was rare that Lloyd let you partake in events like this. His protective instincts went into overdrive when you showed him the invitation. Rather than giving in to his desire to hide you away, he fell for your pleading eyes and RSVP’d under the condition that he could come along and keep a close eye on you.

An afternoon of bounce castles, water balloons, and party games left you totally knocked out. You fell asleep in the ball pit, and Lloyd climbed in not long after. He scooped you up, resting your tired head on his shoulder as he carried you to the car. He accepted the gift bag from the party host on the way out, deciding that he could also use it to hold the shoes you had taken off before diving into the ball pit.

Feeling refreshed and awake the next day, you were delighted to see the gift bag on your nightstand accompanied by your morning note from Lloyd. He wrote that the package was from your little friend and that you could open it while you waited for him to finish his meetings. You gave his signature a kiss, then placed the note alongside your collection of every note Lloyd had ever written you. He left your little watch on the nightstand too. It was the same shape as your daddy’s, but customized to fit your wrist, and it displayed a digital clock instead of an analog. The screen also had little icons that lit up during snack or nap time. You carefully put on your watch just like how your daddy taught you.

The gift bag was calling your name now. It was simply made of paper, the cartoon animal design being its only saving grace under the scrutinizing eyes of a little. The tissue paper was mostly squished, but it called to you all the same. You dumped out the contents onto your desk, excited to see what you would play with first.

There were the typical favor bag items: stickers, a bouncy ball, and a tiny plastic soldier with a parachute. The bag also had a few little games and snacks. You separated the candy from the bunch and made a mental note about which ones you wanted to eat after lunch. As for the toys, you started with a sticky hand, promptly losing it to your ceiling. The mini dog-shaped puzzle was simple, yet fun. The underwater ring toss tested the last of your patience, but the ball maze lifted your spirits once more.

There were still a few minutes left until Lloyd finished his meeting and you had already played with all the toys in the bag. Or so you thought. You held the gift bag upside down and shook it one last time, hoping for a magical little toy to distract you during your daddy’s absence. Your wish came true when a fuzzy little thing plopped out. It resembled a caterpillar so much, you half expected it to move. Upon further inspection, it wasn’t a fuzzy little creature. It was a fake mustache!

Just like daddy, you thought. You giggled to yourself imagining Lloyd’s reaction to your new look. You carefully peeled away the paper backing and stood in front of the mirror to place the mustache under your nose. The plastic hair tickled a bit, making you sneeze a couple of times. Once you shook yourself off, you practiced a few poses mimicking Lloyd’s stance. His back was always straight, and he sometimes walked with his hands behind as if he were in a museum, which looked extra silly when he was just heading to the kitchen. He also checked his watch with a certain flair and spoke with his head cocked to the side when he was in a teasing mood.

As you checked your little watch, you realized that Lloyd’s meeting would finish soon. You ran towards his office, avoiding the edges of the hallway’s carpet runner because it had a habit of tripping you. Lloyd was closing the door behind him as you barreled towards his form.

“Hey there, honey. What’s got you running like crazy, huh?” He kissed the top of your head and patted you on the back. He hadn’t noticed the mustache yet because you ran with your head tilted downwards for extra speed and hugged his legs instead of jumping into his arms.

“Missed you, Daddy,” you said, your voice muffled by his slacks.

“Aw, how sweet. Come up here, baby. Do you want some kisses?” He lifted you up, doing a double take when he saw your new accessory.

“Is that-“ Lloyd cut off his own sentence as he burst into laughter. He hugged you close and gave you a few kisses in between his chuckles.

You beamed. “Do you like it, Daddy?”

Lloyd nodded, pursing his lips to contain his laughter.

“Now I look like you!”

“Hey now, Daddy’s mustache looks nothing like that,” he defended.

“Does so!” You wiggled out of his arms and struck one of the poses you had practiced. “If you wanna make an omelet-“

“Alright, that’s enough outta you.” Lloyd lifted you up and blew a raspberry on your stomach, making you squeal.

“Da- aahh! That tickles!”

“Shame,” he teased, continuing his attack.

You tousled in Lloyd’s arms until he had to readjust his grip. Using this moment of weakness, you poked his ribs, making him fall dramatically to the floor with you in his arms. He laid there breathless for a moment and was about to sit up before you placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back down.

“I got you.”

“Hell yeah you did, baby.” Lloyd took a breath. “Pinned your Daddy down. Good job, sweetie.” He patted your thigh, wondering if he’d taught you that move during your self defense lessons or if you’d learned it somewhere else. His train of thought was interrupted but a scratchy feeling on his cheek, followed by a soft pucker.

“Did you just give Daddy a kiss?”

“Uh huh!” You did it again on his other cheek. This time, Lloyd couldn’t hide the uncomfortable look on his face.

“Is that how it feels when Daddy kisses you? All scratchy from the mustache?”

“Um.” You touched your mustache as you thought, looking somewhat like a cartoon villain. “Yeah, a little scratchy.”

Lloyd held your free hand in his. “Is it too scratchy? Do you want Daddy to shave off his mustache?”

You shook your head, clinging desperately to him. “No! I love Daddy’s mustache!”

“You do?” he asked.

“Uh huh! Makes Daddy handsome and makes Daddy kisses special!” You demonstrated by pointing to your forehead.

Lloyd sat up and tentatively placed a kiss where you directed, repeating the motion when you wiggled happily.

“See?”

“Okay, honey. Daddy’ll keep his mustache, and you can keep yours too. In a box. Save it for Halloween.”

[sassypotatoe1]

Survival guide for the adhd/depressed/autistic newly established office worker:

Brought to you by a depressed adhd autistic who took 10 months to adjust to office life after starting to work their first full time job.

Food:

We all have trouble with food, no denying it, so how do you manage it? Well there's a couple of ways depending on your individual needs.

If you're like me and you will end up just not eating if you don't have food immediately accessible, keep a snack drawer. Empty an entire drawer in your desk, buy a combination of healthy and less nutritious snack food that's shelf stable in bulk. I typically get a bunch of packets of like two types of potato chips/crisps, a bunch of single serving packets of salted peanuts, single serving packets of dried fruit flakes because the solid dried fruit are a sensory nightmare, and a bag of lollipops. By 10ish when I need my first snack I pop a lollipop, and if I didn't pack lunch I have access to fiber, protein, fat and carbs.

I also sniffed around for a couple of months to find the best deal on safe food takeout, ie a meal that's filling, relatively balanced, cheap and fits my texture and taste sensitivities. When it gets too expensive I find another one. Once a week I allow myself to get that if I didn't pack lunch so I don't end up spending all my money on takeout but still get to eat well enough.

If you're concerned about overeating or eating less nutritious food, get nutritious safe food options. They're typically a bit more expensive and a bit less shelf stable, I keep instant soup with freeze dried veggies in my drawer in the winter, and I have a tub of ensure to make shakes if I feel I'm missing out on some nutrients. Focus more on dried fruits, pretzels, nuts, instant food with veggies and nutrient loaded fruit juice. Get ensure if you can afford it. In a limited way it can act as a nutritious meal replacement, but I mean limited as in once or twice a week. Do not replace all your meals with a nutrition shake.

When you buy fresh produce, process it immediately before it goes into the fridge/freezer. Don't let that head of lettuce wilt and rot. Pull it apart, wash it off, put what you're not using immediately in a ziploc in the freezer if it freezes, and put the rest open in the produce section of your fridge. Not only will it already be ready to use when you use it, if it's not in a bag or container where the moisture is trapped it remains fresh for longer. That or if you can afford it buy pre-processed produce, divide it into serving portions, freeze what can be frozen.

Buy. Ready. Made. Meals. I know microwave dinners are the butt of the depression joke but they're literally life-saving, because when I was really struggling with my depression and ARFID microwave dinners were my only source of nutrition for a while and it literally kept me from actually dying. Do not be ashamed to meet your needs.

Stimming:

Keep some of your fidget toys or stimming items at your desk. I keep my tangle and fidget cube there so I don't pick my eyebrows to hell and back. It doesn't always work but it's better than nothing. Keep chewing gum in your car. Chewing tricks your brain into thinking you're eating, which tells your sympathetic nervous system that you're safe. It helps you focus better on driving and keeps you a bit calmer making your reaction times faster and less impulsive.

Reminders:

Keep a pad of sticky notes on your desk, preferably a neon color, and all the pens you own that you don't care about losing. Set a reminder on your phone calendar, your computer calendar, your email calendar, on a sticky note on your wall, and in your physical diary. No chance of forgetting something if you do that, because you can't miss all of them.

Take some time to figure out your grocery list. What do you typically need in a month? Make a printout of that grocery list and keep it on your fridge and your phone, along with a monthly or weekly calendar reminder to go grocery shopping. Before you head out check what you still have plenty of and preemptively check it off on your phone list so you don't accidentally buy too much of something.

Keep a "what's in my fridge" log on your fridge. It makes you more aware of what's in there, how long it's been in there, and whether you should throw it out or eat it or leave it. Keep a chart of how long foods hold in the fridge beside that log. The log lists what is in the fridge, when it went into the fridge, when the product seal was broken, and the expiry date of the product. No more moldy fridge food.

Miscellaneous:

Assign care tasks to another task that's already a regular habit. Keep your morning meds by the kettle, and make taking out a dose part of the process of making your morning coffee. Pick a task you do daily at work, usually in the morning, and assign wearing your glasses to that task. I need my glasses to proofread the print dummies because the font isn't very friendly, so I accidentally got into the habit of making putting on my glasses part of the proofreading process. Brushing teeth is part of makeup. Showering is part of getting dressed. It's easier to complete these tasks if I don't view them as seperate tasks, but rather as steps in a different task that comes more naturally to me.

I keep sticky notes and pens in my car, as well as in my purse when I use it, so I can make notes of things when I need to. Car care notes go on stickies when I notice the need, then I'm reminded of it every time I'm in the car. I typically don't even have to read the note, I see that there is one and usually remember what it was about. This helps me remember what I need to do to maintain my car, because I have gotten in an accident and forgotten about it and drove around with a warped front fender for a month. I currently have a sticky note to get my tire pressure checked when I go home from work tonight on my dash.

That's all I have but TL:DR allow yourself to meet your needs without shame, no matter how strange or childish they seem, and find loopholes to your behavior for the best outcome for your health, safety and productivity. Like I said in the intro it took me 10 months to figure out these, so don't be afraid to take the time to figure out what works for you. It'll be absolutely worth it.

[haruhar-u]

Just your average CEO novel yep definitely

CWs: Alcohol usage, cursing, drawn out suggestive conversation (humorously), one character mentions throwing up but doesn’t actually

Co-written with @chocolate-cat-bread and a friend that doesnt have tumblr

taglist: @edith-is-a-cat @the-banana-0verlord @angelhairpastawithherbs @v-anrouge @twistwonderlanddevotee @ferris-the-wheel @twst-om-lover @xen-blank @whspermy-name @cheezy-moon (lmk if you wish to be added or removed)

definition of chinese words used

Chapter one

The first thing I heard when I woke up was the song “Sweet Home Alabama” blaring loudly from my phone, but in Mandarin, and that was all I needed to throw off the covers and turn off the alarm, cursing my past self for losing a bet with my cousin and ending up with this ringtone. 

I checked the time and sure enough, it was 6:30. I was expected to be at work by 7:00 am.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna be late.” I quickly put my hair up in a messy bun and put on a white dress shirt, a beige plaid vest and a matching pencil skirt.

I hurried down the stairs, nearly tripping while I hastily shoved my socks on. It took all the self-control in me not to string a bunch of curses together that would make even a sailor flustered, as my socks were refusing to cooperate with me.

Once my socks weren’t threatening to slip off my feet, I headed to the kitchen to grab a slice of toasted bread and shove it in my mouth, before grabbing my shoulder bag and heading out the door.

It took me a while to unlock the car door, my head was all over the place after somehow getting the position as the CEO’s assistant. Apparently, the previous one had quit the job, leaving the position open to anyone with experience.

I applied mostly because I had experience in a few of my previous odd jobs, and also so I could finally put that degree to use. During the interview, I may have stumbled over my words quite a bit, and I was sweating profusely that I was pretty sure even the interviewer could tell.

While I was driving, I noticed two elderly people yelling at each other in the middle of the street. There were at least a dozen other cars that were stopped right in front of the arguing old people.

Why are they arguing on the street of all places? I wondered, not even irritated by the fact that I was probably not going to make it on time. More so concerned about the fact that they could get run over if someone wasn’t being careful.

“You BASTARD! I told you to wash the damn dishes, and yet here you are, eating fried donuts! Hiya!” The old lady yelled, yanking the old man by the ear, who held onto the fried donuts for dear life.

“I was going to get these fried donuts for you though, but clearly that doesn’t matter to you!” The old man snapped back.

The old lady looked even more pissed off than before, if that was even possible. “Why didn’t you do the dishes first before getting them, huh?!”

“Because the donuts were 50% off the original price, and it was the last hour before they went back to the original price, lah!” The old man said like it was the obvious thing to do. Chiu could see the logic in that, 50% off was a pretty good deal after all.

The old lady rolled her eyes, most likely used to these kinds of antics. “Fine, but only because 50% off is good deal lah, now come home and do dishes!” She then yanked the old man by the ear away from the street, ignoring his cries of pain.

I blinked, once, twice, processing the unusual yet somehow normal scene. That was… interesting. At least everything was resolved in the end, and fortunately, it didn’t seem like a domestic abuse case or anything, which is not very uncommon, much to the dismay of any normal person.

Traffic carried on as usual, and I managed to arrive at the building with at least ten minutes to spare. Patting down my hair and outfit, I walked in as professionally as I could, trying not to trip over my brand-new heels, while I headed to the front desk.

I immediately noticed a very pretty lady at the front desk, with her dark hair in a high ponytail, wearing a pale pink cardigan over her work attire.

“Oh uh, hi. I’m the CEO’s new uh…assistant.” I said and internally facepalmed myself for my blunder. First day on the job and I couldn’t even talk to my first colleague without stuttering like a fool.

The receptionist smiled, her eyes crinkling along with it. “You must be…ah, Lien Chiu? Nice name, by the way.”

I fidgeted, a bit flustered by the compliment. “Thanks, it’s um…I’m from rural Taiwan, we speak Hokkien there.”

The receptionist lady nods. “Figured as much, your accent gives it away. I’m Hujin, if you couldn’t tell already, I’m the receptionist, and I have to answer a bunch of phone calls and greet visitors and such.”

“Sounds interesting,” I say, trying to be polite. “So uh, where is the CEO’s office?”

“Ah, it’s on the 50th floor. For your sanity, you should take the elevator. About the CEO, he might be a bit busy…but I give you full permission to bother him.” Hujin winks, a mischievous smile on her face.

“Thank you.” I pretended to not notice the scheming grin on the smaller girl’s face.

She spun around in her chair. “Ah, no worries.” Hujin then paused, fixing her gaze on me like a cat. She pursed her lips together, rummaging through her purse before pulling out a pastel, rainbow star hair clip.

“Here,” She said quietly and tenderly, reaching over the desk and tucking the hair clip in my hair, pushing back my curtain bangs. I didn’t even know it was blocking my line of sight until she put it up for me. Why was it so warm all of a sudden? Why was she so close? Is there something wrong with me?

“Oh uh, th-“ I was about to say, but she waved it off.

“No need, now go on and bother my-the uh…CEO. Yeah.”

I nod, ducking my head as my thoughts swirled in my head and my heart raced at incredible speeds. If I had a strange look on my face the entire time I was in the elevator, no one commented.

The CEO had their office on the top floor in the corner. Stepping in, there was a fireplace adorned with various pictures of what seemed to be a family, and a bookshelf filled with books that looked like they were never read. There was a dark oak desk with a laptop placed on it. Behind the desk, there was a man who appeared to be in his mid to late twenties. His dark hair was mainly well kept with only a few strands astray. He wore a professional-looking suit. He was slumped over, holding his head up with his hand. He immediately perked up once he saw me. I could feel my heart beating rapidly again, and my breakfast threatening to somersault out of my stomach. I forced it back down, it would be really bad if I threw up right now.

“You must be my new assistant, correct? The last one quit after he went back to America…Oh, I’m Li Haoyu.”

“Yeah um,” I swallowed, trying to get myself to stop panicking. Stay calm, my mind unhelpfully supplied. “My name is uh…Chiu. So, is there anything I can help with? Like, um…paperwork?” I offered, trying not to sound as awkward and wrecked with nerves as I felt.

“I have my schedule in the printer.” He gestured to a fancy black printer against the back wall. “I think there might be some paperwork, I forgot to sign...not sure.”

I went to the printer and checked the inside, and sure enough, there was some unsigned paperwork. I take it out of the printer, find an empty seat and begin to sign the paperwork. It wasn’t much honestly, I just needed to sign using the company’s signature. The signature became less and less clear each time, probably because I was running out of ink.

Haoyu tapped me on the shoulder, interrupting my work, he was carrying a tray with tea on it with one hand. “Do you want a cup?”

“Oh, um, t-thank you so much.” I stammered, a bit flushed and reached out to take a cup of tea from the tray, almost dropping the cup from how shaky my hands were. I went back to signing paperwork, pressing my pen against the paper and frowning when no ink came out.

Haoyu was still there, sipping on his tea with a calm expression on his face. He looked very handsome, no doubt about it. The thought of approaching him, and disturbing him, made me more anxious than I already was.

I eventually sucked up the embarrassment, inching closer to him with the sad, inkless pen in my hand. “Um…excuse me…” I pushed on, despite Haoyu’s look of concern. “Do you have an extra pen or something? I-uh…the pen. Ran out of ink.”

He nodded, rummaged through one of the drawers of his desk and handed me a really expensive pen. “Keep it. Also, what meetings do I have for today?”

I flip through his schedule, trying to find the one that had the present one on it. “You have a meeting with two clients, they own a very wealthy private tech business. It says that they want to buy a license to sell a camera brand owned by this company. It says their names are uh…Yuen Zixuan and Huang Mingze?”

Haoyu let out a sigh. “Those two again?”

Surprise. “Wait, you know them?”

“I went to university with them…”

“Ah, I see. Am I required to come with you for this meeting?” I asked. I probably should have known if it was or not, but I may or may not have skimmed through the job description. So asking stupid questions it is.

“Not required, recommended, though.”  He probably wasn’t judging, yet it still felt like he was staring into my soul. I averted my gaze, looking at the floor, then the wall, then the wooden chair that was very, very interesting. Just so the man wouldn’t stare into my soul and figure out that my left sock had a massive hole where my ankle was.

Even though I wasn’t required, it was recommended, that was basically just another way of saying it was required, at least for overachievers like me. “I’m coming with, then,”

“Can you tell me exactly when this meeting is?”

I handed him the schedule and pointed at the timetable where the meeting takes place. “It’s at 9:30 am, so 2-3 hours or so from now.”

He nodded, “You can do whatever until then.”

“Okay, thanks.” I take a long sip of my tea, emptying the entire cup. ‘Is there…a sink nearby?” I chewed on my lip, wondering if I should even be asking. Maybe they didn’t use sinks, or maybe they had their own dishwasher because only rich people can afford dishwashers.

“Oh… I think in the staff room. Don’t worry about the cup, just leave it on the tray outside and someone will come pick it up to be cleaned.”

“Wait so I don’t have to wash it…? I mean…of course. Uh, sorry about that.” I make my way out of his office and to the staff room in embarrassment.

—-2-3 hours later—

“Hiii!” Mingze says

“Oh, uh, hello. How’s up? I mean life?” I rambled, my body at least five degrees hotter than normal from how nervous I was.

“Is Mr Li late again?” Zixuan asks, glancing down at a watch. He spoke with a Cantonese accent.

I shrug. ‘Probably. Is it normal for him to be late?”

“Yes, especially now that he doesn't have an assistant to wake him up.” Zixuan sighs. “He was notorious for being late in university.”

“Oh god, does that mean I have to be his personal alarm clock,” I grumble. “I did not sign up for this sh-to be a human clock.”

“Assuming you’re his new assistant, yes. Have fun, I was the human alarm clock 8 years ago” He says sarcastically. “Oh. He also tends to forget his wallet and phone often.”

I groan, burying my face in my hands. “So I’m going to have to be his human wallet too…”

“Luckily for you, that’s usually Huijin.” 

“The…pretty receptionist girl?”

“Yes. Don’t ask.” He checks his watch again and impatiently taps his foot.

Haoyu finally shows up 15 minutes later. “My apologies.” He takes a spot at the head of the table after pouring everyone a glass of either water or tea.

I pull the cup of tea closer to me, desperately needing an energy boost after navigating the hell that is buildings with 50 floors. “Apology accepted for now. So um, you said you wanted to buy the license for…this camera?” 

“Surely this could have been done in an email,” Haoyu says in an exasperated tone, rummaging for a piece of paper. 

“Didn’t get much sleep, did we?” Zixuan retorts, rolling his eyes. 

“Can we pretend to be civil for at least five minutes?!” I grumbled, before immediately realizing my mistake. Oh fuck. Is this really how I’m losing my job?

Haoyu clears his throat, using a fist to cover his mouth“Anyway, the licenses.” He hands Zixuan and Mingze two pieces of paper. “Sign here, then write a cheque then they’re yours.”

Mingze immediately grabs a pen and signs both cheques. “Thanks, dude! You’re the best!”

Zixuan elbows Mingze in the ribcage. “Did you seriously not read the fine print? We could be selling our souls for all we know “

“Fine print? Wait uh…oops.” Mingze said sheepishly.

“I understand, you’re not the only one who doesn’t read the fine print,” I admitted. I wasn’t quite sure what possessed me to admit something like that out loud. Maybe I was just really stupid.

Haoyu rose from his seat, “Once you have finished going over the documents please give them to my assistant, I believe this meeting is dismissed.” He was oddly cranky.

“Okay, no need to be a grump,” Mingze said grumpily as he painstakingly read the documents. Sporadically, he would look to Zixuan, who would softly pat his back with a look of affection, and then throw his head into his arms in despair. I watched very concerned as Mingze looked like he was about to rip the documents apart.

“Here, I’ll read them.” Zixuan dragged the documents from Mingze towards himself with a finger. He spent about 5 long minutes reading before signing and pushing them over to me.

“Thank you. Uh, you can go now.” I took the papers, shuffled them in order and then put them in a folder to do later because I didn’t feel like doing it right now.

After finishing all the paperwork, which took a lot longer than it should have because my wrist pain started acting up again. I let out a sigh of relief, flex my wrist and do a quick stretch before checking my cellphone. I had a couple of unread emails that were mostly just junk files and a new...text message?

Li Haoyu: I apologize for my mood earlier, may I invite you to dinner after work with Hujin nd my brother to make up for it?

Lien Chiu: It’s alright :) and sure!

Lien Chiu: Where is the place?

Li Haoyu: It’s a hot pot place best in Shanghai, around 3 blocks down. I usually get a taxi.

Lien Chiu: Oh

Lien Chiu: What time do I arrive there? You said after work, but I would like a specific time, if that’s ok :)

Li Haoyu: Right after, I’ll pick you up from your office.

Lien Chiu: Ok thanks

I turn off my phone and turn on my laptop, where I mark a bunch of emails as read and play some music while I’m at it. 

Later, I hear a knock at my office door. “Miss Lien? Mr Li wanted me to tell you that the taxi is here” An employee called.

“Coming,” I called.

Outside there wasn’t a taxi but a limo instead and Haoyu was outside casually chatting with the driver and Huijin as if they were old friends. 

“Oh hey, Chiu! Come on in!” Hujin pats the seat beside her. “Sit next to me, please! I’m so much better than Haoyu.”

“Yeah sure.” Haoyu scoffs at Hujin with a smirk on his face.

Hujin sticks her tongue out at Haoyu. “I’m obviously cuter, and at least I don’t always forget my wallet. And my keys. And my phone.” She says teasingly.

“You two…seem close?” 

Haoyu bites his lip “Friends from college.” He says rather quickly. “Also speaking of forgetting my wallet and phone…”

“NOT AGAIN!” Hujin yelled, repeatedly whacking Haoyu with a pink bunny neck cushion, which made me snort with amusement.

“I’ll e-transfer you later tonight? I’m paying by the way.” He just stared deadpan at the pink bunny neck pillow, casually blocking it with his arm. 

Hujin just glared at him. “Fine.” She paused in her relentless attack on Haoyu with the neck pillow, before whacking Haoyu with a bear plush.

“Okay, you can stop beating him…” I said, attempting to grab the bear plush from Hujin. Every time I would try to grab it, she would shove the plush in my face, perhaps she was trying to use the fluffiness to distract me, which totally wasn’t working!!

Then the limo stops in front of this fancy-ass-looking restaurant. They got out of the limo, walked in and were seated by an oddly formal hostess. At the table was a guy who looked almost exactly like Haoyu, the only difference was this dude was dressed a lot more casually and his hairstyle was slightly different. 

“Are you by any chance made in a lab?” I blurted out, before immediately having the urge to descend into the earth’s core.

“Uh…pardon?”

I looked at Haoyu and Hujin, the former with an awkward smile on his face and the latter stifling her snickers with her hand covered over her mouth.

“Well, it’s just that…You look exactly like Haoyu. Except that your hair and clothes are a bit different.”

“We’re twins.” Haoyu points out.

I mentally facepalmed. “Ah. Right. Well,” I retorted, trying to defend my honour. “In my defence, you never know if someone is made in a lab or not.”

Hujin’s eyes darkened with mischief. “You’re right actually, both Haoyu and Huifen are made in a lab. I’m the one born the standard way.”

“Hey! Stop with the conspiracies!” Huifen interjected. 

Haoyu only rolls his eyes at Huijin’s comment, “All 3 of us were born because our parents had sex.”

“Yeah, well our parents had sex in a lab and then had you guys, meanwhile I was actually born in a hospital,” Hujin replied. Meanwhile, I was recovering from shock, at Hujin’s crude sense of humour, the way she took my joke and pushed it to the limit.

“Why are you more invested in this conspiracy than me?” I asked Hujin, very concerned for the way she seemed so dead set on her opinion. 

“Dad told me it was in a private jet ...For all 3 of us” Haoyu replies, his eyes scanning the menu. 

“What?!” Huifen, Hujin and I yelled at the same time. Hujin marched up to Haoyu and poked him in the chest.

“Are you being serious or silly?!” She said, staring up at him with a scowl on her face. It was really cute, honestly.

“Dad told me because I asked why there were drawers full of condoms.” Haoyu was probably serious as he didn’t even crack a smile.

“You guys can afford to make love in a private jet?!” I shrieked, pulling at my hair.

“You can’t?” Haoyu asks dumbfounded, staring right into my soul.

“Well, I’m sorry I don’t have a million dollars to spend on a private jet!” I retorted, exasperated and recovered from a culture and lifestyle shock.

“I could let you fuck in our private jet, wait what,” Huifen said nonchalantly.

“WHAT?!” I stared at Huifen. “I don’t even know how to fuck, let alone in a private jet! Is there, like a…difference?”

“I don’t know how to fuck either.” Haoyu replied bluntly. Hujin elbowed him again, sending him a deadpan glance.

“Aaaanyway, enough sex talk, and let’s eat. I’m starving and I’d rather not starve to death while the last thing I hear is about the differences between regular citizen sex and expensive private jet sex.” Hujin declared, putting her hands on her hips.

“Bitch, we didn’t even order any food yet. We scared the waiter off.” Huifen objected

Hujin glared at Huifen. “And who’s fault is that? You gotta stop projecting on me, gēge.”

“Wait hold on, you guys are siblings?” I exclaimed. Honestly, why was I even surprised? Even without the obvious slipup, I should have figured it out long before, it was basically hinted at me since Hujin told me to be a little shit to Haoyu when I first arrived, and the fact that they said their parents had sex. Fuck me.

“Yeah, it was kind of implied when we said that we were all from our parents having sex in a private jet,” Huifen states.

“Enough with the private jet sex!” Hujin shrieked, 

Haoyu’s gaze hardened, “Do not tell anyone.” Then his gaze softens again, “Besides dìdì, maybe she thought it was a gangbang.”

“I SAID ENOUGH SEX!!!” Huijin screamed even louder, which definitely made everyone sitting at neighbouring tables concerned. If they were not already, that is.

I hold my hands up in surrender. “Okay, I wasn’t going to anyway. Although…are you sure you trust me enough to not…slip up or something?”

Hujin grabbed my hands and I nearly jumped at the sudden touch. “Of course we trust you, silly goose! Besides, we’ll just pay them a million dollars to shut them up. Now,” She grabs all of us by the arms. “Let’s go order something before A PRETTY YOUNG LADY STARVES TO DEATH!!”

Haoyu waves down a waiter and puts in an order. The waiter looks at all of them with an odd look, before gasping.

“No way! You must be…you must be Haoyu, CEO of Revocorp! And you look, wait no, are you Huifen! I love your cosplays so much! Woah,” The waiter does a double take at Hujin, who was dressed in a pink strawberry cardigan, a pastel rainbow-striped gown and brown Uggs. “Aww, aren’t you adorable!”

“Thank you!” Hujin beamed. Her smile is also cute…I think with a pang of jealousy.

“No problem, ah right, your orders?” The waiter pulls out a pen from their ear and a notepad, ready to write down our orders.

“Chiu, do you drink?” Haoyu asks.

“I drank vodka once…? Does that count?” I say.

Haoyu turns to the waiter “This set.” He says, pointing to a certain spot on the menu. Then he leans in to whisper something to the waiter “And a bottle of your most expensive wine plus 4 glasses.”

“WHAT! HOW ARE YOU AFFORDING ALL THIS?!”

“Money.”  

I glared. “Yeah, I know that, you dunce. But like, wha-we never had this back home! Oh, wait, do I have to pay my share or…” I search through my wallet, and well…I had a couple of coins, two $20 bills…and my credit card which was definitely going to expire soon.

He puts his hand on mine, “Don’t worry about it”

“Oh…” My brain short-circuited for a good moment before smiling shyly. “Thanks.”

A fit of giggles erupted from Hujin, who was shaking in her seat from laughter. Huifen nudged her, but she continued to laugh. Her laugh immediately dropped to a frown when she found that the waiter put down kids utensils, with the Doraemon bowl and colored cutlery.

“Is this…oh this has to be a joke,” Hujin grumbled.

Haoyu meanwhile was smirking at Huijin’s grumble. Wait, wasn’t he whispering to the waiter earlier?

“I think it was Haoyu’s doing,” I told Hujin, who immediately stood up and glared down at Haoyu.

“You! It was your idea for them to give me children’s cutlery! This is ruining my reputation! And I’m 26!” Hujin shrieked dramatically, miming stabbing Haoyu in the throat with the plastic knife.

“I mean…” I say, as an attempt at being a devil’s advocate. “Kids menus are cheaper?”

Hujin scrunched her nose at me before scowling at Haoyu. “You jerk! You know damn well that you can afford 3 adult meals! You could afford this entire restaurant!”

“Baby sister for a reason.” Haoyu shrugs, brushing her off.

“I’m 26…” Hujin pouts. I pat her on the back comfortingly.

“There there, some of us are just born to look like 12-year-olds.” I teased.

“Not you too!” Hujin wailed dramatically, grabbing onto my sweater vest. “You were on my side, I trusted you…and you just betrayed me…were we ever meant to be?”

I grin. “What are you, a theatre kid?”

“I took drama in high school.” She props her chin on her hands. “Guess it never wore off.”

Then the waiter shows up with a bottle of fine wine and Haoyu gracefully pours a glass for everyone at the table, even making sure to put some in the coloured cup that Huijin had.

“Okay not gonna lie, this cup is actually kinda cute.” Hujin says as she stares at the wine in her coloured cup.

The waiter shoots a glance at Hujin and she sighs, pulling out her ID card. After a few moments, the waiter nods and leaves her drink alone.

“Does that happen often?”

“Yes.” All three of them say, all at once. 

“Used to happen to Haoyu and I before last year.” Huifen sighs. “We’re getting old.”

Hujin rolled her eyes. “Tell that to the middle-aged and seniors, they’ll think you’re crazy. Although…” she grins mischievously. “Are you sure none of you have back pain?

“We’re 27,” Haoyu mutters. “I am hunched over at a desk all day though.”

I nudged Haoyu. “I have wrist pain, so I guess you’re not alone. Probably since I’ve been writing every day for over 5 hours since I was a teen.’

Hujin took a swig from the sippy cup of wine. “Woah, body pain. Couldn’t be me.”

“Because you actually have time to stretch. Lucky.” Haoyu grumbles.

Said woman swirls her cup around, letting the wine slosh around the cup. “Even a minute of stretching out your arms could help, you bum.”

“Hmph, I don’t even have time for that. Besides, how would stretching my arms help with neck and back pain.” Huifen sighs. “I hope we can eat soon so I don’t have to be insulted by my own sister. I wonder how Mingze deals with bratty younger sisters.”

“I’ll have you now I’m only a brat 40% of the time!’ Hujin hissed. I couldn’t help but notice the way she looked like a very grumpy, rainbow, sparkly earring-wearing cat.

“40% is still a lot…” I mumbled before immediately being pinched on the cheeks by Hujin. ‘Ow ow ow, I take it back, help me-”

Then the waiter awkwardly places the food on the table. 

“Hey uh, I’d really appreciate some help here,” I stare pointedly at Huifen and Haoyu while escaping a headlock from Hujin. 

“You’re on your own,” Haoyu says, taking off his blazer then, putting some meat into the pot.

“Bastard,” I hiss at him. Huifen averts his gaze and I glare at him too. “Hey don’t look away! You’re also a bastard.”

Hujin then pulls me into a bear hug. “I guess we’re all bastards then!” She leans her head on my shoulder.

“Yeah…” I notice her head on my shoulder and stop in my tracks, all of a sudden the room went from hot to a boiler room. I’m pretty sure my brain was thoroughly cooked, better than the most well-done of steaks.

Haoyu puts a steak on my plate. “It’s Wagyu, you should try it.”

“Okay, uh, bon appetit.” I poked at the steak with my fork, before sighing and trying to cut it open with a fork and a knife, then sighing again and was almost tempted to just grab the wagyu by the end and shove the whole thing in my mouth, with chopsticks or something.

“Silly, you don’t need to cut it. But I’m sure someone here wouldn’t mind helping you,” Hujin teases, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Of course that certain someone wouldn’t mind helping their girlfriend,” Huifen smirks. I blink at him stupidly, trying to process what he said for a solid two seconds before the realization hits me with all the grace of being clonked in the head with a brick. Oh.

“No.” Interjects Haoyu. Still, he leans over with his knife and proceeds to cut the steak for me. 

“You really didn’t have to,” I say, while Hujin sulks about Haoyu being a ‘party-pooper’ and ‘old man wheezer’. “I was going to just eat it whole anyway.

Haoyu completely ignores Huijin, “Don’t worry about it.” He smiles ever so slightly. “Besides, you shouldn’t eat it whole. You will choke and die.”

“I’m too powerful to choke and die,” I deadpan back, picking up a large piece of steak and devouring it. Hujin looks at me with a mixture of awe and concern.

“Woah, I’m so trying that.” Hujin doesn’t even bother trying to cut her steak open, instead tearing off a huge chunk and swallowing. Her face turns a bright shade of red and she pounds on her chest while taking a huge swig of alcohol

Haoyu gently pats Hujin on the back, then clears his throat and he kinda glares at Hujin as if he’s trying to reprimand her for her table manners. Hujin glares back, not getting the memo about table manners. “Also don’t drink too fast, you’re going to get drunk.”

“Do we have a feral animal for a sister or what?” Huifen asks, half-joking, half-not.

“Mother would have killed her for this,” Haoyu replies cutting off a piece of steak. “And Father would have given all 3 of us a lecture on how we are representatives of our family 24/7”

“Thanks for that, now I’m going to choke on meat even more out of spite,” Hujin coughed out, covering her very rosy red face with a napkin.

“What are you, straight?” I quip.

“I’m whatever you want me to be, darling,” Hujin said in a sultry Southern accent before bursting into a fit of giggles so uncontrollable that Huifen jumped out of his chair in shock.

“I’m calling her an Uber home later…” Haoyu murmurs.

I nod. “Please,” I say while trying to avoid being suffocated while Hujin wrapped her arms around me and rested her head against the crook of my neck. “Help me…” I tried to move Hujin’s head away from me to take a bite of steak but gave up when she burrowed her head in further.

Haoyu removed Huijin’s arms from around me softly and guided her head towards himself. “Actually, I’ll just take her back to my place tonight.”

“Nooo,” Hujin whined. “She’s warmer than you. And more soft.” She grinned widely, a soft giggle forming on her lips. I suddenly felt my face heat up, probably because of how hot the steak I ate was. Most definitely.

“Huifen, can you take away her wine please?” Haoyu asks. “Erm, I also forgot my wallet so…”

Huifen threw his hands up in frustration. “Are you fucking kidding me?! This is the third time this week! Fine, I’ll pay though.” He pulled out his wallet, dropped 3 hundred-dollar bills in the little basket and waved for a waiter to come and collect it.

“I’ll e-transfer you once I get back to the office. Also Language we're in public.”

“Yeah yeah, no need.” Huifen waves it off. “It’s only a hundred dollars.”

“No no, I got it.” Haoyu waves off Huifen’s wave off.

“Don’t forget the e-transfer then,” Huifen sighs.

“Rich bitches,” I interrupt them while putting down twenty-five cents as a tip. “Good enough.” 

Haoyu helps Huijin to her feet, “Do you have your own ride or do you want to join us in the limo?” He looks at Huifen. 

“I’ll join you guys, a bit of family bonding I guess.” Huifen sighed and put his wallet back into his bag, and slung it over his shoulder. “Let’s go I guess.”

“Don’t fall” Haoyu warns Huijin, still he walks slower to ensure he’s right next to her.

Hujin pretends to trip out of spite, before immediately straightening herself afterward. “I’d never fall…unless it’s head over heels.”

“At this point, you’re falling head over heels literally.” Haoyu sighs, “I’ll let you have my bed tonight, I don’t want you alone right now.”

Hujin frowned. “Ah, right. That makes sense.” Her face and tone were grim, and it made me feel grim for some reason. I wanted to do something, anything to make her smile again.

“So um…penguins?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. “Opinions?”

“They’re cute,” Haoyu says, getting into the limo.

Hujin perked up immediately and started rambling about penguins, from their scientific name all the way to their mating seasons and their dietary habits. By the time the limo was on its way back to the company building, Hujin was now rambling about…Madagascar and how accurate the penguins representation was.

“Chiu, you’re dismissed, feel free to head home once you get to the office,” Haoyu says authoritatively. 

I smile warmly at Haoyu. “Thank you, for…well, everything.” My stomach churned with unease and I fought off the butterflies in my stomach with a pained grimace. “Sorry, I don’t really feel well right now…still getting used to uh…life in the big city.”

Haoyu nods “Do you want me to walk you to your car?” He offers.

I glance at Hujin and Huifen, who nod and give a thumbs-up in a strangely devious manner. “Um, okay, that would be nice. 

The four of us walked to the parking lot in comfortable silence, although I couldn’t help but notice Hujin whispering to her brothers in a drunk way and then started bursting into fits of laughter. Just what was that manic pixie nightmare girl yapping about now?

“Are you sure you don’t mind me teasing your new assistant girl?” Hujin says in a sing-song voice to Haoyu. Huifen gives Hujin a deadpan stare and a grunt before plugging in his earbuds, his social battery worn out 

“Shut it.” Haoyu stops to boop his sister’s nose. Hujin wrinkled her nose, an angry pout on her face.

“Uh-uh, I’m stealing her from you,”

“Stealing who?” I butted in, wanting to be included in the conversation. Back at home, I was often given weird looks by others for not minding my own business. However, the siblings didn’t seem like the judgmental type, so I didn’t really bother asking. 

“I honestly have no idea,” Haoyu replied. “Uh is that your car?” 

I nod. “Yeah. Uh, see you tomorrow I guess?” I look at Hujin, who was basically using Haoyu as a human teddy bear. She was snoring loudly on his shoulder and startled awake when I nudged her awake

“By the way,” I said smugly. “You’re going to have a killer headache tomorrow.”

“Noooooo…” she whined, burying her face even more into Haoyu’s shoulder.

“I think I have stuff to treat it at home, you’ll be fine.” 

“My head feels like it’s been hit on a rock…” Hujin complained.

I sigh, both exasperated and fond. “Maybe if you didn’t chug five glasses of vodka in one go?”

Haoyu shook his head, “Mother and Father would have killed me for even letting you drink, period.”

Hujin grumbled. “If only they ever treated me like an adult, not a fragile glass doll. Rargh!” She gripped at her hair.

“They’re dead,” Haoyu says bluntly. Crossing his arms with a stonefaced expression, returning to his soulless facade. “We can’t wish for anything from them anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” I say apologetically. Though sympathy was probably the last thing either of them wanted, it was the only thing that I could think of

Hujin waved off my concerns. “It’s fine, it’s not like it hurts…that much.” She cradled herself, looking a bit shameful. “Um…I mean, they’re our parents, so I should feel sad, but…” She shoots a pleading glance at me

“Don’t feel bad, I’m kinda glad they’re gone.” Haoyu blurts out. Then he grumbles  “I couldn't even force myself to cry at their funeral.”

I look at him, mostly a bit confused, before coming to an understanding. “So, I’m going to assume they weren’t the best of parents?”

“Far from it,” Huifen chimed in, sounding almost nonchalant…or detached?

Haoyu remained silent from here, his face suddenly becoming pale as if he said something he shouldn’t have, he’d occasionally glance at his twin but other than that he was frozen.

The air was getting more suffocating by the second. I opened my car door and slid in. “Um…thanks for accompanying me. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I lock the car door and drive back home.

chapter 2 release tbd

[ash-whimsicalfanfic]

Serendipity (CH 4)

Leroy Jethro Gibbs X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 2353

Warning: Mild language, fluff, smut, angst…

Prompt: You have a major crush on Gibbs, however you choose to push it away as you fear he doesn’t feel the same way. Suddenly there is a bunch of chances that lead to a happy ending…

As much as I hated being away from work for a week, I dreaded coming in today. Gibbs hasn't seen me since he left me at the hospital. I bite my lip, staring at the building. I shouldn't of said anything. I always knew he wasn't going to feel the same way.

I brush my red hair over my shoulders, an impulsive decision. I was wearing a white v-neck, a black blazer and black dress pants.

My makeup was natural although I lined the eyeliner a little heavier this morning. I was trying to feel more like myself, but I couldn't get there. I grab the gift bags and my purse before heading inside.

I was here before everyone, eager to work, but hoping to avoid everyone. I drop a present at everyone's desk before heading to autopsy and leaving Ducky and Palmer theirs. I go to Abby's lab and leave hers there. I go back to my desk, working on some paper work before I was called back to talk with the shrink—apparently required after almost dying.

I was short with her, eager to get away. She kept going though, repeating questions no matter how many times I answered. By the time she'd given up—an hour and a half later—I was furious. I walk out of her office entering the bullpen.

"I don't ever remember the shrink being so...so persistent! Argh! I need Abby." I grumble, slumping in my chair.

"Y/N, you just had to answer the questions." Tim says.

"I know that. I did. But, I didn't realize that being short with her resulted in repeats. I was in there for an hour and a half." I grumble.

"Everyone is just worried about you." He says.

I knew Gibbs was staring, but I chose to ignore his stare. I put my hands on my face, taking a deep breath. I needed to let it out.

"What's with the new hair?" Tony asks.

"I'm trying to feel a little more me. But, it didn't work and I probably look stupid." I grumble.

"I think red suits you." Gibbs says.

"Agreed. It makes your eyes pop and suits your complexity." Ziva says.

I lay my head on my desk, trying to gather myself. I felt like I was falling to pieces and no one was seeing me. I take a deep breath, standing and walking to the stairs. I head to Abby's lab and she grins.

"Your back!" She exclaims, pulling me into a hug.

"Oh Abby, I've missed you so much. You don't even know it." I murmur, hugging her tighter.

"Awe! I missed you too, Y/N/N!" She exclaims.

I felt normal with Abby. With her...I felt more myself than I have this past week. She listened while I ranted until Gibbs called her, saying he needed me back upstairs. I had left my phone, so makes sense.

I grab my phone and sketch pad as I follow the team. Due to my spectacular profiling skills, my mind seemed to play out every crime scene. It was easier for me to draw than talk. I could do both, but the pictures came to mind before the words.

"Thank you, for the present. How'd you know I've been wanting that book?" Ziva asks.

"You've been talking about it. You also saw a quote online and hung it on your bulletin board." I say and she smiles.

"Nothing ever gets passed you, does it Y/N/N?" She asks.

"No. I can't help I'm observant. I'm also a pretty good profiler." I say.

"Sounds more of an FBI job." Gibbs grumbles.

"If you want me gone Gibbs, don't be shy. Use your words." I say, staring ahead.

The doors open and I walk past him, hitting his shoulder. Was I hurt he'd say something like that? Yeah, I was. I worked my ass off on this team and this is what I get. I keep silent, deciding to go in the van today rather than with Gibbs.

He grabs my arm before I could climb up into the van. I huff, trying to pull my arm free, but I couldn't. I get in the car, looking out the window.

"Do we have a problem, Y/L/N?" He asks.

I keep silent, staring out the window as my eyes watered. I can't imagine leaving this team. This team has been the best team I've ever been on. They're my family. He slams on the brakes, before pulling the car over.

"I asked you a question. When I ask a question, you answer it." He snaps.

"Do you really want me gone, Gibbs? Is it about what I said? Because if it is, just forget I said anything. I shouldn't of said anything. I see that now. But, I couldn't die with that secret weighing me down. So, please...can we move past that. I know I shouldn't of said anything. I know nothing can happen because you don't feel that way and rule twelve. I get it, Gibbs. I have my answer. Now, can you please drive to the crime scene? Please?" I ask, staring out the window to hide my tears.

"I don't want you on this team because it'd make it so much easier. I do like you, but your right. I have rule twelve in place for a reason. I made the rule. I can't break that rule. That's why I don't want you on my team. However, I want you on my team because we are family. I don't know what we'd do without you. But, you need to try to forget those feelings...it isn't healthy dwelling on something you can't have." He says.

I was silent as he started to drive. As we neared the crime scene, I wiped my cheeks clean, opening my sketch pad. I was quick to get out of the car, walking around the house slowly to clear my mind.

I walk in and look around. The wife and husband were sprawled out on the floor. I sketch away, keeping in mind about the domestic violence call to their home. They were arguing and apparently it continued after the officer left.

Cheating?

Financial troubles?

Loveless relationship?

I write my thoughts on the top corner of the page, kneeling beside the bodies as I investigate them.

"What is she doing?" An officer asks.

"She's doing her job. She has very special skills. Can practically predict what happened on each scene. So, she sketches." Tony says.

"Is she single?" He asks.

"Yeah." Tim says.

"She isn't looking right now." Gibbs says.

I roll my eyes, continuing my sketch. I stand, moving to kneel beside the other body. I stand, moving through the room. I get to an empty room, noticing boxes. My heart drops to my stomach noticing it was baby items. I go back to the living room and see Ducky is here.

"Ducky, could you lift her shirt? Just to show her stomach." I say.

Despite his confusion, he lifts the baggy hoodie and I see it in his eyes like mine. The woman definitely had a baby bump. My eyes water and I quickly walk back to the room that was meant to be the nursery. I sit on one of the boxes, sketching a baby.

Not the husbands baby?

Could it be a secret lovers child?

Or a jealous ex-lover?

Again, I take tab of my notes as I make my way to the bathroom. I study the products before heading to the couples bedroom. They weren't sleeping in the same room. She had the bedroom.

"Y/L/N! Are you done yet!?" Gibbs calls.

I stay silent, kneeling as I continue sketching. I pull my gloves on and I open drawers. I walk to the backyard and look around. It was quiet and peaceful back here. There were woods behind the home. I notice something on the ground between the trees.

I walk out and kneel. It was a cigarette box and a bunch of cigarettes. I grab the camera that was hanging around my neck and snap a few pictures. I grab an evidence bag out of my pocket and bag it. I take my gloves off, before sitting on the ground a little ways behind the spot I found the buds and facing the back of the house.

I heard the doors open as I sketched a shadowy silhouette standing between the trees, smoking and watching the house.

"Y/N? What the hell? I've been calling for you." Gibbs snaps.

I stand, looking around. I snap a picture of some boot print before looking up at Gibbs.

"Why tell me you have feelings? Why not lie and make it easier? Knowing you have feelings for me isn't going to make this easier, Gibbs. Why do you have to follow that stupid rule anyway? You know Tony and Ziva aren't. So, why can't you break it?" I ask.

"We are doing a case right now, Y/L/N." He sighs. 

"I'm aware. I've determined our unsub wears military boots, size thirteen. He's probably six foot two. I'd say he's got a heavy build or he's heavier set by the boot prints. He's a chain smoker. He's been staking out here, stalking our victims. Right through that window, bam. You have the perfect site of the kitchen and living room. The sliding doors, bam. Perfect view of the hallway. He was able to see when they were in separate rooms. Took care of the husband first then the wife." I say.

"And how do you know the wife was saved for last?" He asks.

"Her murder was overkill. She was the target. Our unsub was angry with her. Stab wounds to the chest, mostly the heart which could be his way of showing heartbreak. The shot to the head was done postmortem and could be a sign of executing her once and for all from his life. The husband was shot instantly. He was dead from the first shot. He wasn't the target." I say.

"Let's go." He says.

I roll my eyes, looking around before following after him. I got in the car as he wrapped up the scene. I worked away in my sketchbook, tidying up the sketches from the scene. He gets in the car and it was silent.

I wasn't surprised when he pulled over to get coffee. I was surprised when he asked if I wanted to go in with him. I was far too focused on my drawing to leave though. So, I turned down his offer. I was hunched over, my hair getting on my nerves as I didn't have a hair tie.

It was all over, casting shadows on the drawing and constantly getting in my face or in the way of the drawing. He climbs in and clear his throat. I look up and he held a coffee out towards me.

"Thanks." I mumble, taking it.

It was silent and then he was holding something else out towards me. A hair tie...the scrunchie I lost a few months ago.

"Found it in my car a few days ago." He says.

"Thank you." I say quietly, taking it.

I put my hair up in a messy bun, letting it sit on top of my head as I sketched away. He grunts, leaning over me. I stop, looking at him confused. He grabs the buckle and buckles me in. My cheeks flush red and I look down before busying myself in the sketchbook.

I was relieved to get out of the car. It was tense between Gibbs and I. I didn't like it, but there wasn't much I could do. I was walking into the building, looking down as someone bumps into me.

I look up, my coffee hitting the ground. Thankfully, outside. I had coffee all over the front of my shirt, sketchbook and camera.

"I'm so, so, sorry. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going." He says.

"It's alright. Accidents happen." I say softly, managing a small smile.

I toss the empty coffee cup away and turn to see the man waiting. Gibbs was getting closer and looked pissed off. Oh great.

"Can I have your number? Maybe take you out for coffee to make up for this?" He asks, smiling.

He was a cute guy for sure. He wasn't Gibbs though. I list off my number and he adds it to his phone before Gibbs grabs my arm and drags me towards the building.

We get to the elevator and it was silent before he slams on the emergency stop button, turning to me.

"What the hell was that?" He snaps.

"Green doesn't look good on you, Gibbs." I tease.

"Y/N, what was that?" He asks again, the warning clear in his tone.

"He bumped into me and obviously my coffee spilt all over me...my camera and sketchbook. He apologized and he asked for number to take me out to coffee some time so that he can make up for today." I said.

"Are you that naive? Do you really believe he just wants to be friends? Or that it was an accident? Your smarter than that, Y/L/N. He just wants in your pants." He snaps, smacking me in the back of the head.

I was quiet, thinking back to me walking up to the building. He had indeed saw me. I frown, knowing Gibbs was right. I reach out, hitting the button. He sighs, hitting it again, but I hit again and block it. I was relieved when the doors opened.

I walked off, throwing my stuff on my desk. I reach into my purse, before smacking the side of my head with a fist as I clench my jaw. God. I'm so done with today.

"Y/N?" Tim questions.

I shrug my blazer off, walking towards the stairs where I head to Abby's lab. I walk in and she smiles before seeing that I wasn't okay. I break and start crying immediately.

[theyscreamjade]

It’s Giving Christmas 

「 Y’all, how could you all not tell me I don’t have a Christmas headcanon? I swore I made one..but eh! If you want more with a Christmas, hit me up! I’ll do another! ~ෆ」

⊰ Safe For The Kiddiesও

↬ word count ᱺ 1.4kෆ

↬ Disclaimer: Christmas Cheerও

Taglist ➸ @janshu , @namjoonswifeyy

Izuku Midoriya

⧽ Deku is the one person you’d love to spend Christmas with. 

⧽ Besides him working, he had every single gift on everyone’s lists set and ready. 

⧽ He got your gifts while he was between his patrols and hid them all at his mother’s house. 

⧽ But everyone else’s? They’re all brought, wrapped, and prepared with pretty bows. Some are wrapped, some are in those bags and some gift cards are hanging on the tree.

⧽ Your families here from America, crashing at a hotel until the day of Christmas. 

⧽ He knows how much Christmas means to you, so he makes sure to take a week off. Besides, much isn’t happening because of the cold.

⧽ You both listen to Christmas music while preparing Christmas dinner, making you and his favorites along with a few others. 

⧽ (To my people, you know those chitterlings are on the stove.)

⧽ He likes the traditional festive dinner, turkey, and everything because there are a bunch of people coming over.

⧽ Ever since he first rescued Eri, he devoted himself to ensuring that she gets a gift every single year. From the stuffed animals she once wanted to the newest phones since she’s reaching her teenage years. 

⧽ The night before Christmas, you bake some cookies and let him bite one off to act as if Santa was here. 

⧽ When you’re asleep, he sneaks out and bounced over to his mother’s home. She helps him sneak the gifts for you over and underneath the tree. 

⧽ Deku is one of those types to remember any item you mentioned you’d needed. 

⧽ For example, if you said you wanted a laptop lap desk so you can sit on the couch and do work without being in pain from your back.

⧽ Boom, brought it that night. 

⧽ He knows you like the back of his hand, so he buys you certain items like bras and more. 

⧽ A true topper for him is getting you a car or a new phone, laptop, or something. 

⧽ You’re massively surprised when you wake up and see the pile of gifts and presents underneath your tree

⧽ The minute everyone’s over and everyone opening gifts, you can’t help but smile at how much he listened to you. 

⧽ Once the gifts are opened and everyone had their fill of dinner. While cleaning up, he’d walk over with the wishbone. 

⧽ You washed your hands off quickly before taking the other piece and pulling with all your might. This time, he collected the majority. 

⧽ “What did you wish for?” You’d ask, looking up at him as he smiled. 

⧽ “What more can I wish for? All my wishes can true when I met you.” He’d reply.

⧽ A very merry Christmas

Katsuki Bakugou

⧽ Lemme just say this, Mister Boom Boom brought all your gifts throughout the year. 

⧽ He had that shit the minute you’d point it out. But he knows you, just because you point at it, doesn’t mean you need it. 

⧽ He also tries not to go overboard with the gifts, your ass is spoiled enough. 

⧽ So, The week of Christmas? He uses his PTO (Paid Time Off) and helps you decorate the house. 

⧽ He’s a perfectionist so….he’s decorating the entire house. He wants the best home on the block, trust and believe. He’s gonna achieve it

⧽ He’s got a reputation to protect and a one-sided rivalry with the neighbors. 

⧽ Candy canes lead up the driveway and walkway. 

⧽ Christmas lights are placed perfectly around the house. 

⧽ It’s not basic, to say the least..but he also doesn’t want to cause a power outage like the people down the street. 

⧽ While getting a few last-minute gifts like gift cards and candy, you’d go around and see the other homes with him. 

⧽ He talks mad shit about them but..honestly, he loves how your eyes light up at the homes that look beautiful to you. 

⧽ Gift wrapping with him is…whew, stressful. He’s like a drill Sargent. Too much paper, Not enough paper, too much tape, did your mother teach you this shit? 

⧽ He doesn’t like messy wrapping, he likes hard work and dedication. So he might kick you out if you can’t do it right.

⧽ When it comes to food, he tends to change it every year. He likes to incorporate where you are from with his and your family so everyone’s comfortable. 

⧽ For example, if you’re from the south in the US and the fam’s coming? They’re coming the night before and they’re cooking all night.

⧽ You’ll have southern food in Japan..bomb. 

⧽ When everyone heads home and you’re getting ready for bed, he’ll lie and say that Kirishima needed some help…but he’s getting your gifts.

⧽ That’s where he hid them, at Kirishima’s place. 

⧽ Zap Zap and Stupid hair help him place all your stuff down while you’re in the shower, and they were out the second you were out.

⧽ Christmas Day comes around, and your family is having fun with his parents. It’s beyond adorable. His mother and your mother were best buddies while your dad and uncle talked with his father. 

⧽ Bakugou’s gifts to you consisted of gift cards to your favorite places to eat and shop. 

⧽ The ultimate gift was him getting you one of those necklaces that would send your heartbeat to you. 

⧽ His was black and yours was white. It was one of his ways of ensuring that you know he’s alive when he’s doing his hero work. He knows his job makes you worried.

⧽ With every gift opened, every belly full, you guys watch Christmas movies on his tv while cuddling. 

⧽ “So…what do you want next year?” You’d asked, curiously as his crimson eyes looked towards you. 

⧽ “I already got it.” He replied, confusing you.

⧽ “What was it?” You asked as he turned his head towards you and smirked.

⧽ “I got to see that pretty smile on your face..that’s all I could ever ask for.”

Shoto Todoroki

⧽ I can’t say this enough.

⧽ Don’t go window shopping with Shoto, he’ll buy everyone you point at. 

⧽ He doesn’t know better and he means well when he does…

⧽ Cause due to you two window shopping, you’ve got a damn mountain of gifts that even makes Fuyumi worried. 

⧽ Oh! You guys don’t celebrate Christmas at home, you guys travel to Endeavor’s many vacation homes. This time, it was in the mountains. 

⧽ You were able to patch up things between Shoto and Endeavor since everything that’s happened. 

⧽ He trusts you when you say that Endeavor is changing and it kinda made him feel a bit better. 

⧽ So! An entire week and a half with Endeavor can be endured with you. 

⧽ For starters, They don’t wrap gifts. Shoto doesn’t know how..and Fuyumi usually suggests placing it in a bag to save time. 

⧽ You spend A LOT of time as a family, from Christmas movies to games and more. Fuyumi is practically bouncing with excitement at the fact they’re all together. 

⧽ The night before Christmas, Shoto does tell Fuyumi that you two will be busy. He takes you by your hand and covers your eyes, taking you outside the door.

⧽ He soon revealed a horse on a sleigh, surprising you with this every year. 

⧽ The ride is cold but made better due to the fact Shoto’s left side is like a personal heater. It keeps you warm while you enjoy the beautiful scenery and the northern lights. The sky’s so clear and beautiful.

⧽ Once back home, you two immediately head to the bathroom and then to bed to rest before the next day. 

⧽ You’re basically drowning with gifts, from items he noticed you looked at, showed him and more. He’s extremely observant.  

⧽ When I mean by this is like this, you show Shoto a picture of a rice cooker you thought would be cool on Amazon.

⧽ Shoto: Immediately buys it. 

⧽ Unlike other dinners, you two head to Deku’s place. 

⧽ With Bakugou and others all over, it’s a massive gift exchange and a delicious meal in which you all share. 

⧽ During the drive home, you smiled and looked toward him. “Do you ever get bored of doing this every year?” You asked as he shook his head.

⧽ “Why not?” You questioned as his hand slid into yours. He pulled with him towards his lips and smiled. 

⧽ “Because every year…I get to spend Christmas with you.”

[remiwarner]

L I F E‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ S U P P O R T

Since moving out — which had been more sleeping in another apartment than any actual moving — Remi had not been back to his old place. Their… old place. He'd never intended to go back, but tonight — now — his key turned in the door just like it had for… if it hadn't been years then it'd sure as fuck felt like it. What did he know? He was still paying the fucking rent, because someone needed to come clean the place out, and he wasn't about to let the building's management do it, but it sure as fuck wasn't going to be him.

The lights were off, and the ghost-coat of dust everywhere made the room look like some fucked up museum, or like nothing physical at all but instead one of the dark, empty spaces in his head. Remi felt lazily along the wall for the switch until his fingers found it and he could actually see, which he regretted immediately because the light stung his eyes and because for some inexplicable reason he felt like throwing up a little bit. Everything was still where she'd left it. And then where he'd left it. Everything that didn't fit in a pair of suitcases and a fucking car, and it was almost funny. Though he fumbled a little, he was smiling as he pulled his phone out, squinting at the screen as he looked up the building manager and wrote him a text: srry fr the noise cmplaints — accompanied by a sum of money that was verging on inordinate. He didn't wait for a reply; it was four in the morning anyway, probably the guy was sleeping.

Remi continued his slow shuffle further into the apartment, attention drawn to the wall his hand had resumed its mindless drag across; pictures, mirrors, fucking mirrors everywhere— and damn, but he looked like shit. A flicker of a thought, gone (pale, hollow-eyed, dark ink he wasn't used to on both sides of his throat) as the mirror crashed to the floor along with the other frames, getting in his way so he had to step on them to move on. It crunched. Why didn't they have a fireplace? Completely unnecessary unless you wanted to burn something, which he kind of did, and he didn't think the building manager was gonna let that slide, no matter how much he paid him. Oh well. He could burn a cigarette. And he did, using one hand to smoke while the other flopped onto every surface he passed by and swept everything on top of it to the floor in his wake. The big screen in the living room was pretty easy to tip over, and it ripped a bunch of plugs out of the wall as it fell and yanked the other shit that was plugged into it along. Doing the work for him, really, which was good because he didn't have the fucking energy to start throwing shit.

Deeper in, toys already on the floor stayed ignored, but he'd lit another cigarette, and everything in the room he'd just entered was an ashtray. Shoes, bags, ridiculously expensive stupid-ass fucking dresses. He made scorch marks in them to match the ones on his arm and relit his cigarette, not caring that he kept putting it out because he had more cigarettes, and because it was fucking cathartic, seeing the pristine fabric marred with black, crumbling holes. Tugging them off the hangers and dropping them on the floor wasn't bad, either. Another ashtray. Jewelry box. Empty. He flicked ash into it, eyes darting without his instruction or intention to the high shelves across from him. Also empty. A fresh surge of hatred flared like a lick of flame somewhere between his ribs. He would've liked to have thrown those boxes. He would've liked to have opened them and thrown — one by one — every single piece of their contents at her fucking head. His hand was gripping the intricate silver jewelry box, knuckles whitening around it, and he caught a glimpse of himself again in the vanity, fucking mirrors, the box smashing into the glass a split second later, shattering it, then clattering off the makeup on the desk before landing with a thunk on the floor among lipstick tubes and brushes and whatever the fuck else.

Drawing a breath, Remi crushed his final cigarette out on a wig perched on a plastic head and went back the way he came. He pulled his hood back up as he let himself out, but thankfully nobody was rubbernecking in the hallway. If they had heard him, these upstanding-ass neighbors were probably too scared to go near their doors; if anything, they were looking at him through their hallway cameras. Not that they'd recognize him. Honey, look! Some criminal just came out of the Warners' apartment! That did make him laugh, a quiet snort somewhere at the back of his throat. He wondered if he'd get a call about it later. Hopefully he'd paid the building manager enough to come up with something clever on his behalf — and if not, well… what were a few more unanswered calls?

[pbandjesse]

I had a nice day. But I didn't feel great. My stomach hurt all day. Which was frustrating. I also am afraid I'm getting a sinus infection because there's a bad smell like stuck in my nose. But I felt happy. Sleep is coming easier. My thoughts aren't racing as much.

So I woke up in a better mood. My stomach was bothering me but I felt alright beyond that. James would see me off and I drove to the musuem.

It was a good day. I was slightly concerned when John green opened the door and a bunch of other educators were already at the door. I was like. Did I read the schedule wrong??! But not there was an early group.

Except they ended up being more then an hour late. And were apparently a total handful. But I lucked out because my kids were so stinking cute and lovely. 20 kindergarteners on their very first feild trip!! They were already organized! They were early! And they were such good listeners.

I really had the best time. I had Sarah with me today. Who is very smart and quick to learn. Which is not surprising because she's a doctoral student studying Islamic culture in the 8th century?? Fascinating.

We had two programs with the littles today. A neighborhood tour and then the lights on program.

They liked wearing costumes. And it was such a small group that it was very easy to hand things out and get through the whole program. They were just chill. We had some big laughs. And I did get one little girls hair stuck on one of my pins and we were like. Ahhhh!! But I solved it quick and no one lost any hair.

We finished early so I took them to the wall of milestones and turned on the ring of fire and had them try to blow it out. And then after pointing out a few things to them I had them take a long lunch.

Which was a nice little break. I had a nice conversation with Sarah. We talked about tomorrow with her taking over some parts of that tour. And then just a quiet break scrolling on my phone.

The next program of the day was our lights on program. Which the kids loved. It was fun working with them and they did a great job. I didn't get a chance to take a picture of them all done but they looked great. They also really liked the phone booth and seeing all the old tvs.

Eventually we went to the car. And they were fascinated by the roll up windows. Kids are so funny.

It was time for them to go though. We waited for the other half of the class. And we waved goodbye.

I checked in with Jessica. Who was struggling at the front desk because of an influx from the other group. But she said I was good to lead our supplies and I went to work on oysters.

I had a good chat with my coworkers. And I got a lot of oysters done. And at 2 it was time to go.

I headed home. And was happy to be here. James made me nachos. And I got to work on some stuff on my tablet. I decided to draw my dad. So I worked on that, checking with mom about what things should look like. And I had a good afternoon.

I spent a good while embroidering. I hope to cover this bag. And so far I really think it's looking cute. It's nice to have a project.

There was also rest. And watching videos. Eventually James made us pasta for dinner. And I would take a bubble bath. Where I would actually put on a movie. And now me and James are laying in bed and it's been a really nice night.

I hope you all sleep easy tonight. Be safe. And have a good day tomorrow!

[engagedtobefree]

Chris

I guess it’s time to talk about my dental hygienist.

Back last year my old dentist, who I wanted to get rid of a for awhile, called to cancel my appointment because they were short-staffed and it would be a year and a half wait for my cleaning. That prompted me to finally look for a new place. I wanted to go somewhere with an oral surgeon because I needed something looked at, and I narrowed it down to two places. Sat on it for awhile before finally picking the one that just gave me an overall better feeling about it.

My first appointment I had x-rays, an evaluation, and talked with the oral surgeon. My second appointment was only a few weeks later, toward the end of October. I show up in a sweater and skinny jeans, with my glasses on and my hair up in a big bun. I think I’m just here to get a cleaning and go home, with nothing really significant at all happening in between those two things. Boy, was I wrong. I get called back and walk up to the hygienist, who is holding the door for me. I don’t remember looking right at him because I saw him do a double-take when I get closer, and my first instinct is to just pretend I don’t notice whenever a guy appears interested in me. I’d much rather just be left alone and not have to deal with anything, unless of course I also happen to have an interest in the other person, which is rare.

So we go back to the room and my hygienist introduces himself as Chris. He offers to take my bag and hang it up for me, but I already put it on the floor and I tell him the floor is fine. He makes a comment, something like, “My grandma would roll in her grave if she saw you do that.” It seems he’s a little shocked by my complete lack of concern lol. Chris is really friendly and immediately just starts talking with me. He has on Corpse Bride on his little tv, and he makes me laugh twice in probably the first 2 minutes of me being in the chair. He asks me all sorts of questions and actually pulls out of my mouth so I can answer him, which is unlike any other cleaning I’ve ever been to. We have a bunch of shared interests, like Halloween, comics, and he also does some yoga, and I find talking to him is really easy and calming. I notice he has a sort of glow about him, like the energy around him is pure and light. At one point I actually see a light coming from him, one that’s so bright that it obscures some of the room. This intrigues me. I’ve never met a man with this type of energy before. I’ve never met anyone with this type of energy before. Then Chris asks me how old I am. I get the impression that this isn’t something he asks everyone. I tell him I’m 30 and he’s absolutely shocked, “You’re thirty?!?”. I look over at him and see his brown eyes go wide. I turn back and he leans forward to work on my mouth again, but then I burst out with excitement, “Oh no, wait! I’m 31! I forgot. I just had my birthday.” I wonder how old he is, but I don’t ask. He seems to be around my age, but he has had a mask on the whole time, so it’s really hard for me to tell. He asks me where I live and I think he also asks if I live with anyone (or maybe I just voluntarily give him that info). He doesn’t ask in a creepy way, but I also get the impression that again, he’s asking for a reason. I tell him where I live and that it’s just me and my cat. When Chris is done, he goes over to a cabinet to give me stuff to take home, but I decline since I use eco-friendly products at home. He says he feels bad to let me leave without anything, and then I get the urge to flirtily ask if I could leave with his number. I’m not sure I even say anything back to him because I’m just so surprised at what is going on inside of me at the moment. He walks me out to the check-out desk, and I start to feel really disappointed that I can’t keep talking with him. When I get out to my car, I send a Snapchat video to my two best friends telling them how great my dental hygienist was. I have this strange feeling that I’ve never felt before, as if we are the same, like he’s me and I’m him, but that we are still separate individuals. I don’t know what to make of that. When my friend Stacy responds, she says he was into me and that I should date him. I insist it was just friend vibes. I know that I’m lying, but I feel super conflicted. At this point in time, I am still waiting around for Scott, but I barely hear from him anymore and I have been feeling very dissatisfied with our dynamic for a long time now. 

As soon as I get home, I try to look Chris up. I don’t have any luck finding him on any social media sites and I feel bummed about it. I look up reviews about the dental office and find a handful of ones mentioning Chris and how great he was, which actually makes my heart sink. Was I just imagining things? Was I picking up on the wrong vibes? I’ve never been wrong about someone being into me before, but there’s still a chance I could be wrong. For the time being, I push him out of my mind. He trickles back in here and there, but I just keep pushing him back down.

Some time in December, he keeps persistently crossing my mind, so I decide to try to look him up again. This time, I do some serious hardcore digging. I am determined to find this man. I keep telling myself I would find him so I could see what he looks like, lose interest, and then get on with my life. Welp, my life had other plans for me because when I do finally find him, I find that I am very attracted to him. This isn’t something that normally happens for me. Objectively, I can acknowledge someone is attractive and not really care beyond that. I’ll just get on with my day. But there is the super, incredibly rare, almost non-existent phenomenon where I am actually attracted to another person, and Chris happens to cause that to happen for me. He’s also very conventionally attractive, which makes it even more rare that I am so attracted to him, because I don’t usually find myself going for people like that. So the odds of me being physically attracted to this man were like a 0.01%, but it happened. It fucking happened. So now I have this dilemma where not only am I completely attracted to his personality and energy, but I’m also physically attracted to him. 

I find he’s in a band, so I watch a few of their videos. There’s some where Chris and bandmates are talking, and I can tell by his voice that I have the right person. This is not a drill. He’s even more mesmerizing seeing him talking and laughing in the videos. 

I remember that the dental office sent me a feedback questionnaire after my appointment, and I didn’t bother filling it out. I think about submitting it, but again, I’m conflicted. At this point, Scott and I are just no longer happening, but I’m still holding onto hope. But then, it doesn’t feel right to not pursue this. After a few days of sitting on it, I decide to submit the questionnaire. I have no idea if Chris will see it, but I decide it can’t hurt to try. I answer the multiple choice questions and then when I get to the last part, where you can write in anything, I mention Chris. I only write two sentences, and I don’t remember the second one, though I think it’s just a general comment about the office. My first sentence was along the lines of, “Chris was really sweet and left a great impression :)”. It’s basic enough where if someone else reads it, they won’t think much of it, but if Chris reads it, he might. 

I spend the next few months just going about my life, and working on moving forward from Scott. When it gets closer to April, I start to get nervous. What if I read things wrong? What if Chris doesn’t have an interest in me? I start to look at all his stuff online again, and I keep thinking about just our brief interactions and how much I got out of them. I decide that I will just read the vibes when I see him next and then go from there. I assume since he’s working I will need to make the first move and ask for his number if I get the impression again that he may also be into me. 

Just like before, I have x-rays and a follow-up with the oral surgeon a few weeks before my next appointment with Chris. That was this past Tuesday. They had called me a few hours before to tell me Chris had an opening that day before my scheduled appointment if I wanted to come in for my cleaning sooner, but I have stuff to do beforehand and I don’t feel quite ready yet, so I decline. When I get there, I go up to the front desk and Chris isn’t at the other computer like he was for my previous two appointments (both times he said how our last names were similar lol). I sit in the waiting room and after about half an hour, Chris comes out to get someone. I nearly jump out of my seat when I hear his voice. I keep looking at him, then away, then back at him, and away again. He has on his mask again, but the rest of him is very nice to look at. He doesn’t appear to see me. My heart sinks. Okay, maybe he just doesn’t know I’m here. He might’ve even forgotten about me, but I didn’t actually expect him to remember me anyway, just for me to hopefully refresh his memory when he sees me again. I remind myself to just trust myself, and that I’ll make all the right choices here. It’s another half hour before I’m called back. As I head through the door with the woman who called me, Chris rounds the corner up ahead, bringing his patient back out front. I stop to untwist my bag, and when I turn forward and start walking again, Chris is pretty close. I can’t help but closed-lip smile, and I can feel it reach my eyes. I look over at him and he’s already looking at me, and we lock eyes as we pass each other. His eyes show me that he’s smiling at me too. My insides go ”!!!!!!!!!!!!!”. Any shred of doubt I had completely dissipates. Chris remembers me. He knew I would be here today and he is definitely interested in me. This is better than I even imagined.

I get into the little x-ray room and talk with the woman who brought me back. It’s a tiny room, really the size of maybe two or three closets. About two minutes later, Chris comes up behind me and hangs in the doorway. He asks if the machine is working okay now and says he’s the one who fixed it. Him and the other women talk back and forth briefly, and I look back and forth between them as they talk. My eyes finally stop to rest of Chris, taking him in and waiting to see what he does when he walks back out. When he does turn to leave, he turns towards me and we lock eyes again. I wish I could know what he’s thinking. I don’t see him again before I leave, but the brief encounters really shift everything for me. I also got the impression that I may not even need to be the one to ask for his number. I thought because he was working that he might not take that chance so I’d have to be the one to, but when we locked eyes in the hallway I got a really strong vibe from him that he will actually go for it when the time comes. 

And so now, I am literally counting the days until my next appointment (as of right now: just under 16!) so that all this can get set into motion. I know that I don’t really have much to go off of, but I can tell Chris is a really great guy, and I just have such a good feeling about him. I have never had that feeling before about a man. Just being confident in knowing he is a great person is such a new thing for me to experience. I am working hard in my own life to be the best I can be, and to be completely open to something new, and in a short amount of time, I feel like I’ve made huge progress in both those areas. I feel so aligned with everything that is happening right now, and I have the absolute best feeling about this man. I hope my next update about him is even better than this one.

[novemquadragintillion]

Things I want to aquire someday:

Bookshelf with a bunch of books I like. From fine art to photography to cooking to manga to novels to how-tos. If there's room, some CDs and DVDs too!

Noise cancelling headphones

Cargo bike (in a perfect world where bikes aren't stolen all the time) (and if the area I live doesn't have tons of hills) (adult tricycle?)

An electric scooter similar to Vespa from FLCL, if I don't want a cargo bike (also cargo scooters exist!!)

If not a cargo bike or an electric scooter, a small car I guess. Kinda want to avoid cars though

A kotatsu. They always look really comfy and they don't use a lot of electricity (I think), and some types can run on battery apparently

Loft bed. One with stairs instead of a ladder. Underneath the bed, I'd install a curtain to cover the space, and I could store stuff there or have a tiny desk to draw. I saw a custom loft bed once where the person made each stair step into a drawer. It was really cool

If not a loft bed, I really want a bed with a canopy. Sleep like a princess

Mushroom lamp, flower lamp, traffic light lamp or lava lamp

Fairy lights <3

Heated blanket

(vaguely thinking about this one) Canister vacuum with bags and a small floor brush. Nothing fancy, and definitely NOT a floor roller. I hate my family's vacuum, it is annoyingly big and difficult to clean small spaces or underneath furniture with, and its floor roller just gets hair stuck in it all the time -_-

Anything steampunk

A dresser with shallow but wide drawers (what are they called?). I want to store artwork and small to large paper without them getting creases or dust

Toolbox (for tools of course, and maybe another for art supplies)

Paintings of whatever I find interesting

Street signs and/or street sign stickers

One of those green electric exit signs

Portal mirrors

Old restaurant menu board, and a Aperture Laboratories water bottle (these two posts I saw years ago, and they've lived rent free 24/7 in my brain ever since) -

[dr0wzytraz0done]

I love that in the past year I:

Got covid

Got asthma from covid

Got over fear of public gyms

Got covid AGAIN

My fiancee refused to initiate any sexual activities

We started arguing even more (we already argued a lot)

They became borderline abusive

My birthday comes (19)

I have a major relapse

I became incredibly suicidal

I plan a vacation back home

I start a new job bc we can't afford rent since my fiancee switched to a worse job

They also become obsessed with the idea of having sex in the living room

I give in every so often bc they won't let me say no.

I develop a fainting problem

I see a doctor and do a bunch of tests

I do an EKG and a Cardiac Event Monitor

No results

I afford rent at the expense of food

I'm more depressed than ever and end up crying every night

My fiancee doesn't care

I make friends with 2 ppl I work with

- October 3rd-

I invite one over to my house for a bit after work

We agree to get a room at the hotel we work at for the 4 of us to hang out

My fiancee tries to get me to fuck in the bed while our two friends are on their phones in the bed across from us

I refuse

Repeatedly

He won't let me say no

He keeps groping me

He won't stop

I get up and move to a different bed (it had 2 bunk beds in the room it's cool)

He gets pissed

Friends leave room so we can talk

He storms out

They come back after 2 hours

I was crying the whole time

No one saw him

Front desk saw him leave

We find him at our house

He is crying

We talk and agree I need space

He seems fine and I almost forgive him

Friends and I go back

I'm distressed

We sleep and spend next day hanging out

After school day ends I watch my roommates kid (next door) for a bit

He comes over

He begs me to forgive him

Doesn't let me say No

I push him outside

I slam door in his face

He almost hits me

We argue outside

I am crying and pissed

He is more pissed

I'm scared

Friends n I leave

He has to come to the house I'm at bc I have his birth certificate in my bag (accidental)

He shows up

Won't leave until we threaten to call cops after I break up with him fully

I call my BFF and explain

I call His step-mom

She tells me to come over so we do

HE was there so we talk in her car

I agree to talk with him with ppl there

He keeps talking about how sorry he is and how he didn't know

I say I will give him a chance but we shouldn't live together for rn

He agrees

Over next few days he keeps bothering me about forgiveness

He decides to go no contact after I get most of my stuff

-November-

I move back to my mom's house

[riverthebooknerd]

I LIED IT DOES NOT GET BETTER

y'all are in for a BIG FUCKING VENT (and by y'all i mean my octopus squishmellow and maybe one mutual)

so yesterday my family was planning on having a big thanksgiving dinner (because my brothers weren't able to on thursday, so we decided to have it yesterday instead).

i had to work yesterday, but i got off around dinnertime and my parents said that we'd have dinner when i got home.

and so i got off work, right? said adios to my coworkers, and i was actually off a bit early so all i had to do was drive home. easy.

except.

when i got in my car i realized that i was almost out of gas. i had enough to get home, but i figured since i was off early, i had enough time to stop by the gas station and fill up my tank real quick. hell, there was even a gas station on the way to my house! i had it all planned out nice in my head- grab some gas, get home right in time for dinner, annoy the shit out of my brothers.

...except.

listen. listen. i ain't the greatest with directions on a good day. so, even though the gas station was pretty close, i decided to pull up the directions on my phone. BUT my phone was fucking dead. so i was like yeah, okay, y'know what? i can probably find my way there without the map. it's not even that far, so i should be fine, i thought.

like a dumbass.

...i got lost. i got very, very lost. i took one wrong turn, and then another, and then another, and the next thing i knew i was in a completely unfamiliar area.

at night. with a nearly empty tank. and a dead phone.

and so i start freaking out, right? and so i decided to just pick a random direction and start driving, praying that i find a gas station or something before i ran outta gas.

also- fun fact about me! i am slightly nearsighted. not enough to the point where i legally need to wear glasses while i'm driving, but i usually wear them anyways because i can't see too well far away or when i'm driving at night. except, yesterday, i accidentally left them in my other bag. which was at home.

so, imagine you're me, right? you don't know where the fuck you are, your tank is dangerously close to empty, your phone is dead, you're driving in an area where there's nothing in fucking sight (not even a MCDONALD'S- just a bunch of farmland), your family is waiting on you to have dinner and they're probably freaking out since it's been over half an hour since you said you'd be home, and on top of it all you can barely see a thing (i could hardly see the street signs- probably part of the reason why i got so lost in the first place).

needless to say, i was close to fucking tears.

but i couldn't cry because that would make it even HARDER to see, so i just kept on driving. and thankfully, eventually, miraculously, i found a frys with a gas station!! still had no clue where i was, but i filled up my tank and then walked inside.

i tried to find a charger, but the place didn't have any, so then i just walked around aimlessly, trying to work up the nerve to ask someone for help.

finally, after like ten minutes of battling with social anxiety, i went up to the help desk. hands shaking, voice wavering, extremely close to sobbing, i looked at the lady behind the desk and said in one breath, "this-is-gonna-sound-kinda-weird-but-i'm-lost-and-my-phone-is-dead-and-i-don't-know-how-to-get-home-so-could-i-borrow-your-phone-real-quick-and-just-make-a-quick-call?"

the lady was understandably confused, and i started rambling and explaining what happened, probably sniffing and wiping my eyes a couple of times. after a few minutes, once i managed to explain my predicament in a comprehensible manner, she asked me, "oh, so you need a phone charger?"

and yes. yes i did. i needed to call my parents and look up directions on the map. i nodded and she took pity on me. she pointed to the starbucks inside of the frys and said, "the girls over at the coffee shop have a charger you can use. don't you worry, i trust them. here, i'll walk you over."

and so the lady walked with me, explained to the starbucks girls that i needed to borrow a charger, and then went back to the desk. there were two girls, and they appeared to be closing up shop. the taller one grabbed a charger that was plugged into the counter. it wasn't very long, so i basically had to lean over the counter to plug my phone in. i glanced at the other girl, and that's when i realized something. you want to know what it was?

i realized that that girl was my childhood friend that i haven't seen in years because we parted on unspeakably bad terms.

the horror was indescribable. we made eye contact and i swiftly looked away, veins turned to ice. i prayed she didn't recognize me. my appearance is vastly different from the last time we'd seen each other.

while i was waiting for my phone to charge, i had nothing to do except just stand there silently. the minutes ticked by unfairly slow. people kept staring at me- probably wondering why this random teenager with bright hair and watery eyes was just standing next to a closed starbucks all alone, tense as fuck and more awkward than a middle school dance. my ex-friend didn't say anything, barely even looked at me. she either didn't recognize me or was actively ignoring me- and i'm not sure which is worse.

i kept staring at her- which was creepy, i'm sure, but she looked... well, she looked like she was doing okay. i had actually been wondering about her a few days ago- just, like, what was she up to, whether she was alright. we may have parted on bad terms, but i didn't hate her. anymore, at least, i wasn't fucking twelve anymore.

but she looked okay. she no longer had constant bags under her eyes, and she chatted with her coworker as they cleaned the place up. i even heard her giggle a coupla times. it was good to know that at least one of us was having a somewhat decent night.

after what felt like an eternity of waiting, i checked my phone, and- it hadn't been charging.

the charger didn't fucking work.

i only had one option. i waited until my ex-friend had walked away a little bit, and then i timidly called out to the other girl and told her that my phone wasn't charging.

she grabbed another charger, one that actually worked, and i thanked her. and promptly returned to waiting for my phone to charge.

once it had enough battery to turn on, i called my dad. the cable was too short to bring up to my ear, so i had to put it on speaker.

ring.

ring.

ring.

ring.

ring.

ring.

ring.

ring.

i'm sorry, the person you're trying to reach-

it went. to fucking. voicemail.

so then i called my mom. i did not particularly want to call her. my dad would've been the better of the two for this kind of situation, but i figured i should let her know that i wasn't dead.

she picked up on the first ring. she wanted to know where the fuck i was. i tried explaining- it was difficult when she was interrupting me every two seconds, but i managed. the starbucks girls were kind enough to pretend they weren't listening.

"why didn't you just-"

"i know, i'm sorry, i-''

"you worried everyone! your dad left, he went out looking for you!"

"i didn't mean to get lost, i'm-"

"well, hurry home! we've all been waiting on you to eat! this dinner is really important to us, you know!"

my throat clogged at the sharpness of her words. i gave a weak response, something like a shaky okay. my phone was at four percent.

i jerkily unplugged my phone. as fast as i could, without looking at anyone, i marched out of the store. talking to my mom broke something inside me, and i started to cry. my mom was one of the few people who had that power- because most of the time, it's very, very hard to make me cry.

as i was walking out the doors, i passed by a family, pointedly not looking at them whilst trying to wipe my face. the dad said, "you doin' okay, kiddo?" and my lower lip quivered. i bit it, and nodded, walking even faster, speed-walking to my car with tears pouring down my face.

with a blurry vision and hands that were trembling far too much, it was difficult to pull up my address on my phone, but i managed it. turns out, i'd accidentally driven to another goddamn city. i started driving home, trying to breathe deeply to calm myself down. it worked, for about ten minutes. until, despite the map, i took a wrong turn.

that's when i started sobbing.

and i don't mean crying, by the way, not the pretty cryin that they do in movies. not the crying i was doing before.

i mean fucking sobbing.

snot running down my face, screaming, hyperventilating, the whole bitch ass shebang.

it was bad. and i was still driving.

i heavily considered not even going home. my relationship with my family is complicated at best, downright shit at worst. i love them, of course i fucking love them, but i knew that they would bring me no comfort. i really wanted a hug. i wanted to go to my friend's house- because she'd hug me and talk to me softly and tell me that i'm okay, and that it's okay to be scared.

because i had been scared. i'd been fucking terrified.

i knew that i couldn't, though- i was already over an hour late for dinner, and they were all waiting on me. so i drove home as fast as i could; my phone died again, but by the time it did, i was back in an area i recognized. i was sobbing the entire time, until i parked in the driveway and forced myself to calm down. i used some napkins i kept in the glovebox to wipe my face. glancing in the mirror, i looked like absolute shit. puffy eyes, red nose, snot stuck on my septum piercing. i rubbed my face, got out of the car, and walked inside.

i sat at the dinner table. everyone was looking at me. quickly, and with as little emotion as possible, i told them what had happened. they moved past it surprisingly fast. everyone was hungry. my dad said a prayer, and everyone dug into the dishes.

i made it as far as piling mashed potatoes on my plate before i quietly excused myself and went to the bathroom, where i promptly began sobbing again- quieter, this time, though. i'd mastered the art of crying silently years ago.

i don't know how long it took me to compose myself again. probably around ten minutes. nobody mentioned it when i walked back into the dining room. my dad started telling a joke, and then my brother did, and then we were all going around the table sharing riddles and it was a normal, happy family dinner.

i had a glass of wine, debated whether i could get drunk without my parents noticing before deciding it was probably best not to. then we ate some pie- my mom made pecan, which is one of my favorites. by the time dinner was done, i was feeling better.

my brother gave me a hug. i wanted it to last more than two seconds.

I THINK THAT IF I AM UNDER ANY MORE STRESS I JUST MIGHT GO INSANE

BOY oh boy life sure is fun when you're nearly crying on a plane because you have to be at work in three hours and you have an essay due tonight and nobody is picking up your shift and you accidentally had a meltdown at your grandma's birthday party and your parents are trash-talking your relatives because thanksgiving was TENSE and you still have a million things to do and people keep asking you about where you want to go for college and your cousin was being creepy to your little sister and you really want to fucking quit your job but you need money for gas and christmas presents and you chugged two mountain dews and you think you have the beginnings of a migraine and your phone is about to die and you didn't sleep last night and aaceijciueanicneaimkxsmnxijasnidnu

EIGHT HOURS LATER: okay fam i wrote that on the plane and WOWZA ahaha don't worry i took a nap on the plane and then i ate a little snack and i called in from work and i got my homework done on time. still not doin great but hey life does get better. pain is temporary and all that jazz

bonus:

me, typing all of this while i'm trying not to cry on a plane: i can feel my bones and it's fucking nauseating

me, a few hours later when i'm feeling better: woah! that was kind of a lot. sorry guys 😊

[symbi-eat-me]

Follow the Leader [Glitchtrap x female!Reader 18+ Smut]

[WARNINGS/TAGS?: Female coochie-owning reader, SMUT!!!! with plot, heavy mind control, dubious consent/non-con, pet names, reader being instructed, fucking a bunny furry virus???]

Summary: You've been working on the Fazbear Virtual Experience for a while now, and tired of being overworked you've finally decided to take the mysterious virus plaguing the game head-on. However, the virus may be a little more...technical to deal with than you originally thought, and it has bigger plans for you.

Uploaded this on AO3 months and months ago and somehow forgot to post it here lmao. I should probably be jailed for this, but I stand by the concept of Glitchtrap being hot. If u find that weird (valid) don’t read this, you’ll hate it. Also I headcanon Glitchtrap as being the fragmented soul of William Afton, its not super prevalent at all in this fic but probably important to know that Glitchtrap is HUMAN, the bunny suit is just the form he takes within the game.

PSA there's definitely a bunch of errors in the language I used regarding game design and whatnot, I tried my best !!!

________

________

You slammed your car door a little harder than you had intended to. Sighing, you grasped your bag and made for the front of the building. Another day, another 8 hour shift.

Although it was something you'd never admit, you really did like your job. But fuck, was it tiring - especially at the minute with your current project. You worked in games development at a small studio in your nowhere town. To your initial excitement, Fazbear Entertainment (the company that had enlightened your entire childhood) had hired your company to develop their new game.

At first, everyone had been bouncing off the walls with excitement about the project. It was so much bigger than anything you'd ever done before, but you were all ecstatic to make it happen. Within a few weeks however, it was clear than they had hired your small company to maximise their profits - work you to the bone and pay you pennies since it got you 'exposure'. Despite this, your manager was confident that it would turn out well (and whatever they were paying was clearly good money). Sure. He didn't seem to be as happy when Fazbear Entertainment shipped you bucket loads of shitty old circuit boards with the vague instructions of 'use these to make it faster'. And he certainly wasn't happy when your team had spent the last 2 weeks scanning the boards for any scraps of usable code, only to find out that they were housing some kind of age old virus.

So that's where you were now. You weren't so sure anymore that this game was going to be the big break for Silver Parasol Games, not when you were spending every shift attempting to dig out some seemingly invisible trojan horse instead of working on the actual game.

You sighed again as you slipped in behind your desk, mumbling a greeting at Anna when you passed by her. While your computer loaded up, your eyes wandered around the room until you settled on staring at your coworker, Jeremy. His back was facing you, and he seemed to be rooting around for something in a drawer.

Jeremy was a nice guy, he really was. He worked as a part of the quality assurance team, so he mainly spent his time testing the game. He was the one who flagged up this mysterious virus that no one else had been able to catch properly. You knew Anna and Raha had both seen it, so it was definitely real, but the stress was clearly getting to Jeremy most of all. It was like he'd seen a ghost most of the time. He used to chat to you on your lunch break, quite often. But now he never seemed to be away from the game, muttering to himself and making notes, presumably on the bugs he came across. Made your job easier, you supposed.

It was strange, and you'd been so backed up working on the game with your insanely tight deadlines that you'd hardly had time to think about it. But now, seeing him hunched over whatever he was looking for...it was uncanny and made you a little nervous. Your superiors didn't care much for any of you, especially Jeremy. They treated him like he was crazy. Hell, the stress of these deadlines would make anyone crazy. You really didn't blame him for acting a little off every now and then.

Finally he grasped something and wandered off again, in the direction of the testing room.

You tried to push it to the back of your mind, which was more than easy as you checked your pile of emails and anticipated how much you had to do today...

-

The day had passed by at a snails pace, and you'd even volunteered to stay behind to finish scanning the last few circuit boards Fazbear Entertainment had shipped. You glanced outside as you finished up, it was almost completely dark already.

Exhausted, you began to pack up your things. Once again, you felt your eyes drift to the desk that Jeremy had been stood over earlier. You were suddenly reminded of everything that had been going on with him. As frustrating as it was proving to be, this game really was important to you at this point. If you wanted to cut down these late hours and sleepless nights, you had to see this virus for yourself.

Without giving yourself time to consider, you shoved your bag back under your desk and headed for the testing room.

You had played the game before, of course. It was part of the job, you couldn't program without seeing the final product as you went along. From Jeremy's mumbled description, the bug seemed to be a visual issue, something about it latching onto one of the character models. However, it only seemed to show itself in specific situations in the final version of the game. And it seemed to like Jeremy - he must have unknowingly found some way to trigger it or found a spot of weakness in the code. Something like that, anyway.

The room was dark, with the blinds all closed securely. You didn't want to bother with any of that, since you were going to leave in a few minutes anyway, so flipped on the weak overhead light.

You slipped on the VR headset that sat on the table in the middle of the room and prepared yourself. Every time you loaded up the game, a sense of pride swelled in your chest. It was nowhere near done yet, of course, but just seeing what your small team had managed to achieve so far was...nice.

You weren't so much of a horror fan yourself, and the sickening gaze of Freddy on the title screen was still enough to make you feel uneasy. As the music started up and you stood in the main hub of the game, you felt your heartbeat rise a little. You were suddenly very aware of how alone you were in the empty studio, and the thought of Jeremy made your palms clammy.

You took a deep breath, telling yourself not to be so stupid.

Glancing around, you focused on the task at hand. You were unsure of how to trigger the virus itself or where it even was. Jeremy was pretty clear in that it had just shown up out of thin air, after he'd played for hours. You hoped it wouldn't take you that long to find it.

After flipping through the few finished levels, you selected night 1 and got started. You knew this game like the back of your hand, so you powered through it like it was light work. Despite knowing the precise mechanics, the unpredictability of the AI still shook you a little. You flipped a light on to your left after hearing footsteps, and felt your heart race as Bonnie stared right at you.

Fuck, the design team did such a good job on these models. They were still terrifying no matter how many times you played.

After a few rounds, you tapped your heels irritably. You didn't even know what you were looking for, not really. You had stupidly thought it would be obvious. Viruses didn't work that way, you should know that more than anyone.

Back in the main hub now, you continually flipped through the available levels and sighed. You should probably leave, it was getting late.

You stepped away from the console and turned to your right slightly, readying yourself to remove the headset. That was, until you heard a light buzzing noise in your right ear. You glanced more over to the direction of the sound, and gasped.

That was it.

It must be.

At first it looked like a green blur, easily distinguished as an issue with the graphics. But within a few moments of staring, you could discern the shape of a rabbit. You'd never seen this character before, but seemed to recall Jeremy briefly mentioning a rabbit.

That was the virus alright.

It was almost...scary. It just stood in the far doorway, staring and staring and staring and waving its hand at you. It was hardly even visible without focusing your eyes on it. You couldn't tell if it was supposed to be an animatronic or something else. It was fucking weird, whatever it was.

"Y        o     u."

You nearly jumped out of your skin. The soft buzz that it was releasing had paused, only for a moment. In its place had been a whisper, of sorts. It was glitchy and hardly discernable but you could still make it out.

"a    r e      n o t      h i    m."

Your breathing was practically shallow gasps now. It hadn't moved, it still just stood there. But it was...talking?

"H-hello?" you tried.

"Y   o   u         a     r  e     n  e     w."

It was almost like it was struggling to talk. It separated syllables strangely as it spoke, and the crackling glitchy buzz that overlaid every word made it difficult to process.

You couldn't understand it - this character that you had no knowledge of had its own completely independent AI. You had a horrifying moment where you considered whether this was what Jeremy had been doing for the last few months. That's why he was so stressed? He'd been programming this character all on his own? But why?

"I-I'm not new, I made this game," you spoke. You couldn't help feeling embarrassed, you were shamefully aware of how you were just speaking into an empty room.

"Y o    u g  a v e  m  e l    i    f e."

It almost hurt to listen to, with every word you felt your head aching. It felt like it was drilling into your skull, but you knew it must be because of the sharp noises it was making.

"I-I think Jeremy made you," you said. It was stupid, you knew, to speak to an AI like this. But it must have some sort of question answering system within it, for it to be able to respond in the way it was.

A deep noise rumbled from it, sounding almost like a laugh, "h    e   c     o   u    l       d n    e v     e    r."

A sudden thought gripped you, out of nowhere. "If I play the game will it be easier for you?"

You weren't sure where the idea came from, but you figured it was worth a shot. It only showed up after you'd played a few rounds in the first place.

It didn't respond, only seemed to hold completely still for a few seconds before continuing to wave again. You took that as a go-ahead and loaded up a fnaf 3 game. Anxiously, you glanced around you when you'd loaded into the office. It wasn't there, of course. It must have been anchored to the lobby somehow.

Your hands were shaking a little as you flipped through the cameras. Springtrap stared intently at you wherever you seemed to look, and it reminded you of the virus rabbit in a strange way. It made you uncomfortable.

Fuck, video error.

As quickly as you could, you flipped open the console to your left and fixed the error. You were anxious to open the cameras for a brief moment and simply stared at the little Bonnie figure on the desk.

To your dismay, when you finally got yourself to flip through the cameras again, you'd lost Springtrap. You hurriedly checked the vents, but he was nowhere to be found. Your heart beat in your throat when a ventilation error message blared at you. You knew this game, why were you fucking up so much? You could hardly think straight, let alone process what you were doing.

As you flipped through the console, you heard footsteps and quickly pulled it down. Dragging a weak scream from your chest, Springtrap jumped at you and ended your game. Taking a moment with your eyes scrunched closed to compose yourself, you tried to steady your breathing. This game had never made you feel like that before, and you hoped it never would again.

Apprehensively you opened your eyes, to find yourself at the game over screen. The console in front of you blared, and you prepared to press the return to menu button. However, your eyes flipped over the console again, making your heart rate race again.

Follow the leader, the screen read.

You definitely hadn't programmed that in. And no one else had, to your knowledge. The words seemed to bounce around in your mind, never settling but making you feel foggy.

When you returned to the hub, it was like you could feel breathing down your neck. Tentatively, you turned around.

It was closer to you this time, much closer. It was only a few feet away, instead of being in the far doorway. Now, you could get a much clearer look at it. It wasn't an animatronic at all, instead some kind of costume. You could clearly see stitches on the fabric, and stains that covered its body. It was a rabbit, but had big human-like hands that made you uneasy. Its smile was uncanny and seemed to pull at its cheeks, exposing big white buck teeth and a deep black void behind them. Its glaring purple eyes weren't directly looking at you, instead they looked off into the distance, but you had a sudden vision of them coming to life and twisting to stare right at you.  For a character model, it was sickeningly detailed. You began to question if Jeremy was behind this after all.

You felt ill.

It continued waving, just like before, crouching over oddly, like it was trying to get down to your level considering it's tall stature. If it were real, it would have towered over you at at least six and a half feet. It still had a nasty green glare to it, but now it was closer it appeared less blurred, and you could see the purple waistcoat and bow tie it wore.

"G   o   o  d," it said.

You could've sworn it sounded clearer now, like the white noise it emitted was starting to clear to make room for its voice. Its movements paused for a moment, again appearing as though it was thinking. Like it was considering its options.

The silence was beginning to scare you. Visions of Jeremy clouded your mind - hiding in the storage cabinet, watching you sneak to the testing room, smiling wickedly as he snuck up behind you with a knife. You felt sick again, and shoved the thought deep down. Why would you even think that? Your mind was playing sick tricks on you.

Suddenly you wanted nothing more than to take the headset off and glance around you. It had been a while and you finally craved the stability of the real world.

“N   O."

Your attention snapped to the rabbit and your knees went weak. It didn’t exactly shout but it might as well have done, the voice was so strong and flung around your skull in a way that made you dizzy.

“N     A   M    E.”

It took a moment for you to process its words, but you complied. You told it your name in a barely audible whisper while unable to rip your eyes away from its own. The soft movement of its hand, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, mirrored your own heartbeat.

It didn’t respond, again just staring at you. You grappled with the idea of simply tugging the headset off and leaving it all behind. That was a bad idea, you decided. You didn’t know why.

Despite this, the silence was killing you. You needed to know how this thing worked. In some strange attempt to get answers, you began relaying facts about yourself. “I’ve been working here for 4 years, since I graduated. This game is the biggest project I’ve had to deal with so far.” You continued spewing out details of your background almost mechanically. You spoke of your work, how you lived alone, how you spent your time, and probably more - the words started to mangle together in your mind. Your body felt heavy and warm as you spoke. You could hardly think - you felt as though you were on autopilot. Everything came naturally, the words you spoke and even the position of your head while your eyes kept fixated on it. With every second that passed, you felt more and more of your mind slipping away. It didn't feel bad, in fact you welcomed it. It felt completely natural to let go.

What you were giving your consciousness to, you didn't know.

Your limbs felt fuzzy, in a complete state of relaxation. You had stopped speaking minutes ago, you managed to realise. How strange.

It only took a second after that. All you saw was the rabbit stop waving. It's eyes flickered back to your own with a low tilt of its head, it was finally looking directly at you. In one swift movement it stood to its full height in front of you, and seemed to breathe.

A crackling glitchy noise filled your ears as this happened, before everything went completely silent. The soft buzz of the console was all you could hear to fill the void as you looked up at it.

"G o o d l i t t l e b u n n y," it said.

You hardly had the energy to respond, simply staring blankly back at it. Its voice had changed again, becoming almost completely stable. You could hear it perfectly clearly now, vibrating in the back of your head as though it was your consciousness itself. Like it had replaced your thoughts with its own.

It sounded like a man's voice now, deep with a slight accent. Despite that, it was still not quite human. There was something about how the tone changed, how a static noise accompanied every word, how the vowels were drawn out for slightly too long. You couldn't put your finger on what it was, but you knew it wasn't human.

You managed to break from your trance enough to speak freely and gain feeling back in your body, but it still felt like it held a leash around you.

"What are you?" you asked as clearly as you could.

It laughed, "I a m  t h e  s h a d o w  o f  a  s i n n e r,  t h e  s o u l  o f  a  v e r y  b a d  m a n."

You held back a gasp as he bent down to your eye level again, and reached a gloved hand to your jaw before continuing, "s o  y o u  h a d  b e t t e r  b e h a v e."

The hand on your face wasn't solid, he was still a hologram within the game. But you felt a weak weight on your skin, like a shadow, just like he said.

You felt yourself nodding at him, open-mouthed.

He moved freely now in jolting movements. Rather than moving in a solid motion, it was like he was comprised of a slideshow of images.

"T h e  d e s k," he raised an arm to gesture behind you.

He didn't need to say more, his words were laced with subtext that you somehow understood on impulse. You remembered, there was a desk behind you in the real world. Carefully, you backed up until your thighs hit a solid wooden surface. It took some maneuvering since you were practically blind, but you managed to hoist yourself up onto the surface so you were sitting on the very edge.

"G o o d  b u n n y," he praised. There was more distance between you now, but the confounds of the game made it so you couldn't move significantly far away from him.

In a way, you were trapped.

Your head was buzzing and hazy, and your entire body was so warm. You'd never felt anything like it. If you could imagine what being a part of a video game would feel like - this would be it.

A particular warmth settled in your abdomen - strange but not unwelcome. Your mind was frazzled enough not to question it.

"I t s  b e e n  s o  l o n g," he murmured.

You didn't know what he was referring to, but didn't care much to find out. A wave of need overcame you and clouded any thoughts you might have. A need to submit. You noted his tall and intimidating stature, which had been terrifying to begin with, but seemed captivating to you now that you considered it.

“Y o u  a r e  g o i n g  t o  h e l p  s e t  m e  f r e e.”

Your hands were clammy against the cold wood of the desk. It was becoming much too warm in the room but you couldn't do anything about it, not daring (or wanting) to turn away from him.

“D o e s  t h a t  s c a r e  y o u?”

Freezing up, your voice caught in your throat. The incessant hammering of your heart in your chest was telling you that you were scared. But your mind was telling you something...different. You began to nod, but instead ended with confusedly shaking your head.

"S o  m i n d l e s s  a l r e a d y," his grin almost seemed to deepen.

His words rattled through your head, echoing and making you sleepy. As hard as you tried, you couldn't concentrate, couldn't process a single complete thought. It was nice, in some strange way. You didn't have the mind to question it, at that point. All your mind kept drifting back to was him, his words and his eyes that looked you up and down.

He chuckled, a low rumbling noise that felt as though it swallowed you whole.

"L e t  m e  h e l p."

Against any conscious decision of your own, your hand moved up underneath your shirt. The line was completely blurred between what you were making your body do and what he had control over. Either way, you welcomed it.

You grasped at your shirt more firmly and lifted it over your head, before hurriedly repeating the action with your bra. His chuckling repeated, the low echoing noise reverberating down your body. Your eyes were blurry as you struggled to keep them open, but you could still make out his large glassy eyes staring directly into your own from where he stood.

With you hardly noticing, your fingers tugged your trousers down. You let out an unintended sigh at the air hitting your clammy skin.

"G o o d b u n n y."

One hand grasped at your chest, while the other traced over your underwear. A passing thought made you aware of how wet you were, evidence of how intensely worked up he'd somehow managed to make you.

Your nerves felt as though they were burning. You'd never felt need or sensitivity like it in your life.

"P r o v e  y o u r  d e v o t i o n."

You hardly had a mind to nod as you yanked your underwear down your thighs. Your fingers thrust into your heat, not giving time to treat yourself delicately. Although your eyes were clenched shut, the feeling of his glowing eyes pierced into you. Again and again your fingers curled into you while your palm hit your clit with every movement. Your spare hand dug its nails into your chest, surely leaving rows of scratches as if you'd been mauled by a wild animal.

The buzzing static in your ears dazed you. The sensation in your cunt made you whine pathetically. The rabbit that watched you, controlled you, made your head tip back and your back arch.

A string of pleas left your throat as you felt your peak surfacing at a much quicker rate than you were used to.

"L o o k  a t  m e."

Your eyes shot open to see him standing over you. In your position, you were close enough to lying back on the desk, but still had to crane your neck to look him in the eyes as he towered above your compliant body. He did nothing but stand there, but the buzzing feeling of him so close to you made your skin itch and crave his approval.

"Y o u  h a v e  b e e n  s u c h  a  g o o d  b u n n y. J u s t  p r o v e  y o u r  l o y a l t y  t o  m e."

Yielding whimpers escaped your lips as your fingers curled to hit the spots that made your thighs clench together. "I'll be good, I'm yours, please," you repeated again and again.

The sound of him chuckling while watching your shaking body sent you over the edge. You whined and begged as your hands barely stopped digging into you despite your overstimulated state, like a possession had completely taken you over.

After minutes of you gasping for his mercy, you had finally relaxed. The gentle static of the room started to consume your ears again as the blood rushing to them calmed. Your mind remained blank, hardly remembering where you were, only thinking of him.

"W e l l  d o n e  m y  l i t t l e  b u n n y. W e  a r e  g o i n g  t o  h a v e  f u n."