#why is he trying to put me into cardiac arrest

[chvoswxtch]

☾ romcom- headcannons (request a director’s cut to make it spicy)

i am in desperate need of some slutty thoughts about matt crawling through your window late at night (aka the dream)

you didn't ask for it but the wardrobe department has decided to put matthew in the black suit of sin for this scene for reasons

andddddd ACTION!

as a reminder, director's cut means it's spicy ! (minors dni)

headcannon below the cut

late night with the devil starring matt murdock

matt can't tell if it's an unusually slow night in hell's kitchen, or if he just can't seem to focus on blind justice tonight bc your sent is still all over him from having you tangled up in his sheets last night

he'd worn the very tie this morning he'd used to blindfold you with last night (let your imagination run wild with that one) which was a mistake on his part bc it meant your scent was right under his nose all day long

the longer he's perched on the roof like a fucking gargoyle, trying and failing to concentrate on the sounds of the city, he gets more and more restless, and eventually his desires win out over his self imposed duty

the window to the fire escape by your living room was always left unlocked for him so he could pay you a visit anytime he wanted while he was out on patrol. he could hear your even breathing, steady heartbeat, and the sound of pages being turned, which indicated that you were awake to his delight and excitement

matt lifted the window and slipped inside without making a sound, closing it just as quietly, his booted footsteps mute against the worn wooden floor

you hated it when he snuck around like a ninja and scared the shit out of you, threatening to haunt him if he ever sent you into cardiac arrest, but matt was a little shit and loved making you jump and scream. he especially liked making you scream ;)

he stalks towards you like a predator, and then without warning, he yanked the book out of your hands. before you even had a chance to react, he pounced on top of you, making you squeal loud enough to wake your neighbors

"matthew michael murdock! you fucking-"

a rumble of amused laugher sounded deep from within matt's chest, and he grinned as he bent down to capture your lips, cutting off your string of irritated curses. he nuzzled his nose against your neck, purposefully using his sexy daredevil voice bc he knows what it does to you

"well, hello to you too, sweetheart."

your anger swiftly evaporates bc how can it not when matt has you trapped beneath him, your wrists pinned above your head, those sinful lips teasingly brushing against that spot on your neck that drives you wild and that sultry voice in your ear

"you're a goddamn menace."

matt lets out another hearty chuckle, and you can feel the vibrating rumble against your own chest, and his callused hand stroking your bare thigh before squeezing the soft pliant flesh eagerly

"so i've been told."

a shaky breath left your parted lips feeling the coarseness of his facial hair brush against your neck, the ghost of his breath making your skin prickle, and the warm weight of his hips between your thighs

"sorry for scaring you, honey. let me make it up to you."

matt was already kissing his way down your chest and pushing the hem of your nightgown upwards

"I want a sincere apology, murdock."

matt grinned against your skin as he lifted the nightgown up to your hips, dragging his tongue slowly along your lower stomach, making your back arch slightly and a shudder run through you to his delight

"of course, angel. why don't I get on my knees and beg, hm?"

it amazed you how he could move so quickly while being such a tease. he kept his touches featherlight and barely granted your needy skin any contact from his lips, and your brain barely registered the feeling of your panties being slipped down your thighs, but you did feel matt's hands gripping your hips and dragging you towards the edge of the bed

you don't know who moaned louder after that first swipe of his eager tongue through your soaked cunt, you or matt

he didn't hesitate, diving right in with his greedy mouth. he captured your hands and intertwined your fingers, holding your hands tightly against your hips, groaning as he allowed you to rock your hips against his face as he devoured you

the burn of his facial hair rubbing your inner thighs raw was a problem for tomorrow bc all you could focus on was the way he alternated between teasingly tracing the tip of his tongue around your sensitive clit and then flicking his tongue over it repeatedly

he moaned when he wrapped his lips around your clit and began to suckle, and both the sensation and the vibration had your thighs trembling, making you squeeze his hands so tightly the skin went taut over your knuckles

even when he made you come, hard, he wasn't done. while you were lost in the buzzing blissful haze of an orgasm that made you feel boneless, matt had stripped down completely and rejoined you on the bed, flipping you over onto your stomach and pulling you up onto your knees

his firm warm chest was pressed against your back as he leaned over you and gruffly whispered in your ear

"now it's your turn to beg."

the urge to write 137 pages of this akjsdhlksjklf

[sirjacobthomaskiszka]

I HAVE NEVER WANTED TO FIGHT HIM MORE

[astonmartinii]

knives out | lewis hamilton social media au

pairing: lewis hamilton x rosberg!reader

2016 saw the murder of brocedes right before our very eyes, but who got y/n in the will?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

- part of the brother's best friend series -

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 751,209 others

tagged: nicorosberg

yourusername: back in barcelona! nothing has ever happened here, right? RIGHT?

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user1: when i'm in a victim of brocedes contest and y/n rosberg turns up

user2: nico was like "oh, lewis has had a good qualifying... here comes the curse"

user3: he's the hater we should all aspire to be

nicorosberg: barcelona is a beautiful place but you should pick your company well!

yourusername: great advice nico, i should've left you at home

nicorosberg: snore! i'm great company you just can't keep up with my great personality and wit

yourusername: what ever you need to tell yourself old man

nicorosberg: i'm two years older than you?

yourusername: how was the industrial revolution?

user4: i hope they never grow up and always argue in public

user5: omg the argument on sky about lewis v seb in canada... and jenson just stood there with the biggest shit-eating grin ever

lewishamilton: my trauma is not your joke

yourusername: it was my trauma too i was the one who had to listen to him complain for the next TWO WEEKS

lewishamilton: trying to find where i care...

yourusername: you complained first ??

lewishamilton: rightly so!

yourusername: do not tussle with me about this, by now i thought you'd know that us rosbergs don't play about complaining

lewishamilton: believe me my therapist knows that

user6: i know nico sat on his hands forcing himself not to comment back

user7: alternatively, celebrating that he still lives in lewis' head

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc and 2,305,899 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: @yourusername i may love you but if that man ever takes a picture of my car i'm putting a hit on his head

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user11: we got a relationship reveal and a death threat all in one post

user12: lewis saw yall ready to make a brocedes edit using this race and made sure you knew that he doesn't care about a his old haunts

user13: he was like yall shipping me with the wrong rosberg

yourusername: let's refrain from threats for now

lewishamilton: we're gonna have to get rid of that last name, no more curses

nicorosberg: RIGHT THAT IS IT IF YOU DARE GET MARRIED DOUBLE-BARRELLED OR ELSE, ROSBERGS ARE ELITE AND YOU WISH YOU HAD THIS NAME

yourusername: he does have a point

lewishamilton: i'm for real going to lose my mind that we haven't spoken in years and this is where he drew the line

nicorosberg: you told the world you're dating my sister at the same time as me

lewishamilton: stop cursing me then 🤨

nicorosberg: i don't curse you my devilish good looks just sent your engine into cardiac arrest

user14: i know toto wolff just fell to his knees in the mercedes garage seeing them bicker in instagram comments after making merc a literal warzone for years

user15: and yet this is the most brocedes way to go about it

georgerussell63: even if you're dating his sister, i'm still your favourite teammate right?

yourusername: valterri exists buddy soz

georgerussell63: *clutches my pearls*

lewishamilton: and that is exactly why valterri is my favourite teammate

georgerussell63: whatever 💁🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc: not for long xx

yourusername: whoever can bring me the best coffee can get the crown?

lewishamilton: stop exploiting my teammate and future teammate

yourusername: that's what they're there for?

yourusername

liked by nicorosberg, maxverstappen1 and 823,087 others

tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername: anything happen this week?

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user19: y/n ruining her brother's week - anything happen this week?

user20: more like year

nicorosberg: more like life

yourusername: drama queen

nicorosberg: as i should be !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

yourusername: got enough exclamation marks in there buddy

nicorosberg: no open the door i need to scream directly in your ears

yourusername: if it's any consolation, the relationship started after 2016

nicorosberg: so he got me out of the way so he could go for my little sister 🤨

lewishamilton: yep!

nicorosberg: no i'm serious let me in i need to yell

nicorosberg: I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE I CAN HEAR ROSCOE

nicorosberg: fine i'll just abseil from my apartment give me a sec

user21: y/n please let him in he's so serious about that i can feel it

user22: anyone from monaco here and want to keep us updated?

danielricciardo: Y/N LET HIM IN HE NEARLY KICKED MY POTTED PLANT OFF THE BALCONY

yourusername: lol

danielricciardo: THIS IS NOT A LAUGHING MATTER PLEASE

lewishamilton: fine, you people are such bores

nicorosberg: i nearly lost a birkenstock

yourusername: and my inheritance nearly doubled

lewishamilton: *our

user23: i think lewis is having way too much fun with this

nicorosberg

liked by lewishamilton, jensonbutton and 692,889 others

tagged: yourusername

nicorosberg: we're back at the track and i've got a sneaking feeling that the red bull might be fast around here

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user24: nico said babe won't catch me posting lewis on my instagram

maxverstappen1: sure thing buddy he's dating your sister, but there's NO NEED TO TAKE IT OUT ON ME

nicorosberg: i said you're going to win?

maxverstappen1: i DON'T NEED YOUR BAD JUJU GIVE IT TO LEWIS HE'S THE ONE YOU'RE ANGRY AT NOT ME

nicorosberg: i'm not angry at lewis

lewishamilton: really?

nicorosberg: OF COURSE NOT

yourusername: he'll get over it soon lewis don't worry

lewishamilton: really? he's still holding a grudge from 2016 - that was EIGHT YEARS AGO

yourusername: yeah sorry that's a rosberg trait ❤️

user25: not the grid becoming victims of the brocedes fall out eight years later

yourusername: you're so shady why did you crop lewis out?

nicorosberg: outfit wasn't on par with the rosbergs

yourusername: oh no

lewishamilton: HOW DARE YOU

yourusername: you queens can take this out on each other i'm not getting involved in this one

lewishamilton: i know this birkenstock wearing primadonna is not dissing my custom mcqueen

nicorosberg: it's custom because no one would want something so ugly 🫶🏻

user26: someone take nico off the parc ferme interviews lewis might just run him over

user27: he should just let roscoe at his ankles

nicorosberg: that vegan dog can't do shit to me

yourusername: leave the kids out of it nico

nicorosberg: you birthed that? my condolences to your reproductive system

lewishamilton: DO NOT FAT SHAME MY SON

roscoelovescoco: kill yourself @nicorosberg

user28: WTF IS GOING ON

lewishamilton

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tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: he may have won the battle, but i won the war

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user29: bro you're going to be subjected to boho chic Christmases for the rest of your life

user30: guy is going to get poisoned via christmas nut roast by nico 😭

yourusername: this is corny but i love you

lewishamilton: i love you too i'm going to pretend you didn't just call my super thought out caption corny

yourusername: it was corny and that's what i love about you

nicorosberg: you need better standards

yourusername: for someone who had so much homoerotic tension with the man that you retired you're being very rude about the subject of such tension

nicorosberg: that's not how that went

yourusername: sure, jan

nicorosberg: stop trying to rewrite history

yourusername: i saw it with my own two eyes... are you jealous that i ended up with lewis instead of you?

nicorosberg: nO

user31: i feel like this is definitely not the argument i thought i would see on the internet today

user32: lewis hamilton got passed around the rosberg house ... this your goat?

user33: both rosbergs are hawt as hell so yes!

charles_leclerc: oh great, keep stoking the flames lewis! if you invoke his wrath upon ferrari next season i will personally sacrifice you to the gods

lewishamilton: excuse me?

charles_leclerc: i don't know if you know this but i kinda don't have a world championship yet ... I DO NOT WANT THE ROSBERG CURSE ATTACHED TO ME

lewishamilton: do not minimise my trauma charles

charles_leclerc: you haven't joined ferrari yet, you don't know trauma. be nice to him, i can't finish my career with max having more championships than me

maxverstappen1: skill issue

user34: do these people ever stop arguing?

yourusername: no! and i can assure you it's worse in person

user35: worst brocedes tussle since nico found out?

yourusername: i was making a list of people to invite to my birthday dinner and nico was angry that i wrote lewis' name before his

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 1,304,277 others

tagged: lewishamilton, nicorosberg

yourusername: still a victim of the brocedes nuclear fallout all these years later

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user37: bro nearly lost her bf to her brother

user38: lewis couldn't have nico and went for his sister instead

user39: insert larry stylinson theory here that y/n is just the beard and toto wolff is simon cowell

yourusername: i'm blocking all of you

nicorosberg: still yapping about this ... and i'm the dramatic one

yourusername: babe we can all see all of your comments on previous posts where you're the literal definition of crashing out

nicorosberg: BARCELONA WAS LEWIS' FAULT WE ALL KNOW THIS

yourusername: when did i bring up barcelona... you just proved my point IDIOT

nicorosberg: make me sound insane all you want ... TOTO IS THE REAL VILLAIN HERE

yourusername: ???

nicorosberg: he notebooked us

yourusername: riiiiiiiiiiight

nicorosberg: i wrote lewis a letter when i retired and toto never gave it to him

yourusername: you're telling me i had to hide my relationship for so long because you trusted that austrian big foot fraud to be your messenger pigeon ?

user40: did we just get insane brocedes lore on a random tuesday?

user41: you're telling me it was toto's fault the whole time?

lewishamilton: well yes it would've been helpful to have gotten the letter, you have to admit the sneeking around was hot

yourusername: you're right 🤭🤭🤭

lewishamilton: hiding in your bathroom while nico came over to bitch about me was a personal highlight

nicorosberg: excuse me?

lewishamilton: i know we're trying to be better, so here's a compliment: you're very creative when being mean about me

nicorosberg: why thank you 😝

yourusername: nuh uh we ain't doing this shit

lewishamilton: don't worry y/n you'll always be my favourite

nicorosberg: but you'll never have our trip to greece :P

yourusername: i will strangle you britney

user42: y/n got brocedes to talk again, but at what cost?

lewishamilton

liked by nicorosberg, charles_leclerc and 4,677,309 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: got y/n's hand in marriage in the will (after i murdered her brother's career)

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user43: y/n can't escape brocedes even on her engagement post

user44: she (and them) will never get rid of it

yourusername: i love you baby, here's to the rest of our life (even if that includes you arguing with my brother for the rest of time)

lewishamilton: i love you even more, i'd go through all of that psychological warfare again and again if it means i still end up with you

yourusername: we've always had an invisible string

lewishamilton: and there's no one else i'd want to be cosmically tied to <3

user45: i might cry they're so cute

user46: that comment thread called me single in about 100 different languages

charles_leclerc: congratulations you two! also congratulations to me - no more rosberg curse!

yourusername: really? on this POST?

charles_leclerc: hold on girlypop, it was mr hamilton-rosberg that brought up your brother first not me

lewishamilton: you better get all this attitude out now charles

charles_leclerc: what? you gonna marry my brother?

yourusername: lol i'm not threatened by them

arthurleclerc: why am i being shaded?

user47: 2025 HURRY THE FUCK UP

nicorosberg: i guess you're finally getting the rosberg name you've always wanted ...

lewishamilton: yes... i have always had a crush on your sister

nicorosberg: GASP! PERVERT 🫵🏻 i have known you since we were 12 you GROSS MAN

lewishamilton: WELL YES I WAS ALSO 12 I'VE NOT ALWAYS BEEN 36 MORON

yourusername: well doesn't this just get me excited for christmas

user48: i know a monopoly board hate to see these three coming

yourusername: @nicorosberg can i have an actual congratulations???

nicorosberg: i'm happy for you, i'm glad you're happy (also he's loaded so slay)

yourusername: i'll take it!

lewishamilton: sure whatever thanks nico !

fin.

note: lol finally finished this one! i have been very in and out on here, i have a lot going on x

[lightseoul]

a/n. wrote this immediately after i killed a cockroach for my older brother of 10 years. needless to say, his screaming emboldened me to be the braver person. this led me straight to domestic moments with bkg. (0.7k)

“how the fuck did that get in here?”

he says it so incredulously that you can’t help it—you snort. bakugou’s glare instantly shifts to you—unwavering—from where it was laser-focused a second ago.

right at the massive ass cockroach on his kitchen wall.

his eyebrows furrow even further at you. “are you fucking laughing?”

“no—sorry—” you start, although you cut yourself off with another giggle. he’s trying to keep glaring at you, but a smile threatens to tug at the corners of his lips.

“sorry, what?” he goads, and you shake your head, grinning.

“it’s just…” you gesture to the two of you as if that’s enough of an explanation in itself.

you’re barefoot—standing near the microwave, above and slightly to the left of which the pest is currently located—with one of bakugou’s house slippers on hand. the other one is wielded by the owner himself, although he’s standing a few feet away from you, seemingly in shock.

“don’t—” he spits out hurriedly, “—just keep your fucking eyes trained on it, dumbass.”

“right. sorry.”

you look back at the object of bakugou’s disgust, and it’s flapping its wings now as if it’s readying itself for flight.

the pro-hero must’ve noticed, too, because you see him stiffen through your peripheral vision.

“quick,” he croaks, “kill it.”

you whip to look at him, shocked. “me? you’re closer to it, you do it.”

“just—”

whatever rebuttal bakugou was planning to spew out doesn’t get to see the light of day because just as you predicted it would, the fucking cockroach takes off and flies.

straight into bakugou.

your hulking, #4 pro-hero of a boyfriend stumbles back and screams, barely dodging the pest just as it brushes against a strand of his freshly washed ash-blonde hair. before you know it, bakugou falls on his ass, and the cockroach lands on top of his pristine kitchen counter.

your body acts before your brain can catch up.

you dive, and you slam his perfectly good footwear onto the bug. you smack it again for good measure, before flipping the slipper upside down only to see the gross remains of the vile critter that almost sent the man into a cardiac arrest.

speaking of.

you hold up the object for bakugou—who’s still sitting flat on his butt, wide eyes trained on you—as evidence. you shoot him a placating look, “see? good as dead.”

bakugou studies it for a moment—as if he’s waiting for it to resurrect and jump on him—before he finally decides that it’s a goner. he sighs, bringing himself back on his bare feet.

“thanks,” he mutters, “…babe.”

“no problem,” you offer, “though, i don’t see what the big deal was, kats.”

at that, the bashful look of gratitude that was just etched on his face is immediately replaced by flat-out embarrassment.

“did you see how fucking big that thing was?”

“yeah…?”

“there was no way that was festering inside my home.”

you tamp on the grin that’s fighting to take over your mouth. “that why you basically collapsed in fear?”

“i didn't—” he splutters, before thinking it’s apparently better to change the topic altogether. “why did you have to use my slipper, huh?”

“i left mine in the living room,” you pout. “you shouted my name and i ran here before i could put them on.”

bakugou stares at you for a beat, like he’s trying to come up with a smartass retort, before shaking his head in what you think is resignation.

“yeah, well, thanks again.”

you watch the pro-hero as he takes the decorated slipper from you with obvious repulsion, heading back towards the living room.

“where are you going?” you call out.

he stops, turning to look at you. “the rooftop. i’ll blast this shit to hell.”

bakugou, in fact, does send his poor slippers to hell that night.

but not before calling the exterminator.

because that shit needed to be taken care of—if he wanted you to accept when he finally invites you to move in with him.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra

[faerygrant]

knee socks - carmen berzatto x waitress reader

summary: four discoveries come about your and carmens secret relationship; he’s very into knee socks, you’re acquainted with a staff member he has a tricky relationship with, he can be possessive and weirdly enough he likes being called daddy?

You’d stayed back last night to help Carmen, despite the raging headache that had caused you to have to take a 30 minute break from waiting tables just to rest your head. Carmen appreciated that, and was not shy in showing you. Once he’d insured everyone had gone home for the night, doors locked and safety measures taken care of, he had come into the office and kissed you softly, before walking you to your apartment. Where things had escalated, resulting in you falling asleep stuffed and sated and Carmy going home with a pair of your panties.

Today however you felt refreshed, you’d woken up at the crack of dawn, showered, threw on your uniform and decided you’d wear a pair of knee socks due to the cold fall weather. You arrived to the usual chaos of The bear, Tina and Sydney getting started on prep, Marcus unloading the batter he’d made the night before and Richie barking orders at your fellow waitstaff about today’s schedule. Carmy however wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so you assumed he was in his office going over stock orders or doing payroll.

“Hey, you look pretty good this morning princess” Rich or Richie to everyone else, whispers into your ears.

“Don’t be gross Rich.” You mumble, grabbing your apron and tying it around your waist as he mockingly smiled back at you.

“Damn can’t even give out compliments anymore.” He throws his hands up in mock self defence.

Your and Richie’s relationship was simple, he was a longtime friend of your brothers and had always been mockingly flirty and playful with you, occasionally you’d reciprocate the flirtyness but it was all in good fun. Carmy however hated it, so much so that he’d ensure he did his best to put a distance between you two most of the time.

As the day went on Carmen would make subtle appearances from the office, coming into the kitchen to help Sydney with recipes she was working on, answering some of Tina’s questions, giving Marcus the green-light on some new dessert ideas, the works. But what you noticed from these appearances were the glances he kept making towards you, or specifically towards your legs. Until it finally hit you, it was the knee socks.

-

Carmen couldn’t think straight with the way you were just casually waiting tables while looking like a goddess. Your uniform clung so nicely to your body, your smile ever so bright and those god damned knee socks. He was convinced you were trying to send him into cardiac arrest. He’d never even known he had a thing for those until today and he wasn’t about to let them go to waste.

carmen 🐻

You busy right now?

you

Kinda, why?

carmen 🐻

Need your help in the office, now.

you

Alright, coming

-

"Hi" you smiled shyly, walking up to his desk and taking a seat on one of the chairs opposite his desk.

"Come 'ere " he says lowly, beckoning you forward with two fingers. You slowly get out of the chair and make your way behind the desk to his side.

"Hi, again" you say as you look down at him, with a sweet smile on your face.

"Hey, feelin' any better, since last night?" He questions as he turns his chair to face you and pulls you in between his legs, his hands holding your hips in place.

"Y-yeah a little, thank you by the way" you reply softly, flustered by the touch he was so lovingly giving you.

"Your welcome, just wanted to make sure you were alright, it was so worth it" he smiled as his hands began to roam, up and down your hips.

"Wh- why was it worth it?" You reply, voice barely above a whisper, as you look down at him though your lashes.

"I got to kiss you, touch you, and keep your panties" he smirked at the last part, knowing it was going to annoy you.

"Thanks for reminding me to kick you for that by the way." You playfully swat his shoulder and he fakes a pout. You began laughing at him.

"What?" He asks, curiously.

"Nothing" you smile as you lift your hands to play with his hair.

"No tell me" he insists, as he squeezes your hips and pulls you down, to straddle him.

"Mmm, it's just I didn't expect you to be such a softie" you smile as you move down on him a little harder, to feel his crotch.

"Of fuck- I" he tries talking but the feeling of you pressed down against him is too much.

"Fuck-“ he says your name “you're gonna kill me" he replies as he pushes his hips against you and you feel his hard on.

“These knee socks have been killing me all day, did you wear em just f’me?” He grunts the last part.

“I did, wanted to impress you.” You smile, wiggling into him.

“It worked, I’m fuckin impressed and so hard f’you.” He smiles into a kiss he plants on your lips.

"I want you now, please daddy" you weren't sure where the 'daddy' came from, but honestly you didn’t care at this point, you needed him. His eyes widen and you're pretty sure you feel him get even harder once the word leaves your mouth.

"I'm your daddy?" He questions you with a smirk on his face.

"Ye-yeah, daddy" you whispered as you continue to grind down on him.

"That's right, I'm your daddy, keep grinding on your daddy till you cum" he groans, face all red.

"Mmmm" you whisper against his neck as you continue. Just as you feel him moving to reposition you, the phone in his office begins to ring. You look up at him and he shakes his head.

"Leave it, keep goin" he groans as he pulls you down, once more. You're so close to your climax when the phone rings again.

"Mmm, just answer it" you groan as you attempt to get off him, he however pulls you back down and answers the phone.

"What?"

"Ok, and?"

"Fine"

"I'll send her in"

He slams the phone back down and kisses you hungrily once more. You oblige and bring your hands up to his hair.

"Who was it?" You ask, pulling back from the kiss.

"Dumbass Richie, he wants to see you, claims one the regulars is here and only you can help him service them" he spits, you can tell he’s annoyed by Richie’s interruption.

"Rich’s always been quite the mood stealer" you smile, as he kisses your neck lightly.

"Rich?" He questions as he pulls back from your neck and looks up at you.

"Yeah, Rich?" You reply confused, had you said the wrong thing?

"Why the fuck, do you call him that?" He asks angrily, as he lets go of your waist. Alright so Carmy’s moods did always change quickly, noted.

"He's a family friend, I've known him since I was like 18 he's like a brother to me, at-least that's how I feel about him." You reply, whilst putting his hands back on your waist.

"Alright then, Good" he says refusing to smile.

"Why the long face, hmmm?" You question as you smile at him.

"I don't want anyone else to have you, I'm territorial, possessive, I don't know call it what you want but you're mine now and I don't need anyone getting in the way of that" he smirks.

"Mmmm, I just loveeee being owned by men, it's so empowering" you say sarcastically.

"I don't mean it in that way, you know that" says Carmy quickly, afraid you misunderstood him.

"I'm just fucking with you, and this may sound a bit anti-feminist, but I like the thought of belonging to you" you whisper into his ear, leaving him groaning.

"Alright we'll, Rich’s waiting for me, bye Carmy" you say as you try to get off of him. His grip however is too strong and he manages to pull you back down.

"I want to take you out for dinner tomorrow night, somewhere nice but chill ,not too fancy." He says shyly.

"I- I would love too, also not too fancy? this doesn't sound like Michelin star chef Carmen Berzatto" you joke, and he simply smiles at you. He finally let's you out of his grip and you give him a sweet peck, before making your way to the door. Before you can leave the office he calls out to you.

"Wear something pretty ok?"

You turn around and smile at him before replying with poise, "only for daddy"

[blue-jisungs]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ POPCORN KISSES 🧸ྀི — making out with riku <3 ( wc 960 )

[ extras ] suggestive (making out.)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ! i have no comment. i just miss him. SUE me. @slytherinshua plz dont kill me :3

@kstrucknet ♡

riku sighed softly and his sharp, cat-like eyes tracked your moves. you were humming, coming back from kitchen. you put a bowl with popcorn on the coffee table and glanced at your boyfriend, who menacingly laid with his legs on the sofa.

he grinned, tucking one hand behind his head.

“you think you’re sooo funny? covering the whole sofa?” you asked, tilting your head. before you left riku was sitting normally but it seemed he decided to trick you a bit.

before he could answer, you dramatically huffed and played the movie. then, not looking away from his ebony irises, you straddled his lap.

knees on both of his sides and hands resting against his chest. riku’s features dropped, taken aback by your bold move.

“you think you’re sooo funny…” riku mocked you; yet, his voice was barely a whisper. his heart was racing like a formula one car on the track.

you grinned and slowly slid your hands up his torso, the material of his t-shirt soft beneath your fingers.

sure, you kissed and made out before but… this felt different. this time you had the upper hand. riku was trapped beneath you, depending on your mercy.

which, you didn’t have.

riki’s eyes followed your hands, stopping only when he wasn’t able to see them longer. he decided to focus on your necklace that was dangling above his face.

your fingertips danced from his neck up to his cheek, then gently tucking a stray strand of his hair behind his ear. you leaned closer, some of your hair brushing his face.

he reached for your other hand, interlocking fingers with yours before you sent his poor heart into a cardiac arrest. (he also tried to ignore how clammy his hands got).

“do you wanna kiss, ri?” you hummed. and maybe if he wasn’t so whipped, he’d notice the sugary teasing in your voice.

“yes, please” he breathed out and finally broke to look you in the eye.

with a sweet smile you finally close the gap between you two but… not quite how he wanted it. you placed a kiss in the corner of his lips. you heard a faint huff and leaned away slightly, just to land another kiss just below his plush lips.

riku squeezed your hand, an annoyed furrow forming on his brows. you pecked his cupid bow, and then the other corner of his lips. next was his cheek. you trailed gentle kisses along his cheek bone, finally reaching his red ear.

“you’re so cute when you’re shy, ri” you whispered and leaned away to adore his state. flushed face, cheeks adorned with blush.

but before you could fully lean away, riku’s hand that was previously resting under his head, suddenly found itself on the back of your neck.

your eyes widened.

despite riku being a blushing mess, chest rising up and down irregularly, there was a stern determination in his eye.

“is that kissing to you?” he cocked an eyebrow, trying to keep a cool demeanor. but he was out of breath already, frustrated by your soft lips being all over his face – except for where he needed them the most.

“why don’t you show me?” the corner of your lips rose in a challenging offer that your boyfriend would be a fool to turn down.

he leaned closer, pushing you gently towards him – but he met you halfway, rising to rest on his free elbow. your hand that was previously locked with his, escaped and found its new place on his shoulder.

riku hungrily attacked your lips, open mouthed kisses ripping air out of you. you felt like he was pulling you in; closer, and closer. when he was leaning away, you were pulling back in – and the other way around. chasing after each other’s lips, focused on how perfectly they felt against each other. you couldn’t get enough (and him as well, assumed by the neediness in his movements)

your head was spinning - the shy riku was gone. his hand slid to cup your cheek, a little rougher than he intended. small pants escaped your parted lips that riku had no plans of leaving alone.

pulling you even closer, your noses gently bumped into each other. your fingers strayed off to play with the hair on the nape of his neck.

riku leaned away and just smiled triumphantly when you chased after him, kissing his plump lips.

“got the memo, huh?” he hummed softly, vibrations shooting through your body.

not even realizing when, his other hand found its way to your hip, squeezing it gently. your attention was successfully taken away by riku’s tongue dancing with yours, brutally taking the lead. it was hurried, fast-paced with emotion; with urgency. riku truly felt like he could die any moment if his lips weren’t on yours.

and if you didn’t yank his hair gently when you started running out of air, riku would’ve passed out too.

you leaned back, resting on his lap. your boyfriend, however, trailed open mouthed kisses down your jawline to your neck. then, he buried his head against your shoulder blade, hands wrapping around your waist and bringing you even closer (you weren’t sure how it was possible but you didn’t mind the proximity).

you were breathing heavily, fingers coming up to play with his dark locks. you were quite taken aback by this sudden turn yet… yet, you couldn’t say you didn’t enjoy it.

“i think we have to restart the movie” you let out a breathless laugh and riku moved his head to look at the tv. his hair was all over the place, the back of his neck and tips of his ears flaring angry (but adorable) red.

“there was a movie playing?” he asked, eyes wide.

masterlist <3

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @mon2sunjinsuver,, @w3bqrl ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua

[chlix]

treatment resistant

bf! chan x fem! reader: he comforts you during a mental health episode

pairing: chan x reader

genre: ANGST like seriously, turns into comfort at the end tho 🙏🏾

word count: 4.7k

warnings: graphic depictions of depression, anxiety/anxiety attacks, and psychosis (paranoia); self worth issues; general self-loathing

a/n: i wrote this in one sitting about six months ago and deliberated posting it, but it's almost the end of the year so i feel like i should release it. i used to feel so validated by fics where reader is depressed and gets comforted, but she was never as depressed as i sometimes was, so i drew a bit from life for this one. everyone please be safe and read the warnings <3

It doesn't start with the dishes. In fact, you think your therapist might tell you that it's not about the dishes at all, but about your own poor self-image, or lack of emotional regulation, or about a thousand other things that are wrong with the way you perceive yourself and the world.

The truth is that lately you've been sleeping way too late and waking up too early, and you're so tired that you can't eat, which makes you so hungry that you can't take naps. You're between jobs and the outlook hasn't been great, your best friend keeps blowing you off in favor of her new boyfriend, and just this week you found out that your favorite bakery is no longer making the souffles that you've been using as a pick me up since you moved into this building.

You don't do well with change, or rejection, or honestly anything, lately. You wake up stressed and you go to sleep stressed. You keep your phone on Do Not Disturb because you can't bear receiving notifications. Just today you've talked yourself out of taking showers twice, only to have a meltdown when you tried to sit on your bed because you felt too dirty to touch your own sheets. You sit on the floor instead. You eat a singular banana for lunch, just to make your headache go away. Your headache does not go away. You feel both unreal and painfully solid, sinking into the ground and on the verge of floating away.

Your boyfriend, Chan, keeps texting you updates about his day, and answering them feels like an exercise in performance art. You scroll through your previous texts to make sure you're adding the right amount of exclamation points, that you're using the same recent emojis. It's like cosplaying a happier version of yourself. A better version, a version that he could love, as opposed to how you are now: greasy and gross and plastered to the floor in your hallway. The idea of him seeing you like this fills you terror, or at least it would if you hadn't burned out your capacity for feeling things already.

A new message pops up.

Chan: Hey baby ❤️ Was thinking of swinging by tonight after work? I can bring dinner with me

Just the thought of eating threatens to make you vomit. You suck in a breath and hold it as you type,

You: If you want something specific go for it! I already started cooking but we could have it another time

Chan: I don't want to waste all your hard work. We can have what you're making. I'm sure it'll be delicious :)

You: I can promise edible. Delicious is up in the air rn 😭

Chan: I have faith in you even if you don't ❤️. I'll be there around seven today

You: Okay! I love you sm, see you then! ❤️❤️❤️

You lock your phone and throw it across the room. Why do you do this to yourself? "Already started cooking?" You haven't showered today.  Normally you try to deter Chan from coming over when you're having a freakazoid episode, but now you've basically invited him in? You have to be normal for an entire evening?

You fall on your back on the ground and put your hands over your face, blocking out the sunshine that insists on steaming through the cracks in the drapes. Your heart is beating so hard you worry you're going into cardiac arrest.

Get off the fucking ground, y/n, you tell yourself. You have to go cook dinner for your boyfriend.

"There is something very wrong with me," you say out loud, very quietly. The silence of your apartment swallows the words. They vanish, as if never said.

You get up.

It takes you two tries to make something even passing as edible. Your head is all over the place, and you burn batches of oil and veggies before you manage to stay in your body long enough to finish making anything. It takes an embarrassing amount of pans and spoons and bowls to make something that should be simple, and as dishes pile up in the sink you feel stupider and stupider. Why are you acting like you don't know how to cook? It's not hard to make some vegetables in stew. You don't know why it's taking every appliance in your kitchen and all of your concentration to execute such a simple task.

By the time you're done cooking, you've stressed yourself out enough that you're getting a tension headache. You close your eyes and brace yourself against the sink, rallying yourself.

Just do these dishes and then you can sit down, you think. Just one more thing.

You pick up a sponge.

You put the sponge down.

There is no way you can do these dishes.

It doesn't so much hit you like a train as the realization slowly creeps up on you. It's not that many dishes, really. It looks like a lot, because the pots and bowls are so large, but numerically there's very few items in your sink. It wouldn't even take 30 minutes to clean everything and leave it in the rack for later.

But that's not happening. The idea fills you with a cold and genuine dread, just as strong and perverse as when you'd tried to shower earlier, or sit on your bed. You can't turn on the tap because then the water will touch you, and it will feel Wrong, and then your whole body will feel Wrong, and then you'll die of Sudden Onset Wrongness. And now that you think about it, a lot of your anxiety today has revolved around water, and isn't that a symptom of rabies? Hydrophobia? Did you get rabies somehow? Would you know if you had rabies? Maybe that's the thing that's wrong with you- you're not depressed or insane or just a terrible person living a terrible life. You're just rabid. There's something eating your brain, and that's what's making you into such a fucking failure of a person.

While you're debating the possibility of brain-eating viruses, Chan comes home from work. You automatically turn towards him, a bright smile on your face, and rush to greet him.

"Hey, Channie!" you say, bouncing over to him with a pep you do not feel. "I'm so happy you're here!"

And you are, mostly. You love your boyfriend, really you do. He's loving and attentive, and he's never made you feel like anything less than the number one priority in his life. You have similar values and work ethics, which keeps you on the same page through most difficult periods in either of your lives and careers. You haven't been together long, but your bond is solid, and you really believe you're going to make it far together.

You also really believe you won't if he ever finds out what a complete nutcase you are. So you hide it. You grin at him and you appear light and joyful and easygoing and you brush off his concerns with adages and placations, and you redirect the conversation back to him, because you're a good listener and you love the sound of his voice and you much prefer that activity to any activity that involves you explaining how you laid on the floor for five hours and had an emotional breakdown while slicing cabbage. He has other things to worry about, other problems to solve without adding yourself to the list. You're supposed to be his respite, not another draining task. He doesn't need to know how hard it's been lately. You shouldn't have to say it.

So he doesn't. And you don't.

"Hey baby," he says. He sets his stuff down and kisses you in greeting. "How was your day?"

"Okay," you say. The answer feels curt, but you don't want to ruminate any more on your absolutely fruitless afternoon.

Chan doesn't comment on your strange answer. He takes his shoes off and hangs up his coat, and as he's about to walk past you he spots the mountain of dishes in the kitchen.

"Oh, were you about to do the dishes? I can do them if you'd like."

"You just got home," you protest. "You should go sit down."

"But you've been standing just as long cooking dinner, right? I should do my part."

His insistence is making something terrible expand in your gut. Instead of being flattered at his offer to help, his words feel like a violent condemnation. You should've done the dishes before he got home. You should've finished cleaning the kitchen altogether, so that he can relax in a clean environment. What kind of stupid fucking girlfriend are you, where you can't even do basic chores around the house?

"No, it's okay. I already psyched myself up to do them, so I'll do them."

Chan hums in a tone that's either playful or mocking, you genuinely can't tell which. "Okay, if you say so. Don't be afraid to tap out if the dishes get the better of you."

Great. He thinks you're so stupid you couldn't do the dishes if you tried.

You subtly regulate your breathing as you turn towards the sink. Chan disappears into the apartment out of view, and you give yourself thirty seconds to push your freak-out as far down inside you as you can.

"You're not an idiot, y/n," you tell yourself. "You can do some fucking dishes."

You reach under the sink and pull out some disposable plastic gloves. They make your hands look weirdly swollen and unfamiliar, as if they aren't your hands anymore. For a bizarre moment, you're convinced that they're genuinely not, that someone else's hands have been put on your body. You close your eyes so hard sparks fly in front of you.

Stop being crazy. Do the fucking dishes.

You turn on the water and pick up a bowl.

Chan reappears. You flash him a smile, but say nothing. Chan grins back, all dimples and crescent eyes. He's so handsome it makes you want to rip your own skin off. You thank God every day that you were born beautiful, because you could never have caught his attention with your personality alone. He'd be completely out of your league, and honestly, maybe he still is.

That thought gets shut down and pushed away. One crisis at a time. You don't have hands and you might have rabies, but you definitely have a boyfriend who loves you. There's no point in kicking yourself while you're down.

You turn back to the sink.

You cannot do these fucking dishes.

"Work was funny today," Chan says as he moves over to the stove and opens the pot.

"Mm?"

"Just some technical issues in the studio. Nothing serious, but it gave us some good bloopers."

You pick up a glass cup. You can see your reflection mirrored back at you in the curve, and your eyes are so wide. Have they always been that wide? Are your eyes drier these days than they normally are? You can't tell, because every part of you feels both dehydrated and submerged under water.

"This is really good, babe," Chan says.

You blink. "What?"

Chan holds up his bowl. "The stew. It's great. I told you it would be delicious."

You let out a pleased sound. "Thank you baby. Your encouragement really motivated me."

It was the wrong thing to say. You have no idea how, but from the way Chan's expression changes slightly as he looks at you, you know he's caught on to you acting weird.

"Is everything alright?"

Shit.

"With me? Yeah, I guess so. I've just been really tired lately."

"On the job hunt?" he asks sympathetically. It's like a stake in your heart.

"As always."

He wraps an arm around you and presses a kiss to your hair. "Don't worry, baby. You're super qualified in your field. You'll find something soon."

You need him to stop touching you or you'll start throwing pans at the wall.

"I hope so," is all you say.

"I know so. Just keep faith."

You hum again, noncommittal. It's like you're slowly losing the ability to speak. And the gloves are too tight and the water is so loud and you're nauseous and your head still hurts and it's probably not even the stress, it's probably the rabies, it's turning your brain into swiss cheese as you speak.

After another tight squeeze, Chan lets you go and retrieves his bowl from where he'd set it down. You hope he might leave you to go eat in the living room, but instead he hovers on the opposite side of the island, and continues telling you about his day. Normally, you'd love to hear the play by play of every crazy thing that happened with his group members and managers. Today, it's like nails on a chalkboard. The story is endless, keeps weaving around other anecdotes and tangents and you wish he would just shut up for one second so you can pull yourself together but you can't say that, because he isn't doing anything wrong, you're just being crazy, you're a bad and lazy girlfriend and you can't even put your own issues on hold long enough to listen to your boyfriend talk about his day. Everything is wrong wrong wrong, and you're Wrong and something is Wrong With You and it just keeps going it never stopswhy can't it all just stop-

"Y/N?"

Your name sounds like it's coming from a thousand miles away.

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

You turn to look at Chan, see his eyebrows pinched together in concern. You have no idea how long he's been saying your name.

Very calmly, you strip your gloves off and lay them to the side. You turn off the water.

"Sorry," you say. "Give me one moment, please."

You walk past him and down the hall to your bedroom, where you very calmly and gently close the door behind yourself. You climb on to your bed, filthy clothes and all, and pull two of the pillows from the end to rest on top of each other. You tie your hair back with a hair tie, press your face into the stack of pillows below you so that your whole face is covered.

And you just start screaming.

Screaming is therapeutic, apparently. Or at least, it's on the approved list of emotional regulation activities your therapist had given you. As long as you aren't screaming at anyone, it can be an effective form of release. It helps you release the tension from your core and focus that nervous energy into sound and action.

You scream into the pillow as loud as you can. You aren't sure how much it's doing to muffle your sound, but the belief that it's helping allows you to let go. It's tearing at your throat, the intensity of it. Once you start it's hard to stop, you just keep going and going and going, as if you're expelling demons.

When you finally peter out, you pause for a moment, then push yourself onto your knees. You're dizzy. Blood is rushing in your ears. It's oddly hard to breathe, as if you can't get enough air in your lungs. Even the fact of your own body is too much for you. You wish you could abandon it, just for a moment. You wish you could observe this from the outside so that you would better know how to fix it.

Eventually, your breaths calm. The buzzing recedes, leaving room for rational thought. And your chest feels....lighter. No longer is there a bomb sitting in your sternum, waiting to explode. The pressure has equalized. You look down at your hands, fisted in your bedsheets, and they look like your hands.

Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool.

You think you can probably do the dishes now.

Gingerly, you climb out of bed and make your way to the door. You open it, prepared to put your smile back on and apologize for your rude exit.

Chan is outside your door.

His eyes are wide with alarm. He looks stiff, hesitant. One of his hands is outstretched towards the door, as if about to knock.

Your face goes blank, wiring short-circuiting as you try to figure out what to say.

"Hey, y/n," Chan says, slow, testing. "Are you okay?"

Your script restarts, and a big smile automatically draws itself on your face. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about that. I just got a little overwhelmed."

"Overwhelmed?"

"Yeah. It's fine, though. Come on, you can finish telling me your story."

You grab his hand and try to pull him away from the bedroom. He doesn't budge.

"Will you tell me what's going on?"

You turn back to look at him. "Nothing's going on."

"Baby, I understand if you don't want to talk to me about it yet. But you don't need to pretend there's nothing wrong. You don't need to lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

"I heard you screaming in there."

Ice flushes through your body.

"Ah. Well, it's like I said. I got a little overwhelmed. I'm not hurt or anything. Sorry if I worried you."

"A little overwhelmed?" He's getting frustrated now, put off by your blase tone. "You look like you're on the verge of a nervous breakdown."

"No, I don't," you say, because you don't. You know what you look like when you get like this. You've trained your expressions so well that your face doesn't flush. Your eyes don't tear up. You have to look put together, because if you don't look put together then you can't convince yourself that you are put together.

"Y/n. I know you. I can tell when something's up." He sighs. "I've thought you were a bit distant for the past couple of weeks but I figured you would come to me eventually. But here we are, and you're having an anxiety attack right in front of me and you won't even admit it."

"I'm not having an anxiety attack."

"Love, I know what anxiety looks like. If you'd just let me help-"

"I'm not having an anxiety attack. I don't have anxiety. I would know if I did."

"Everyone has bad days and hard times, baby. You don't have to be defensive. I'm not accusing you of anything."

"You say you're not accusing me of anything after unilaterally diagnosing me with anxiety?"

Chan lets out a long breath. "That wasn't what I meant. I just mean-"

"You can't just assign me disorders when you decide I'm acting irrationally. You don't know my medical history. You don't even know me that well. You don't know if my behavior is normal or not."

"You can't be getting upset at me for 'not knowing you' when it's clear you're actively hiding things from me," Chan says, patience thinning. "I see you're in distress and you're picking apart my wording? I'm trying to help you."

"I didn't say I wanted your help."

"You're my partner! Of course I'm going to help you!"

"You can't!"

"Why not?"

"Because-" You choke on it and slam your lips shut.

Chan's face is drawn in irritation. He makes a go on gesture. But you can't go on. It's like the words are trapped in bubbling tar.

Your silence stretches. Chan sighs and drags a hand down his face in exhaustion. He'd gone out of his way to come visit you and now he regrets it. You've wasted his evening and ruined his mood. It's only a matter of time before he realizes you ruin everything. Hell realize he's drowning in all your mess and decide to save himself, and then you'll be alone again.

You draw in a breath of your own, but you're still lightheaded.

"Why did you invite me over if you didn't want me to see you like this?" he asks finally. "You don't have to see me every day if that's not what you want."

All the anger is gone from his voice. He's being so patient that your own stubbornness is acrid in comparison. You swallow, hard. Every muscle in your body is tense. You have the pull the words out of your throat with hooks, one syllable at a time.

"I wanted to see you," you explain, stilted and pathetic. "I thought I could pretend for long enough."

"Pretend what?"

That I'm not crazy. That I'm not falling apart. That I'm normal and easygoing and a joy to be around and definitely not rabid.

It's impossible to say. You don't know what's wrong with you, but you know that something is. You can't do the dishes. And you can't do this.

Your knees buckle and you sink to the floor of the hallway.

"Y/n?"

You don't respond. You're just staring straight ahead, all your thoughts whirring so fast that you're having trouble parsing any of them.

"Y/n? Hey, baby, sweetheart, can you look at me?"

You blink, and he's in front of you, on your level. He's trying to look calm but you can see the panic in his eyes. It only makes your chest tighter. You're dragging him down, you're cursing him. He needs to get out or you'll have his blood on your hands.

"We need to break up," you whisper.

Chan reels back like he's been slapped. "What?"

"We can't- we need to break up. I shouldn't have invited you over. I'm sorry."

"I..." Chan is at a loss for words. "You don't mean that."

But you do mean it. With everything in your body. "We can't be together."

"Baby, I don't know what you're thinking, but we don't have to break up if you don't want to. I don't want to break up."

You feel sick with his sureness. How can he claim to know you better than you know yourself?

"You don't get it," you say. Your tone is unnatural, words strange on your tongue. "We just can't be together."

"Can you tell me why you feel that way?"

"Just look at me."

"I am looking at you. And all I see is my beautiful, wonderful, perfect girlfriend who is having a very bad day and might be making some hasty decisions."

"Not a bad day. A bad life. I'm fucked up, Chan." The words come out with such a quiet malice that it shocks even yourself. "I can't even do the fucking dishes."

"I can do the dishes, love. I said it wasn't a big deal."

"No no no. It's not about the dishes." You're struggling to explain- the words are getting twisted, the thoughts all merge together- "I can't do anything. It's not about the fucking dishes. It's about- I can't-"

And you burst into tears

"I'm sorry," you say. "I'm really sorry. I just-"

"It's okay," he soothes. "It's okay. I understand now."

He doesn't. He can't, and you know that full well. You shake your head, vision blurring from your tears. You're so embarassed and it's making you cry worse. You think you must look so ugly right now. He must be repulsed by you. You're repulsed by yourself, your own misery making your skin crawl.

"Can I touch you, baby? I want to hold you."

You shouldn't. You'll infect him. You'll ruin him and take away everything that makes him good. Why is he even still talking to you? Why doesn't he leave?

"You don't have to-to feel obligated. I can just- if you give me a second-"

"I don't feel obligated," he says, patient but firm. "I love you. I want to hold you all the time."

Something in your chest cracks. You're so weak. It's pathetic. But you can't hold yourself back anymore.

"Please," you whisper, defeated.

Chan reaches out and pulls you into his arm. You're both still on the ground, but he rearranges you so you can hide your face in his shoulder, and you do, too humiliated by your tears to be able to look at his face. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and your traitorous body relaxes without your permission.

"You've been struggling for a long time haven't you?" he asks. "You didn't want me to pity you."

You don't say anything. You can't bear to.

"Well, I don't pity you. I think you're very strong, trying to deal with this on your own. You made me dinner today even though you didn't really want to, right? That was very kind of you to do. You take such good care of me, baby. You light up my life. Isn't it fair that I should get to take care of you too? Can't I return the favor by helping you now?"

"It's not the same," you mumble into his shirt, because the magnitude of the two asks isn't comparable. You chopped up some vegetables and threw them in a pot. He is witnessing you have a mental breakdown in your hallway. You're not equally yoked. It's too much to ask of anyone.

"Whether it's the same or not doesn't matter. Love isn't transactional. It doesn't have to be equal effort every single time. This isn't a favor I'm returning. I'm comforting you because you're upset, and I hate to see you cry. Do you believe me when I say I want to see you happy and smiling? That I would do anything to ensure it?"

You finally pull away from him, wiping away your tears on your sleeve. "You might have to go find a new girlfriend then," you say, voice cracking from the tears and the weight of your despair.

"I don't want a new girlfriend. I want you." He's hesitant, but he continues. "There are ways of getting help, you know. We can try some things, like therapy, or medication. I can help you. You don't have to feel this way all the time."

You shake your head. "I'm in therapy and on meds already. None of it really....works on me. I have fewer bad days than I used to but they still leave me like...like this. And they just drag on....it turns to weeks and months, and I can't....I can't do anything." You let out a shaky breath and make yourself stop talking. Even after all this, the urge to hold back is engrained in you. "You deserve better."

"I think I decide what I deserve," Chan says. "I know it's hard to open up about things like this, but what's worse than you being depressed is you hiding it from me. How can we work on this if you're pretending it's not real?"

"I wanted to be good for you. I wanted to be...to be easy."

Chan leans forward and cups your face in his hands. He looks you right in the eyes, and you see that they're glossy with their own unshed tears. "I don't need you to be easy. No one is. I just want you to be you. And I want you to let me be there for you. In everything. Including this. I want all of you. Do you think you can do that? Can you try?" He wipes away your tears with his thumb.

You swallow harshly. It goes against everything in you, everything you've taught yourself. Chan loves you. He wants to stay. Even though it may all crash and burn later, even though he might still turn on you or reject you or give up on you and declare this all a lost cause, right now he wants to stay. He believes in you. And you want to hold on to that belief as long as it lasts.

"Okay. I'll try."

A relieved smile stretches across his face.

"That's my girl," he says, and presses a kiss to your forehead. It makes something like pride settle in your chest, as if the part of you that cracked earlier might not stay jagged forever.

"Let's get off the floor, hmm? I feel like you might've spent enough time down here today."

You definitely hadn't mentioned that. Maybe he really does understand more than you'd thought possible. You don't know exactly how to feel about that, but you allow a bit of gratefulness to come through as he stands up on his own and reaches a hand down to pull you up. You wipe your eyes one last time, let out a breath, and take his hand.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Oh, come on, there’s just —” Will blows an errant curl from out of his eyes, cheeks red with exertion, balancing nimbly on his feet to put both hands on his hips. “There’s no way, Nico.”

Nico, not blessed with such balance, has to hold all footholds with all limbs, staring warily at the lava wall’s snake holes.

“What? I’m just not as good as you.”

Will flops his right arm outwards, narrowly avoiding smacking it against the rock. “But you are!”

Nico shifts his wary gaze from the snake holes to Will’s rope harness. Is it tight enough? It better be tight enough. Will is putting a lot of faith in it, right now.

“You scaled those cliffs in — in the place —” he trips, still, over the pit, on the odd time he mentions it, and it always makes Nico wince — “like it was nothing! And whenever Percy visits and challenges you you’re suddenly the lava wall expert!” He turns stern blue eyes to face Nico’s head-on. “Not buying it, di Angelo!”

A gush of lava forces him to resume climbing, but there’s an aggression to his movements — a specific, stiff, curated aggression, that Nico has learned means anxiety in people known as William Andrew Solace. That, and coupled with the rapid muttering which, in between the roar of molten stone, Nico believes is a a repetition of “dumbass” “always tryna act a goddamn fool” and “I’m gonna kill him before he sends me into cardiac arrest again”, interspersed with random swears in English, Latin, Ancient Greek, and also — gods — Klingon.

“Will.”

Will ignores him, scampering the last few feet up the wall and slapping the top before relaying down. Nico sighs, following him (albeit significantly slower).

“Will.”

“You’re hiding something from me.” He practically rips the harness off his body — do not think about that do not think about that do not think about that — and shoves it on the hook so hard it damn near snaps off. The look he levels in Nico’s direction practically turns him to stone, it’s so frigid, and he has to resist a shiver. “I can tell.”

It takes a good amount of pushing to make Will all testy like this. Sure, his buttons are easy to push, but most of that is for show. He likes to be dramatic. (Especially because he knows Nico will indulge him, more than anyone else ever has. He relishes in it, Nico thinks; he likes that Nico will watch his productions. An Apollo kid through and through.) He’s not usually one to show his genuine frustration.

But, hoo, boy, when he is frustrated.

Nico has a bad, bad habit of making it worse.

(As if it’s his fault that Will’s hot when he’s mad.)

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nico says, forcibly lightly. He sticks his hand out defiantly. “Check me, why don’t you? Not hiding anything.”

He really isn’t. No injuries, no illness, hell, he’s not even tired. Had a full three meals and everything. Even his perpetually achey joints aren’t bad today.

All of this, obviously, is communicated when Will touches him, squinting suspiciously at their joined hands.

“You’re heart rate is high,” he mutters petulantly.

Nico looks at him patiently. “That’s ‘cause my smokeshow boyfriend is holding my hand.”

Grumpy as he’s trying to be, his ears redden. A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth.

“Shut up.”

Nico grins, pulling his hand up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the knuckles.

“No.”

“Whatever,” Will says, snatching his hand back. His smile spreads widely across his face, now, and he looks away, as pleased as he is exasperated. “You’re still being a weirdo. I should not be so far ahead of you on the wall, Neeks.”

Success — back to nicknames. Crisis averted.

“Have you considered that you’re the camp-wide record holder for a reason, you spider monkey?”

“Still!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nico gets up on his tiptoes, pressing a lingering kiss to the bridge of his freckled nose. “Stop worrying about me, Solace. I’m fine. Burn off some steam, I’ll watch.”

Will huffs. “Fine. But I’ll find out, y’hear me? Truth can’t hide from me for long.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He watches as Will suits back up, helping him with his more complicated straps (because Nico was raised to be a gentleman, obviously, why else) and shooing him away when he opens his mouth for more interrogations. He switches to sticking out his tongue, and after a moment of hesitation, bounds back over to his first true love — being a big nerdy jock dork.

Nico settles on the grass several feet away from the wall, pretending to clean his sword. After a few minutes, he hears footsteps, and two people sit next to him on either side.

“So,” says Lou Ellen, ignoring Nico’s suspicious look as she tosses a glowing ball of something around, “how come you’re not climbing?”

Nico shrugs. “Only so many times you can climb before it gets boring.”

On his other side, Cecil makes a loud buzzer sound.

“Nope! Wrong answer. Try again.”

Nico is a dignified grownup who refuses to stoop down to Cecil’s level by responding. Instead, he reaches over and pokes him in his ridiculously sensitive ribs, hard, sending him sprawling with a screech.

“Shut up,” he says mildly, as his friend flails. “I’m trying to be a supportive boyfriend, and I can’t do that with all your whining.”

Will has, in the ten minutes since he started, made it halfway up the wall. He seems to have it programmed to the Super Extra Mega Evil Insane mode that the Athena and Ares kids invented just for him, since he smoked all the other levels. He dodges a shot of lava with a laugh, throwing himself to the side and hanging on with three fingers and one scuffed sneaker poised on the tiniest sliver of rock. His attention is broken when Lou Ellen sticks her face right in Nico’s field of vision, tracing Nico’s eyeline with narrowed eyes.

“Ah,” she nods knowingly. “You’re staring at his ass.”

Nico falters, damn near slicing his own fingers off. “No idea what you’re talking about,” he says blithely. He gestures without looking at his sword. “I’m busy, see?”

She scoffs. “Real busy. That’s why you almost just did emergency surgery on yourself.”

“Exactly.”

Will pushes up a foot, shifting his hips and launching himself upwards. He makes a little shout of victory, plastering himself to the wall to keep balance, every muscle tensed.

From his place on the floor, Cecil makes an appreciative noise. “He does have a nice ass. Can’t blame you for looking.”

Nico frowns. “Hey. Stop objectifying my boyfriend.” He reaches out and smacks a hand over Cecil’s eyes. “That’s my job.”

“You guys are ridiculous.”

Nico reaches over and puts a hand over her eyes, too, ‘cause there’s no missing where they’re pointed.

“Shut up or I’ll literally put shadows into your retinae and blind you forever,” Nico threatens. (Is this a thing he can do? No. Do his friends know this? Also no.)

“You’re a dictator!” Cecil protests.

“Depriving us of basic human rights!” Lou Ellen agrees.

Nico shrugs. He glances back up the the climbing wall, where he has a very perfect view — and a great reason to never even try to climb faster than Will does. He grins.

“Too bad for you guys.”

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC ~ Dead on main ~ Signs of Death

~~~Eye of Death~~~

Jason liked to think that Danny has cat's eyes. And by that Jay doesn't mean mixture of a predatory look and a cute purr of his boyfriend's core that comes with non-human being thing. Just cats have slit-shaped eyes. Danny have them too. And Todd is so into it.

Jason:

I don’t understand why he takes his eyes off me when I call him Kitty or try to catch his eye. He’s a dog lover but I didn’t think he hated cats. They’re cheeky and charming, just like him. Danny’s not embarrassed by his fangs or his white hair. So..why?

Later Sam explains to Jason that after the portal incident Danny did not immediately learn to live a half-life and for the first few days dropped dead several times.  And because she tested it using Ripault sign, the shape of his pupils ended up looking like cat's one in his phantom form.

P.S.Ripault sign - a sign of death consisting of a permanent change in the shape of the pupil produced by unilateral pressure on the eyeball.  So, a pupil  of a dead person acquires an oval shape, and in a healthy living person such a reaction is not observed. This is associated with the inevitable post-mortem drop in blood pressure and the lack of activity of the central nervous system, which manifests itself in the absence of ocular muscle tone.

Tacker adds that Danny also died with his eyes open, so in his Phantom form he barely blinks. It seems pretty creepy too everyone, well, except Jason. Thanks to Tim he used to have blank stare near him.

~~~~~~ the Lazarus heart ~~~~~~~

Team Phantom also tells him that when Danny's too focused on phantom's task (save, protect, escape) his systems just stop keeping Fenton's body alive.

No blinking and fixed pupils are the first signs Jason has learned to watch for. After that, breathing stops. Only a few times he recorded a complete cardiac arrest. After the battle with Pariah Dark, Danny passed out on the couch and lay without a heartbeat, so the blood clotted exactly where it had collected under gravity. Those cadaveric spots appeared in several places really frightened Jason. 

So during the fight his boyfriend's ghost side stops monitoring functions of his human body at all. And it doesn't help that cardiostimulation for Phantom is pointless. He died from exposure to electricity, so the generation of a signal to work the cells is now under full control of the core.

Jason fights with Danny for a long time, convincing him that he should take better care of his health. As a compromise, they decide to put several sensors on them to monitor some parameters around the clock. Jason curses that it was his idea when Batman enters their apartment at night, smashing the window. It turns out that death is still following Jason. His heart was the one that played the funeral march on the cardiogram and froze, and he didn’t even notice it.

The old man managed to break several of his ribs while doing CPR but Jason only came to life when Danny pulled the hyperventilating bat away from his body and let ectoplasm take its course.

P.S. Lazarus syndrome, also known as autoresuscitation after failed cardiopulmonary resuscitation, is the spontaneous return of a normal cardiac rhythm after failed attempts at resuscitation. 

[vampyresovereign]

pooka..pooka..!!! do Leona dating HEADCANONS!

*rubs your feet*

your wish is my command pooka doodle... -isa<3

DATING LEONA KINGSCHOLAR HEADCANONS

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x GN!Reader Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Quick Synopsis: just a bunch of general headcanons of what leona would be like in a relationship + little drabbles in between Tags: Use of Y/N, use of "herbivore" nickname, reader is not Yuu, no specific physical description of reader, reader is a Night Raven student

HOW YOU TWO WOULD MEET

From the way the books/vignettes portray him, I'm going to be real and say I see Leona as an introvert, maybe go as far to say he's kind of a shut in. OBVIOUSLY not as much as Idia, but he doesn't really strike me as someone who would be actively looking for love like that (at first.) definitely not the type to do the cliche "locking eyes with object of affection for the first time and just falling head over heels" shtick. to me, it seems like he's just tuning everything out until he eventually graduates, which is why for you to be even considered, you'd have to be a constant, like someone he's always getting partnered with in classes or a mutual friend. sorry guys.. no hallway crushes here.

In all honesty, you were less than ecstatic when Crewel had decided to partner you with your fellow classmate, Leona Kingscholar.

He had never done anything to you personally to give you a negative impression of him, but it was just his demeanor and how he carried himself around the general public. Not speaking in class, you could barely recall his voice, and constantly maintaining that annoyed scowl.. When he was awake.

Did you mention that he had no shame about sleeping in class?

He just.. intimidated you. When it was about time to shift to your station with Leona, you grabbed your things and awkwardly sat down in the chair next to him. He was leaning back on the chair, eyes closed, ears twitching slightly to let you know he sensed your presence.

Whatever little assignment you two had to do would last a week at most, maybe even shorter than that, so Leona was under the impression he wouldn't have to care about you that much.

Little did he know.

-

CONFESSION HEADCANONS

One thing about Leona is that the man has a TRUCKLOAD of pride inside of him. Though, he's not stupid. He watched Falena fall in love with his future wife, he's seen old friends get into relationships. He is no stranger to love. When he realizes he has feelings for you, his first instinct would be to gaslight himself and try to deny it, especially if you were someone smaller or more sensitive than him. He didn't come to Night Raven to fall in love, especially with someone like you. If anything, it should be the other way around (haaah.) It wasn't even his choice to be on campus to begin with. However, the more he thinks about it, the more he tries to ignore it whilst spending time with you, the more unbearable it becomes to keep his feelings bottled up. The first person he confides in is Ruggie, but not with a direct approach. He'd ask him little one off questions, like "What would you do if _______" or "If you had a partner would ________." Ruggie would most definitely be confused at first, wondering why Leona, who was never once interested in romance was suddenly asking for his opinions on the topic, but Ruggie is smart. He'd see you two hanging out frequently, put the pieces together, and absolutely bombard Leona with questions and jokes. Essentially, Ruggie suggests that the only solution to this "annoyance" as Leona puts it, is for him to grow some balls and tell you how he feels himself. That has Leona grumbling. Expressing your feelings means being vulnerable with someone, something Leona would not be caught dead doing. This isn't fair, where did all his confidence go? If he looked at you any longer, he guessed he going to go into cardiac arrest from the way his heart pounded in his ribcage, like a ticking time-bomb.

"Hey, is everything okay? You said you wanted to talk," You exclaimed.

Leona scratched his head, avoiding eye contact for a few seconds before focusing back on you and your concerned expression. This was embarrassing. There were worse things he hadn't hesitated to say to other people before, but asking you out was of course the thing that had him fumbling like an idiot.

"So.. Remember that movie trailer you kept yappin' about?"

"Of course I do, I've wanted to see it for a while."

"Well, you're in luck. I bought us tickets to go see it Friday night, if you want."

Your lips curled into a small smile, and you began to look genuinely excited. "Really? That's actually so cool of you!"

"Mhm. But by us, I mean just us."

You raised an eyebrow. "...Are you asking me out?"

A light red tint painted his cheeks, indicating to you that you had absolutely hit the nail on his intentions.

"Herbivore, do you want to or not?" He quipped, suddenly getting defensive.

"Alright, alright, sure. It's a date."

-

ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

After that little movie date, it didn't have to be said, but both of you knew that the feeling was mutual. It wouldn't take long for Leona to start referring to you as his partner, and vice-versa. He wouldn't act much differently than he did when you two were "just friends," but he'd definitely be more territorial, teasing, and affectionate in public. I imagine him to be kind of annoying too, walking up to you with your friends and greeting you by saying some shit like "WSG LIL BRO!" and then proceeding to headlock + give you a noogie in front of them. 😭😭 now.. where did all this sudden energy come from? A few months ago, Ruggie remembered Leona never wanting to get out of bed, avoiding classwork and avoiding people in general if he didn't have to talk to them. But when the two of you start dating, he starts to care a lot more about things he considered insignificant. He suddenly starts to notice how frizzy his hair gets over the course of the day, and brushes it periodically so he'll look good when he meets you after your classes. He puts on a nicer smelling cologne. He starts to take notice of his spending habits. Yeah sure, he's a prince, he got mad money, but at the same time, the numbers are starting to go down because he bought you flowers, expensive jewelry, and more clothes all in one week. He also makes an effort to get to know your friends and interests. It's not like he didn't care much before, but he really likes to listen to your voice and hear you talk. He could do it for hours, falling asleep to it and waking up to it. Speaking of falling asleep, yes cuddling is involved in this relationship. He's lowkey a bad influence. You've gotten in trouble multiple times because you've asked to use the bathroom, using the hall pass as an excuse to roam around in the botanical gardens until you find him. He ALWAYS convinces you to stay with him and take a nap, resulting in you oversleeping and getting detention. But it's aight. Y'all are in detention together. In conclusion, mans is head over heels for you. Screw his head for this sudden vulnerability, and screw you for keeping him around, making him fall deeper everyday.

DOES ANYONE KNOW HOW TO GET THE FUCKING WEIRD SMALL TEXT WITH RANDOM BIG LETTERS GLITCH OFF IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE IT BUT ITS PISSING ME OFF -isa<3

[mellifiedprincess]

This was wrote very quickly, sooo not really sure if it’s good or not :/

“Good morning campers! I’m your host Nick Sturniolo.” There’s a slight pause before your eyes drift over to your boyfriend. “Matthew Sturniolo here.”

“Chrizzz.”

“And welcome back to the Cut the Camera podcast.” You can hear the joy in Nicks voice as he continues the intro. Your head is placed in Nicks shoulder, arms wrapped around one of his, in search of comfort.

Usually, you find comfort in the arms of your boyfriend. But not today. Today he and Chris have betrayed your trust, and therefore you are forced to cling to Nick against his free will.

“Of course I can’t continue without explaining why Y/N is glued to my side. For those who are not watching this on youtube, normally Y/N and Matt would be sitting together. Being gross and all that, but not today.” Nick pauses, looking at you before switching his eyes from Matt to Chris.

“Would anyone like to explain?” Before either of the boys can even think about speaking, your body lunges forward to grab Nicks mic. “Matt and Chris are evil spawns of satan and deserve to be put in solitary confinement.” You glare at the stupid laughing idiots sitting across from you and sink back down next to Nick.

“JESUS Y/N/N!” Chris can barely get words out from laughing at your outburst. “Kids wanting us locked up.”

“Nick! Make him shut up before I punch his stupid face.”

“Alright sweetheart.” Nick laughs and gives your arm an affectionate rub.

“Chris cut it out. Leave her alone.” Matt finally speaks up, his lopsided grin giving away the fact he finds the current scared state his girlfriend is in to be amusing. His eyes meet yours and even though he knows you’re not seriously upset with him, he still wants to apologize profusely and shower you with affection.

“Will you please come over here and sit by me?” He pleads with you, but you’re not having it. “No!” You huff out and squeeze Nicks arm even tighter.

“Ohhhkay, moving on.” Nick interrupts before things escalate. “The reason Y/N and Matt are mad at each other-“

“I’m not mad at my girlfriend. I miss her and want her over here with me!” Matt cuts Nick off with a tone one could only describe as…pouty. “Maybe if you didn’t try to paralyze me with fear and send me into cardiac arrest, I wouldn’t be over here with Nicky praying on your downfall.” With that you cross your arms and purse your lips, that same glare from earlier back.

An audible whine leaves your boyfriend’s lips. A whine. He was actually trying to kill you.

“Can I tell the viewers what happened? Or am I gonna keep getting interrupted?” After everyone finally quiets down, Nick continues.

“So, many of you may not know this about our angel of a friend Y/N, but one of her biggest fears is things/people running at her.” You can clearly see the amusement on the triplets faces, because of how ridiculously funny the situation is to them. It wasn’t to you though. “It could literally be a baby crawling towards her super fast and the girl is screaming and frozen with fear.”

Before Nick starts to speak again, Chris starts laughing uncontrollably once again. “Remember when we went to that haunted house thing for halloween and at the end, like after you make it back outside, there was that guy holding a chainsaw-“ You already knew what he was talking about, one of the scariest moments of your life.

“Christopher don’t!” Your tone is one of warning, and your eyes widen at the memory that haunts you daily. (Dramatic much?)

Of course, that fucker continues anyway. “No wait, this is one of my favorite Y/N/N stories. Chris has to tell it.”

“You traitor!” You point an accusing finger at Nick, who only laughs at you. “I can’t trust any of you!” You quickly move to sit by Matt after that, a satisfied grin makes its way onto his face and he wraps his arms around you as soon as you’re next to him.

And as soon as your body falls into his, any fear you had diminishes instantly. Like your body knew the safest you would ever feel was anywhere in his proximity. You feel his lips press against your temple, before making its way across your cheek, and then finally turning your head a little to give you a proper kiss on your lips.

“And the barf mobile has arrived.” Nick deadpans. “Fuck off.” You and Matt deadpan in unison.

“Alright when I come running at you with a chainsaw, don’t say shit.”

The image of Nick running at you makes you curl into Matt’s side even more. “Alright, stop scaring her. She literally won’t sleep tonight and will probably make me go with her to the bathroom every time she has to use it.”

“You’re funny if you think I’m not making you go with me to the bathroom after the shit you and Chris pulled.”

Matt can only grin down at you, he was just happy that you were back beside him. Codependency is a bitch <3

“Alright, back to what Matt and Chris did to Y/N. Y/N, you wanna start the story off?” Nick directs the attention on to you and you start playing with Matt’s fingers as an anxious habit.

“Let’s start off with the fact, I was in the middle of cooking dinner for these idiots and I thought I was still the only one home.” You watch Chris cover his mouth to try to hide his smile, ultimately failing.

“I heard something from downstairs and thought maybe Chris left his patio doors open and an animal got in. Wouldn’t be the first time. So, I put my investigation skills to the test and went to see what it was. Anyone want to guess what it was?” You pause for dramatic effect, looking around the table for a moment.

“It was my lovely boyfriend and dumbass best friend standing at the bottom of the staircase with creepy ass masks on. And as soon as they saw me they start running up the stairs towards me!” A shiver of fright runs through your body at the scene replaying in your head.

“And what did your fight or flight instincts tell you to do?” Matt asks, already knowing the answer since he saw it firsthand. “I don’t have fight or flight instincts. I have freeze instincts. BECAUSE I WAS FROZEN FROM FEAR!”

And at your outburst, the three brothers start laughing uncontrollably, Matt earning a slap to his chest as his body shakes from how hard he was laughing.

“And what makes it even worse is when my body finally registered I needed to move my fucking ass, I ran to our room and immediately called Matt.”

“Awe baby, I’m so sorry.” He’s quietly laughing now, pulling you even closer to his body. “I promise I won’t scare you like that ever again.” You cut your eyes at him and plants a kiss to your cheek, trying to convince you.

“Maybe not intentionally, but Y/N/N literally gets scared if you look at her for too long.”

Chris was right, but he didn’t have to call you out like that.

“I will hide every can of pepsi you bring into this house.” You threaten and watch as his mouth drops open in shock, before he fucking. starts. staring. you. down.

“CHRIS! Cut it out!” Matt yells at his younger brother when he realizes he’s trying to scare you again.

“You are all very bizarre.” Nick shakes his head and gets ready to move on to the next topic.

[covetyou]

low hanging fruit

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo & gn!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: cock and balls and assholes (Dieter's), brief mention of waxing male genitalia, the word "perineum", allusion to past relations between Dieter and PA. word count: 1.9k summary: Dieter Bravo really wants a smoothie. What you want is for Dieter Bravo to put some fucking clothes on.

A/N: you have some thots and shenanigans in @dieterbravobrainrotclub to thank for this one. I cannot remember who first mentioned the assless chaps but here it is lads. here it is. (edit: I am reliably informed it was @bitchwitch1981 I hope you're proud of me bb)

Not for the first time in your employment for Dieter Bravo, you choke on your coffee, spitting the hot liquid down your chin as you round the corner into his kitchen.

"Dee!"

But, for once, he's not actually doing anything unusual. What he's doing is perfectly normal. Dieter Bravo is hinged at the waist, bending low with his head buried in a kitchen cabinet as he reaches for some old gadget he stashed there too long ago to really care about it. Normal.

No. This time, what Dieter is wearing is the thing that has you beating at your chest as you hack and cough up the droplets of coffee you inhaled in your shock.

He's topless - no surprises there - his tan, freckled shoulders shifting as he reaches and tries to balance himself with a hand pressing all his weight into the counter top.

His legs are covered in denim - a little unusual for a man who prefers a cool breeze running through his leg hair at all times, but not in any way shocking. Except, they're not pants. Not normal pants. Why would they be, this is Dieter fucking Bravo.

They're assless chaps.

And he's wearing nothing underneath.

The sight of Dieter Bravo's bare cock and balls dangling between his legs was the very first sight you took of him, mid-morning on a fucking Tuesday, and it damn near sent you into cardiac arrest. And he's shameless about it too, bending low, squatting a little with his legs as he rummages around, showing you absolutely everything he has to offer and not batting a single eye at the fact that you're stood there, right behind him, seeing it all.

Once the burn and rasp of liquid in your esophagus has eased off, you can finally take a few clear breaths. Ignoring the stain on your shirt - scalding coffee now rapidly cooling as it seeps further and further into the fibers of the formerly white fabric - you place what's left of your coffee down on the counter, slapping the mail you had tucked under your arm next to it, and hold on with both hands. What the fuck.

"Dieter, what the fuck."

"Oh, hey sweet cheeks," he shouts back to you, dangling his head between his legs so you have to look beyond the sway of his cock and balls to make eye contact with him. "You've got something on your shirt."

If not for the assless chaps, and the persistent view of Dieter Bravo's perineum, you would be rolling your eyes and stalking off to continue your day, letting him know you'd be throwing your shirt in with his dry cleaning for him to foot the bill as you turned your back on him. But you don't. You're dumb struck and speechless, stood stock still as you stare and repeat the same few words you've already said.

"What... the fuck?"

"I did put that smoothie thing in here, didn't I?" he asks in return, sticking his head back into the cabinet, and squatting even lower. The blood in your body has gone to your face. You can feel the heat of it as it floods your cheeks and rushes through your ears. You can feel it elsewhere too, superheating your body from inside out, burning you up as something stirs between your legs and in the pit of your stomach that you'd rather ignore. You try to tell yourself you've seen it all before, because you have. You've seen every inch of Dieter Bravo in a million different situations, most of which you wish you'd never seen at all, and some you wish you could see again, and again, and again...

Still, all you can do is stare at him. The curve of his spine and the soft globes of his ass cheeks framed by dark denim that climbs up his hips. That soft smattering of hair down his crack and across his balls, hair that you know he once had waxed off because you'd found him crying on the deck afterwards and he had shown you right there out in the sun.

"Have you seen it?"

You've certainly seen some things, you think. You're looking at something right now.

"Seen what..." you mumble, mustering the strength to tear your eyes away from him just as he rises with a groan, resting his hands on the belt at his hips with a frown. The last thing you want is to get caught staring - it'd do nothing but add to the ever growing list of things he'd never let you live down.

"The fucking smoothie thing."

"You have a blender, Dee. It does the same thing."

"It does?"

Pushing your thumbs into your eyes until sparks bloom behind you lids doesn't even make the image of him go away, bent over or stood upright as he is right now, so you release with a sigh and let your vision sparkle back to life.

"Yes. Now, what the fuck, Dee?"

"Fine, I'm an idiot, a blender can do the same shit as the smoothie thing I-"

"No, I mean what the fuck are you wearing?"

He stops, brain rebooting, flapping hands stopping midair and the frown falling from his face, before his eyes positively illuminate and he grins wolfishly at you.

"Do you like them?" he says looking down at himself. His cock is still out, hanging limply between his legs, the waistband around his waist and the fabric covering his legs doing nothing to give him any kind of modesty. In fact, it's doing the opposite, functioning more as a picture frame to highlight the appendage than to cover anything. "Took them from that movie I shot back in September, you remember that western? Found them again this morning."

"That's great, Dee, but I really don't think you're meant to wear them like tha-"

Dieter pads toward you, his feet soft on the kitchen tile, his usual socks and crocs combo ignored for the day, likely with the excitement of finding his new favorite item of clothing.

"It's like I'm covered, but free, y'know?" he explains, wafting his hands around again as if it'll churn the thoughts in the air for you to latch on and understand a little easier. And you do understand. Sort of. You love nothing more than lounging around in your apartment in nothing but your underwear - there is not joy greater than taking off shoes that pinch, or pants that are too tight after a big meal, or -

"And I can just see and touch my dick whenever I want. Do you know how amazing it is to use the bathroom like this?"

There he is. There's the Dieter Bravo you know and love - though you'd never tell him that. Sometimes one to think with his dick, but most often one to think of his dick.

"Dieter, that sounds great, I'm really happy for you, but -"

"Oh, wait!" he says again, before zipping back around to the cabinet and bending into a another low crouch. "Where is it..."

"Dee," you say, deadpan and monotonous as he rifles through the cabinet again. Whether Dieter chooses not to hear you, or he can't hear you over the chaotic whirl of his thoughts, you're not quite sure, but it doesn't matter because he bounces into a crouch your mind short circuits again. And when he raises his ass back in the air, you curse his new found love of yoga and his increased flexibility.

You don't know whether to laugh or throw yourself onto the floor with the spilled coffee, but when he clears his throat, head still in the cabinet, you swear it fucking winks at you and you can't handle it any more.

"Dieter, I can see your asshole."

Still bent over, Dieter stills. Of course, his asshole, cock, and balls are still bare for you to see, but at least now he's stopped waving the fucking things around. And then he's rising, twisting to look at you with a curious look on his face as if he's picking his next words very carefully. If years in Dieter Bravo's service has taught you anything, it's that you divert and distract him in these moments before he can jump to the strangest of conclusions.

"Just tell me the housekeeper hasn't seen your asshole too, Dee."

"Which one?"

"Dieter!"

"They were gone before I even got down here -"

"Dieter, you have to promise me right now that you won't wear those around the housekeeper. Or the gardener. Any of them. And if you do, you better be wearing underwear-"

"Why would I wear underwear with these -"

"You promise me. I'm serious, Dee, you don't need an indecent exposure or sexual harassment lawsuit on your hands. I don't need that on my hands."

You try to keep eye contact with him - something neither you or he particularly liked, but focusing on his face and his fluffy head of hair was the only thing keeping your eyes from wandering down to the perfectly framed picture of his dick. It's a battle of wills now. You know this, and so does Dieter. It's the reason why you'd manage to last so long as his assistant where others had failed. Dieter Bravo was a stubborn and persistent man, but you had him beat on both fronts. You occasionally gave in, to keep him sweet, but mostly you lived with him being grumpy with you until he moved on or you did something so incredible that he didn't care any more.

"Dieter..." you say once more, and you can see the cogs in his brain slowly click through until everything slots into place.

"Fine. I promise."

Letting out the breath you didn't know you were holding, you try to hold your gaze steady, and up, anywhere but down his bare chest - his fucking bare chest - to undoubtedly linger too long between his legs. You hope he doesn't see when you swallow thickly, muttering good with a small nod just as you pick up his mail and what's left of your coffee. If you turn quick enough you can probably get away with not seeing his dick again today.

"What about you," he calls to you just as you're about to make your maneuver. "Do I need to cover up in front of you? If I do that's not fair, you're here all the time, and you've seen it all before, you've even -"

"No." Fuck.

The word is out of your mouth before you even really think. It was a compulsion; your hind brain activating in a moment of desperation and giving you what you really wanted, and you could kick yourself. This is definitely going on the list, you just know it. Along with the ripped pants incident, that time you got far too drunk and ended up leaving a party with the model Dieter had his eye on all night, and whatever was going on with you two before you decided to - well. It was all on this list, and now it was going to be joined by this.

"No?"

"No, you don't need to cover up in front of me."

"Really? Amazing."

He's grinning. You don't even need to look at him to know he's grinning. You can hear the delight in his voice, borderline laughter in his chest as he scrubs a hand across his belly. You can't look anymore. You shouldn't look any more. "I'm gonna go sort this out."

"Because I know how much you like looking at my -"

"Shut up, Dieter."

And so it begins. Dieter bbs: @secretelephanttattoo @sp00kymulderr @schnarfer @freelancearsonist @fhatbhabie @chronically-ghosted

[auras-moonstone]

someone requested this but i lost it😫😫 the request asked me to write a story about reader being a streamer and jack and her meeting through one of mason’s streams. i hope you like it! 💖

locked up in your arms — jack champion

word count: 1,581

pairing: jack champion x streamer!fem!reader

summary: y/n’s crush gets exposed during her stream with mason, but luckily he feels the same.

Y/N HAD STARTED HER TWITCH CHANNEL PURELY FOR FUN, NEVER EXPECTING SO MUCH PEOPLE TO START FOLLOWING HER. She did pretty much everything—reactions to movies, music, chatting, occasionally gameplays. People were instantly drawn in by her charm, kindness and sense of humor.

And Mason Gooding had been one of them. He absolutely loved her channel, so when he saw Y/N was a huge fan of the Scream movies, he didn’t hesitate to reach out and asked her to do a stream with him. She, of course, said yes. The viewers loved their dynamic, and their shared streams became something they did weekly.

“You have gotten so much better at this game” Mason said as they finished playing Dead By Daylight.

Y/N grimaced “Sure, I still suck. I mean, my gaming experience starts and ends with the Sims”

Mason laughed, and was about to respond when the sound of his phone interrupted him. “Jack Champion just texted”

The girl gulped, hoping that the mic didn’t catch that. To say she had a crush on that actor was an understatement. Her face turned a dark shade of red, and prayed that it wouldn’t be that noticeable through the camera.

“He says, Mason tell the people I say you’re a sussy baka” the streamer read the text, trying not to laugh.

“Did he just say sussy baka?” Y/N pressed her lips together.

“Don’t make fun of my boy!” Mason warned her.

“I’m not! I thought it was ador- hilarious” holy shit she almost said he was adorable.

“And tell Y/N the Sims is a great game, and I bet she builds beautiful houses” Mason continued.

“I do build beautiful houses. Thank you, Jack!” she said, glad the stutter didn’t come into play.

oh god y/n is about to go into cardiac arrest

hey! don’t expose her lmaooo

girl is crushing hard

didn’t we know she had a crush on jack already??? have you seen her scream 6 reaction???

omg yes she totally thirsted over him for two hours straight.

Mason bursted out laughing at the comments. “I need to see your Scream reaction holy shit. Why did no one ever tell me?”

“They’re exaggerating” they weren’t. “And drop it! You’re not seeing the reaction”

“I so am” Mason said. “In fact, why don’t we react to your reaction?”

“Why don’t we end the stream and never talk again?” she frowned, acting annoyed.

“You’re so adorable!” he laughed. Mason actually thought she and Jack would make an excellent couple, and he was so going to make that happen. “Anyways, that was the end of an eventful stream. Now we gotta go, Y/N needs to put ice on her cheeks”

“I hate you” she said as she ended the video call.

Mason texted her a few minutes after the stream ended.

hey ur not mad at me, are u?

no, i’m not. i just am a little bit embarassed

now everyone knows about my crush

did jack say something? pls tell me he was not watching the stream anymore.

i don’t know. he didn’t say anything, so maybe he left before you exposed yourself

very funny

anyways he’s going to find out. people are for sure sending the clips 😫😫

why are you so worried?

it’s not like you’re going to meet him.

no i know

but idk, i don’t want him to think i’m a weirdo

for having a crush??

don’t be silly. he won’t, jack is the sweetest guy on earth.

okay fine

maybe you’re right

i’m overthinking as always :)

MASON ALMOST LET OUT A SCREAM OF EXCITEMENT WHEN THE TEXT ARRIVED. He had been pretty much hopeless about his plan, so he was caught off guard when Jack told him he was going to LA that weekend. Now, there was one last thing to do.

hey y/n/n

hey mason what’s up?

are you free this saturday??

yeah why?

devyn, jasmine and jenna are dying to meet you, so they told me to invite you :)

we’re doing a picnic!!

yess i’d love to!

GREAT I’M SO EXCITED

why?

BECAUSE😬😬

you’re so weird

thank you

see ya on saturday

Mason couldn’t shake the smile off his face as he opened the group chat he had with Jasmine, Jenna and Devyn.

she’s coming!!!

the ship is about to sail!!! 🚢

she’s going to hate me but it’ll be worthy

i still can’t believe how red she turned during the stream. she’s absolutely adorable

okay but can we talk about how smiley jack was when we showed him the clips???? he’s down bad too

that’s why i’m doing it. i wouldn’t if i weren’t sure they are attracted each other.

i can’t wait till saturday😫 they’re going to be so cute!!!!

he’s going to kill her with adorableness with his dad jokes

he already killed her with the sussy baka thing. i can’t believe he said that. he’s lucky he’s pretty

Y/N, AT THE SAME TIME MASON WAS TEXTING ON THE GROUP, OPENED THE MESSAGES APP. She had a huge smile on her face as she texted.

he really thinks he’s being a mastermind 😭😭😭 it’s so funny

i know 😭 i bet he’s planning everything on the gc with the girls. he has no idea. i feel powerful😎

you are so cute 😫 i can’t wait to hug tf out of you

cute? so, in your scream reactions you call me hot and say you’d be lucky to have been one of my victims and irl you call me CUTE? 🙄

you’re not ethan landry, jack

he’s top 1 on my love of my life list

what place am i in?

third

THIRD?? who’s second? 🥺

taylor swift

oh yeah. should’ve figured.

well, to make you feel bad, you’re in my top 1.

i don’t feel bad at all, jack

oh… well okay. i am totally fine being in your top 3, tbh. at least i made it.

NOW i feel bad😫

i really want to hug you, like the thought of it brings me butterflies

just a couple of hours left ❤️❤️

we have two entire days alone before we meet with the group

i can’t wait to see your pretty face in person🥹🥹

ughhhhhh

stop being so sweet when you’re not here😫😫

i’ll see you in exactly 8 hours :)

good night gorgeous 💕

night pretty boy 💖

Y/N STOOD IN FRONT OF THE METAL STAIRCASE, WITH A SIGN THAT SAID LOVE OF MY LIFE #3. She offered Jack to pick him up from the airport, so there she was, waiting anxiously for her boy.

She couldn’t believe it was actually happening. They had been talking for a while now—he sent her a dm only a few days after the stream, and had been talking non-stop ever since. Both of them have been open about their feelings for each other, as they were pretty obvious, and they basically acted like a couple. Even though that had never met in person, until now.

Jack’s heart stopped when he caught sight of the beautiful girl with the sign, which made him laugh a lot. He pushed through the people, muttering quick so sorry’s until he reached her. Y/N was looking up at him attentively, as if trying to take in every detail about him. The sparks in her eyes made his stomach go crazy.

“You’re real” he breathed.

“I mean, there’s this theory that we are actually characters in some big videogam-“

Jack grabbed her by the cheeks to pull her close to him, so their foreheads were touching. His smile could literally light up a whole town “You can tell me all about your interesting theories, which you know I love to hear. But right now I’m deciding if I should kiss you or hug you”

“In that order, please” she said, completely wonderstrucked by his close presence.

And so they kissed. Y/N found out Jack was a slow kisser, which she absolutely enjoyed because she never wanted that magnificent kiss to end. And Jack discovered Y/N was very touchy—her hands wouldn’t stay in just one place, but she explored every inch of visible skin.

“Now I want my hug” she said after a couple of seconds of trying to recover her breath. Jack threw his head back laughing before embracing her in the so awaited hug. “Yup, never leaving these arms” she squished her cheek against his chest.

The grip around her shoulders tightened “Thank god, cause I didn’t know how to tell you that you’re now forever trapped in here”.

“Um, could you please move?” one old woman said.

Y/N sighed as they pulled away “Taylor Swift was right when she said forever is the sweetest con”

“I’m sorry. You two are really adorable but I want to get home already” the woman said.

“No, it’s okay. We’re sorry” Y/N smiled kindly.

“Let us help you with your baggage” Jack offered, taking one of the suitcases while Y/N grabbed one of her bags.

“How long have you two been together?” the woman asked as they walked her to a taxi.

“Oh-uh…” Y/N wasn’t sure what to say. She wanted to think they were together even though they never said the word ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’.

“Three months” Jack spoke up. “We live in different states, but we talk everyday. We never made it official, but in case you were wondering, and this is for you too Y/N/N, I feel that we are a couple”

The woman looked at Y/N, waiting for her answer. The girl smiled brightly, feeling the weight of her heart evaporating “I feel that way too, Jack”.

[lightseoul]

can you make one for number 4? (⁠^⁠^⁠)

sure, i can! thank you for participating, sweetheart <3 hope you like this one—it was fun to write!

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

4. "DO I MAKE YOU NERVOUS?" (0.8k)

you pad your way to your small living room, two mugs of hot chamomile tea in tow, diligently trying not to spill any on your pristine, tiled floor.

but not as much as you’re trying to steady your hammering heart.

the perpetrator of your impending cardiac arrest remains unaware of your plight, however, seemingly relaxed with his right arm resting on top of the backrest of your two-seater couch.

upon seeing you approaching, he sits up ever so minutely, but his arm stays put.

“thanks,” he mumbles as you carefully place the beverages on the tiny coffee table in front of you.

“sure,” you retort, voice pathetically wobbly, and for a second you just stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to do with yourself.

bakugou’s eyes drift up to look at you, questioning. “aren’t you going to sit?”

“r-right!”

gingerly, you plop yourself down beside the man, purposefully making sure there’s an appropriate enough distance between the two of you.

a few moments pass with neither of you saying anything, the air so unusually tense you could cut it with a meat cleaver. you find yourself toying with the hem of the boxer shorts you hastily threw on while bakugou did his business in your comfort room upon your arrival at your apartment unit.

the very unit he’s visiting for the first time.

with tonight being the first either of you has ever visited the other’s home.

alone.

so, yeah—maybe the looming heart attack is a bit warranted.

“…this is your place, right?”

your face contorts in a mix of offense and confusion before you can think better against it. “of course, it is!”

“then why do you look so fucking stiff?”

at the call out, it suddenly dawns on you how tense your body is, spine straight in a rare occurrence of you having good posture. you roll your shoulders back in an attempt to relax a little, still finding yourself unable to look the pro-hero in the eye.

beside you, bakugou huffs, before muttering: “and are you saving some space for the holy spirit, or something? fucking glued to the armrest…”

you can’t help it—you snort at his petulant comment. this grants you a light shove from the man, who doesn’t need to move much to do so what with his wingspan being abnormally wide.

“quit laughing at me, dumbass.”

it takes you a few more seconds to get the chuckles out, and you’re finally lulled into a comfortable silence soon after. mustering the courage, you chance a glance at bakugou, who’s apparently already been looking at you.

“what?” you ask, feeling overly self-conscious.

he studies you for a while longer. “are you really going to sit like that for the rest of the night?”

you’re really going to have that fucking stroke.

“why?” you manage to get out, “where do you want me to sit?”

again, bakugou lets out an exasperated sigh, as if this entire exchange is tiring him out. “do you need me to spell it out? get fucking closer.”

before you even get the chance to get flustered at his command, bakugou grabs you by the hip with one, strong hand, unceremoniously pulling you flush against his firm chest.

instantly, you feel yourself flame in embarrassment, mind barely registering the brazen display of confidence and strength. you find yourself trying not to focus too much on the comforting heat radiating off his frame, or how his toned torso feels so solid against your skin.

or, perhaps most importantly, the fact that he just doesn’t seem to get nervous around you as you do around him.

you don’t get to dig too deep into that, though, because bakugou reaches out and gently tugs your head down against his chest, effectively snapping you out of your trance.

but that’s when you hear—and feel—it.

stunned, you jolt away from the man, who startles ever so slightly you would’ve missed it if it weren’t for the way you’re staring at him in absolute shock.

“what the f—”

“do i make you nervous?” you blurt out before you can talk yourself out of it.

bakugou’s face scrunches up, “what?”

“your heart’s beating so fast,” you point out. “or at least i think it is.”

bakugou doesn’t say anything for what feels like an hour, before he throws his hands up and turns away from you, opting to face the TV instead. “so fucking what. sue me.”

you can’t help the grin that takes over your face at the sight, a tinge of pink now resting on the high planes of the pro-hero’s cheeks.

bakugou side-eyes you, face sullen, “the fuck are you grinning about?”

“nothing,” you sing-song, looping your arm around his in a burst of new-found confidence. “just found out i make pro-hero dynamight nervous.”

at that, he scoffs. “that’s hardly an achievement, dumbass. i’m your fucking boyfriend.”

[everytimewetouch-dot-mp3]

modern bingyuan ft. werewolf luo binghe and human shen yuan (listen i have a brain disease (autism that is omegaverse and werewolf flavored) okay, i cant help it)

binghe’s pack:

mobei jun, his second-in-command

shang qinghua, mobei jun’s mate pet human

sha hualing, nasty bitch (affectionate) who comes in clutch during territory disputes and shit

various underlings

(tangential pack members: tianlang jun and zhuzhi-lang, by virtue of bing lbh’s relatives. tlj was meant to be the pack’s alpha, but didn’t have much interest in leadership)

vague story ideas below the cut:

shen yuan moves to the same city as sqh to be closer to physicians that specialize in his medical condition. sqh initially seems really excited to meet in person, then puts it off again and again until shen yuan calls him from the hospital like ‘dude listen i know u maybe don’t actually want to meet irl but im gonna be in the hospital for a few days and im bored out of my skull, can u just bring me some games or smth and leave them at the nurses’ station’

sqh feels bad for putting off the hangout for so long, so he brings the games, the nurse directs him to shen yuan’s room, and here we meet mbj who’s curious abt who’s been bugging sqh to hang out for the past couple weeks. after that, sqh comes to visit shen yuan in the hospital every day while he’s there. he bitches about it, but it’s friendly bitching.

meanwhile sqh and mbj keep showing up to pack stuff smelling like human—one specific human. and he smells good, at least in lbh’s opinion. so he gets curious and keeps bugging qinghua to introduce him to this sweet-smelling human. ofc, he makes it seem like he’s suspicious of the human who’s suddenly started hanging around his second. sqh finally gives in and invites shen yuan to hang out with his other friends (shen yuan is very excited and extremely anxious).

binghe is immediately obsessed. shen yuan is smart and funny and a little rude, even though it doesn’t seem like he means to be, and he smells so fucking good it’s unreal. lbh doesn’t let hualing bully shen yuan, which is out of character for him nice. mobei jun tacitly approves of him, qinghua is already his friend, and hualing doesn’t try to kill him within 20 mins of meeting, so it’s p much a success. there’s one point where shen yuan’s scent suddenly turns sour from pain and the werewolves all pause, but qinghua keeps yapping on and the only sign shen yuan gives of being in pain is a tightening of his jaw and a deep, sharp inhale through the nose

after shen yuan goes home, mobei jun tells binghe that shen yuan had been in the hospital but wouldn’t say what for; he assumes shen yuan was injured somehow? but every few hangouts, shen yuan’s scent does that thing again. binghe and he have been getting closer, and eventually for some reason or another (tianlang jun or zhuzhi lang, maybe?) he’s pressured into revealing that he’s a werewolf. also at some vague, hand-wavy time, shen yuan explains that he’s not injured, he’s just got heart problems

shen yuan’s got a hand-wavy heart condition inspired by long QT; he moved because he went into cardiac arrest during a regular hospital visit and his family was like ‘ok we thought this was managed but u now need to see the best specialists in the country’ and the specialists were like ‘ok you’re getting an implantable cardiac defibrillator like yesterday; why didnt they do that after your heart stopped last time???????’ which is why he was in the hospital

anyways blah blah maybe somebody kidnaps shen yuan to get to luo binghe or smth like that, binghe goes all badass bingge mode and kills some people, and then they fuck nasty (but also tenderly!!!) and they live happily ever after

[irllyroundballs]

Meeting genshin men at your local grocery store?!

Childe, Itto, Kaeya, Alhaitham, Ayato x Reader

To be honest, the job itself wasn’t too bad. Pretty normal actually. Aside from the few weirdos that have been walking in lately..

Inspired by @abyssruler’s 7/11 Diaries! (One again written in the depths of night, so I apologize for the errors and tbh it’s kinda bad 😰)

Childe:

You could do this! Self belief! Stay awake! Your shift was almost done, 2am on the clock and two more hours to go. Everything was pretty mundane, occasionally mopping the floor, checking the stock, handling the (basically unused) register— all mundane with the lack of people. But today a real odd ball walked in: ginger hair, roughed clothing, tussled hair, and oh- the massive nose bleed dripping down onto his clothes.

He walks through the store so calmly - it’s almost startlingly - he strolls through the isles putting random items, then walks up to the counter. He grins, "Well hello there, I didn’t know such a pretty thing would be working at a time like this." He says, all while blood is still dripping down his nose.

You blink once, you blink twice, you take the basket and start scanning, "It’s too early in the morning for this.." You mumble, tired eyes fumbling with the unreasonably items. The prices of each individual item would send you into cardiac arrest, but all in all? Fucking nuts. How does he even have money? Have you seen the economics state of the world?

Your words only make him laugh, as you look up at him your gaze fuses on his bloody nose, "You’re bleeding."

"I know." He smiles.

"O," You blink slowly once more. "Want a tissues or something?”

He raises a brow, "Ha! You’re pretty funny, you know! Most workers get scared!" He laughs, watching intently as you pack away his items handing them to him.

You look him in the eyes, "I don’t get paid enough."

From that day since he’d often come to the store chatting with you, all while buying odd products. At this point you were starting to think it’s all to speak with you, I mean— Instant rice and pickles? You raised a brow, almost like a mind reader he spoke,

"My friend dropped his phone in the toilet so we’re doing the rice method, and the pickles is for me, nice snack."

Isn’t the rice method supposed to be bad? “Why don’t you just go to a repair shop?"

"Hes quirky like that."

"Just leave."

At some point you started seeing him outside the shop, he also goes to the same university as you. Which did make sense seeing at though he looked your age, but what surprised you the most is that he’s pretty well know. So now you started to wonder how you hadn’t heard about him. Maybe it’s because you have no friends— that’s a problem. You’ll need some of those.. you guess. Now that you think about it, you never got his name. How odd.

Itto:

It was very much valid for you to assume that the man before you was drunk. He was awfully loud (so much so you could hear him from five blocks down), he talked funny, and so did he act the same.

As you tiredly rub your eyes you to try shake yourself awake, there was still so much time until work was over. And with the shouting going on outside it was actually quite easy, most would be worried of a murder being what’s taking place outside but it was awfully normal for such screams, also the sound of drunk laughter easily disproves the thought of murder. A man -easily 7ft tall, White hair, super buff, his hair oddly whisked - trudges in, panic written all over his face. "WHERE IS YOUR RICE?" He asked anxiously.

"Excuse me?"

"I NEED RICE FOR MY PHONE." He jumped around in place, you point him towards the section and he runs off, few of his friends snicker while some look worried.

You wait around at the counter, it takes him a few minutes to gather what he needs, next time he comeback he has at least four small bags of rice and bandages. As you ring him up you hear the man speak with his friends,

"Do you think it’ll work?" One of his friends ask.

"I think so! I got the premium rice, and I think the bandages will work too!" He smiles.

"For.. your phone?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing.." his friends mumble, stifling a laugh.

You simply shake your head at such idiocy, but then again you can understand, repair shops are unbelievably expensive and half the time it gets even more broken. But your action seems to have caught the man’s attention, gawking he turns to his friends, “THEYRE SO HOT.”

From that day forward he constantly visited the shop, goofing around in the store in attempts to get your number.

"So, you like jazz?" He has this odd smirk on his face, almost as if that was his attempt to finesse you.

"Yes."

"Ah. You were supposed to say no."

"Sorry?"

Soon, Itto (his name, he had written it on a piece of paper and whilst paying for his newest purchase slipped it in) started being able to spot you on campus, following you around like a lost puppy. Perhaps you’ll slip in your number next time you give him change.. perhaps.

Kaeya:

To Kaeya you were hot, really fucking hot. Though you were kinda invisible that added to your charm, that or he just had a thing for total losers, he couldn’t tell. And for the most part you weren’t entire invisible, often seeing your name on the first board after grades come out, or even seeing you enrolled in competitions, or he’d see you studying in the library - looking so adorable- writing away at your notes. He thought you were utterly ethereal, and the need to get to know you was insatiable. His friends quite literally needing to hold him down from running up to you and scaring you away. So come to find out lovely ol’ you works at one of his favourite convince place he already had a plan brewing.

You drearily watch the clock, your body feeling as if it's numb. Your hands lazily drawing circles on the counter, starting to regret the fact you decided to work the graveyard shift. The ringing of the store bell waking you from your hazziness, a man dressed nicely came in: blue hair, blue eyes (odd combo, to be completely honest), dressed in what looked like ballroom clothing, his expression of.. smugness? Unyielding.

As you wait to ring him up you take out your phone and start scrolling through it, but soon you here light steps approaching placing your phone back in your pocket and take the items and start scanning. All as you do so the man watches you intently, and little too much.

”Can I help you with something, Sir?"

He raises a brow, "Sir? You don't think I'm that old, do you?!" He cried.

"No, Sir. I'm required to do this."

"So you think I look nice?"

"Sure."

"Would you go out with me?" Was that really his attempt at rizzing you up?

"Please just take your items and leave, Sir." (I'm saving you the embarrassment -and myjob-)

He couldn't stand it, no, he was determined-- he will rizz you up. You have to give him a chance! And so whenever you had a free moment you would see him walk up to you, it’s not that you minded his unbreaking tenacity, it was quite admirable actually.

"Hey!" He ran up to you, waving his hand. He stops in front of you weaving, "Trying to run away from me?"

"No. I’m hungry."

"Ah! The allow me to do the pleasure and buy you lunch."

"If you have money, sure.”

You were oh so happy, free food truly did taste the best. So while he got to know you you got full - and happy - tummy. Maybe you’ll actually let him take you out.

Al Haitham:

See, typically you were fine with customers, but this time you were utterly enthralled by this.. this asshole with a stick up his ass. You’d love to hop over the counter and give him a wack, but you refrain from doing so— he looked rich, and he was buff, you most definitely could not take him in a fight.

"It’s 14.55."

"I’m aware."

"I am in a rush, please let me pay already."

"Im sorry, Sir. I’m required to ring this all up."

"But I already told you, it’s 14.55." His eyes looked a bit agitated, his arms crossed.

"Sir, I am just doing my job."

"K."

To be honest, you didn’t really know what was coming out of his mouth after that, nor did you care, you simply nod, most of the “conversation” you looked at his.. uh, breast(s) pocket. You’d never see him again, what’s the harm?

You were wrong, so undeniably, unbelievably, wrong. Exactly 5 hours later you’d see him at the gym, staring at you, approaching you- wait, approaching you?? You look around the room, what do you do? How do you seem like you’re busy? Pull out you pho-?!

"Hey."

"Hello..? Do you need something?"

"Do you need help?"

"No."

"I’m helping you anyway."

"O."

And workout buddies you came to be, often meeting him during your workout sessions. You never really needed his help, but with his insistence you agreed. Sometimes even studying together.

"Are you stupid?"

"I think so, I’ve been talking with my doctor lately and-"

"I didn’t mean it literally."

"Ah."

With exams coming up you’ve been seeing each other a lot more, and the study areas have been a lot more.. romantic? Close, cool mood lighting, cold- sometimes even his own house. But then again, maybe it’s just you.

Ayato:

This was absolutely fucking nuts. This guy was decked out— SO BAD. The Ayato Kamisato, one of the richest bachelors was before you, you couldn’t help but be a bad bit taken back. But regardless you tried your best to scan all his odd items.

For a hot bachelor his grocery items were really weird, and so fucking expensive you felt your heart clench.. you’ll need a break after this, maybe even a smoke (you’ve never smoked in your life and if you were to you were pretty sure you’d have an asthma attack).

His gaze wondered you curiously, has you handed him his groceries he smiled, leaving a.. 100$ TIP?? WHAT THE FUCK. WHERE DOES HE GET THIS MONEY? I THOUGHT WE WERE IN A RESCISSION. WHAT. Your eyes were massive, looking back up at him, "Uhm, Sir. I think you misplaced this bill.." as much as you wanted to keep it, you had morals (sadly), holding yourself to high principle.

"Oh, that was no mistake. I appreciate the fact someone like you is working at such an hour. Have a lovely morning." He waved and left.. someone like me? Is that an insult? Does he think I’m poor?

As you pondered what he meant you started seeing him more, and more. Always leaving a massive tip, does god.. love me? Your reactions always brining a smile to his face, and conversations with you always left him with a swelling in his chest, you were awfully funny.

"Here, a tip."

"Am I.. in more debt?" You tilt your head, "Do you want something from me?" Your eyes widen, "Is this perhaps your way of buying me? Is that what rich people do..? That’s what’s I heard.." mumbling the last part you look into the floor, bringing your hand up to fumble with your lip- in deep concentration.

He was so weird, people said he was cool. From what you can tell all he is a weirdo. Who tips this much? Who buys this much weird stuff? Isn’t he rich? Why doesn't he just get someone to get him groceries? Why does he look at you weird? Honestly, if he kept giving you this much money you might as well become his sugar baby (not that you would mind).