#this is me finally having the brain capacity to think back on my weekend with jenni

[foxcassius]

im someone who thinks of themself as pretty selfconscious and anxious, especially when it comes to being out in public in korea, but sometimes when i hang out with someone else they will start freaking out about something and there's nothing i think other than like. idk man have you considered choosing to not give a fuck about that.

[garciaasfluffypen]

things are changing (and only for the better)

pairing: jemily x adhd!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: dialouge heavy, alcohol use, discussions of ethical non-monagamy/polyamory a/n: please please PLEASE tell me if i get anything about polyamory wrong in this series. i myself am not polyamorous, and i want to do this justice. if i'm doing anything wrong or harmful in my writing please let me know.

it had been weeks since you had a girls night with emily and jj, and you were thanking all the gods out there that you finally got to have one. 

the team had been whisked off on three back to back cases, leaving everyone begging for the weekend off. once it was granted, the first text you got before you even left the office was a message from jj stating “our house, wine, 30 minutes?” with an outstanding “YES PLEASE!!” being sent back within seconds of receiving the text from your favorite blonde. emily and jj had been amazing to you since figuring out about your adhd diagnosis, and knew how deliberating it could be if you weren’t on your medication. the inattentiveness had been your downfall multiple times, but your team knew how to accommodate you and make sure all of your needs were met to ensure you could work at your full capacity. specifically jj and emily. 

being on the medication around the team was very important to you. it was something you had been weary of, keeping them from seeing your adhd funks. it still was something you didn’t want to subject them too just yet. despite being on the team for a few years and being friends with them for longer, you had done a good job at keeping the full nature of your funks away from the team and frankly… you wanted to keep it that way. the only person who had seen you in your funk so far was hotch, but that was because you had fallen asleep at the office on a thursday night and didn’t get the chance to pick up your meds on the way home from work. and besides, you didn’t want to hear it from them, about how stupid you were for not taking your medication when you relied on it to keep your brain from shutting down. it had happened before, you forgot your meds at your apartment and had a date that ultimately ended up in you staying at your exes place. when you woke up the next morning and realized, they were upset when they realized you would be in one of your funks and practically shoved you out the door. 

you’d hate yourself if you lost emily and jj like that. 

you shook yourself out of your thoughts and grabbed the fruit platter you had picked up from sam’s club on the way to the house, heading over to the side door that you knew led straight to the kitchen. emily and jj were quietly talking to themselves by the counter, sending a wave of worry through you. they couldn’t be talking about you, right? they invited you over, they wanted you here, they--

“y/n!” jj’s eyes lit up as she saw you, coming over and pulling you in for a hug. “i was starting to think you didn’t want to come.”

“i wanted to get the fruit platter you guys like.” you sheepishly replied, a red hue covering your cheeks. “i felt bad coming empty handed.” 

“you know you don’t have to bring us anything, lovey.” 

your heart jolted as emily called you lovey, the nickname naturally falling out of her lips. lovey… you liked that.  

“i know, but i wanted to.” you shrugged. “it's the least i can do for all you’ve done with me the past couple weeks.” 

“you having proper accommodations is important, y/n. we want you to be comfortable.” 

you smiled at the brunette. “it means a lot to me, really, and i never really properly thanked you for being so attentive to everything.” 

jj came to squeeze your hand. “you don’t need to thank us. just being here is more than enough.” 

the blush found it's way back to your cheeks as you looked down, barely registering the look emily and jj shared before you felt a finger under your chin, lifting it to make you look into emily’s eyes. that was something new, something she had never done with you before. 

and you… liked it? 

“what were you feeling for dinner?”

“i’m not super picky,” you paused. “on nights like these i typically do something easy like mac and cheese or ramen or something but we don’t have to do that if you guys want something else.” 

emily chuckled, a loving glint in her eye. “if you want mac and cheese, we can get mac and cheese.” 

“i don’t want to make you guys special order me mac and cheese, you really don’t--”

“y/n.” jj locked eyes with you. “it’s on us tonight, promise. go put on your cozy clothes and get comfortable, yeah? we’ll get dinner set.” 

“i don’t want to be a bother…” 

“you’re never a bother, not to us.” jj paused. “is your rejection dysphoria acting up again?” 

“a little bit.” 

“do you want to talk about it?”

“can i get a glass of wine in my system before we talk about it?”

“of course. now go get cozy, i’m ready to curl up on the couch and shit talk all the stupid people we’ve run into over the past few weeks.” 

jj watched you as you chuckled and sauntered off to the main room before quickly turning around and running to grab your go bag before heading back in. emily came up and wrapped her arms around jj from behind, placing her head on the blonde’s shoulder. 

“y’know, this could be the last moments of us without y/n in our lives.”

“emily!” jj swatted at her arm. “don’t you dare say that.” 

“i’m just saying!” emily shot jj a joking look. “considering how they reacted to the finger under the chin, i doubt that will be an issue we’ll need to worry about, though.” 

“i hope so.” jj turned so she was facing emily. “i really like them, i like them a lot. and i want them to know that i can love both of you equally.” 

“and we’ll explain it to them if they decide they want to be our girlfriend, yeah?” emily squeezed jj’s hands. “we’ll take it one step at a time.” 

“do you think they like us?” 

“i would sure hope so, or else they wouldn’t be here.” emily looked to jj. “do you think they don’t like us?”

“it’s hard to tell with them, i’ll be honest. i’m just nervous they’re going to say no and everything is going to be messed up. i don’t even know if we fully explained the polyamory thing to them.” 

“i don’t think we did either, now that i’m thinking about it.” emily bit her lip. “okay so we start with that then.” 

“we start with that.”

emily and jj found a restaurant with something all three of you would want before ordering, making sure it would be there in a timely manner before heading out into the living room. emily went to change into her comfy clothes first, leaving her in a pair of yale sweatpants and an old shirt of jj’s that neither of them knew the origins of. returning with the wine she had been itching to pull out all week, emily plopped herself down on the couch and handed you a glass, smiling at you fondly as you took it while you bounced a mile a minute, talking about something you had seen on tik tok on the jet earlier. jj changed into the flannel pants she had stolen from emily eons ago, a pale blue oversized t shirt sitting on her small frame. jj came and sat on the other side of you, the way the three of you typically sat during girls nights, both women giving you all the attention you could desire while on one of your tangents. 

something was off, though. you could feel the vibe shift about an hour and a half into the night, your meals all discarded on the coffee table while you and emily nursed another glass of wine. jj had opted for her favorite beer at that point, the bottle opener sitting next to an empty styrofoam container with the discards of jj’s meal. your energy slowly faded as the dread started to set in, the rejection sensitive dysphoria feelings coming in full swing. you felt yourself start to get into a daze, fingers playing with the hem of your tee as you stared off into space. it took emily a minute to realize what was happening before she placed a supportive arm around you and pulled you close, placing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“what’s up, y/n?”

“the vibe is off.” you said, quieter than you had been the rest of the night. “something’s wrong.” 

“well, we did want to tell you something.” jj started. “it’s not bad. nothing bad is happening right now, but we were holding off on telling you in case you didn’t…” she paused. “how do i say this without sounding like an asshole?”

“we’re scared that you’ll see us differently after we tell you what we want to talk to you about.” 

“okay…” you looked between them, noticing genuine concern. “i’m gonna need more wine, aren’t i?” 

emily chuckled, the smile you know and love crossing her features. “well, that depends on how you take what we’re about to tell you.”

“i don’t need to be scared, right?” 

“not at all.” jj squeezed your hand, coming closer to you on the couch and leaning into your other side. “unless you see like a ghost or something. then you can be scared.” 

you chuckled. “i doubt there’s going to be a ghost in your house, jayje.” 

“you never know!” jj smiled slightly, glad that you weren’t too deep into the feeling of despair and could joke with her. “all kidding aside, are you in a mental state to have this conversation or do you want to sober up a little bit?” 

“no no, i’m okay.” you nodded. “as long as i don’t stand up. that’s when it’s all going to go to my head.” 

“understandable.” emily rested her cheek against the top of your head. “remember how you saw me talking to tara about that girl i saw who i wanted to get to know?”

“um.. i think so. the one from the coffee shop?”

“exactly.” emily paused. “it didn’t work out, unfortunately, but that was partially because we hadn’t even began talking about this.” 

“so, as you know, we've been exploring the idea of… seeing other people.”  jj piped in, pausing to pick her next words carefully. “but we never fully explained to you what we meant by that.”

“we’ve been exploring polyamory.” it was emily’s turn to pause, gauging your reaction. “the two of us, sharing another partner.”

“cool.” you smiled, relieved it wasn’t something horrible. ”have you found anyone yet?” 

you could have sworn you saw both emily and jj visibly relax. 

“well, thats the thing. we’re not sure if they realized they were being flirted with… or that we’re interested in them that way.” 

you popped a grape in your mouth. “tell me everything, how does this work? wait! tell me about them!” 

emily smiled. “well, they’re easily one of our favorite people ever.” 

“have you known them long?” 

“about five years, give or take. em, when did we meet them?” 

“god, what was it… christmas of twenty nineteen, right?” 

interesting. you met the team in twenty nineteen after penelope dragged you to a girls night just after thanksgiving. what a coincidence. 

“they’ve been friends with us for a while. we’ve only recently started flirting with them about six months ago.” 

jj smiled fondly. “although like em said, we can’t tell if they’ve realized we’re flirting with them yet.”

“so they’re a bit aloof. that’s charming.” you smiled at them. “i’m so glad you guys found someone, i fully thought you guys were flirting with me these past few months.” 

there was an awkward pause. 

“wait… why are you… am i the someone?” 

emily cleared her throat, grabbing for her glass of wine. oh. 

oh.

“i am the someone.” 

“we like you, y/n.” jj grabbed your hand. “more than a friend. and i know that sounds weird, and you can say no- we’re not pressuring you to do anything or make any decisions tonight.” 

“i…” you paused. “how did you… are you guys okay? like, relationship wise?”

“we’re more than okay, i promise.” emily squeezed your other hand. 

“we’ve been talking about it, just the two of us, for a few months.” jj licked her lips. “the only other person who knows is tara, she’s gotten us in touch with a great support group that has everything we need to know about getting started.” 

“both of us realized we wanted something more, but didn’t want to end things at all.” emily explained. “we figured out that both of us had too much love to share with just one person, we wanted to share it with someone else.” 

“so… wait, can i ask questions?” 

“of course, babe.” 

“how would this work? the three of us?” you paused. “you’re… married.” 

“we know it won’t be easy, since you’ll never be able to officially legally be with both of us unless some magical law goes into effect that changes the world's view on polyamory. but, it would be like any normal relationship, but you would get both myself and jj. there would be boundaries and rules, and we would talk about those only if you want to give us a shot.” 

“we would want you to be as happy and relaxed and comfortable as you can be. everything is open to be talked about, especially when it comes to your comfort levels. and like we said, you can tell us to shut up whenever you want and we would.”

“and if i were to ask to kiss emily?” 

“then i would say yes, do it.”

“and the same goes for jj?”

“i would want you to do what makes you the happiest.” jj kicked emily’s shin. “i mean, i’d say yes.” 

“sorry i’m… i’m trying to wrap my brain around this. it’s being slow. you guys like me?” 

emily chuckled. “yes, lovey. a lot.” 

“more than you know.” jj nudged your shoulder lightly. “is that okay? that we both like you?”

“you know i’m queer, of course it's okay.” 

“but are you okay with that?” 

“why wouldn’t i be?” you looked between emily and jj. “have you gotten turned down before?”

“not in this aspect, no.” emily answered. “but yes, i have been turned down plenty of times.” 

“and i dated men in my past.” jj chuckled. “do with that information what you will.”

“yeah… men are stupid.” you chuckled. “okay so, hold on. i’d be dating both of you then?” 

“only if you want to.” 

“we’re not pressuring you at all. you can take some time to think about it-”

“- no no, it sounds really nice. dating both of you.” you smiled. “i just never thought…” 

“y/n, no matter what you think, you are loveable.” jj turned your face to look you in the eye. “you are loveable and you deserve the world.” 

“and we want to give you the world.” 

“we’d give you the universe, if we could.” 

“so what do you need from me?”

“your word.”

jj looked at you, a stern look overtaking her features. gods, did the room just get warmer?

“you tell us yes or no, and we go from there. we don’t want you to-”

“the answer is yes.” you stumbled over your words, jj’s look affecting you more than you thought. “i’d love to be your girlfriend.” 

both emily and jj let out a sigh of relief, bringing you in for a hug. it was real, it was happening. they didn’t read the situation wrong and you liked them back. you liked them back, and you said yes. 

“in that case, as our girlfriend, what do you want to do?” 

“can i kiss you?”

“of course you can.” 

you turned to jj. “and then can i kiss you?”

“please.” 

“then it's settled. i give you some smoochies, we binge ice cream and watch silly reality tv.” you smiled, nodding once. “the perfect night in.” 

emily and jj chuckled at your happiness, bringing you in as close as they could muster. you turned to emily first, placing a small peck on her lips to test the water before cupping her cheek, smiling into the kiss. you then turned to jj, who simply smiled widely at you before meeting you in the middle for the kiss. while it was an interesting scenario, you found yourself feeling comfortable. you were in the arms of two of the most important people in your life, and things were going to change. 

but they were changing for the better.

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 11 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica finally tells someone what happened with Brian, and maybe Jake would be just as understanding if she told him. With the fraternity fundraiser a few days away, her nerves start getting the best of her, but Jake continues to show how effortlessly he can make her happy.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing, frat boys 18+

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jessica felt so much better and yet emotionally drained at the same time. She spent almost thirty minutes telling her friend what happened with Brian, and she was pleasantly surprised to find that the other woman wasn't judgmental in the least. When Jessica was finally done talking, she sank back in her chair and fixed her glasses.

"So, yeah... that's why he's holding a grudge. That's why he won't give me tenure even though I deserve it."

She was met with a stony expression. "Just say the word, and Conley is going down. Have you... mentioned this to Jake?"

"No," Jessica replied immediately, her skin itching at the thought. "No."

"You should," she replied slowly. "I think he'd be surprisingly attentive, and I say that a bit begrudgingly."

Jessica cracked a smile as she grabbed her empty tupperware container and stood. "I'll think about it, Dr. Tits." She left the office to the sound of genuine laughter, but by the time she got back to her office, she felt exhausted. It wasn't fair that Brian had taken up so much space in her brain for so long. When Jake texted her and let her know he couldn't make it to her office hours, she felt almost relieved. 

The fraternity fundraiser was this Saturday, and she'd planned everything out as much as she could. Everything was checked off her list, and she was going to meet with the Kappa Pi students at their house on Wednesday evening. The only thing she hadn't done was log into the university portal and see how many tickets had sold for the event. 

Alumni weekend was a huge deal, and it was well attended and advertised, but she was still dreading checking. So she finished all of her classes for the afternoon and then ducked into the lounge to make herself a cup of coffee before her office hours started. 

She looked up as someone else entered, and it was Brian's teaching assistant. The one he was almost definitely sleeping with. "Hi," she said cautiously.

Jessica just nodded at her. She wanted to warn this poor girl, but it was obvious that Brian had her in a similar position to which Jessica had been in last school year. Plus, she already knew he'd make sure both women paid the price if she did. 

It was with tears in her eyes that Jessica returned to her office. That hopeful feeling from lunch was gone now, and she really wished Jake was able to stop by today after all. She plopped down at her desk and decided to just log in and see how poorly her ticket sales had gone. 

"Holy shit," she muttered, nearly spilling her coffee. Over one hundred tickets had sold, and the event was still days away. "Oh my god." Tears welled up in her eyes as she did the math quickly in her head. Her event would make over five thousand dollars for the school. Hopefully the fraternity house would be able to hold that capacity.

When her phone vibrated on her desk, she was startled from her thoughts.

Jake Seresin: I miss you too much. I can't stay long, but I'll be there in ten.

She didn't even bother to respond, but she was waiting by the open door for him when he rushed down the hallway. "Jake," she said with a soft laugh as he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. He was still wearing his flight suit, and he was a little out of breath. 

"I missed you," he whispered against her lips, and that made her a little bit out of breath as well. One big hand slid down to her butt as he said, "We had late training days sprung on us for today and tomorrow, and I volunteered to pick up dinner. I talked them into the Thai restaurant down the block from here." Then he froze as Jessica ran her fingers along his patches. "Were you crying? It looks like you were crying."

She shrugged and smiled. "Yeah, but it's not bad." She smiled more as Jake kissed along her cheeks. "A ton of tickets sold for my event on Saturday."

"How many?" he asked, looking at her with pride. 

"Over one hundred."

"Damn, you're good, Baby."

Jessica was looking up at his handsome features and his sexy smirk while he cupped her cheek and ran his thumb lazily along her bottom lip. She kissed his thumb before licking him, and when his eyes went wide, she laughed. "You can't stay?"

He shook his head. "I'll come back on Thursday. We can go to Chippy's after your office hours?"

"Yeah," she replied, tracing his HANGMAN patch. She could already hear Luca's skateboard on the tiled hallway floor, so she needed to be quick. "Do you want to sleep over on Friday night at my place? We could head to the event from there on Saturday? I could... show you the lingerie in my closet?"

Jake groaned softly, and goosebumps rippled down her neck as he asked, "Will you let me pick out something pretty for you to wear?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed as she pressed her lips to his neck. "Anything you want."

"Yes," he gasped, and then you heard Luca whistle.

"Get it, Dr. Reed," he said as he kicked his skateboard up into his hand. "Want me to come back later?"

"No," Jessica said as she disentangled herself from Jake's wandering hands while she blushed. "He was just leaving," she said. Then she looked up at Jake's green eyes and wide pupils. "You were just leaving."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he kissed her lips softly and said, "Call me later tonight. I'll see you on Thursday."

She watched him rush back toward the elevator before she closed her door behind her. "How many times do I have to remind you not to skate in the hallways?"

"Sorry, Dr. Reed."

"Get out your notebook."

-----------------------

When Jessica heard a knock on her office door on Wednesday around dinnertime, she called out, "It's open." Really, she was on her way to the Kappa Pi house, and she hadn't left herself much time to deviate from her agenda. Hopefully whoever this was would make it quick, but then she smiled when she realized who it was. "Advanced Calculus. What's up?"

"Just wondering if you were looking for someone to tag along? I speak fluent 'frat boy', and Bradley is training late with Jake."

Jessica was shocked into silence for a beat. "Yeah. I would love that. I'm actually a little nervous about meeting them."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You've got boobs and a pretty face. They'll be eating out of your hand, literally doing whatever you want them to."

"I'm not so sure," she replied with apprehension. But when they walked across campus to the old Victorian fraternity house with KAPPA PI on the front of it and knocked, Jessica was pleasantly surprised. 

A lanky guy with bad acne opened the door, and his eyes bugged out as he looked between the two women. "Dr. Reed?" he asked in awe. 

"Yes, that's me," Jessica replied, reaching out to shake his head before introducing him to the other professor. When he made no move to do anything except stare at them, she asked, "Can we come in?"

"Y-Yes. I'm James by the way."

Jessica led the way inside, and she was pleasantly surprised again. The front foyer opened up to a rather cavernous living room and dining room. There were beautiful hardwood floors and rich paint colors and a fireplace. The house was clean, and she was sure the kegs and tables would fit inside without issue once the furniture was moved out onto the back lawn. 

"Your house is so clean! Where are your fraternity brothers?" the other woman asked, and James blushed bright pink. 

A few minutes later, there was a lineup of a dozen or so guys staring at the two women. Their expressions ranged from surprise to bewilderment, but there were two on the end who looked like they just won the lottery. 

"Okay, hi. I'm Dr. Reed from the physics department, and I actually recognize a few of you. Calvin?" she asked, smiling at one of them. "From last semester?" He waved awkwardly back at her. "Right, well, I'm your advisor for the alumni event this weekend. I have a list of things you need to do before Saturday at six o'clock." She started passing out copies to each of them as she read off the list. "Move the furniture. Clean the kitchen. Fill the keg barrels with ice. And so on. Any questions?"

Five hands shot up, and Jessica stepped back in surprise. "Here it comes," Advanced Calculus muttered as Jessica pointed to the smirking guy at the end. 

He nodded at Jessica and asked, "If I switch my major to physics, will you be teaching all the classes?"

"Um, no," she answered, shaking her head in confusion. Then she pointed at the one next to him who had his hand raised.

"Do either of you need a date for Saturday night?" he asked eagerly. 

Jessica snorted and covered her mouth with her hand. She was about to answer when her friend said, "Both of our dates are in the military. And they're jacked. And they're mean."

A chorus of boos and groans filled the space, and Jessica had to try her best to answer the relevant questions without laughing. She showed the boys where to move the furniture, and she inspected the kitchen. Then she checked to see if there was enough room for the string quartet next to the stairs. She was determined to deliver on the elevated frat boy aesthetic since so many people seemed excited about it. 

"I think we're done for the day," Jessica told the guys with a smile as they fought over who got to escort the two of them back to the front door. "My email address is at the bottom of the list if you need to contact me for anything." A bunch of hands shot up in the air, and she added, "Anything pertaining to the event. If you try to ask me out again, I'm just going to delete the emails."

The guys lowered their hands and mumbled goodbye as the women stepped back out onto the silent porch. "Jessica, all those boys are going to sign up for your lectures next semester. I guarantee it."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "No, they won't. If anything they'd sign up for yours!"

But she was laughing as she walked down the steps to the sidewalk, and Jessica followed behind her in her high heels. "Just wait until Jake sees the twenty one year old kids with acne trying to flirt with you. He'll get jealous and pouty, I can practically see it now."

Jessica scoffed. "No, he won't! And didn't you meet Bradley when he was twenty one years old and in a frat?"

She froze on the sidewalk as that familiar blue Bronco parked on the next block up. "I sure did. And prepare yourself. Bradley is going to be insufferable on Saturday night."

-----------------------

Jake could only really focus on Jessica. After that brief couple of minutes in her office before Luca arrived on Tuesday, he was sweating it out until he could get home and jerk off. He came all over his hands in the shower as he thought about coating up her glasses instead. 

Now it was Thursday morning, and he leaned against the shower wall and thought about what kind of lingerie she might have in her closet. He hoped there was a little bit of everything. He could imagine her in something soft and white, almost ethereal. He could just as easily picture her in some leather with a riding crop. His groan filled the glass shower enclosure as he wrapped his hand around his cock again. 

He realized by the time he finally started getting dressed that he was going to be late if he didn't seriously get a move on. He was just buttoning his uniform shirt when his phone lit up on his bed. Jessica had sent him an image. His fingers abandoned the buttons so quickly to grasp for his phone. And holy shit, his hot girlfriend sent him a picture of a dark purple lace bra and thong laid out on what must have been her light blue bedding.

"Fuck," he grunted as he glared down at his cock. He really didn't have time to get hard again right now. But... he was curious, so he wrote back. 

You wearing that today, Jess?

She didn't respond until Jake had parked his new truck on base, but this time, she sent an up close photo of the tops of her breasts hugged by purple lace. He was practically drooling as he ran for the locker room with his bag.

Keep 'em coming, Baby.

He decided to keep his phone on him. It would be worth getting reprimanded. She sent him a handful of filthy looking photos as the day progressed, but it still wasn't enough. She must have taken a bunch of them in the morning before she left for campus, and Jake was so thankful. 

He had to adjust his uniform pants several times that evening when he walked from his truck to her office. On his way into the building, he passed a delighted looking Bradshaw and his wife on their way out. She was practically hanging off of him as they walked, and Jake heard her softly ask, "Okay fuckboy, you want me to get your Beta Gamma paddle out when we get home?"

Bradley froze and met Jake's eyes as his cheeks started turning pink. "Hangman," he grunted, and his wife spun to face Jake with a coy smile. 

"Hi, Jake," she sang as she reached for her husband's hand. "See you on Saturday night."

It was hard to still feel jealous of what they had when Jake knew what was waiting for him a few floors up. He took off toward the elevators, and then he walked as quickly as he physically could to Jessica's office. Two taps on her door, and she was pulling it open for him. He did the briefest glance around the room to make sure she was alone before he closed the door and backed her up against it. 

"Are you trying to send me to an early grave?" he whispered, his voice sounding a little harsh as he smiled softly at her. But his smile vanished immediately when he felt her hand run slowly across his thigh before she cupped his length through his khakis. 

"I just thought I'd keep you entertained while you were at work." She gave him a little squeeze, and Jake bucked against her hand. He glanced down to see that her soft sweater was the same purple color as her underwear, and she had on a little black skirt and black heels. He kissed her forehead and then her nose as he grabbed her ass with one hand and pushed her hair back behind her ear with the other. 

"You kept me hard while I was at work. That's what you did, Professor Reed." Jake wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and kissed along her jaw softly. She gasped as he used his other hand to slowly bunch her skirt up until he could feel the round of her bare ass cheek in his hand. 

"Jake," she whined, making it sound like three syllables instead of one as her hands slid up and around his neck. He kept his hand on her neck gentle and his kisses light as he grabbed her ass and slipped his fingers inside the back of her thong. "Jake!"

Her hands were grasping at his hair as he kissed her ear and rubbed his erection against her sweet body. "You're gorgeous. You drove me crazy all day. You know that? You did it on purpose?"

"Yes," she gasped as he sucked gently on her neck before soothing the spot with his tongue. 

"Mmm," he hummed quietly as he panted. "You gonna let me see that pretty purple set?"

Her voice was an obscene whine that left him grinding against her harder as she moaned, "Yes!"

And he couldn't help himself as he pressed the softest kisses along her jaw and ear and asked, "You gonna let me fuck you hard on your desk?"

Jessica's eyes were wide, and her glasses had gone crooked on her face, but he kissed her lips after she said, "Yes." Her hand reached out to press the lock on her door, and then Jake carried her to her desk and set her on the edge. Her eyes already looked blissed out as she spread her thighs wide and hooked both of her feet around his calves, pulling him closer. 

He tipped her chin up so she was looking at him, and then he took both of her soft thighs in his hands as she kept eye contact. "I'm crazy about you," he murmured as he pressed himself against her core. Then she pulled her sweater up and over her head before tossing it to the floor. Now her glasses were really crooked, and her hair was a mess as she reached for the fly of his pants. Jake was lost to the feel of her hand gripping his length as she pushed his pants down. Then she released him and leaned back on both of her palms with her lace covered tits thrust alluringly toward him.

"Fuck me," she commanded in her teaching voice. "Fuck me hard on my desk."

"Jesus Christ," he cursed, guiding his hands up her thighs, pushing the fabric up until that little skit was around her waist. When he tugged her damp thong to the side, he was treated to the sight of her wet pussy all ready to go. She ran her high heels up and down his thighs until he grabbed her behind the knees and thrust himself deep. 

Jessica's jaw dropped open as Jake held her legs in his hands and fucked her hard, his thrusts relentless as she started to whine. He gritted his teeth, the obscene slapping sounds of his body meeting hers filling the room as he watched her pussy take him. Her tits were bouncing beautifully each time he filled her, and she just kept getting louder. 

"Someone's gonna hear you," he warned, his voice a growl as he braced his feet a little wider apart on the floor. "Someone's gonna come knocking if you're not quieter, Jess."

She pressed her lips together and whimpered loudly in response as he continued to fuck her, rocking his hips into her body, his balls slapping her ass. Maybe he just didn't give a fuck if someone heard. Maybe Jake didn't care who knew that he was getting Jessica off on her desk right now. This was his girl, and she was a professional teaser. Even the way she was gripping him so tight with each stroke was too much. Her body was made for him, the way she responded to him like this. 

"Jake," she keened, extending the syllables once more as he ran his hand down her calf and lifted her leg so he could kiss her ankle. The shift in position had her squeezing around him while she eased herself onto her back. Jake watched her lace covered tits bounce as her hands grappled for something to grab onto. She held the edge of her desk as she came undone for him. A few more sharp thrusts, and Jake pushed himself deep, filling her up with his cum. And once again, when he withdrew himself, he got to watch the mess he made drip down her ass only to collect on her thong before dripping to the desk.

When Jake looked up along her body, Jessica had herself propped up on her elbows with a serene smile and crooked glasses. He leaned down over her and kissed her. "I got a little carried away," he whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair and squeezed her thigh. 

She looked impossibly sweet as he fixed her glasses, and she said, "I plan on getting carried away with you tomorrow night when you sleepover." 

He devoured her mouth, but the kisses turned lazy and unhurried. Eventually Jake helped her sit up again on the edge of her desk, and he took in the sight of her rucked up skirt, purple bra and his cum between her thighs. "Let's get you cleaned up, and I'll take you to Chippy's."

"Sex on my desk and Chippy's? Today just keeps getting better," she said with a laugh as Jake grabbed some tissues from her shelf and wiped up her desk and picked up her sweater. Once she was in his arms, he pulled her shirt over her head and helped her wiggle her skirt back down. 

When he zipped up his pants, he told her, "Why don't you grab a journal or two to take with us? We can read it together over some Sam Adams and peanuts."

Jessica's eyes lit up, and she actually clapped her hands. It was the cutest fucking thing he had ever seen in his life, and he watched as she clicked across her floor on her heels to the shelf. "I love that," she murmured. "Great idea, Jake."

He loved it, too. He loved everything about her. She was so smart and beautiful, but she was funny, too. She wasn't clingy, and she had a fascinating career. She didn't need him around, but she seemed to light up when he was, and that's what left Jake a little breathless as she turned and looked at him with two journals in her hand. "You ready?"

Jake kissed the slight bruise he left on her neck on the ride down the elevator. When the doors opened, Brian Conley was there arguing with a young woman, and he felt Jessica tense up in his arms. "It's okay," Jake murmured against her hair. Even though her posture remained a little rigid, she let him take her by the hand and walk out into the lobby, and Jake absorbed the glare that Brian shot their way so Jessica didn't have to. 

He'd had just about enough of that asshole, and the next time he witnessed Brian being a dick or if he heard his girlfriend complain about him again, Jake was probably going to lose it. But as soon as they were inside the dive bar, Jake noticed that her shoulders seemed less tense, and she smiled as soon as Chippy waved to her. 

"Hey, Reedy."

"Hi, Chippy."

He started pouring two pints as he shot Jake the look of warning that he'd become accustomed to; it was almost a part of the experience now. But the bar was absolutely packed tonight, and Jessica held his hand a little tighter as she stepped around peanut shells on the sticky floor. There was only one high top table free with only one stool at it. 

Jake kissed Jessica's cheek and nudged her in that direction. "Grab the table while I get the beer and peanuts?" She took off in that direction, and Jake headed for the bar. 

"So. You're here to stay then?" a disgruntled Chippy asked as he shoved a bowl of peanuts next to the pint glasses. 

Jake tried to reel in his surprised laugh. "Yes, sir. I'm not going anywhere."

Chippy grunted as he took the twenty dollar bill from Jake and made change for him. He slid the bills across the bar but kept his hand on them. "If I so much as see you with another woman or see tears in that girl's eyes," he said, nodding toward Jessica, "you'll never see the inside of this bar again."

Jake waited for him to pick up his hand, and then he took all of the bills except for a few singles. "Understood." Then he could tell he'd been dismissed when Chippy started waiting on the group next to him, so he took everything back to the table where Jessica was perched on the stool. 

"Literally all of the seats are being used," she told him, but Jake set everything down and then pulled her into his arms.

"Just means I get to hold you, then." He sat and then helped her onto his lap, and she settled on his thigh while he kissed her cheek and the side of her neck. "This is perfect."

Her cheeks were a little flushed, and Jake could smell himself on her as he wrapped his arm around her, letting his hand settle on her hip. This gorgeous woman was wearing panties soaked with his cum and calmly opening one of the physics journals to share an article with him. "Oh, you'll like this one," she told him, smiling over her shoulder before pointing out the title on the page. She thought he was smart, and she seemed to like having him around outside of bedroom activities, too.

"I'm sure I will," he replied, kissing her shoulder as he listened to her tell him about jet propulsion in a newly designed aircraft.

------------------------

Intelligent, self aware Jake is ruining me a little bit. Brian is a dank ass little bitch. Please send asks if you'd like to see a certain type of lingerie in her closet. Frat fundraiser is up next. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 12

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

@furiouspiespytaco

@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-joyride

@theharddeck

@withakindheartx

@roosterscockpit

@whatislovevavy

@hangmanbrainrot

@neferpatra

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@averyhotchner

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@mygyn

@hoyaharper

@tallyovie

@gennyanydots

@callsign-magnolia

@whisperofsong

@seriouslyseresin

@double-j

@bradshawsbitch

@sugarcoated-lame

@katiebby04

@anotherr-fine-mess

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

@bringnattolife

@xoxabs88xox

@djs8891

@hufflepufftruffle

@cottagecori

[watchandread02]

For the "Holidays with the Winchesters: A very Destiel Advent Calendar" by @archervale and @wormstacheangel

Day Fourteen: Fruitcake

Ao3

The bell above the door jingles and Dean looks up from where he had been going over inventory. Only to be met with the hottest man he has ever seen. The guy’s got the bluest eyes to ever blue and dark tousled hair that looks like he just had the wildest sex ever.

While Dean was thinking very inappropriate thoughts, the guy had moved over to where he was standing. The guy clearing his throat brings Dean back to the present.

“Hello…” the guy takes a moment to look down at Dean’s nametag, “... Dean. I would like to order around ten fruitcakes, if you make them?”

“Um, I guess that would be possible? Depends on when you are going to need them for? Are you having a party or you just a fan of fruitcake?” Dean asks. Finally gathering enough brain capacity and getting down to business.

“It’s actually for my brother. He’s a big fan of it, he’s got a really big sweet tooth. I try to get him some every Christmas.” The guy explains.

Dean gets out an order sheet and starts to put down all the information that he already has.

“You said you wanted ten, right?” When the guy doesn’t answer, Dean looks up from where he is bent over the desk, pen caught between his lips.

The guy startles a bit. “Oh, uh, sorry. Yes, ten would be perfect.”

“And when will you be needing them by?”

The guy contemplates that for a second before answering, “probably the twenty second? Gabe will get here on the twenty first. I could give it to him a bit early and hopefully he won’t eat all of it on the first day and still have some left over for the actual holidays.”

Dean writes down the date. Okay he’ll have eight days to actually prepare for making the fruitcakes, that works perfectly fine for him.

“Finally, I just need a name and number,” Dean says.

“You can put it down for Castiel Novak.”

Dean writes the name down and then looks up again, only to find the guy halfway across the room.

“What about your number?!” Dean shouts after Castiel.

Cas just turns around and points at the counter. Dean glances down at the counter, to find a napkin with a number scribbled on it.

“Call me and we’ll work out a day that works for the both of us.” Cas says and winks at Dean, before turning back around and walking out the door.

Dammit Castiel is a smooth motherfucker. Or, oh, did he think Dean had asked him out? By asking for his number? Well at least he seemed to reciprocate Dean’s feelings. He’ll totally have to call Cas tonight and set up a date.

For now Dean just writes down the number on the order sheet. And if for the rest of the day, Dean is moving around with a pep in his step and whistling joyfully. Then that’s nothing Sammy has to know about, who keeps asking him about it incessantly.

Dean goes home later that night and calls Cas, where they immediately set up a date for that weekend. They end up talking to each other on the phone into the early hours of the morning. Dean is tired at the start of his shift the next day, but there is nothing that could wipe the grin off his face. And to think that all of this happened because of some fruitcake.

[la-principessa-nuova]

one of the hard things is like so many different stressful things are all happening at once and have been for months, and they’re like the “serious” kind of stressful things that neurotypical people hear and are like “oh yeah that’s a lot to go through at once”, but then on top of that I’m still just as stressed about things like it being 11 AM and I’m working and I have an appointment 15 minutes away around 2pm, that I am totally prepared for, and yet it’s circling around my brain like I have to be there in 10 minutes and I’m running late. And then the worry about the social situation of it, and the worries of the social situations of work in general.

somewhat long and rambly general life venting after the fold:

And that worry magnified by being recently out at work and finally getting to the point of always doing errands like this in girlmode, and then the distractions that were pulling me away from the worry for a bit before are now all part of the worry because now that I’m fully out, while the not hiding is a huge relief, it does mean that all the things I was siloing are all colliding in big ways. And at the same time, the more I start feeling like me and like a person, the more I ache for the parts of life I haven’t been doing, so the comfort zone I wish I could slide back into while I get through some of this stuff is just gone.

And it starts to feel like I’m being crushed by it all, and that’s tough. But at least the good parts finally feel right. I’m finally thinking about what I want rather than just how to please others. But it’s still a constant battle to do that, and thinking about what I want leads to yearning. Not just yearning yearning, but like generally yearning for the life I don’t have, the local friends I don’t have, the activities I don’t do, the places I haven’t been. But doing any of those is a lot of work and requires a lot of capacity for executive function that I don’t have available.

And I don’t feel totally hopeless, because I know what it takes to get some of these things. It just requires big first steps and even thinking about them to make them concrete is scary. And like, I know what will happen is the thing where I finally feel not burnt out and then I take on one more new thing, and then I feel crushed by it.

ahhhhhh

It really does feel like I need at least week off of work and name change stuff and appointments and everything to relax, at least a week off work to focus on getting some things done and over with to just cross them off the list, and at least a week off to figure out what I need to do next. But like, that’s not how things work. Because even though I could justify 2 weeks off with everything going on, I’m not sure I could even relax until all of this is over, and work has been my escape from it. I’ve actually been more able to do things on work days than weekends, even after working all day, because as soon as my mind is idle and I don’t have a 100% clear plan and the motivation to follow through, I start to spiral and can’t focus.

even just being in meetings at work where i don’t talk for a while gets me in my head like this. Hence why I’m still typing this so long after I started, because I started it during a meeting and I just don’t want to face the pressure of getting things done before my appointment this afternoon.

Ok, like, trying to be practical and optimistic, I do need more sleep. I think a lot of the panic is because I’m feeling hopeless that it will ever get better, and then when it’s time for bed, I tend to start to finally get productive and then stay up until 2-3 AM (if I’m lucky and it’s not 4-5) working on stuff. But I get up at 8(ish) and that’s just not enough sleep at all. Over the last week, I slept an average of 4h 14m per night. And I don’t feel good. Like clearly that is the main issue with my brain right now as stressful as everything else is, and the reason the world feels like it’s closing in often is definitely because I want to fall asleep. It’s just so hard with this brain state to put in the executive function to be better.

ok, i’m gonna do a couple things right now to try to fix the sleep issues. This actually really helped to vent this and come across the sleep thing bc thinking about how that sounds to somebody other than myself makes me appreciate how much I need drastic action to fix my sleep. Ok bye now.

[brainiswriting]

brain's november writing log #1

i would be lying if i said that today hadn't caused me insurmountable stress. something about jumping from 'not writing a single screenplay for over a year' to 'suddenly having to translate an outline into final draft' really messed me up.

like, my heart is literally fucking up my ribs and my nerves as I'm typing this log. it's so wild. i haven't felt this way about writing in over a year. right about the same time i stopped having the mental capacity to put myself through the arduous process of building a lively world from the ground up.

at one point i even revisited my old work, most of which were over a year old, thinking that my brain would calm itself down once it's reminded of how it has been through this whole process multiple times prior.

"you've survived each instance," i remember telling myself as i pulled up a discarded draft of the same WIP.

but my brain was just not having it.

each carefree page was met with contradictory thoughts. on one hand, I'm relieved at how i've improved when it comes to story structure, character study, and dialogue pacing; on the other, I'm mortified at how prolific i once was.

19-year-old brain was really out here writing complete drafts overnight (sometimes it would be multiple drafts for multiple scripts, too!) with bravado and confidence that has long dissipated. it's kind of insane to look back on. what a time in my life it was. and i was doing this for three years straight, whilst juggling film set responsibilities all weekend (also insane, iykyk).

still, i persisted anyway and i ended up writing two scenes. double what i had hoped to write. it's not stellar, or even mediocre for that matter. but it was something. honestly, i don't know what i had anticipated, coming back to screenwriting after a whole year of inactivity... i just know I'm not giving up.

it's so strange to be complaining all post long just to randomly say that I'm not giving up at the end. truthfully, i don't even know how i ended up with this unwavering determination to do more tomorrow. i just know i'd rather live in this frustrated limbo of constantly fighting to become a better writer than to not write at all.

i hope this jumbled word vomit made sense. not only to other people reading, but also to my future self.

brain, you did good. now let's wake up tomorrow and do another round of good work. one step at a time.

[novel-nook-blog]

Camp nano – week 3 🪽

Monday 7/15

Today's weather is killing me! It's so hot I think my brain is boiling. Uf! BUT all in all, it was a very productive day. I had a job meeting and I've also done some work around my potential clients (this is a job offer I took just for funsies) – it's a finance job and it's so off my uni major that it makes me laugh. But when I got home I started writing right after a stand-up comedy with Matt Rife that is on netflix (why haven't I found out about this sooner?!). But tbh it was so hard to get words out of myself, I'm currently stuck at the beginning of chapter 3, the first draft version sucks (yeah, it's THAT horrible) so I'm trying to figure out a new way of writing it and it's difficult. I don't like writing beginnings, it's all about the backstory but not so much because you don't want to throw everything at once on your reader. Meh. But I have to get through it so I can get to the good parts.

Wordcount: 321

Tuesday 7/16:

What a day! I woke up super early and got right into writing. That stopped at around 300 words in... when I was inspired to cook lunch that took so long to do, as always when I'm cooking 😂. And after lunch I visited my grandparents so I got back to writing an hour ago (11 pm). Fun fact, I was carrying a book with me all day long everywhere I went and haven't read a single page 🥲.

Wordcount: 1042

Wednesday 7/17:

It's almost 11 pm and I need to write some wordsssss. Ngl I was avoiding writing today a bit. I only wrote 180 words so far and I'm so tired, but we'll see if I get it done.

It's 5 minutes before midnight and I'm done for today. I finally finished chapter 3, that makes me glad and anxious at the same time because the part I was avoiding for so long is slowly approaching. But after that dreadful part that's ahead of me, the good ones will slowly come in.

Wordcount: 1077

Thursday 7/18:

I don't think I'm going to write today. It's almost 9 pm and I'm sooo tired. I had a doctor's appointment today in a city that's kind of far away from where I live. And now, as I finally got to my bed, I just want to read for a bit, so I think I'm going to do that.

Wordcount: 0

Friday 7/19:

It's baad. It's 11 pm and an hour ago I finally got back home. Today I had a pottery date with my best friend and we spent most of the day together. I had a wonderful time! But I'm so tired to write anything so I think I'm gonna head to bed. I'm not sure how much I'm going to write on the weekend, because my mom wants to go to an aquapark. But I'll keep you updated.

Wordcount: 0

Saturday 7/20:

It's almost 1 am on a Sunday and I'm finished for today. I had a great day with a lot of swimming and sunbathing and reading. But even though I'm exhausted, I needed to write some words... I don't have as many as I need but my brain is fried and I changed a whole dialogue part I need to write now and I don't have the capacity in me to do so in this unholy hour. I need my sleep.

Wordcount: 731

Sunday 7/21:

This is THE day!! I enjoyed the sunny weather outside by the swimming pool with a good book and my laptop and I wrote 2k words! I feel like I haven't done that in a long time (and before summer break I wrote around 3k daily).

Wordcount: 2030

[jimmycartersufo]

this is me having the Tuesday foh museum employee version of Sunday scaries. I love using tumblr as a sort of diary right now especially when writing my hand causes pain!

the last two weeks of work have been especially rough and this week I have some tough stuff to get through that I'm nervous about but it'll be OK. I just struggled with the unknown. time always moves too quickly this time of year and I'm desperate to hold on to my days off because I am so burnt out. the problem is when you're in between those biweekly checks and you're broke as hell but also it's been pouring down rain. I can't help but feel bad and guilty when I do nothing. I didn't do just nothing, I took care of my mom today and I've rested a lot but it still feels weird and bad.

I'm almost back to being in the green for my sick time. I used up all my sick time and my boss had payroll give me negative sick time which was a life saver. I miss my boss so much. everything has gone to shit without her. but she deserves so much better. clearly. anyway, in a couple weeks I'll start to see actual sick time build up again. and on July 1 I'll get more pto 🤡 but thankfully at least Juneteenth falls on a Wednesday so we will have a three day weekend. The museum won't pay it's workers more or respect their security dept (which is historically and systematically Black) but they will do land acknowledgements if they happen to put up a work by a Native person (aka no permanent land acknowledgement lol) and they'll give us Juneteenth off with pay. oh and back of house gets more pto than foh but I'm not here to list alllllll of my complaints rn. but we as a team are counting down the days so we can have a three day weekend. like yeah holiday pay on a day we already have off (every gov holiday that falls on a Monday) but would rather have a floating holiday for more pto. abyway I should hopefully have some sick time built up in a couple months to take a day off for rest.

falling behind on chores again. desp need to spring clean dust because ofc I have to be a maximalist autistic. still need to wash my beach combing finds from a few weeks ago. still need to hang stuff up. the most I can do is pick up a little. do a load of laundry but share the labor with my husband because we don't have the capacity for either or alone. do dishes maybe. make breakfast, lunch, and John makes dinner. take care of mom which is hard sometimes but more than anythjng it has to be done and I can trick my brain into not being an asshole about it. make the bed but in a more "lazy" way. take care of myself and stick to my barely there routine. medicine with alarms, brush teeth, set out the clothes I want to wear at least a day ahead but two days if possible. shower when it's been too long. lotion on my face and my arms and my legs if I can tolerate it. drink water. try and keep my salt levels up. stretches even if it's in bed. my daily puzzles. learn something new (read an article and or a wiki page).

at least tomorrow we get paid. I have to save money for when we go to an Orioles game soon. need to figure out when and how and where we are viewing the eclipse. grocery shopping. taking care of mom if dad is working late/in traffic. look over what bills are do this check. thankfully we get paid I think three times this month? JK it's may we get three paychecks but thankfully I get paid the week of my mom's birthday!!!!!!

I work on late shift this month. bad because no extra money but good because I am so fucking exhausted. I'm basically a sorta manager without all the manager roles and Def not the pay. but that's basically what I am now. thinking about it makes me sick. I goofed up somewhere to end up here with this responsibility. but also it was happenstance. I understand that. and that I have been masking so well for so long.

it's autism awareness day. I am autistic. I am finally feeling right with that. it's been over a year now, and I've spent that time reflecting on my life and the way I am. I was lucky that my sister has been in programs and I basically knew a guy that knew a guy that knew a guy. but I don't have like, a therapist or anthring to guide me through the realities of hey you're autistic and this is why you think and do xyz. I wish I listened to autistic friends years ago that said hey you're autistic and I was like no not me, I don't do this thing but the thing is a lot of those things I didn't think I did I literally did not understand the questioning which is funny. I can't really think of a good example but like you read a question like do you struggle to make eye contact and irs like yes but only in certain circumstances like when I don't know someone but you don't have the way to answer with nuances so you just say no. not the best example but it's like that. what's so interesting about being diagnosed late is you start to kind a breakdown the safety nets of masking and then it seems like you're faking because you're doing all this stuff not in private anymore, like you're regressing or something and it's like no I was just playing a role.

today for dinner I had chicken nuggets and heinz pickle ketchup and we watched a video about being in wdw on 9/11 and I was like oh

rigut now I'm trying to follow my night routine but I'm so anxious to sleep. I did sleep in really late today after sleeping poorly and then getting up to take care of mom in the morning. I woke up just before noon after going back to bed about nine???? so I'm not very tired. I'm going to go figure out my lunch for tomorrow so I don't worry about it in the am and then I'm going to check the laundry and if it's dry enough get my favorite pair of undies (tomboyx boy shorts) and my favorite pants (green!!) and find a top and then make the bed comfy and then I'm gonna use my new neck massager even though I've probably used it too much today and I hope to find a nice wiki article to read :)))))))

[pinkyjulien]

I'm glad Nexus took action as soon as they could! 🙏 (They do not moderate/work on the website during the weekend)

After the deletion of the "Alternate T-Bug" mod, EKT decided to remove all of his catalogue (with the exception of the Unique Eyes update) and made the following statement:

"Due to the apparent lack of brain activity within the Nexus moderating team and their clear inability for logical thinking in any capacity, I have chosen to remove all my mods except the unique eyes mod because people rely on it. I don't want to submit and share my art on a website that not only solicits but encoruages and works alongisde bullies and ideologues, clearly the moderation team is not fit for the task and I don't want to share the same space as them. The moderation team either does not do their job properly or are deeply biased, either way there is an issue too severe for me to be okay with it."

He since made another comment:

"I am going to bring my mods back up, the reason for this is because the vile people that brigaded, harassed and mass reported me actually are dumb enough to think that it resulted in all my mods getting taken down, there is no world where i am letting those low lives have that sense of satisfaction. Bunch of insane bigoted ideologues projecting their disgusting twisted world views onto everything they see."

Reminder that EKT made, published and defended a white T-bug mod, which goes against Nexus' File Submission guidelines, shielding himself behind his "artistic vision" - you can check the original' post and the multiple reblogs/replies for more context

EKT's mods were used by a lot of people, and his choice of words in his public statement is obviously on purpose; many people are being manipulated into thinking he's the victim of an harassement campaign

Don't hesitate to let people know what he did, with proof

In the meantime, over the public -KS- Modding Community Server

EKT is calling for an actual harassment campaing against SweetMage, trying to get them to be banned from Nexus and Tumblr

Thanks to the people who provided the screenshots They gave me permission to share them here

The server owner has been made aware of the situation

As a final note I'll only repeat myself: - Warn your friends, your chooms and the general public, make them aware of the situation, don't let them get manipulated into defending a racist/colorist mod - Take note of who's actively participating in this ordeal, took preview pictures, endorsed the initial mod, left comments and who are now supporting EKT

Hey, can y'all report this mod that whitewashes T-Bug?

This mod not only lightens her skin but makes her nose and lips smaller as well as other changes to her face. On top of this the modder has been deleting every comment calling this out and has now taken to calling commenters "internalized racists" for having a problem with it.

Not in the fandom and don't know who T-bug is? This is what she looks like in the game (top) vs in the mod (bottom):

I do not care to hear any "people can do what they want in their own game!" nonsense. Dont know why you'd wanna erase dark skinned black women in your own game but you do you, but this was posted publicly on the internet so Imma say something about it. Fandoms in general are often unwelcoming to black folks and creating, supporting, and condoning whitewashing only adds to that fact!

[zukkababey]

modern college zukka falling in love with each other in their respective zoom squares during quarantine class and they private chat each other during class but they’re real stupid and don’t know that the host can see private messages so then they get in trouble for being cute and not paying attention

anon, why are you in my and @engagedzukka’s brain... we literally had a whole conversation about this au like, 2 days before i got this ask.

anyway, here’s what we came up with:

sokka’s the guy on zoom who has a super messy room and absolutely doesn’t care. he asks questions to professor piandao and is super engaged with the lecture. he has a bi pride flag on the wall behind him.

zuko’s the one who always has his camera on, always stays on mute, and has like 3 different cats walking across his screen at all times. he has dao swords on the wall behind him.

the swords are what initially peak sokka’s interest. (not that zuko is so very clearly smoking hot, pffffft, no, that’s definitely not the reason.)

sokka pins zuko to the screen instead of the professor. he learns better if he’s looking at something he’s interested in, right?

at some point, sokka physically cannot hold himself back from dming zuko. he types:

i see you wield dual blades.

zuko makes no sign that he’s read the message, or that he’s even gotten it. he goes on being stupidly attractive and perfectly poised. it isn’t until the end of the lecture when zuko sends back:

?

no, i’m gay.

sokka has to turn off his camera before his face does something truly embarrassing, but then the lecture is ending and sokka never had time to respond.

so, sokka keeps on messaging zuko. sometimes it’s stuff about the lecture, like a long tangent on astronomy and star systems because sokka’s really into the class subject. other times he sends a bajillion emojis in response to zuko’s cats. every so often, he’ll try to send a joke that will make zuko smile or laugh on the other side of the zoom call. zuko never smiles or laughs, much to sokka’s disappointment. 

but, zuko always responds. the only problem is that he responds at the very end of lectures, when sokka doesn’t have time to message him back.

one day, one of zuko’s cats—which sokka has learned is named druk—climbs onto zuko’s chest and nuzzles into his neck. zuko must be used to druk using him as a personal cat bed, because zuko barely even bats an eye, hugging druk closer and pressing his cheek to the top of his head.

sokka, who is feeling particularly bold on this fine friday morning, messages him:

where’s my hug? 🥺

zuko, as always, doesn’t give any acknowledgement that he’s read sokka’s message. but then, at the very end of the lecture, sokka gets a response: 

ask me on a date and maybe you’ll find out. 

sokka doesn’t have the brain capacity to comprehend that, so he’s almost thankful that the lecture ends less than twenty seconds later. 

almost. 

sokka spends the whole weekend consulting with literally everyone he knows on how to ask zuko out. what should they do? how should he ask?

in the end, he decides on stargazing. it’s supposed to be a clear night on monday, it’s relevant to the course, and he could talk about astronomy for literal hours. the date should go off without a hitch. 

sokka logs into zoom on monday with an air of determination. he’s fairly confident he’s not about to get turned down—zuko gave him permission to ask him out, after all. 

he knows that zuko’s going to message him at the end of class, so sokka also waits until near the end of lecture. after what feels like eons of waiting, he sends the message he’s had typed out since the start of class:

it’s supposed to be a clear night tonight. want to go stargazing with me? i can tell you about constellations i bet piandao has never even heard of.

zuko responds:

so your idea of a first date is basically giving me more homework?

sokka’s immediate thought is oh shit. 

but then there’s a message coming through with an address, then another right after it:

pick me up at 8. 

professor piandao, who’s been keeping up with the Sokka and Zuko Show since the beginning of the semester, ends the zoom lecture with a sigh of relief. finally, finally, those two got their shit together. maybe now they’ll pay attention more in class. 

spoiler alert: they don’t. if anything, they get more distracted. between one lecture and the next, sokka’s usual background changes completely. and—was that just zuko’s cat that walked across sokka’s screen? piandao doesn’t think that it’s a coincidence that he can see sokka talking to someone off screen, and that zuko, who’s never once cracked a smile before, is laughing. piandao sighs wearily. thank goodness the semester is almost over.

[cerinefalls]

‎

𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝐵𝑒𝒹

An Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Summary: On the way back to UA after a weekend of field training, the bus breaks down. Luckily for classes 1A and 1B, Vlad was able to find you rooms! Unluckily for everyone, it was not a big hotel. Time to share, and your roommate was... you guessed it; Izuku Midoriya! Good thing, too, because you're not feeling too good.

Other Parts: Shoto Todoroki

Content: SFW, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Suggestive Themes

｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ

You wandered down the halls near aimlessly as you searched for your room. It shouldn't have been so hard to find a room in a hotel, but unfortunately for you, this place had no order. Room 412 should've been right between 410 and 414, but in its place was room 416. Was your room even located on the fourth floor? You were unsure at this point.

"Four twelve... four twelve... four twelve... It should be here, but these aren't in numerical order. Maybe if I retrace my steps, I'll see that I missed something! No, these aren't in order either. Are villains trying to disorient us? Maybe I'm thinking too hard... " You overheard a familiar voice muttering down the hall. It was nearing you, but you couldn't point out exactly who it was.

As you continued down the dimly lit hallway, the voice gradually got louder. Soon, it sounded like it was right in front of you. It was right in front of you! You bumped into the source of the sound and nearly fell backward. That was an oddly soft wall you'd run into.

"I am so sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you, I swear! Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I-" Now you knew who it was. Who else went on and on that way? It had to be Deku.

"No- I'm fine, Midoriya." You brushed off whatever initial shock you'd felt and stood up straight again. "You said 412?" The room. That was your room, and if he'd seen it, you needed to know where.

"What? Oh, the woman at the desk told me to look for room 412, but I can't find it anywhere." Izuku replied to you without hesitation. His brain was running at full capacity at all times, after all.

"She did? That's my room too. Can we look together?" You'd been grouped with Midoriya? That was unexpected. You'd expected someone like him to end up with Bakugo or Todoroki, but it looked like he was stuck with you. You didn't know him too well, but he probably didn't mind.

"Yeah! This must be a test." He nodded, accepting your offer. Was he always thinking about hero work? That looked like what the hero course did to them all.

The two of you spent minute after minute hauling luggage around the fourth floor. After a while, Izuku offered to take your bags for you. You declined- but were starting to wish you hadn't. Double-checking, triple-checking- nothing provided results, and it was beginning to tire you.

"Maybe it's on another floor?" You pitched your idea to the now pacing and muttering mess of a boy. He'd hardly heard you through his thick thought bubble.

"Of course! If all of these are out of order, there's no telling how disorienting the next floors are. It must be somewhere else!" Had he seriously not considered that before? You hesitated to tell him because you thought he'd already checked the other floors. Then again, this wouldn't be the first time someone had to suggest something obvious to him.

Izuku led you to the elevator and pressed the button to move down a floor. One floor at a time, that's how you'd do it. The wait was long, and Midoriya appeared lost in thought the entire time. Soon, the quiet elevator ride lowered you to the third floor.

"Alright, let's check around here for the-"

"I found it!" Midoriya interrupted you with his outburst from slightly down the hall. Sure enough, on the 3rd floor, 412 was sat between 310 and 314. It made you wonder what happened to room 312.

Never mind any of your questions or concerns, it was time to sit! Finally, after all that time training, you got to sit on a sturdy piece of furniture. The odd circumstances didn't even cross your mind as you rushed past Izuku and onto the red couch that sat against the wall in the front of your hotel room.

"You're smart," Midoriya smiled wide as he shut the door behind you. After the click of the lock settled your arrangement, he too sat on the couch at the separate end. "So it... looks like we're going to be spending the night here. I'm glad Class B's teacher was able to find us rooms." He nodded to himself.

"Me too." You nodded, stretching out. As you finished your relieving movement and turned to Izuku, you were met with an intense stare. He stopped when he noticed you looking, though. "What?" You questioned.

"Oh- nothing! It's just... your side. It's scratched," He mentioned. Right! that cut you'd gotten during practice. You'd forgotten all about it when the bus broke down. It wasn't bleeding anymore, and the pain had gone away. "Is it bad?" Izuku sounded concerned.

"No! Just a silly surface wound. I'm sure it'll be fine once we get to recovery girl." You responded fine, but Izuku did not seem to agree with you. He looked worried, face sporting a frown.

"You should really make sure it gets cleaned and patched up." He stood up and walked towards the bathroom, opening the door and disappearing inside. For a while. you wondered why. What was he doing in there? All that rustling and banging had to mean something.

"They didn't really have bandages, so I-" Eventually, your questions were answered. Izuku exited the bathroom with a first-aid kit and... other things.

"Bandages? I'm not bleeding." You tilted your head a few times, trying to see what he'd come up with. Deku was surely one to know how to wrap wounds, so it couldn't have been anything outrageous.

"You were! It's important to keep it sealed, even if you aren't bleeding anymore." The reason this green-haired boy was panicking was unannounced to you, but in midst of his worry, he made a good point. Who knew what lurked in this hotel? An infection was the last thing you needed.

"Well... alright, Midoriya. How do you plan on helping this, though?" You asked, agreeing to let him help you. Izuku smiled wryly before pulling from behind him a... roll of toilet paper?

"The toiletries here aren't soft and crumbly. They're sort of like... paper. This can make a good temporary bandage when used correctly." His smile was unsure- almost as if he wanted you to fact-check him. You nodded to say you trusted him, but as for the quality of his information? Well, nobody knows.

"Okay... and how do you expect to get that to stick?" You could ask Sero- but, other than that, all options looked to be off the table.

"The first aid kit doesn't have gauze, but it does have some tape left! Skin-safe, of course!" His smile looked more sure now. It faded as he began to put together his makeshift bandaging. He looked focused as he wiped your skin clean with alcohol pads and waved them dry.

He seemed focussed- not on the process- but on keeping you comfortable. Izuku knew he had the ability to hurt you if he wasn't careful, because even though you'd felt fine before, you flinched each time he pressed around the cuts. They were not completely healed, after all.

"Normally, I'd tell you to go take a shower..." He spoke under his breath, tape holder securely between his teeth as he tore pieces to use. "But, because of how these are... I know it'll hurt if you do." Midoriya gently secured a large, doubled-over section of toilet paper to your side. He was right to say the texture was that of paper because you would surely hate to wipe with what he'd placed on you.

"But, shouldn't I shower anyway? We were training, and..." You tried to finish your sentence, but you couldn't quite bring yourself to when you noticed Izuku lost in thought. He was staring at your waist, your top moved with one of his hands as the other carefully ran across the 'bandaging' he'd just applied.

"Might need another layer..." He mumbled, not paying all too much attention to what you said- until you called him, that is.

"Izuku?" You leaned as close to eye level with him as you could and it startled him.

"Oh- sorry!" Whether it was his name or the sharp eye contact that drew his attention was unknown. What you did know was that he'd quickly backed away from you, unhanding your clothes and swiping your side a bit as he stumbled backward on the couch. You tried not to let him know it'd hurt, but you couldn't help the instinctual jolt away from him that followed. "Did I- oh no, I'm really sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! I was just scared I was making you uncomfortable and then you looked at me and you said my name and I got scared and..." He... was... mumbling to himself again.

"Midoriya, it's fine. I was just-" You attempted to calm him down, but he was too far gone. It appeared his stunt of focus was interrupted by his feeling of embarrassment. Maybe you should try his first name again? "...Izuku?" It worked! His muttering paused and he looked up at you. His expression was unreadable for a moment.

"You said it again..." He sat up and paused, clearly trying to deduce something. Was that seriously all it took to calm him down?

"Said... what?" You questioned, holding a hand to the throbbing pain on your midsection. He had a harder hit than you thought he would- especially for an accident. He must've really sought to keep a light hand before.

"My... name. I'm sorry if that sounds odd! It's just..." He looked away from you, not without glancing at the hand you held to your side. "Ever since Kacchan and I got to UA... Well, I guess I didn't realize people knew my name." That was true. Bakugo had given Izuku that nickname, and it spread like a rash. Midoriya was strong to have flipped it to be his hero name. Ever since then, no one had called him by anything but Deku or Midoriya.

"I hope I'm not crossing any lines by using it- it just seemed to capture your attention." Your response was direct and apologetic.

"It's not that," Midoriya shook his head. "I have no problem with it! It's just... new." He mustered another smile and met your eyes again. You quickly moved your hand but you knew he'd seen it. Your intention wasn't to make him feel bad! It just hurt, was all.

"Well, Izuku... how about we go to sleep? It's getting late," You tested him. His smile formed more properly this time!

"Yes, but I really should add another layer or two to that. I wouldn't want it to tear in your sleep." He was calm enough to say that without flustering himself. Perhaps the same focus he had earlier had returned? No, that wasn't it.

The look in his eyes as he carefully followed the same process he had before matched the look there was during training today. He wasn't just focused on helping you- he was in a hero's mindset. It would've been endearing had you not known about his crippling hero complex.

Nevermind that.

Once Izuku had finished putting a more cushiony layer over your midriff, he backed away to view what he'd done. He seemed proud of himself. Rightfully so! Because he'd truly done his best in this endeavor.

"This doesn't hurt, does it?" He moved the hand he'd used to hold up your top down to your waist, his second hand doing the same on the opposite side. Midoriya applied a gentle amount of pressure with both hands, and shockingly, it didn't hurt at all!

"Wow... it... doesn't-" You shook your head and looked down at his hands. It was a bit interesting- looking at him. He still resembled an entirely different state of mind as he sat there tending to you. After a couple more squeezes, though, your own mind wandered.

You attempted to fight it by taking a more literal view of things. You looked first at his arms. They were freckled splotchily. It was an interesting pattern in contrast to the multitude of horizontal scars on his hands. His hands... you couldn't quite see them. The fabric of your shirt had completely fallen over top of them as he continued to pressure check. This method of literal examination only worked for as long as you could focus on it, though. Once Izuku began gently dragging his hands up and down your midsection to check for sturdiness, that strategy was less effective.

"It's not slipping... I think you're good for tonight. Let me know... if it... gets..." As Midoriya lifted his head to make proper eye contact while he spoke, he noticed an all-too-familiar expression on your face. Heat had risen to your cheeks, and you were clearly averting your eyes from his own. Had he made you... nervous? He wasn't sure, but it seemed you were timid in comparison to earlier. Izuku slowly removed his hands from under your shirt and placed them on your knees, watching you closely. "Are you alright?" He asked, voice saturated in concern.

"I'm fine! Nothing's wrong." You brushed off his concern, though you were still twiddling around. "You said it seems alright?" You aimed to change the subject. It was time for bed anyway! Midoriya had to be exhausted from today's training, after all.

"Yes... I applied about as much pressure as a mattress would and you didn't flinch. I think you'll be alright to sleep," He nodded. Would you be able to get him back to his usual mindset any time soon? It was beginning to get uncomfortable– usually, Deku was the one getting flustered, but right now he was calm and you were the one stumbling over yourself.

All you could do was nod. Eventually, Midoriya backed away from you to allow you to change. It was just the break you needed. You walked into the bedroom with your bag and pulled out your bedclothes. You were met with a shock when you turned to put them on, though.

"That can't be right..." You said that louder than you'd meant to. Who wouldn't, though? This was a room for two people, wasn't it?

"Is everything okay in here?" Midoriya was approaching, but you didn't hear him entirely. You wished he'd knocked when he entered, though. Izuku walked in on you with your shirt hanging from your neck. You rushed to put it back on, slipping it onto your arms as he stepped forward.

"Only... one?" He questioned. It seemed he hadn't noticed you. It wasn't surprising because the two of you were confused about the same thing. Be it some twist of fate, or some odd plot device– the sight in front of you was absurd. There was only one bed.

"I'm sure this is a mistake. I mean, our room was on the wrong floor," You mentioned.

"You're right... but, I don't think we can do anything about it." Midoriya was shifting from foot to foot behind you. "I should sleep on the couch! You're injured, and I don't want you to get hurt any more than you are." The way he spoke was not that of his usual self. He still sounded like he was thinking tactically as opposed to how he normally would.

"No! I mean- no. Izuku, you can stay in here." You looked at the bed once again. There may have only been one- but it was huge! No reason for him to sleep on the couch at all. "Even so, what if I do get hurt? I'd rather you be here to help me." Were you doubting his toilet paper bandages?

...You were. You were doubting his toilet paper bandages.

"I-" Had you finally choked him up? Gotten at least some Midoriya-like response? You had! For once, you managed to make him think about the situation. You didn't know why, but for some reason, you were pleased by it.

"You..?" You prodded.

"Well! I suppose you may be right..." He was looking away from you now, rocking back and forth. You'd gotten him just as nervous as he'd had you. Midoriya was clearly trying to rationalize what you'd said. You were correct- his creation was his creation. If it tore or fell off, he would have to be the one to replace it. So it was settled. Midoriya would sleep on one end, you on the other.

You attempted to change your clothes once Izuku had left but soon noticed that would be more difficult than planned. When you attempted to lift your arms over your head, you felt a painful sting around you. You could hear his pacing around come to a stop when you audibly expressed distress. You'd just gotten your shirt off fine! Why was the wound hurting now?

Things began to make sense over time, though. You'd encountered a villain with no flashy or visible quirk– but they'd hit you with something unique to them. That kitty had claws, and it was looking like they'd hit you with a concealed weapon.

"Are you okay!?" Izuku rushed in soon after you'd realized what was going on. He sounded remarkably worried. Perhaps your cry of pain was louder than you'd thought...

"I'm fine... I think." You had to sit down. The more time that passed, the more painful things became. "I don't think that villain I fought had a mutant quirk..." You huffed, eyes watery. It was only downhill from here.

"Really? Did I jot it down wrong? What's happening?" He was frantic in his efforts to gather information. Midoriya sat down on the side of you that wasn't injured to avoid hurting you.

"The more... I move..." You were slowly growing out of breath. Were you panicking yourself? It felt as though maybe the venomous scratches raked harder with the rise and fall of your chest. "I don't know... I was fine until I tried to move my arms... maybe I did it too fast?"

"Oh no this is bad... the only time I've seen a quirk like this was..." No need to type out all of his panic-filled sentences. Long story short, he felt a bit responsible for your pain. You hadn't started hurting until he tried to fix it, after all.

"Izuku, I don't care." You began to steady your breathing so that you could talk to him properly, though you still sounded strained. "I just want to go to sleep, and I won't be able to get there on my own." If he really felt he was at fault, he'd likely oblige to helping you. You at least hoped he would, because the pain you felt only got worse when you attempted to care for yourself.

"Are you sure?" He sounded worried again now; not for you, but his skills. It was much like the worry he'd harbored while bandaging you. If he was not careful now, he could really hurt you. His ceaseless trembling made his unease all the more clear, and you all the more impatient.

"Hey- just think of it how you did last time. You know... like you're being a hero?" You mentioned his earlier attitude, and almost like a lightbulb had been lit, he changed his demeanor.

"I was acting like that? I'm sorry- I didn't notice." He stood up and stepped in front of you. "But, if it helped... I guess I could do it again." Izuku was visibly trying to switch attitudes again. It did not take long. Soon, he was mumbling things he noticed about the quirk's effect on you while looking for a place to start. Now, you felt the same hands that'd helped wrap you on your sides once again. This time, though, he was focused on your clothes.

"That's your pajama shirt over there, right?" He asked, voice wary. For a second you were unsure why.

"Yes, that's the one. Could you bring it to me?" You replied simply. If you kept a work-based mindset, it would help him maintain one as well.

"Of course! But, well... I guess what I'm trying to say here is that you shouldn't put it on on your own..." Though he was attempting to remain professional, he couldn't help the tint that covered his cheeks. This was embarrassing. "I'll look away! Only one of us needs to see for me to help you, right?" He was starting to let the fear seep through his voice. You brushed it off to save his pride.

You just nodded, assuming it'd work. It did work! Though you couldn't focus the entire time. Izuku ran his hands down the sides of your top, grabbing the bottom hem gently. He did his best not to bump into you or cause you to move more than you had to, knowing it'd be painful.

It was hard to get your arms up, but you did it for as long as you could while Midoriya slid off your day clothes and neatly fixed your bed shirt atop of you. Once he'd let it down, he helped you bring your arms down and laid you on the bed.

"I promise to stay close so you can call me if you need to. Only if you want to, that is! I don't know how long the effects of that quirk will last, so..." Whatever the effects were. It was a bit hard to tell. As you laid still, the pain from before began to subside. Sure enough, you were just fine to lay on the bed. Neither side of you caused trouble–

That is until you chose to remove the bottoms you'd been wearing. It was a tad warm with another person in bed, and you were under the covers anyhow. It shouldn't have mattered! Sadly for you, though, the last bit of stretch you needed to move them past your hips was too much for your body to handle. Perhaps the bend in your midsection was what caused the quirk to activate? Every time you moved your core, venomous stings prickled throughout your body. Izuku felt the sheets rustling and turned over to check on you.

"Are you alright?" He asked, sitting up on his forearm to look over you. You stopped moving, a wise decision, and cleared your throat to respond to him.

"Well, I was trying to get comfortable, and..." Your sentence trailed as you began to think this was nothing worth troubling him with. "It's nothing, Izuku. Just a little pain."

"Well, how can I help?" He sounded once again concerned, and you could feel him sitting up behind you.

"No ways you'd want to! Don't worry about it, really." You insisted, but he insisted harder. It took quite some time, but eventually, he broke you into telling him the issue. Midoriya was clearly rattled, but he also dispensed a strange look of determination. He did tell you he would be there to help you, and he was determined to live up to his word. A hero may be put in uncomfortable situations after all.

After a long list of questions asking for consent to help you with your... specific problem, he raised enough courage to scoot behind you and begin his assistance. What happened next nearly stunned you. Izuku did his best not to move you as he gently slid his left hand beneath your hips. He felt around for a moment, and you could almost hear him panicking when he couldn't find the top seem of your pants. He decided it'd be best to find the top using his other hand, and so shortly after you found his right hand slinking fingers around your waist and traveling down to your thigh.

Your face burned as he continued to feel around for your clothes. Eventually, he found what he thought to be the hook he was looking for. As he pulled and you shifted backward into  him to stop the fabric from moving, he realized he'd picked the wrong thing.

"I am so sorry! I didn't mean to- oh this is bad. I'm so so sorry, I didn't know that was there and I-" Boy was he good at talking. You shushed him quickly, though, feeling well enough to use your own hand to guid his down to where your bottoms really were. You attempted not to squirm as he carefully pulled them past your thighs and got them off of your feet.

"Thank you." You smiled, sporting a grateful expression. The both of you were thankful it was dark, because each of you had blushed faces due to what'd happened under the covers.

"You're very welcome." Deku sounded distant when he replied. He attempted to act as normal as possible, but the air in the room was thick enough to suffocate you. Today was eventful to say the very least.

"Hey, Izuku?" You called him, hoping you could surface his mind.

"Oh- yes?" He sounded attentive enough.

"Let's.. go to bed, yeah?"

"That... is a great idea."

In the stoic silence of your room you eventually found yourself drifting into sleep. Izuku hadn't moved his hands from around your waist when he brought them up from your legs. You were glad, because had he made any sudden movements in his startled state he would've done more harm than good. It wasn't like the position of his hands was uncomfortable, either. Soon enough, both of you were unconscious. It would be a shame if someone walked in that night... oh well. Not like they could find the room.

｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ

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[pascalpanic]

Ok I know cigarettes are like.. BAD ok. But I keep having this thot about riding javi on his stupid ass couch as he smokes a cigarette and you just take it from his lips and smoke as you quite literally ride him into the couch. He thinks it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

Hazy Vision (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: After a long weekend together, Javier has to go back to work. You really miss him.

W/C: 3.4k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, babes), lots of dirty talk and innuendos, references to a lot of sex outside of what happens in the plot, creampie, language, mild overstimulation. LOTS of talk of cigarettes and smoking. brief mentions of food and alcohol. afab reader.

A/N: you broke my soul, anon. and for that I love you. p.s. HAPPY BIRTHDAY @theteddylupinexperience!!! hope u have an awesome day and that this is a sufficient gift lol

It’s hot as hell in Colombia, and your air conditioner broke.

Javier is gracious, of course. He’s your boyfriend. He cares for you. He’d do anything for you, even with nothing in it for him. It’s a bonus to him that you’ll get to spend the foreseeable future at his place, since every repairman in the country is working at full capacity.

Another bonus is you wearing his clothing. At first, it was funny to him. You didn’t grab any extra clothing when you first came over, so it was natural that you’d grab a shirt of his to sleep in. Then the morning came, and you wandered around his apartment in a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt. He had to admit, you looked stunning like that. So casual, carefree, painfully domestic. You’d pounced on him in bed after two coffees and insisted that you spend the weekend in bed entirely.

So you did. Saturday was spent mostly nude in his big bed, your head pressed to his chest or occasionally to his lips. When Javier asked if you wanted to run to your apartment for more clothing, you’d pouted. “But it’s hot outside. I don’t wanna go all the way over there.”

As much as you enjoyed your own clothing, there was such a charm to wearing Javi’s. His clothes were big on you, even as they pulled tight on his thick arms and broad chest. They were comfortable too, and smelled just like him. It was a perfect comfort when he was at work and you sat bored in his apartment.

Javi sighed and asked if you’d like him to go get some. You gave a wide grin, and he begrudgingly made his way to your apartment. He packed you a bag of enough clothes for a week, and promised you if the air conditioning wasn’t fixed by then, he’d do it himself. And when he got back, he’d absolutely wreck you.

When he returned, he made good on his second promise and the two of you spent the whole day in his bed. A few lazy rounds of sex, lots of little kisses, and murmured words of affection into the other’s ear.

It was so perfect that it was really no surprise that Sunday came and went the same. You’d showered in the early morning, and Javier joined you. Shower sex occurred. Then you made breakfast and ate it in bed with him. You dozed in and out of sleep together for a few hours too. When noon rolled around, Javier treated you to a wonderful hour of his face buried between your legs, eating you out and never stopping. More sleep. You watched some television, snuggled, talked about the week behind you and the week coming up.

You ordered and ate takeout for dinner, also in bed. You finally drifted off late at night and groaned as Javier’s loud alarm woke you.

“Don’t go to work, baby,” you whine, throwing your arms around him.

“I just spent two days in bed with you. What more do you want from me?” He murmurs sleepily, sitting up and running a hand through his messy hair.

“All of your love and affection,” you say cheerfully, as if it’s not hard to give. Javier has already found it isn’t difficult with you. You’d had it since the moment you met.

“Cute, very cute,” he chuckles and taps your ass as he gets out of bed.

-

Even with the air conditioner pumping chilled breezes through the apartment at full speed, it’s as if the heat outside has settled inside of you. Your skin isn’t sweating but you feel flushed, stifled by all the clothing you’re wearing. So you strip down a little, heading to Javier’s room for something light.

As you remove your top, you smile as you see your favorite of Javier’s shirts. It’s a bright magenta, and you slip it over your shoulders. It’s a light material, but you leave it unbuttoned, exposing your lacy white bra beneath it. You keep the white shorts you’re wearing on. Looking in the mirror, you wish there was a way to show Javier how good you look right now. Instead, you settle for the fact that it’s… fuck, it’s only 4.30?

You’re restless. You’ve done plenty today: cleaned Javi’s kitchen, watched some telenovelas, read from an interesting book you were making your way through, organized his bedroom, and it’s still only 4:30. If you’re lucky, Javier will get home around 5:15 at the earliest. You know his job is demanding; he could be there all night.

Desperate for anything to do, you turn to one of Javier’s vices. Grabbing the pack of cigarettes from the counter, you make your way to the couch and plop down, resting your feet on his coffee table. You take out a single cigarette and ignite it with the little flick lighter Javier keeps on the end table.

For the next ten minutes, you breathe slowly, inhaling and exhaling the nicotine. Your eyes slip shut as your head rests against the back of the couch. You’re tired and lazy and still so fucking warm for some reason.

The night passes painstakingly slowly. You watch the 5:00 news, then the 6:00 and the 6:30. Finally, around 6:45, the doorknob jingles and Javier enters.

You’re cooking dinner by then, the stovetop sizzling with something good. It smells wonderful, he notes as he drops his briefcase and keys by the door, but there’s something even more enticing in the kitchen.

His radio is playing loudly, and you dance around the kitchen to the music as you cook. There’s sunlight filtering in through the windows, the last rays of the summer sun starting to descend. The large shirt fans out as you twirl, revealing the soft bare skin of your lower back. You’re already driving him crazy and you don’t even know he’s home.

He walks into the kitchen, and you look up with a grin as you see him. “Hi, Javi,” you sing as you wrap your arms around him, on your tiptoes. “Missed you today.”

“Missed you too… is that my shirt?” He asks, and you laugh happily, looking down at your outfit.

Javier finally processes the rest of the look and it sends a chill down his spine. Your breasts look so perfect, as if they’re perched there just for him. They are, but he doesn’t know that yet. “Yeah. I know we have the A/C pumping in here, but it still feels so hot,” you shrug, turning back and stirring something in the pan.

Javier wraps his arms around you from behind, his chin perching on your shoulder. “You look good in my clothes,” he murmurs.

“I think it’s making me pick up some of your habits,” you giggle and nod to a glass of whiskey to the right of the stove. “I’ll pour you one. You keep stirring these,” you tell him and kiss his cheek, sliding out of his arms.

He gets changed eventually, out of his work clothes and into a t-shirt and a rare pair of shorts you never knew he owned. It must be hot at the Embassy, you consider, and even though it’s cool in here, the effects linger. He must feel the heat the same way you do.

The two of you sip your glasses of whiskey as dinner cooks, and Javier’s eyes rarely leave yours. When they do, they’re on your chest or your ass in those little white shorts.

“Go sit down,” you tell him as the food finishes. “It’s almost done, and it’ll need to cool before we can eat it.”

He nods in agreement and meanders to his couch, lying down lengthwise and sighing. You glance over at him and smirk a little. You’d planned this all day, been missing his body and his strong arms. His warmth was missing when you attempted taking a nap in his bed. He was right where you wanted him, lighting up a cigarette. The food is done, just needs to cool now.

“I was so restless today,” you smile as you wander similarly to the living room. He takes in your legs as they stand in front of him, rubbing a hand up the back of your thigh and admiring what he sees.

“And why was that?” He asks before blowing out a cloud of grey from between his lips.

You shrug. “Missed you. Had nothing to do, really, since this isn’t my house. But mainly I missed you.”

He grabs at your thigh, thick fingers pressing into the soft flesh, and you smirk down at him. You straddle him, stealing the cigarette from his lips. You let it dangle between yours and smile down at him.

He looks up at you, dazed. Between your hips hovering above his and the nicotine slowly buzzing its way into his brain, he’s beyond contentedness. “Missed you too, sweet thing,” he murmurs, splaying his fingers across your thigh. Your hands are similarly pressed to his chest, fingers spread wide against the cotton-covered skin, skin that you can tell is warm and turning pink from a rush of blood. “Got to take you whenever I wanted this weekend. Had to wait all day to get home and fuck you again.”

His words make you shiver, and you pass the cigarette back to him. When he takes a drag in, you grind your hips across his slowly. “How was work today?” You ask, though you really don’t care. You know the answer when it comes to Javi: stressful, annoying, frustrating, tiring.

He shudders too, and you can feel his cock hardening beneath you. “Shitty,” he sighs. “Fuckin’ Stechner. I swear to god, I’d let the narcos take him.”

You chuckle softly, starting to drag your hips across his aching crotch. “They wouldn’t want him. They’d want someone like you,” you mumble, leaning down over him. “That would really bring the gringos down.”

He’s in Heaven, he really must be. Your tits hang in front of his face, and you steal his cigarette and take another drag, your hips continuing to grind into his. There’s the smell of cooking from the kitchen and in all honesty, Javier is blissed out already. “No they wouldn’t.”

You giggle and kiss the side of his face, giving him the cigarette again. “Mm, maybe you’re right. Too stubborn. Or your girlfriend might go crazy and go after them from withholding her boyfriend’s dick from her.”

Javier chuckles lazily, taking one last drag before stubbing out the remains in the ashtray. “Wouldn’t make it 24 hours before you’d kill them all. You know how you get when you’re determined.”

You nod, lifting your face to kiss his lips slowly. It takes a few moments, passionate and deep and tasting of cigarettes and that whiskey. You pull away and his eyes dart between yours. “I’m going to get up, and you’re going to take off your clothes,” you mumble, your lips only millimeters from his.

He smirks up at you and steals one more kiss. “Then get up and let me undress,” he murmurs, and you stand to the side for him.

He chuckles and sits upright again, pulling down your shorts and admiring the panties beneath. He rubs his fingers across your folds through them, and he can already feel your wetness gathering. “Oh fuck me, honey.”

“You can if you get your own clothes off,” you tease and pull off his t-shirt yourself. He pushes off his shorts and boxers, kicking them aside as it reveals his rock-hard dick. You smile and lick your lips a little. “Lay back down.”

He does exactly that, smiling. You slip your panties off and straddle him again, your breasts bouncing in your bra with the movement. His pink shirt follows you along, and he can’t help but run his hands up your sides, admiring you in the hue. “Pink is your color.”

“Only when it’s yours,” you giggle, dragging your hips into Javier’s erection. He shudders and you guide yourself to rest with his dick pressed into your folds. “You ready for me?” You ask, fingers splayed on his chest again. This time, they lay on his caramel-colored abs, making you smile at the juxtaposition between now and just a few moments ago; blue fabric separated your hands touching him, now you can only feel bare skin.

“Go ahead, baby,” he assures you, his large hands grabbing your hips and lining you up.

It doesn’t take more than a second for you to sink down on him, moaning and tilting your head back at the feeling as you slowly take more and more. “Javi,” you whimper softly, toes curling at the sensation. “You’re so fucking big,” you whine, and it’s true. He is, his dick almost painfully long as it presses up and into your cervix already.

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, his eyes closed as he takes in the sensation of you on top of him.

“Light another cigarette,” you order him, his cock fully sheathed inside of you. He nods, sitting up to reach the pack, and both of you make soft noises at the grind it gives, the base of his cock against your entrance.

He flicks the lighter and holds it to the little white stick. The end glows orange. “Good,” you nod and begin to lift yourself up and push yourself down as Javier takes a long drag from the cigarette.

You involuntarily tighten at how fucking good he looks beneath you, a light sheen of sweat starting to form on his forehead, smoke trailing from between his lips. “Javier,” you groan, your eyes slipping shut as you begin to bounce on him.

He knows exactly what you want, what you need to make this all that much better. His free hand no longer rests on your hips but circles your clit with two fingers. “There we go, baby girl,” he moans out at the way you sound from the motion. You sound wrecked, and he can’t get enough of it. “Mm, fuck, take what you need from me.”

Javier opens his eyes to look up at you. The sight is fucking magnificent: your tits bounce against that white lace, the pink fabric of his shirt draped against your sides. Just when he thinks you couldn’t look even hotter, you snatch his cigarette.

You cry out his name again and again as you slowly take a puff, the sensation too much to bear. Gripping the cigarette with your teeth, you press both hands to his chest and ride him faster, harder.

Your face is furrowed in concentration, sweat sliding down one temple. A bit of grey smoke obscures your face to him, but it’s still a fucking sight to behold. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and needed and more, a girl like you wearing his shirt and smoking his favorite cigarettes while you bounce on his dick, that sexy body moving along with his.

He can’t even thrust up into you. You’re grinding your hips down with every time you bottom out, his dick pressing right against your g-spot. He can’t even try. It’s fucking amazing. One of his hands reaches up to allow you to take a drag from it. It’s incredibly intimate, not just the way you’re obliterating him but the way he holds the cigarette to your lips. He takes it away for you to puff the smoke from your lungs then brings it back.

It doesn’t take long with the combination of everything. You shudder and pass the cigarette off to him fully, too occupied with what you’re doing. “Fuck, baby,” you whimper, his fingers pressing faster against your clit. “Really close.”

“Yeah?” He murmurs, taking his own puff from the cigarette before stubbing it out to his side on the coffee table. His long arms can easily reach. With a hand now free, he grips your waist and guides you up and down on him, just the way you like it.

His hand drifts higher, reaching your neck. He doesn’t squeeze or grab, just rests it there. Holds you in place, almost. It feels good, his hands roaming your body, and you cry out in pleasure.

“Come on, honey. Cum for me,” Javier urges.

Only a few more seconds pass before your peak washes over you, sending you into sheer bliss. Javi’s fingers don’t slow in the slightest, and he takes this opportunity to begin thrusting up into you as your bouncing involuntarily slows.

Your hand slides over where his rests on your neck, lacing your fingers through his. You cry his name and your head falls against his hand, eyes fluttering with pleasure.

Javier is now the one in control once more. He brings both hands to your hips and thrusts up into you, his movements sharp and harsh. His hips smack yours and the tip, buried deep inside of you, hits your g-spot, sending you into a pleasant state of overstimulation. “Fuck, Javi,” you whimper, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

Everything feels so warm and tender, your walls oversensitive now. It doesn’t matter to you in the slightest; rather, you relish it. You bring one hand to your clit and rub it yourself, shuddering. “Come on, Javi,” you plead, regaining yourself and working your hips back against his.

It’s all so good and so much and overwhelming. He can barely use any of his senses other than touch, can barely hear you as his head spins with the feeling of teetering on the edge. “Gonna cum, baby girl,” he groans, and you work your hips harder into his, desperate for it.

He can tell, and it makes him lose control. He spills hot and deep inside of you, the heat rushing through his body expunging the warmth that’s built inside of him all day from the goddamn Colombian summer. “That’s it, fuck,” he cries out as the orgasm rolls through his body.

The feeling of his cum spilling inside you is just enough, in tandem with your fingers. You cum a second time, your walls squeezing him tight, milking him dry of anything he can produce. “Javi,” you whimper, and he only notices you’re cumming for the second time when a warm gush rushes across his hips.

“Fuck, good girl, baby,” he breathes out as he comes down from his high, you equally as overwhelmed on top of him. After a few moments of heavy breathing, you remove yourself from around him and lie there, pressed to his chest.

Javier’s legs are bent at the knee, surrounding you on either side of your thighs. They press into you, and you lay on top of him with your ear pressed over his heartbeat. It’s still frantic, but it’s coming down. Javier wraps his arms around you, a finger tracing slowly up and down your spine through that damned pink shirt of his.

“Why do you love this shirt so much, hm?” He asks, breaking the warm and tired silence between you.

You chuckle. It’s certainly not what you expected to be asked, but you like it. “Kind of think I look like you when I wear it. I think what you saw just then is what I see normally. You on top of me, fucking me hard, sometimes with a cigarette.”

“Oh, you looked just like me,” he laughs sarcastically, shaking his head. “And when I have I ever fucked you while smoking?”

“Just like you,” you repeat in a soft and happy murmur, a small smile gracing your face.

“Jesus, you really must have missed me today,” he chuckles softly.

“Withdrawal, I guess. You leave me, I have to pick up another vice. I sat here smoking for a while today.”

“First of all, I did not leave you,” Javi chuckles softly. “And really?”

You shrug. “It just came to me to do it. It wasn’t great or anything, but it was something to do. To pretend you were there with me.”

Javi sighs and kisses the side of your head. “Well, should we go eat before the food is fully cold?”

You laugh. “I think it’s already cold, Javi.”

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867

[munstysmind]

NOT JUST A MUG - Maddison - An Original Story

WARNING/S: Panic attack, anxiety

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

MAIN MASTERLIST

MADDISON MASTERLIST

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"FUCK" Maddie yells as her hand seizes up, causing her to drop the mug she's holding. Fuck sake, not again. Her hand's been playing up a lot over the last week or so.

"What happened, are you OK?" Chris asks as he comes rushing out of her room pulling his shirt over his head. She just nods as she starts to massage her hand, trying her best not to cry.

"Don't move, you'll cut your foot. Have you got a broom?" he asks, seeing the broken mug at her feet. She nods and points to the laundry cupboard.

He gets her broom and sweeps the pieces away from her feet and into a pile in the corner of the kitchen. He'll throw them out in a minute, he wants to check on Maddie first

"It's OK" he says quietly when he goes over to her.

"It's not" she whispers as he starts to rub her back

"Maddie, it's just a mug, accidents happen" he tells her, thinking that's the reason she's upset, that maybe it has something to do with Travis.

"It's not the mug" she tells him as her breathing starts to pick up. Oh fuck, was it sentimental to her?

"It didn't break too bad, I can probably fix it" he says, trying to backtrack from his stupid statement.

"It shouldn't have broken" she snaps before sharply inhaling, fear appearing on her face. Chris' heart drops. He doesn't even want to think about what's currently going through her head.

"I'm sorry" she stammers as she starts to back away from him. He finally sees the way she's rubbing her hand, putting two and two together as she frantically starts looking around her apartment.

"Mads... what's wrong?" he asks, worried by her change in behaviour

"Headphones... need them" she says, still searching for them. She lets out a frustrated growl when she realises she's left them in her car.

She closes her eyes and tries to focus on her breathing when she feels Chris's hands go over her ears, trying to drown out the noise the way her headphones do.

After a minute she shakes her head, it's not working. She's starting to really panic now, he can see it. He takes her face and gently makes her look at him.

"What's my name?" he asks which makes her frown at him in confusion.

"What's my name?" he repeats, trying to get her to focus. He sees her fighting hard to try and answer his question. He knows it's hard for her brain to find the answer right now but he's got to try

"Ch... Chris" she finally says, still in the middle of a panic attack.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty... twenty two"

"My shirt, what colour is it?"

"Grey"

"Good, what day is it?"

"Weekend"

He lets out a small laugh at her answer followed by a sigh of relief when he sees her breathing starts to slow, it's working.

"That's it... that's it. Where are we?"

"My apartment"

"Where is it?"

"Vancouver"

"Yeah... you OK?"

"I'm sorry I snapped at you" she tells him as she starts to cry.

"Shhhh, come here" he says, pulling her into him and hugging her. She's just had a panic attack because she snapped at him in a moment for frustration. There's a reason she had this reaction and it's not a good one.

"The mug's not what you're upset about is it?" he asks quietly after a few minutes

"No" she admits, looking up at him with her chin resting on his chest

"Maddie, please talk to me"

"My hand... it seized up"

Chris wants to smack himself in the forehead. 'It's not the mug'. She was trying to tell him she just couldn't find the words at the time. He tries so hard to be attentive to her but he was so focused on the mug that he missed it.

"How did you do that?" she asks, pulling him out of his mental self scolding 

"Do what?"

"Pull me out of my panic attack"

"Practice, I've learnt great tricks over the years"

"What?"

"I know how scary it is. I have panic attacks too... anxiety"

"You do?"

"Yeah... all my life"

"What didn't you say anything?"

"You have more than enough going on right now Maddie, I don't need to add to it by bringing it up"

"You shouldn't have to hide it because of me"

"I wasn't hiding..." he starts but stops himself mid sentence. It's not going to help. He can already tell by the look on her face that she feels bad.

What he said is true though, his anxiety isn't something he hides. In fact he's quite open about it, especially with fans. But he hasn't told her until now which is probably why she thinks he has been hiding it from her.

"You can tell me when it's bad" she says quietly, hoping that he trusts her enough to be vulnerable with her the way she's been with him

"I'll tell you when mine is bad if you promise to tell me when yours is" he tells her, encouraged by her words. He knows she's had a hard time accepting her own anxiety so her willingness to help him with his is a big thing in his eyes.

"Deal" she says with a nod, giving him a smile that quickly drops as a frown appears on her face.

"Mads?" he asks cautiously, not sure what's caused the sudden shift.

"Does it get better?" she asks worried. The thought of it being like this for the rest of her life it too much for her to think about.

"Yeah, it does. I promise you it does. It's just gonna take time" he says, giving her a gentle squeeze.

TAGLIST

@aussieez

@littleone65

[mrsmaybank]

Apocalypse - Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

“You’re finally taking Cinema and Literature.” I felt him smile against the skin of my shoulder. He said it so casually. As if my underwear weren’t on his floor and the room didn’t reek of last night’s sex and Absolut. 

CONTENT WARNINGS: Semi-Graphic Descriptions of Sex, Alcohol, Language, Implications of fighting/angst, toxic relationship

A/N:  You can’t tell me that little collage isn’t exactly what it would be like to date college Matthew. He was the embodiment of NYU Film Major. Looked fucking hot doing it too. Cigs After Sex is the soundtrack to your relationship, by the way. Listen to Apocalypse here.

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NYU TISCH SCHOOL OF THE ARTS 

9:05 AM - Saturday, August 26, 2000 Sophomore Year 

 It was early Saturday morning. I was naked and petrified. Bare back faced to Matthew Gray Gubler. I didn’t know if he was awake, and if he was what the hell would I say. I hoped as soon as he realized the naked girl in his bed was me he’d kick me out. Save me the shameful, deer in headlights bra collecting exit.  I prayed he would tell me to leave so I just....would. I heard pillows and sheets rustle, and I just hoped he just did what was best for the both of us. 

Tell me to leave Matthew. 

Like always though, we were absolutely not on the same page. 

“So..” His big hand slid over my hip from behind me, his palm gently forcing me back onto him, “You’re finally taking Cinema and Literature.” I felt him smile against the skin of my shoulder. He said it so casually. As if my underwear weren’t on his floor and the room didn’t reek of last night’s sex and Absolut. 

“Yeah.” I answered. His short finger nails dug into his hips as his chest met my back. Neck craning over me. I shuddered and he noticed. 

“You like it right?” It was a painfully obvious double entendre and I couldn’t figure out either of the answers. The Cinema and Literature professors unconventional teaching methods were a circulating debate at NYU, but fucking my ex AND staying the night the first weekend back on campus was indisputably wrong. Problem was I really enjoyed both. 

Wet lips began to pepper equally wet kisses on my neck. My ability to move or speak was stripped. It was embarrassing really; I couldn’t focus or function when he touched me. Matthew liked that. A lot. Somethings never change. 

“Your opinion on Scorsese?” His hands traveled through sheets and onto the bare skin of my chest. I sucked in a deep breath and looked him in the eye for the first time since last night. He had a cocky, stupid hot smile on his face. His hands slipped under me and I knew I was gone so I looked away. I didn’t want to see what he was thinking. This was so incredibly self destructive. We were swiftly undoing all the slow healing we’d both already done. 

My brain spun all its gears at once to get out an answer while his hands practically methodically massaged my boobs. The feeling was the best kind of familiar. “You value my opinion?” 

A hand made it’s way to my face, pulling it to his so that we could look at each other again. “Always did.” His voice was soft with sincerity that affected me more then I would’ve liked it to. 

God, why? Why did things end the way they did? Why did....Why was.... Just why? There were so many whys, way too many fucking whys. Just tell me why, Matthew, please. 

Then he kissed me, and it felt like time didn’t exist anymore. 

Your lips, my lips 

Apocalypse

Time was like that for awhile, non-existent. The only thing that existed and mattered were the lips attached to mine and the torturously clever hand in between my legs. He stroked me with such tender care and affinity, I almost forgot we’d exchanged “Fuck you” more times then “I love you”. My breath got heavier and my moans got louder. I’d always meant the “I love you” more then the “Fuck you”. 

“Come on pretty girl, come for me.” The strokes and rubs of my clit and insides got more intense as his mouth nibbled at my earlobe, “I know you missed it.”

“S-shit!” And like that, I let go. I gave him what we both wanted too badly for our own good. 

He got up first. I tried not to look as he dressed himself, but I couldn’t help it. He manipulated all of my senses, vision included. My eyes couldn’t leave him and he smiled when he noticed my shy stare. 

“I was surprised when you said Hi last night.” He said, absent mindedly zipping his fly. 

“It would’ve been weird if I didn’t.” I responded, forcing myself to say it plainly. 

“Not really, all things considered.” He rummaged through still unpacked boxes, “You need a shirt?” It was cheeky and unappreciated, but I still took the offer. 

It was brown and striped, a personal favorite back in the days of cuddlefucking and PDAs in front of all of our friends. This boy was too clever. He tossed it to me before putting on his own and laying back down. I shimmied the shirt on. It smelled like his detergent and the butterflies in my stomach were having a field day. 

“I uh--I annotated the first lecture if you want it.” The sentence coming from him was uncharacteristically low pitched. He’d run out of things he could say without one or both of us choking up. 

“S-sure.” I nodded, “That’d be help-” 

There was a pounding on the door, and instantly in my chest. 

“C’mon Gube! It’s first Saturday back! We got Bloody Mary’s and chicken wings calling our mothafuckin’ names!” It was Danny. Matthew’s best friend, my dormmates friend, all of my friend’s friend, and obviously, MY friend. It was the worst possible person to be knocking on the door right now.

“Gubler, you bitch!” He laughed, “I know you’re in there man.” 

I was silent as a mouse. We could play this off. He’ll leave eventually. 

“Well motherfucker, I’m coming in! Rick gave me his key. Hide your dick if you’re jacking it!” 

Fuckin’ Rick. His dormmate. Didn’t know much about him other then he had good weed and definitely was not here last night. 

I was frozen in fear and Matthew’s hands wiped his face and then didn’t leave. They were trying to hide a smile. I was absolutely horrified and he was slightly amused. One word. Typical. 

“Holy. Fucking. Shit.” Danny’s jaw had swung open when he entered the room and saw what was happening. 

His best friend and the ex-girlfriend he’d probably, no definitely, proclaimed extreme hatred for were sharing a bed and clothes on a Saturday morning. 

“So like.... is it exactly what it looks like?” Danny tried and failed miserably to stifle his laugh when he saw my face. 

“Shut your fucking mouth and get out.” I practically screamed. Thankfully, he listened. 

I was seething. At myself, at Matthew and at fucking Danny for being such a goddamn jackass. 

“Hey..” Matthew rushed to calm me down but I hissed at him before he could touch me. 

I launched myself out of bed and scrambled to get my things. “Phone, keys, wallet...what am I missing?” I muttered to my stupid, hungover, fucking mentally exhausted brain. I was answered with shimmery fabric peeking from behind a sheet. “Dress.” 

“Here.” Matthew threw me some basketball shorts. I didn’t thank him. 

Without a word, I was out the door. Fuck. 

-----------------------

The walk back to my dorm was pitiful. I scurried down the halls with dress and heels in hand, in clothes that were so evidently not mine, receiving mixed looks I didn’t have the brain capacity to decipher. I just wanted to cry.

I laid down in my freshly unpacked dorm, and there were two very distinct scents. My dorm mate Lo’s soy linen candles and my regret. 

This kind of regret was laced with confusion and animosity and anger, and as much as I wanted to ignore it, there was a growing feeling of longing. Longing for Matthew and the way those skinny ass arms felt wrapped around my waist. 

I couldn’t think about it for too long though, because Lo and her girlfriend, Jen were now in the doorway. Donuts and coffee in hand. God didn’t hate me so much after all.

“Give me one, right now.” I snatched a chocolate glaze from the box. 

“You good?” Lo laughed and Jen gave me a look. 

Shoving the donut into my face, I figured the best way to do this was bluntly. Danny was going to tell them within the hour anyway. Swallowing, I started rambling immediately. “I fucked Gubler last night.” I took another bite and kept talking with my mouth full, “Woke up and--Shit.” Sprinkles were falling everywhere. “He fucked me again.” I opened my eyes wide, “With his fingers.” I sighed, “They’re so long and--” 

“Do NOT finish that sentence.” Lo interrupted. “Girl, why?” 

“You think I fucking know why?” I threw myself back on my bed. “I barely remember what happened last night. All I know is where I woke up.” 

“You’re fucked kiddo,” Jen said patting my head. “You get your bag, babe?” she asked Lo. 

“Yeah,” Lo came out the closet and gave me a kiss on the forehead, “Sleep well my child.” 

They were gone and so was my ability to not let tears stream down my face.  There was a light knock on my door. If it was Matthew I think I would scream. 

-----------------

Thank you for reading. 

[nsheetee]

mocha | jeno

pairing: basketball player!jeno x barista!reader genre: coffee shop au | fluff, slight angst summary: you tutor star basketball player jeno when you realize he’s spending late nights studying in the cafe you work at.

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this is a part of the moonlight cafe series — please read the preface before continuing reading

he walks as if he’s in a hurry, not minding the jingling bell on the door above him and sits down at a booth in the corner of the cafe

he has a baseball cap on, and a hoodie over that; you can’t recognize who he is at all

waiting a few moments, you glance over at his table again

he has several textbooks and his laptop out, promptly putting his airpods in his ears and beginning his homework

you just write him off as any other student that comes in here at night, the only difference with him is that he doesn’t order a coffee with an unhealthy amount of espresso shots in it

you don’t mind him, but it is a bit worrying when he spends the whole night switching between laying his head down on the table and softly thumping it against the wood, and staring blankly between his laptop and textbook

when he leaves that night at 3am, you send a silent wish after him that whatever he was studying for goes in his favor 

but surprisingly, he shows up the next night as well

it’s saturday night, the evening rush ended a while ago, and the mysterious guy is once again sitting in his spot at the back corner of the cafe

he looks even more frazzled than the night before, yet he doesn’t order anything and continues to diligently work throughout the whole night

this goes on for weeks, and you begin to worry for this poor boy’s sleep schedule

but even more so, you’re curious about who he is, since he never orders anything and always has a hood or a hat on

one night, your curiosity is quenched

“who’s that?” taeil asks you; he’s normally not at the store this late, but forgot to complete taking inventory this morning and came back tonight to finish it up

he nods his head towards your mystery guy, who has slumped over his textbooks and looks to be peacefully sleeping on the table

“not sure. he always comes in and studies for almost the whole night, never orders anything, though.” you shrug at your boss and he frowns

“go give him a mocha, or something. on the house- he looks like he needs to wake up.” taeil turns back to his clipboard and you nod

carrying over a hot mocha to the intriguing character in the corner of the cafe, your heart thumps in suspense

you’ll finally be able to learn who the mystery man is, something you’ve been wondering since day one

you set the mocha down on the table carefully and sit across from him, shaking his arm to wake him up

the guy jerks out of his sleep, a flashcard sticking to his face as he looks around the cafe with lidded eyes

“sorry!” you grimace, holding out your hands in front of you “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just wanted to wake you up. my boss told me to give you this mocha on the house, and to make sure you’re okay.” the guy unsticks the flashcard from his face, and your mouth drops when you realize who the mystery man is

“lee jeno?” you ask, and his sleepy eyes widen when you recognize him

“...no? I think you have me mistaken for someone else...” he clears his throat, looking around the cafe to see if anyone has their attention turned to you two

you would believe him, if he isn’t the most well known face on campus

he’s not only the college’s basketball star who has his face plastered on every basketball-related event at the school and is dating the head cheerleader, but also the guy who sits a few rows in front of you in your calculus class

“I'm 90% sure you’re lee jeno.” you state, and he seems too tired to argue with you about his identity

“okay, yes, that’s me. can you please not tell anyone that I'm here.”

“tell what? that you, a college student, studies?” you tilt your head and cross your arms as you wait for his response

“yeah,” he becomes shy, playing with his airpods that fell out of his ears during his nap, “to be honest, I'm in a calculus class this semester and I don’t understand one bit of it. that’s why I'm here every weekend night.” he explains, not meeting your gaze yet

all of a sudden, it hits you-

he doesn’t know who you are

although your calculus class has almost 100 people in it, you would think he would’ve at least seen you walking past him every monday, wednesday, and friday to your seat behind him

but you’re not surprised that he’s struggling or that he hasn’t noticed you, since you always see him talking with his basketball friends instead of paying attention 

“I can tutor you.” you shrug, and he raises his eyebrows, finally making eye contact, “I work every weekend night, and I took that class last semester.”

you don’t feel guilty about lying

if jeno doesn’t recognize you, then maybe it should stay that way

what he doesn't know won’t hurt thim

“wouldn’t that keep you away from your job...” 

“it calms down after midnight around here, and I usually get bored during that time. what do you say?”

he agrees, and pretty soon you’re tutoring basketball star lee jeno

you thought that keeping your identity secret when you walk into class would be difficult, but jeno is always too busy fooling around with his friends before class starts that it’s easy to sneak past him

jeno comes in after midnight on weekends, you tutor him for about an hour (or until he understands the homework) and then he leaves to get some precious sleep 

jeno might be forever thankful for you

the way you explain things makes sense to him, much more sense than any office hours or ta hours that he has been to

it’s a win-win situation for you both: you can count these hours every night as “volunteer work” and jeno soon comes back to the cafe with his midterm exam, a solid B+ labeled across the top

“good job,” you chime when you see his grade from his phone

a text message notification pops up, and although you don’t read it, you definitely saw the word “party”

“maybe we can skip the study session tonight? you’ve been doing much better lately, and it’s friday night. I bet you want to get out and go to a party, or something.” you suggest, giving jeno a perfect excuse to leave you for the night and join his friends

“nah,” jeno shrugs as he takes back his phone, “I'd much rather hang out with you.”

your heart thuds at his words and you try your hardest to control your facial expression- to somehow bite back the heat threatening to rise to your cheeks

it’s been like this for the past few weeks, ever since you saw this new side to jeno

before tutoring him, he was only the basketball player who loudly fooled around with his friends before class and seemed like he didn’t care about anything else other than basketball

but since you started to get to know him, it’s safe to say you severely misjudged him

he’s probably the most boyish guy you’ve ever met, who cracks jokes that most would cringe at but have you clutching your stomach and wheezing with laughter 

the more time he spent around you, the more comfortable he became, and the more he could tell you his feelings

like how nervous he was for the exam or how scared he was for last week’s game

or how he’s determined to drink the mocha you make him every time he comes to the cafe, as an apology for all the nights he hogged a table and didn’t buy anything

he snuck into your heart, through the spaces between your ribs and planted himself there, unwilling to leave

but you know your feelings aren’t acceptable

he has a girlfriend, a very pretty and popular one that you’re almost sure he won’t leave for little old you

“seriously,” jeno notices your change in tone, “you can go out. you don’t have to stay here.”

“I'm being serious, too. let’s start on the next chapter, since you took this class last semester you’ll know how to do the equations for the next part, right?” jeno is already pulling out his textbook and his papers, determined to start working

your heart races, now for a different reason

although you’re good at calculus, you’re not that good to understand the next chapter yet

“uh...” you trail off, trying to find an excuse, “why do you even want to do math homework right now?” you ask, and jeno suddenly gets quiet

“it’s not really about math anymore, it’s about the person who’s teaching it to me...” he mumbles, but you hear him clearly

your heart is in your throat and your hands clam up from nerves

this is wrong

he has a girlfriend

his life is very different and separate from yours

this is so wrong

“we can’t.” you shake your head, and jeno’s nervous glances at you turns into a heartsick and longing look, “I- I actually haven’t taken this class. I'm taking it... right now.” you admit, the weight on your shoulders being lifted

“what?” he frowns

he doesn’t look good with a frown, his round glasses move with his face

he looks more like a confused puppy than the killer basketball player everyone knows and loves

“I'm in your class, jeno. I sit three rows behind you. I walk past you everyday to my seat.” you roll your eyes lightly

jeno just keeps getting more and more confused with every sentence

“how? how did I not notice you-”

“because you’re too busy messing around with your bros.” you roll your eyes harder this time, but when your gaze lands back on jeno, you immediately start to regret the forcefulness of your words

he looks hurt, and now angry

“so, you lied to me?” jeno looks as if the gears in his brain are running at full capacity, “what did you want from me then? some tickets to the game, maybe my phone number to sell online?” he spits out, embarrassment from you not returning his feelings fueling his harsh words

“do I look like I would do that? you know I'm not that kind of person.”

“forget it. maybe I will go to that party...” he trails off as he packs up his bag

“you act different with your friends than you do with me. you’re just trying to fit into a mold. I called you out on it and you’re mad about it.”

“no. I act different with you because I like you. liked.” he corrects himself, standing up out of the booth

your heart pinches with hurt at his words

there’s nothing like the bitterness of being so close to what you wanted, and then taking 10 steps back because you weren’t aware of how close you were to getting it

“you forgot your drink.” you say bitterly, intent on having the last word

he tucks his airpods into his ears and fixes his hood, “I hate mochas.”

the next night, the basketball team loses their first game of the season

it’s hard not to hear about it, considering the basketball team (and lee jeno) are the pride of the college

but a few more nights pass, and the team loses another game

and then they lose again, keeping them from going to regionals 

even taeyong and taeil talk about it, and you couldn’t look away when they showed you the viral video of jeno’s cheerleader girlfriend breaking up with him in the middle of the court after the last game

although you haven’t talked to him since the fight, you still felt sorry for him

you felt bad, and a bit guilty

jeno hasn’t shown up to calculus since the loss, and his seat is eventually taken by one of his ex-friends 

within a month, jeno turned from the campus’ golden boy to a nobody

and it didn’t matter to you

you haven’t physically seen him since the fight, making you worried about him

is he okay? physically and mentally? is he eating or sleeping? 

part of you hates that you still have feelings for him, and the other part doesn’t care 

you just want to know if he’s okay

and then one very early saturday morning, he walks into the cafe for the very first time since you fought 

the jingle of the bells above him comfort him, they chime a good luck to him as he steps up to the counter where you’re ducked down into the pastry display case 

“I'll be with you in one moment.” you say, tired dripping from your tone, and jeno realizes you’re in the last hour of your shift

“it’s no problem.” your rustling stops at the familiar voice, and your head pops up from behind the counter

lee jeno stands in front of you, his hoodie and baseball hat on, round glasses perched on his nose and his fringe tickling his eyes

“jeno.” you say, as if making sure it’s actually him and that he’s really here

“no, I think you might’ve mistaken me for someone else.” you and jeno both can’t help but let out a small laugh as you unexpectedly reenact the first time you met

“what are you doing here?” you ask, fully standing up and meeting him at the cash register

“well, I was hoping to get a mocha.” 

“I thought you hate mochas.” jeno stares at you and you stare back, unwilling to move until he says something first

jeno reaches out over the cash register, his strong but gentle fingers grazing over your forehead to fix some hair that was out of place due to your movements during restocking

you subconsciously lean into his touch, and jeno brings his hand down into yours, pulling you away from the cash register and sitting down in a chair at the counter

his hands hold yours over the counter, and the fact that you haven’t pulled away gives him hope that he’s not too late

“I grew to love them because of you. I've been craving them for the past month,” he laughs sourly, “but no one makes them the way you do.”

your heart trembles at his words, and it takes everything in you to not forgive him in an instant

“I'll make you one.” you say, untangling your hands from his and moving to the espresso machine 

jeno watches as you make his new favorite drink, and then place it before him as you sit down in a chair next to him

“I’m sorry.” is the first thing he says after you face him once again, “you were right. I was trying to fit into the mold of what the people around me wanted. the only time I could actually be myself is when I'm around you.” 

“I'm sorry, too. this isn’t all your fault, I shouldn’t have lied to you.” jeno scoots closer, tiredness tying you together and the moonlight from outside allowing you to enjoy the company of each other

“my calculus grade is low again. I might need your big brain to help me.”

“okay, but I'll need payment this time.”

“how much?”

“one kiss.”

“one kiss for every correct problem on the final exam?”

“deal.”

jeno smiles softly, his eyes scrunching as smile lines crease his face like tangled bedsheets in the early morning

he leans in, and you kiss with only the moonlight as a witness

jeno loves the way your mouth tastes like the bitter espresso that keeps him awake, but your lips are as sweet as the mocha that he has grown to love

[dwaynepride]

slippin’ through the cracks

summary: after a fight, reader drives off into a thunderstorm.

words: 2,526

warnings: a car accident

tags: @6adb0y​ @thegoodlonelydalek​ @consultingdoctorwholock @starryrevelations @thebeckyjolene​ @diaryofafan17​ @specialagentlokitty​ @pageofultron​ @stanathanxoox​

If you were being honest with yourself, this argument has been a long time coming.

You couldn’t have ignored the growing tension between you and Dwayne even if you wanted to. The quiet moments - something that was once so peaceful - is almost a deafening silence. It’s a tension that’s akin to holding your breath to see how long you can go without air. Or watching a rubber band pulled taut, knowing sooner or later, it’ll snap and hurt someone. 

Yours and Dwayne’s rubber band - it snapped tonight. 

“You promised we’d be able to have the weekend together.”

To his benefit, Dwayne does look guilty when you bring up his promise. His eyes avert away, back down to organize the case files sorted on his kitchen table. “I know, honey. And I’m real sorry. I feel awful, but somebody from the team’s gotta drive up to Baton Rouge. And I’m the only one with enough clearance.”

Logically, you know it’s a good excuse. But when did emotions ever listen to logic? “Why can’t Hannah go?” You ask him.

“She and Naomi’s got a thing this weekend.” Dwayne’s eyes glance up for a brief second. “You know that.”

Yeah, you did know that. She’s been so excited and talking about it enough for you to remember. But even then, you can’t help that betraying stab of jealousy right in the center of your chest. Maybe it makes you a bad person, but it’s not fair to always be the one sacrificing time with Dwayne. 

Especially when he promised it.

And what’s worse, this isn’t a rare occurrence. Missed dinners, shortened dates, waking up to an empty bed. All made bitter by the fact that Dwayne had promised to make time for this relationship.

“Well, isn’t that convenient,” you mumble. Low and flat as you turn away from him. Making for the front door to leave and take a special sort of pleasure in slamming the door shut on the way out. 

But the sound of his hurried footsteps follow you instantly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dwayne asks sternly.

And you take this opportunity to whirl around and face him head on. Meet his hardened eyes because now the hurt is fueling a hot anger in your gut. And you really wanna take it out of something. “It means that you always seem to find some excuse to skip out on spending any actual time with me. I keep trying and it feels like you don’t even care.”

Yeah, maybe that was a cheap shot. Hitting him low and saying something you know would knock him back on his heels. And from the way Dwayne’s face pulls into a hard frown and his spine straightens, you can tell you hit a nerve. Maybe reminding him of the harder times in his failed marriage. “That’s not true, and you know it,” Dwayne replies. His voice is hard, but steady somehow. Only barely. “I do care-”

“Well, you haven’t been showing it. Just once, I want you to put /me before anything else. Especially work.”

Now, you can tell Dwayne is getting mad. He steps closer, shoulders squared, his eyes locked on yours but you don’t waver away. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but things have been pretty hectic lately. I’m /trying to make everybody happy, and if I’m bein’ honest, you’re not making it much easier,” he says.

“You’re not listening to me, Dwayne.”

“And you don’t get how much stress I’ve been under.”

“Maybe I would if you’d actually talk to me!” Finally, your voice rises up to a yell. “Nowdays, it’s like you barely want to talk about anything other than work. How do you think that makes me feel?”

And finally, he has no response. You’d like to think that maybe he knew you were right - maybe he’s noticed the drift, as well. He just didn’t want to admit that because it would mean he’s been failing as a romantic partner - again.

So, shaking your head, you turn away from Dwayne and start walking back toward the door. And this time, Dwayne says nothing to stop you. Makes no move to put himself between you and the door in some desperate need to keep you from being angry with him. That did hurt, though. Maybe more than the yelling. He never likes to end things badly after an argument.

Now, it just feels like he’s given up.

Even before you get outside, you hear the harsh roar of a thunderstorm. Out on the street, it’s louder and the rain instantly soaks through your clothes and hair. But you don’t pay the rain any attention. Right now, you barely feel it against your skin and maybe you can pretend you’re not crying as hard as you are.

Once inside your car, the roar of the rain muffles some. Enough so it’s too damn hard to keep the fight from replaying in your head. And somehow, you resist the temptation to tilt your head and look up to Dwayne’s apartment. Would you find him by the window, watching you get soaked in the rain and drive away? You tell yourself that you don’t care if he is.

The bar eventually disappears out of your rearview mirror. Soon enough, so does the city.

The rain continues beating down against your windshield, unrelentlng in its force and you try your best to focus on driving on the dark road. But your eyes are still clouded in tears, and it’s hard to pull your thoughts away from the fight with Dwayne. 

Anger was still there, rest assured. As well as the hurt, and it did hurt a whole hell of a lot - Dwayne was usually so good at knowing what the problem was. Understanding you and listening to you. Going out of his way to find out the problem so he can come up with a solution. 

But lately, it’s like he doesn’t even care. Or at least, can’t find the time.

Being so lost in your own angry thoughts, it’s only the sound of a car horn that really brings all your focus back to the present. It was loud as hell, even over the rain. Coupled with a pair of headlights that instantly blind you and turns the world into a bright, harsh white. 

As a federal agent, it's easy to pride yourself on having quick reflexes and good reactions. It’s something drilled into you during training - dealing with high-pressure situations in a fraction of a second. But now, it’s like all that training and experience flew out the window into the harsh thunderstorm. Panic gripped you tight; such a fierce hold that you carelessly yank the wheel around to avoid hitting the oncoming vehicle. 

But the rain’s made the street slick - the tires simply slide over the black pavement with little care that you’re slamming on the brakes. 

There’s a loud screech of tires before your car flies off the road. The impact tosses you forward against the steering wheel, and that’s really all you remember. The rest is just darkness and faint sounds and the knowledge that your head is pounding even if the pain hasn’t fully set in yet.

And there were little gaps of clarity - a stranger coming up to see if you were okay, the flashing lights of an ambulance, somebody asking over and over for your name or if you knew where you were. Answers didn’t come easy because everything was fuzzy and cloudy and the sound of the car horn still somehow echoed around in your skull. 

But apart from it all, there was one constant thought - you were afraid, and you wanted Dwayne there.

-

Your eyes don’t work right whenever you’re fully conscious again.

The walls, the sheets, the floor - it was all white. You could catch sounds and voices of a hustle and bustle; can understand that you’re in a hospital room without needing to see the finer details. Even then, you force your arms to move so you can rub the sleep out of your eyes.

They weigh as much as boulders. And sore, just like every other muscle in your body. But the pain is so much worse when you breathe, and the bright lights aren’t doing your headache any favors.

Your brain isn’t even running at full capacity before that familiar sense of primal fear starts to rise up in your chest, nearly knocking the rest of the wind from your lungs.

It’s a struggle to remember why the fear is there. You remember driving in the rain. It was dark as hell and you weren’t really focused on the road and suddenly there was another pair of headlights, like they came out of nowhere...

Your eyes fall shut to try and push away the memory. Everything hurts a little too much to think about it, right now. And even trying to put you on edge - when a nurse opens the door, it makes you jump nearly out of your skin.

“Oh! Sorry, honey,” she says lightly. “I was just about to check on you. How’re you feelin’?”

With the ache in your ribs, it takes a moment to breathe and calm yourself down before trying to shrug. “Sore,” you answer her slowly. “What happened?”

Her eyebrows knit together, looking sympathetic in the doorway. “Nasty car accident. You weren’t seriously hurt, thank the Lord. Worst you got is a couple cracked ribs. But I got your emergency contact here - he can tell you more about-”

“My what?”

A soft smile appears on her face, and she moves to push the door open a little wider. And from over her shoulder, Dwayne’s face appears suddenly. His eyes are wide, eyebrows pulled together in that worried-sick look that always twists your gut up tight. And for just a few seconds, he stands there. Watches you in relief before turning to the nurse. “Thanks for all your help,” he says, tone polite but it’s obvious in the way he quickly moves past her that he’s eager to get to you.

Once Dwayne is inside, the nurse closes the door. And you’re alone with him.

You were so angry with him before. Could barely even be in the same room with Dwayne - that’s why you left the way you did. Part of you wonders if you should still be mad at him because the fight is still very fresh in your mind, as much as it’s pounding. 

But seeing Dwayne - having him in the same space as you - instantly makes you feel so much less afraid. Less confused and alone. Still, your eyes fall away as he nears.

Dwayne is slow in his movements. Careful, even - as if moving too fast might hurt you somehow. But you can feel his eyes on you, as tangible as the hospital sheets. “Are you okay?” He asks you, voice soft and careful.

“I’m fine,” you tell him. And that’s probably a dumb thing to say, right now. You obviously aren’t fine and Dwayne knows that. Maybe if this were any other time, he’d scold you about downplaying your injuries; as if he never does that exact same. And you’re glad he’s not, because honestly, you don’t want another argument. Not right now. He must feel the same way. 

He takes a tiny step closer. “I, uh- they called me a couple hours ago. Told me you got in a bad wreck, and I came straight here. I was real worried-”

“You’ve been here for hours?” Your head instantly comes up to face him. Dwayne blinks at the sudden eye contact, as if it startled him. 

But his gaze is still so soft and worried. So different from before. “‘Course. You got hurt. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” And he says that like it’s the most simple thing in the world.

You try to sigh, but it pulls on your ribs and you just end up wincing hard. And even without seeing him, you can tell Dwayne is on edge, seeing you in so much pain. But you bite out your next words anyway. “I’m sorry,” you croak out.

“Sorry?” He repeats.

“That they called you all the way down here.”

Dwayne is silent. And you can only just barely take the quiet before it becomes too much and you’re finally letting your eyes rise back up to him. Dwayne has his eyebrows furrowed together, as if you’ve suddenly started speaking another language. But then he shakes his head fervently. “Listen to me: I’m glad they called me. If you got hurt - or worse - then I wanna know about it. So I can be here for you.”

He sees how doubtful you look. Like you don’t truly believe his words. It stirs Dwayne on to continue. “Listen, sweetheart, I know the fight was bad. I know you’re probably still pissed at me, and you got every right. I’ve been a real asshole, but right now, I don’t care about any of that. I came because I was scared to death and I needed to see you.”

His words are honest - you know they are. Because you know Dwayne too damn well and you know something stupid like a fight wouldn’t have been enough to keep him away. 

Knowing this, your eyes still find it hard to meet his. “I guess I just thought you wouldn’t want to see me,” you confess. 

You hear Dwayne scoff a little. And it comes as no surprise when his hand is on your cheek, gently tilting your head over and up to look at him. Now, he’s leaning in so close, you see the green in his eyes. A warm green that you didn’t even know you missed, until now. “If we’re bein’ honest here? I was scared of the same thing.” You blink in surprise, and he nods once. “Thought for sure you’d chase me right out the hospital.”

He says it like a joke, but you shake your head fervently at him. And out of nowhere, tears start building up in your eyes. The sight of them makes Dwayne frown. “No, I’m glad you’re here,” you say, voice choked back but it’s still music to his ears.

The words are barely out before you’re actually crying. Dwayne starts to wipe the tears away as gently as he could, and his words are much harder than his hands. “I’ll always come when you need me, baby. No matter how many times you storm outta my place.” Suddenly, he leans in to press a long kiss against your forehead. His breath is warm against your skin - a stark contrast from the rain. “I love you, understand? And I promise, things’ll change. No more puttin’ you on the back burner. I’m sorry - about everything.”

Words are hard to come by, so you simply nod. And Dwayne comes closer until you’re able to lean your head against his chest. He’s warm and solid and his heartbeat is slow. Helps calm down your frayed nerves and serves as an anchor. And as Dwayne’s fingers start to run through your hair, you’ve never been so happy to forgive him.