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#i think it turned out alright as is i just know i can do better
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MISS YOU — rafe cameron (smut, angst, nsfw)
pairing; ex-boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader summary: years after your breakup, rafe cameron crawls back into your life when he realises that you might have started moving on. a/n: omg this was so long i think i got carried away warnings: smut 18+, a LOT of angst, mdni, fingering, oral (f receiving), name calling, unprotected sex.
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He does not knock.
Rafe Cameron barges into your dimly lit apartment instead of knocking the door and allowing you to let him in. He walks right past you, ignoring the frown on your face, and collapses down on your couch.
His shoulders are relaxed, arms stretched out along the back of the couch as he settles in and looks around your apartment.
His blue eyes are dart everywhere, but they don’t meet yours. His veiny hands are tapping away on his thighs—the same hands that used to envelope yours perfectly.
His blonde hair is longer than it was when you two were together—they're curling over his forehead. The length is almost too long, it makes him look shaggy, and yet it suits him nevertheless.
Your fists clench. Suddenly, the warmth of your home has vanished because of his presence.
"Are you going to stand there all night?" His voice is raspy and rough, almost as if he had just woken up, but you can tell from his red eyes and the dark circles underneath that he hasn't slept a wink.
"What do you want, Rafe?"
He finally turns his gaze to you, and the sight makes your knees go weak. You want to sit down next to him and bury your head into his chest, but you know that can't happen anymore.
He stands up, making you take a step back. You don't miss the hurt look in his eyes, but he hides it quickly and walks towards you.
The light coming out of the television playing in the background illuminates Rafe's face, his jawline sharp and his lips pulled in a soft frown.
He walks past you, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.
"What the hell?" You murmur, following him as he walks towards the kitchen.
He halts to a stop and you stand behind him, feeling like a mouse in his tall presence. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
He rolls his eyes and turns around to face you. His eyes stare into yours, resulting in the formation of a lump in your throat as your eyes meet for the first time in years.
“Who is he?” Rafe asks bitterly, his eyes not leaving your face. “The guy you were with yesterday at the Golf Club. Even better, where is he?"
Yesterday, your date made a reservation at the Golf Club for your first date, and the smug part of you had wished the Rafe saw the two of you together—which he apparently did.
You had a good time with the boy. He even dropped you off to your house afterwards. He was sweet, polite and soft-spoken. The complete opposite of your ex-boyfriend.
"Rafe, leave."
He scoffs, running his tongue along his inner-cheek. His eyes still burn into yours.
He brings a cold finger to your face and the metal of his ring faintly touches your cheek. You suck in a deep breath as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
You look away from him, unable to stand the intensity of his eyes. You know what he wants, and you won't allow yourself to give in to him.
Almost turning away, you feel him grab your face and force you to look at him. He's staring down at you in a way that makes your heart dip.
You can't believe you used to know this man, can't believe you shared the same bed with him and loved him so unconditionally.
His eyes drop down to your lips, and then back up to your eyes. "Kiss me."
It's your turn to scoff. You try to pry his hand off your face, but he doesn't bulge. He simply leans his face closer to yours, the faint smell of alcohol and cigarettes enveloping your nose.
"Don't tell me that you don't miss it," his thumb moves against your cheek. "I've thought about you every night since the day we broke up. You know, you're the only thing that stays on my mind."
"Rafe—"
"No," his jaw is clenched. "Let me finish, alright? I-I can't eat, I can't sleep. I'm fucking useless without you. I need you."
You push his chest away from you. "And whose fault is that, huh?"
"Please," his voice cracks. "Baby, please."
"Oh my god, just-just stop this, okay? Rafe, you didn't even remember our anniversary! The whole day you were getting high with B-"
"I don't care!" He shouts, interrupting you. "I don't care, okay? I just need you, and you need me too! Tell me you don't miss me and I'll leave."
You sigh, rubbing your face. You want to yell at him, but his presence and words make you weak.
He knows that he has an effect on you. He knows how easily he can manipulate you and bend you to his will.
But you gather yourself. You shake your head and seethe through your teeth, "Go fuck yourself, Rafe. Get out, right now. Or I swear to god, I will call the police."
He chuckles lowly. "And tell them what, baby? That Rafe Cameron came into your house and refused to leave? Please, call the police. It'll just make things easier."
"Get. Out." You point towards the door. "Go back to her, Rafe. The bimbo who's always on your arm."
He groans, his voice low and guttural. "She's not you, okay? She doesn't fucking get me. Only you do."
"You're a piece of shit."
He takes a step closer to you, if that was even possible.
"I'm a piece of shit? Do you hear yourself?" He's towering over you. His hands are gripping your arms.
You push his chest again and step back, only to bump into the wall behind.
He, too, takes a step back, running a hand through his hair. He laughs and looks down at his feet. "Fine. You wanna play this game, huh?"
He starts walking towards you, and suddenly your feet are glued to the floor.
You feel his warmth against your body before his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your bodies are pressed against each other's.
You feel him run a finger down the length of your jaw.
You try to fight back the urge to moan at his touch. You want to push him away, but his touch makes you melt. It's been too long. Too long since he's been this close.
"Fuck you." You say, and your shaky voice doesn't go unnoticed by him. "And let go of me."
He ignores you.
He presses his forehead against yours, and your breath hitches in your throat.
You can't stop thinking about how much you want his lips on yours. How much you want him to not listen to your complaints and just fucking kiss you.
His breath hits your lips as his eyes search your face. "Tell me you don't miss me. Tell me you don't miss this," He whispers, his right-hand snaking up your body until it's resting right below your breast.
"I'll leave right now," he says, "and never come back. We can go our separate ways and live the rest of our lives separately. And then, ten years from now, you'll be at a children’s park and you'll see me and think, 'Wow. Rafe Cameron is hot.'"
"I-"
"Or," he pauses, his hand sliding down to your ass. "You can just stop being in denial and admit that you need me just as much as I need you."
His grip on you is tight, and his blue eyes are boring into yours. His breathing has quickened, and so has yours.
His face is mere centimetres away from yours at this point, and his eyes are digging holes in you. You feel his erection against your thigh, and the knowledge that he's aroused makes your brain go haywire.
"Say you fucking want me. I'm yours, alright? Just fucking say it." He's so close to you that you can taste his breathe.
You're at war with yourself. A part of you is screaming to kick him out, but the other part wants him to stay.
His grip on you tightens.
"I hate you." You murmur.
And then his lips are on yours.
The kiss isn’t soft and loving. It's harsh and needy, but it feels so right.
All protests, all thoughts and all the mixed feelings die down when he shifts his hand to your throat and squeezes it. With his other hand, he pulls up your thigh to his waist.
Your lips move together sloppily, his tongue darting into your mouth.
You feel him lift you up and walk over to your bedroom, his grip on you never loosening.
Your arms wrap around his neck, his tongue moves against yours, and all the feelings make you moan against his lips.
He breaks the kiss and pushes the door open with his foot, the dim light in the room allowing you to see the outline of his face.
He's breathing heavily. His eyes are dark with lust and his pupils are dilated.
You don't know what's gotten into him. Maybe the years apart have driven him crazy. But all that doesn't matter because right now he's kissing you like it's the end of the world, and you're letting him.
Your lips collide together again, and this time, it's different. It's more passionate and slow, and he kisses you in a way no one has ever kissed you before.
He lays you down on the bed and crawls on top of you.
You expect him to take control and dominate, but instead, he rests his head against the crook of your neck, his breathing hot on your skin.
"I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispers as he kisses the side of your neck.
You're speechless. Your brain is telling you to shove him off, but your heart and body are telling you something else.
The lump in your throat has returned, and your eyes are starting to burn.
But before you can say anything in response, he rushes back to your lips, and you lose yourself in him.
His lips move hungrily against yours. You can taste the saltiness of his tears, and the thought of Rafe Cameron crying makes the knot in your stomach tighten.
His hips are pressed firmly against yours, his erection digging into your inner thigh.
The kiss is passionate, but there's a hint of possessiveness in the way he grips the side of your face.
His hand trails down your body, his fingertips roughly pushing against the fabric of your shirt making you whimper.
"I missed you so much, baby." He whispers.
Then he's sucking your lips, nibbling, and kissing. He's all over you.
Your hands tug at the hem of his shirt, and he lifts himself off of you, straddling you as he helps you pull his shirt off.
He's still the same; toned, sculpted, and ripped. You can't help but stare.
You run your fingers down his chest, and your eyes shut.
He's beautiful, and you've missed him so much.
He starts trailing kisses down your neck, sucking and leaving dark marks.
You moan breathily when he sucks on the sweet spot beneath your ear.
You were supposed to stand your ground, but fuck, you need him. You need him the same way you did when he first made love to you.
"Rafe," your voice comes out breathy, "I want you."
His hand is on your stomach, moving upward. He pulls his head back, and you see the desperation in his eyes.
"Fuck, say it again," he kisses the tip of your nose. "Tell me that you're mine."
"I'm yours." You shakily murmur. "Only yours."
He only groans in response. His lips capture yours again, making a gasp come out of your mouth—which he greedily swallows.
A piteous whimper slips past your lips when you feel your wetness coating your panties and rubbing against Rafe's pants.
But he still doesn't do anything to relieve the ache between your thighs. You buck your hips discreetly to grind against his covered dick, but he simply slaps your thigh, making you yelp.
He positions himself in between your legs, both of your parts still clothed; the fabric against your wet skin making you whimper.
You moan, grasping his bicep when his fingers trace along your underwear teasingly.
"Does he make you this wet?" He asks before pulling your underwear off and running his fingers past your exposed clit.
Your brain is so fucked up that silence is your only answer.
“Answer me or I swear to fucking God I'll leave you like this,” he says, slapping your thigh and making you gasp.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you reply annoyedly, "Just fucking-"
Suddenly, all heat disappears from above you. Your eyes snap open. The sight of Rafe clenching his jaw and pulling himself away from you makes you hurriedly reach out for him.
You stutter, “Wait-wait, wait, Rafe, baby, please.”
You tug at his arm, pulling him back down on top of you.
"I need you. Please. Please just fuck me."
"You're so pathetic." He chuckles, clicking his tongue before his hands are taking his shirt off, followed by your shirt being thrown somewhere in the room.
He diverts his attention to your tits, trailing wet kisses on each of them. You let out a satisfactory sigh as he continues wrapping and unwrapping his lips around your nipples.
He goes further down and presses kisses along your stomach.
Before you can react, he buries his face between your thighs. Your back arches, a hand on his soft hair as the other grips the pillow next to you, “Oh, fuck."
He practically devours you, looking up every two seconds to meet your blown eyes. He pushes your legs up, making them almost touch your shoulders. You gasp, tightening your grip on his hair as he continues to eat you out.
Your hands are everywhere, trying to hold anything that can make the storm in your stomach calmer.
Rafe slowly releases his tight grip on your legs before sliding his fingers into you. Your eyes squeeze shut.
Your hips slightly buck upwards, but Rafe shoves you down with his free hand.
His fingers are thrusting into you at a brutal pace, his tongue doing wonders right along them.
He detaches his lips off your pussy, but his fingers are still in you.
"Does he-does he touch you as good as I do? Does he make you as wet as I do?" Rafe asks as he leans over you. The hand that had shoved you down is now wrapped around your throat as he presses, making you choke. "No, he fucking doesn't. Only I make you feel this good, yeah?"
He doesn't expect you to say something because he knows that he's saying the truth. He’s the only person who can turn you into a mess.
"Oh my god, Rafe, right there." You moan as he curls his fingers deeper into you.
"Answer me, does he fuck you up as good as I do?"
You roll your eyes at the question he's asking for the nth time now, "Yeah, yeah he does." You reply absent-mindedly.
"What the fuck?" He exclaims, immediately pulling his fingers out of you. He pushes his fingers into your mouth, so deep that it makes you gag.
"You know what, I'll fucking treat you like a whore." He says, his fingers still deep in your mouth. "I thought I'd be nice to you after all these years, but you always have to be a bitch, don't you?"
With one hand, he clumsily pulls off his pants and underwear.
You moan as you feel him drag the tip of his cock over your pussy. He teasingly does so for a few more seconds before meeting your eyes and smirking at you.
"I'm going to fucking ruin you." He mumbles. "Show your boyfriend the bruises I give you, alright?"
And when he pushes his dick in, he makes sure to look down at how your walls envelope him perfectly even after all these years.
"Oh, holy fucking shit." You gasp when his hips thrust forward and go deeper into you.
Rafe drops his head on your shoulder as he sets a pace. "I fucking missed this. I missed fucking you- oh shit." He breathes into your shoulder.
Your eyes roll back into your head, your body budding with the pleasure his thrusts give you.
"Right there." You breathe.
"You never learn, do you?" He says. Swiftly, Rafe pulls out of you and flips you over so that you're on your stomach. "You're a whore. But only mine, baby."
Then he harshly thrusts back into you, making a pathetic moan leave your lips. His hands grip your waist as he pounds into you.
He wraps his arms around your stomach and pulls you flush into his sweaty chest, tipping your head up to pull you into a messy kiss. Your teeth and tongues clash uncomfortably, but neither of you give a fuck.
His lips detach from yours, and he buries his forehead into the back of your neck.
"You're squeezing me the fuck out," He moans out.
The new position makes you moan, your hands shifting from being vacant to grabbing your tits as he pushes himself deeper and deeper into you.
The sight of you touching yourself results in Rafe letting out a loud groan. His hand leaves your hair and slides down the front of your body to rub your clit.
The new fervour makes your legs shudder, "Fuck, I'm close." You mumble, leaning your head on his shoulder.
He nods frantically—having waited for this moment for years now.
"Cum for me, yeah. Cum all over me, baby. Need you." Rafe breathes out, thrusting harder into you.
In response, your back arches with a high. A loud moan escaping your lips and white dots blurring your vision as you release all over him.
Rafe fucks you through your orgasm—chasing his own with wild thrusts. “Oh, fuck, fuck."
You can feel his high approaching as he grips you tighter. He thrusts into you harshly, desperate for his release.
He throws his head back with a loud groan and a long string of curses when his hips falter and he's covering your insides with his cum.
The two of you are a gasping mess when you lay down on the bed.
You both stay there for moment, breathing in each other's scent. He traces your body, as if to memorise every inch.
When Rafe pulls away from you, it's like he's pulling your heart out too.
Because you know that this was just another night for him.
When Rafe cleans you up and covers you up with a blanket, he fails to cover the ache of your heart.
Because you know that the bed he'll be returning to won't be yours; but the other woman's.
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luveline · 11 hours
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hi miss lovely jade <3 can i be an absolute nuisance and request shy!reader who is to afraid to ask for cuddles from either remus or sirius? you can choose if this is a request that floats your boat! either way thank you for your wonderful writing <3
Remus lays on his side on the sofa. His arms are too heavy to keep reading, one numb under his body, the other not long enough to touch your back. 
“I’m too tired to read,” he tells you. 
“I could read to you.” 
Remus shuffles to the edge of the sofa, fingertips rolling down your arm. “Too tired to listen.” 
You fluster with your cheek to your shoulder, distracted from your own book completely. He hadn’t meant to drag you away, but he had. He’s selfish occasionally. 
Upstairs, James and Lily watch a movie, the soundtrack loud and echoing through the ceiling. Remus searches for the remote for the living room TV thinking that perhaps he can get you to recreate their evening. They spend almost every night cuddling, Remus has seen it enough times to guess that that’s what they’re doing now. 
You don’t cuddle much, but Remus has a theory that you want to. You get a little cagey, like, you’re so shy that being caught wanting it will embarrass you. You get cagey all the time. If you’re hungry, you can’t bear to mention dinner. If you want to hold his hand, you look anywhere but his fingers. And when you want to hug him, lay against his chest with his lips and nose turned against your cheek, you sit at the coffee table and curl away. 
He knows you adore him, you tell him often even with your timidity. You’re sweet like that, willing to beget a nervous sweat if it means Remus feels loved. 
But how can he convince you into his arms? 
“Baby,” he murmurs, wondering if that’s a pet name you won’t like. 
You turn to him slowly. “Yeah?” 
“Let’s buy a movie on the box office.” Remus pulls his hand back, catches your eyes where they follow longingly. “There’s loads of new ones on there.” 
“Okay, yeah. I’ll pay for it.” 
“No, I’ll pay for it, don’t be silly. Just come up here and pick one.” 
You hesitate. “Is there room?” 
Remus rolls far back into the sofa. “Right here.” 
“Are you sure?” 
He doesn’t say Am I sure? Because of course he is, but his incredulity doesn’t help anyone. You’re asking for a reason. 
“Yeah, there’s room. I’ll just have to curl my arm under you to make sure I don’t accidentally push you back off,” he says. “But that’s better for me, we can cwtch.” 
You give a small smile. “Cwtch,” you echo, murmuring as you climb onto the sofa. He leans back, letting out a contented groan as you settle against him, and he pulls you in. 
Here, Remus could affirm to you that cuddles are meant to be given and often, could say, Was that so hard to do? but he doesn’t find much pleasure in invalidating you. It is hard for you. He just has to show you that he can read you. He trusts in time you’ll learn to ask for what you want. 
“Alright?” he asks. 
“Yeah.” Your smile is audible. “Perfect.” 
“Okay, good. Here, lovely, have the remote.”
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misctf · 1 day
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Make it Make Sense
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Adam sat at his computer, finishing up a calculus assignment. He was trying to stay focused, but his thoughts shifted to his weekend plans. A few of his buddies were going to get together to see the football game, and he was looking forward to his club soccer game on Sunday. For all intents and purposes, it was going to be perfect.
“Are you serious?” The nasally voice of Adam’s roommate interrupts his thoughts, “I don’t understand, this doesn’t make sense.” Kelvin says, irritation soaking his words.
“What’s wrong?” Adam asks, turning towards his nerdy roommate. There were nerds and then there’s Kelvin. At first, he was relieved to have a roommate that was going to focus on their studies. But Kelvin proved to be more of a distraction than he could’ve ever expected.
“You know what’s wrong!” Kelvin says, “Look!” He slams his most recent lab report on Adam’s desk, “A 91%! That’s an A-.” He grumbles.
“That’s a great grade.”
“No, no, no! You got a 96%!” He continues, “How did you get a higher grade than me?”
You shrug, “It’s not that big of a deal. You’ll do better next time. And I know people that would kill for that grade.” Adam says, turning back to his assignment.
“No. That still doesn’t answer my question.” Kelvin adjusts his glasses, “How did you get a better grade?”
Adam runs a hand through his brunette hair, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re not supposed to be smart.” Kelvin retorts, “You like football and you play sports. Smart people don’t do that.” Adam raises an eyebrow, “You can’t be both.”
Adam chuckles, “Both?”
“A nerd and a jock!”
Adam smirks, “Alright, well why can’t I be both?”
“You can only be one.” Kelvin insists.
“Only one?” Adam chuckles. He wasn’t what one would consider a jock. Nor was he a total nerd. He always felt he was somewhere in the middle, “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not much of either. What do you think?”
Kelvin gave his roommate a curious look, clearly thinking hard about the question. He slowly smiles.
“Well, I guess all jocks have big muscles. And I mean, those are certainly impressive.”
Adam raises an eyebrow and looks down at himself. He could see his biceps and triceps putting strain on his shirt. And his pecs seemed to be jutting out a bit more than he was used to. He lifts a hand and feels his muscular chest. It felt unfamiliar to him.
“What...?”
“And I guess it makes sense that you never wear a shirt. Jocks hate hiding their muscles.”
The chill of the room air tickled Adam’s skin, his eyes narrowing as his bare torso is on full display. Wasn’t he just wearing a shirt? He looks up at Kelvin, clearly trying to make sense of what was going on.
“Wow, I mean, I knew your muscles were big, but now I can really see them.”
Adam grunted as his musculature expands. His pecs filling with more muscle, while his biceps and triceps grew larger and larger. He let out a pained grunt as his shoulders broaden and his back fills with muscle. He frame a now hulking mass of manly muscle.
“And I always found it odd how often you shaved your body hair. Always going on about how being clean shaven helps highlight your pecs.”
Adam looked down and watched as his dusting of chest and belly hairs vanish. His skin now clean-shaven and slowly staining with a rich tan. A tan he got from all his shirtless runs. Shirtless runs? He shakes his head.
“Kelvin, wh... something isn’t right, bro.” Adam’s eyes widen, “Dude, seriously! Cut this out, bro!”
“Say ‘bro’ and ‘dude’ ironically enough times and soon it becomes part of your vernacular.” Kelvin mocked, “But I doubt you’re worried about that. You care more about finding the right lighting for a quick flex.”
Adam gasps as he feels compelled. He slowly flexes his bicep, the lighting perfectly highlighting his musculature and abs. He can’t help but grin.
“And I can tell you care even less for hygiene.”
Adam grimaces at the musky smell that wafts from his exposed pit. But slowly, his grimace shifts into a grin. Something about his man musk always brings him a sense of joy. The smell of a real man. He barely registers his brunette hair becoming lighter, until the brunette becomes a blonde.
“Yeah, a blond jock. That’s what makes the most sense.” Kelvin continues, “But outside of flexing and enjoying your own stench, I guess it would make sense if you were obsessed with...”
“W-wait!” Adam says suddenly, “Please... Kelvin...” He looks desperately at his roommate.
“Don’t worry, it’ll all make sense.” Kelvin reassures, “Because jocks like you are dumber than a lamppost. Barely even able to do basic math. So obsessed with your body that you don’t have time to nourish your brain.”
Adam’s eyes widen as he can literally feel his brain shrinking. His intelligence, knowledge, and kindness quickly being overwritten. His school smarts replaced by gym routines and different poses. His empathy and kindness twisting into self-indulgence and narcissism. His eyes glaze over as they reflect his new IQ. A smirk forms on his chiseled face as brazen overconfidence overwhelms any semblance of decency. He looks up at Kelvin.
“The fuck you lookin’ at nerd?” He scoffs, “You like what you see, bro?” He flexes his biceps.
Kelvin smiles, “Don’t you have soccer practice?”
“Pfft soccer, bro? Really? Shit sport. I gotta lift.” Adam retorts. He looks over at his computer, “What the fuck is that?” He quickly exits out of his calculus assignment and stands up.
“Wait, Adam...”
“Adam? Nah bro. I’ve told you 100 fuckin’ times to call me AJ.”
“Right. AJ,” Kelvin says, “Don’t you need a shirt for the gym?”
The dumb chuckle that follows is music to Kelvin’s ears, “Nah bro, why’d I hide this?” He flexes again, “Trust me, the dudes and chicks at the gym dig this.”
Kelvin watches as AJ slams the door behind him. A grin forming on the nerd’s face. Everything made sense now. And while Kelvin celebrated his newfound comfort with reality, AJ took great pride in the looks he was getting from the people he passed by. Flaunting his muscles at every chance he got. His smaller brain satisfied with the attention. His dick twitching from the excitement of being lusted after. Because to him, this made sense. Who wouldn’t want to ogle over his hot bod? That’s right, no one.
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daengtokki · 1 day
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Kim Seungmin/gn!reader
wc: ~2.7k
rating: mildly angsty cheesy fluff (idiot enemies to lovers)
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ happy (belated) birthday to @thackery-blinks and our Seungmo ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
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“I don't wanna see him...I don't like him, I think I hate him”
you what?
If anyone were in the room with you, they definitely would have heard her booming voice coming through the phone. You have to pull it away from your ear for a moment, but that’s all she has to say. For now.
“I said…” you rub your ringing ear and turn the volume down. “I said I hate him.”
hate is a big word, I'm not sure he deserves that
“He’s arrogant, and he's rude to me. Don’t pretend you’ve suddenly forgotten.”
you’re hyper-fixating…and maybe a little jealous because he’s cute and funny around everyone else. and he’s not rude, he can’t be rude if he never says anything to you
You can hear her laugh even though she moves away from the phone.
“Are you trying to piss me off? I’ll stay home tonight, and you know that’s not just a threat.” You will. You hate going out at the last minute almost as much as you can’t stand Kim Seungmin. “...such an asshole.”
excuse me??
“Not you, shut up”
he has a weird sense of humor…c’mon, you know what this is, right?
“Yeah. A congrats slash going away party for our favorite touchy kissy couple. Is it awful that I’m relieved I won’t have to be subjected to any more of their over-the-top pda?”
no, I won’t miss it…but you’re also chronically angry and single, so you might be more relieved—but that’s not what I was I referring to
“I’m ready, are you on your way?”
yeah, this lights been red for ten minutes, I swear…what’s with the selective hearing tonight? I’m coming in to make sure you’re dressed right so don’t wait for me outside
“I hear you, I just don’t wanna listen to your ‘Seungmin actually likes you’ theory again”
my hypothesis…I need more evidence
/ / /
She’s quiet for the first ten minutes of the drive, only because a perfect string of songs pop up on the playlist, but as soon as it ends, she turns the volume down…
“Are you ready to hear this?”
“No”
“Alright, so there’s literally no reason…none at all for Seungmin to not like you, or be weird around you, or less talkative, or just walk away when you enter the room”
“But he does all of those things”
“Right. Do you not read romance novels? Fanfiction?”
“What kind of fanfiction are you reading?”
She’s already exhausted of your aloofness…or just your refusal to accept anything more than what’s already in your head. But you’ve known him, known of him, for a few months now. He doesn’t give you anything aside from what you catch when he’s with others. You’re invisible when he’s in the room, and the more you think about it, the shittier you feel.
“Hello, you good? You might not read fanfiction, but you’re staring out of that window like the protagonist in very sad story. No, antagonist. You’re my antagonist.”
“I am not,” you sigh. Everything suddenly feels very heavy, and maybe it’s because you know you’re almost there.
“There wasn’t much fight in that. You better perk up, we’re almost there.”
/ / /
The first thing you see is him, and it’s not because you’re looking. Seungmin is leaning against the staircase bannister, arms folded loosely over his sweatshirt. He’s less than ten feet away when the two of you walk in the door, but he doesn’t move, and he doesn’t turn his head out of curiosity. You’re surprised he doesn’t sense your presence and walk away.
“Sorry we’re late,” she says, making sure to gently shove you forward in his direction. “But we brought gifts!”
Now Seungmin looks at the two of you. First his eyes land on her, but they quickly dart in your direction, and they linger much longer than you expect. As much as you don’t want to scare him off, you take the rare moment to look at him from such a small distance—just his eyes, though.
“It’s us, we’re the gifts”
Seungmin clears his throat and takes his leave, just like you expect.
“Well, go after him”
“Why would I go after him? Please, give it a rest…I’m already tired.”
“Okay, okay…I’m sorry. Are you good?”
“No.” They’re angry tears, but nobody else knows that. "Not really." To the other eight people in the room, tears are tears, and you don’t want them seeing you, but it's too much to hold back. “I need a minute.”
You shove through her and the next arriving couple on your way outside, but you didn’t really think beyond this. It’s cold out, and you’re not really dressed to sit around by the water, but that’s where you head on instinct. It’s empty back here, which is what you need right now, and the cool air on your warm, red, tear-streaked face. Why are you even crying? Nothing has happened, not really. Seungmin looked at you, and his stupid brown eyes sparkled and grew as they watched you for far too long. Why did he have to look at you like that?
The gazebo is what you typically claim when you’re back here. That’s where you go. It’s not exactly comfortable, but it’s pretty, and it keeps you mostly hidden from anyone looking out from the house.
A text message buzzes, but you take your time pulling it out and checking. All it’s going to be is someone, your friend, looking for you.
come back inside
“I’ll think about it” …you reply.
he never came back in the room, if that makes you feel better
“It doesn’t”
You get a few more minutes of peace and quiet, but you’ll admit that you’re already getting cold sitting out here. The wind is coming off of the lake and right at you, and every time a stray tear falls, it feels like it might freeze. This won't accomplish anything, you know that, but hiding from everything is so much easier. You might hate yourself for it later, but right now you feel good in the chilly air.
And then there's a crunch of footsteps. You ignore it. Someone has found you, but that doesn’t mean you’re getting up and going with them that easily. You've already decided this is where you belong right now, and you'll stick to that until you're dragged back inside. The footsteps stop...whoever it is doesn’t speak, though. There's only the sound of something being dropped close to you ear, and the footsteps start to retreat almost immediately.
It’s a coat, draped neatly on the railing. A black cotton one that looks vaguely familiar, and when you turn a little more, you remember when you saw him wearing it last.
“Wait!”
You almost trip as you get to your feet, and you’re glad he hasn’t turned to see you yet. But he does—he stops and turns. He looks like he wants to keep walking, though, and he does…Seungmin takes a few more slow steps backward as he watches you grab the jacket and hold it against your chest. His scent reaches your nose. You’ve never been close enough to him to know it, but now you do.
There’s nothing to say, though. You have nothing to say to him, or you do and you just don’t know how to put the words together.
Seungmin stops, and then takes two steps toward you. Is he having fun? Is he just playing with you? Tears start to brim again, and luckily he’s not close enough to see it. If you don’t figure out your next move, he’ll turn and leave and you might not get this much attention from him again.
“Did she make you come out here?”
“Make me? No, nobody makes me do anything.”
You’re glad he’s not close enough to see you roll your eyes. “Then what’s this for?” You look at his jacket, and when you look back to him, he’s taking two more big steps toward you.
“It’s cold.” He says flatly, and maybe waits for your response that never comes. “I saw you walking out from the bathroom window. By yourself.”
“And?”
Are you making him uncomfortable? He looks like he doesn’t know how to answer for his actions, and maybe he doesn’t. He’s never concerned himself with your actions before, but you also never do anything to bring attention to yourself. This was an overreaction on your part.
“And…"
Uncomfortable, maybe. Confused…probably. Maybe you should kick him while he’s stumbling over himself. “Why are you concerned with how cold I am?”
Two more steps, and now he can definitely see your puffy face. “Sorry, I'll leave you alone."
He can’t be serious. Does he want you to explain this to him? The look on his face does seem a little helpless, and you’ve never seen him look anything but sure of himself.
“This is the second time you’ve spoken to me in months.” This is also the first time you’ve been alone with him for more than a few moments.
“That's because you always seem to be pissed off. You always look angry when I see you. You don't right now...you looked upset when you walked through the door a little bit ago.
Your eyes drop to the ground in front of him, and you have to work hard to relax the scowl on your face. “I’m not angry.”
"So I never tried talking to you. I assumed you didn't want to, since you never spoke to me, either."
The first time the two of you met, you exchanged a brief hello, and that was that. You remember it very well. Seungmin took your hand in his and squeezed it so softly. His eyes were intense, but warm, and now you’re wondering if you were wearing your scowl when you first looked at him. Why could you have?
“Put the coat on, please”
You’re shivering. So is he. Seungmin takes one more step and grabs the baluster, and you think he’s going to come up here with you, but he doesn’t. You let go of the coat and finally swing it around your shoulders. The scent coming from it makes your knees weak.
“Thank you”
This time he steps up, and he’s at your level. Above it, actually. He’s looking down on you, and every bit of space closed between you makes you feel even weaker. Stupid, so stupid. Nothing is even happening. He’s just standing there, looking at you drowning in his warm jacket. You could curl up on the ground and fall asleep in all this warmth, but his stare is making you anxious.
“You look mad again”
“I’m not,” you pounce, and you force yourself to relax again. “I’m not mad. I…I’m just...”
“I have witnessed you smiling and laughing…not with me, but I always wondered why I couldn’t do it. I can never get anything from you.”
The conversation doesn’t feel real, but it’s real enough for the party guests—a few of them peer out through the kitchen window, thinking they’re being discreet.
Seungmin has made you laugh before, but only in your head. And he’s made you smile, too…as you’re drifting to sleep and thinking of him doing exactly what he’s doing right now.
“You do make me laugh”
“I do?”
“Yeah, don’t tell anyone I said that”
You make him laugh—Seungmin actually laughs, genuinely, and it sounds so much nicer than any laugh you’ve heard from him before.
“That’s not fair. They see you making me laugh right now.”
They do. Three people are by the patio door, probably wondering why he isn’t in there charming everyone. You managed to steal him away, and you wonder how long you can keep him out here with you despite your numb face.
“We should go back in, it’s cold. You’re cold.”
“I’m fine. I really didn’t wanna come tonight anyway, so being out here is better.”
“You’d rather stand out in the cold by yourself than hang out with everyone?”
“I’m not by myself”
He laughs under his breath, but his smile is a little bit wider. “So you’d rather stand out here with me than enjoy the party?”
Yes, you don’t say it out loud. How could you? The way you’ve played up your hatred for him to others, and your indifference to his face since you’ve met. It’s a little embarrassing. But it’s painful being around Seungmin…pretending you’re not upset every time you’re dragged to group outing is exhausting.
“I’m gonna take that as a yes unless you say otherwise”
Perfect. Saying nothing should be easy, but this time you open your mouth. “I can’t pretend I’m happy when I’m not.”
“You don’t have to”
“But I put on a mask when you’re around and make everyone think I’m unhappy, even when I’m not”
“You’re not?”
“I mean…I am, because you leave the room every time I walk in. But I’m not, because you’re still around, somewhere…and maybe I still have a chance.”
“A chance. So you don’t hate me?”
“No, but I don't want to get my heart broken," why are you spilling your guts to him? "So we should just go back to how things were before.” The words are just falling out of you, and looking at him like this and being with him, finally alone, makes you want to keep going until there's nothing left.
“No, we shouldn't. And I don't want mine broken, either.”
Seungmin is in front of you now, blocking you from everyone still hanging around the window. They seemed to be getting bored watching the two of you talk and do nothing else, so you at least feel like you’re alone with him again.
He reaches toward you, and you jump.
“Sorry,” he whispers and pulls at the collar of the jacket, “but if you’re not going inside,” and bends to connect and pull the zipper until it’s closed up to your chin.
You’re sure you look ridiculous in it—it’s already a little bit big on him. And no, you don’t want to go back in, because the thought of everyone staring at the two of you as you finally return…
“No, I’d rather go home”
“I can take you home”
“Everyone is in there waiting for you”
“The party will still be here when I get back”
“I don’t know you very well.” You pull the zipper down a few inches. “At all, actually.”
“Oh, you don’t want me to take you home?” He smirks. “That’s very smart and safe of you. I could be a serial killer for all you know.”
“I mean I don’t know enough about you to…ya know, like you as much as I do”
He laughs again…just a sweet, maybe a little embarrassed giggle. “So you do?”
“What?”
Seungmin is blushing. You’ve seen him do this before; the blush, the giggle, and the smile so big you thought his face would crack every time a someone flirted with him. It was hard to hide then—that horrible sinking feeling in your gut when you thought he might leave with one of them. But now he’s blushing for you, and nobody else.
“You've been skirting around the words the entire conversation, and you have to spell things out for me sometimes. I didn’t wanna make a move until you said it."
“Said what, that I want you?"
“Wow…yeah, if you wanna put it like that. You want me,” he laughs again, “I guess I want you, too.”
“Make a move, please.” You whisper through your chattering teeth, and turn your head as your heart threatens to jump right out of your chest.
“Please?” Seungmin smirks pulls the zipper down a bit more, enough that you catch the cold breeze on your neck and chest. And then he’s there, lips an inch from yours, and he stares. “Please.”
You close the space between you, cautiously press your lips to his. His return is just as hesitant, and you’re surprised at his shyness. The zipper comes down even more, and Seungmin doesn’t stop until the coat falls open again—now he has somewhere to put his arms. They disappear inside, and he squeezes tight and deepens the kiss. He kisses like you expected him to, mouth open, tongue gently asking to be let in, and you let him in. You’re finally warm again, and you’d like to be even warmer.
“Seungmin?” You touch his neck, and his skin is hot against your cold hands, but it doesn’t faze him. His mouth quiets you when you think of speaking again, and it pains you to pull him off of you.
“What is it?”
“I don’t want an audience”
He turns and sees the group of guests gathered near patio doors; his friends, yours…all either watching or pretending not to watch the show you two are putting on.
“You just want me, yeah?" His eyes sparkle as if he can do it on command.
“Just you.” Your teeth chatter again, no matter how hard you try to stop it.
“I don’t mind ditching them for a few hours”
“You don't?”
“Not if you wanna get warmed up"
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rosenclaws · 1 day
Note
Here to ask of you have any thoughts about getting Eddie off in public. Like for example you're at a meeting and you're stroking him under the table and he's trying (and failing) to be quiet and hide what's happening. Maybe he finishes 🫣 maybe Jane teases you both afterwards because she knows what's been going on
I'm sorry if this is too much but I'm having THOUGHTS about this man and I had to share
you are so real for this and i applaud ur brain. I decided for this one to be a little drabble for funsies. Hehe
wc: 579 words
warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ Only, hand jobs, exhibitionisms, flustered Eddie, he threatens to spank u oops.
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"What do you think you're doing?" Eddie grits out, he's leaning over to whisper in your ear so that no one else can hear you.
"I don't know what you're talking about?" You whisper back.
An innocent look on your face as you turn your attention back to the meeting. It was just another boring writers and producer meeting. There was a good amount of people but everyone was clearly bored out of their minds. You and Eddie sat together, listening to someone drone on about ratings and upcoming guests and blah blah.
The last time you had a meeting like this someone decided to be a dick and tease you in front of everyone. Thankfully no one noticed but you knew you had to take revenge on him. So you waited until finally the time was right. Everyone was focused on Diane as soon as she started speaking. She was too energetic for it being 9 in the morning but that's good for you.
A distraction.
Your hands slip down to Eddie's lap. He plays with your hand for a bit to distract himself. Keeping a straight face you start to unzip his jeans. He tenses under you but stays still. You see the grip on his pen get tighter as you reach into his boxers and start to grab his cock.
"Do you want us to get fired?" He shifts in his seat as his cock starts to get hard.
"Do you want me to stop?" You call him out on his bluff.
If he wants you to stop you will but you know he can't resist your touch. He grumbles to himself but doesn't tell you to stop. With a smirk you turn your focus back on Diane as you continue to stroke Eddie.
You keep your movements as subtle as possible but you wrists flicks wickedly good. Eddie coughs loudly when you run your thumb over the tip. Eyes turn onto him and it takes every single bit of will power in him to stay calm.
"You alright?" You ask with fake concern. He glares at you as he takes a sip of water and mumbles that he's fine. This is utter torture for him and you live for every damn second.
"What do you think Eddie?" Diane asks him. His face and neck are flushed red as he stutters out some reply. Not even know what the hell she was talking about. Too focused on your hand in his pants.
He buries his face in the stack of papers, lifting them to hide his face as he shamelessly comes in your hand and in his pants. You look around to see no one paying either of you any attention. He zips himself back up and excuses himself to the bathroom.
When the meeting is over you find him waiting outside. He looks pissed but there's a twinkle of lust in his eyes.
"You better be ready because tonight I'm going to spank that ass raw for that stunt." He whispers in your ear, a dangerous smile on his face.
"Hey guys!" You both turn your head to see Jane walking towards you two.
"Hi Jane!"
"Hi." She takes one look at the two of you and smiles.
"Eddie is everything alright? You look a little flushed." Eddie clenches his jaw and glares at the both of you. You bite your lip to contain your laughter as you meet eyes with Jane.
"Oh shut up."
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samandcolbyownme · 8 hours
Note
POOKIE WHEN ARE WE GETTING SOME MORE COLBY FICS IM DYINGGGGG (in all seriousness I'm not tryna rush you but pleaseeee just think about writing some more soon it's been like a month I've already re-read them all like 3 times 😭🤚)
I am thankful you chose to re-read my stuff, but here!! Here’s some new Colby smut 🖤
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DISCLAIMER: This fanfiction is going to contain reader cheating on boyfriend with Colby. I do not condone cheating, it’s horrible. This is strictly for fanfiction entertainment purposes only!!
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, cheating, flirting, mentions of people being drunk, kissing, hair pulling, unprotected sex, general filth
Word Count: 1.3k | unedited
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
“Alright.” You sighed as you help up the weight of Leo, your beyond plastered boyfriend, “Come on, just a few more steps, okay?”
Leo groans, mumbling some incoherent words as he slowly lifts his legs onto each step.
“Okay, just-“ you huff, “Lean.. up against, yeah.” You push him back against the wall by the door and fumble to quickly get the house key attached to his key ring.
You drop them and Leo leans forward, “I’ll get’em.”
He leans too far and about knocks you both off of the porch, but the banister saves you from going back, “Leo, stand back up. I have to un-“
The door open and Colby, Leo’s roommate walks out, “I thought I heard something out here, what’s-“
You cut him off, pushing Leo up to stand, “He’s wasted. Again.”
Leo stumbles backwards, “You.. say, that. Like it’s a ba-“ he hiccups, “Bad things..”
Colby grabs him before he can move back any further, “Alright, man. Let’s get you upstairs to your bed, yeah?” Colby glances at you and you shake your head, “I’ll be in. I just-“
“Oh come on! Y/n, cheer up! It’s a p-party!” Leo slurs, “Come to bed with me!”
“I’ll.. be there in a second. I’m going to get you some water and medicine for in the morning.” You walk in behind them and go straight for the kitchen.
Colby laughs as he watches Leo stumble up the steps, “C’mon man. You gotta lift-“ he laughs, “Lifts your legs, dude. There ya go.”
You shake your head, laughing slightly as you open the fridge door. You grab two bottles of water, turning around to set them on the counter before you close the door.
You walk over to the medicine cabinet and reach up to grab the Tylenol. Your fingers push it back and you let out a frustrated sigh as you drop down from your tip toes.
“Need some help?”
Colby startles you for a second, “Oh, um. Yeah.” You laugh quietly, “You scared me. Figured you’d be up there for a little.”
“I’m pretty sure he was asleep before he even hit the bed.” Colby walks over and reaches up, big body right next to yours as he reaches up, “Here you go.”
You take the bottle and set it down, “Thanks.”
He leans against the counter, his hand resting on top, “I don’t..” he sighs, “Stop me if I cross a line, but.. isn’t this his fourth night in a row getting wasted like this? I mean I’m not trying to judge.. or anything, but-“
“Yeah.” You cut him off, scoffing as you lay a hand on your forehead, “Yeah.”
Colby stays silent and you take a deep breath, looking over at him, “I’ve tried talking to him.. I-I- I’ve tried telling him that drinking isn’t-“ you shake your head, “Colby.” Your voice breaks, “What.. what do I do?”
He tilts his head, raising his brows as he shrugs, “Whatever you want, y/n. I don’t think-“
“No, Colby. Please. I need someone to tell me something.” You turn towards him and he turns his head towards you, staring at you while he thinks.
“Please.” Your voice is a whisper and Colby reaches up, brushing hair from your face, “I think someone out there can treat you better, someone who has gotten to know you without actually being with you.”
He steps closer, “I think I could treat you better than he can.” He bends down, lifting you up onto the counter, and it’s game over.
His lips are on yours.
Your hands sliding his shirt up his body.
His hands working to pull your shorts down as you move your hips side to side.
“You woke up at three in the morning, might as well make it worth it, yeah?” Colby mumbles as he leans back, discarding his shirt to the floor.
“Just..” you pull him back in, kissing him as you spread your legs and push his sweats down, “Shut up and fuck me.”
He smirks and pulls up into the edge of the counter, his lips on yours as he pulls your panties to the side and thrusts into you.
You throw your head back, one arm around his neck, your other hand flat on the countertop next to you.
“Oh my-“ you lay your forehead against his chest, biting down onto your lip as he thrusts roughly into you.
“Look at me, look at me.” Colby groans, grabbing your hair and tilting your head back, “You deserve so much better than what you’re getting. You hear me?”
You nod, mouth open as your eyes roll back.
“Words, baby.” Colby wraps your hair around his head, gaining full control. You whimper, eyes opening to look at him, “I deserve so much better.”
You swallow, “You can be my better.”
“I’ll kick him out tomorrow.” Colby bites down on his lip, watching as your face twists and turns with the best pleasure you’ve ever received, “Fuck, you are so beautiful.”
You gasp, your walls clenching around him as you reach the edge, “F-fuck, Colby. Colby.” Your nails dig into his skin, creating red trails as they drag across his shoulders, “Y-yes!”
Colby’s lips press against yours as he tries to silence your moans, “quiet, princess.”
“He’s passed out. Probably wouldn’t give a fuck anyway.” You pant, “Fuck, Colby. I-I’m-“ you gasp, nails digging into his skin as you finally spill over into that euphoric feeling that you’ve been seeking.
“That’s it, baby. Let go for me. I got you.” Colby whispers, “Fuck, y-you- fuck.” He pulls out, spilling his cum onto your thigh, “Shit, shit.”
You rest your head back against the closed cupboards, “That..” you laugh slightly, “I can’t believe that just happened.”
Colby fixes his sweats and walks away for a second.
You lay a hand over your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes, “That..” you take a deep breath, laughing away the tears, “Oh fuck.”
Colby steps towards you, wiping off your leg with a towel, “Sorry if I-“
“No, oh god no.” You look up at him, “I don’t..” you take a deep breath, “I don’t regret this, I just.. the timing.. of it..”
He nods, a small smile playing on his lips, “Yeah, no, I completely get it. But I’m sorry if I made you feel-“
“Colby.” You cut him off, “You have nothing to be sorry for, you want to know why?”
He looks up at you, “Tell me, baby.”
You smirk, tilting your head, “Because you have treated me better in these last few months than Leo has. Everytime I’ve hung out here, you were always the one to offer me a drink or food or whatever the case may be.”
“Leo is an immature little boy and I’m just glad we both realized what kind of person he is before he fucked over either one of us over.” He tucks hair behind your ear and kisses your forehead, “Sleep on the couch tonight. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
You nod, “Already planned on it, but thank you.” You smirk and slip down off the counter, bending down to grab your shorts and fix your panties, “I’m just.. scared how he’ll react you know.”
Colby nods, “I’ll be there, I mean, if you want me to be.”
You nod, “Please, at least hide upstairs or something? I’ll tell him you went out with Sam or.. whatever.”
Colby fights back a smile and you tilt your head, “What?”
He shakes his head, “Nothing, nothing, I just..” he walks over, wrapping his arms around you, “Just thinking about after he leaves, how much sex we’re going to have.”
You laugh, “Colby.”
“What? Celebration sex, ya know?”
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
I feel like this kinda sucked but aw well. Let me know what you think! I love you all so much. Thanks for reading and I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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blueishspace · 20 hours
Text
Looped Sun 15
Loop #451
Mumbo wasn't sure about trying out Double Life, especially in a null loop like this one...but Grian had asked and he wasn't able to say no. So there he was, ready to see how this would go down.
TangoTek was blown up by a creeper.
Solidaritygaming died.
Mumbo didn't expect Tango to die the same way so he had to assume they were unawake this time around. It had been a while since they looped together now that he tought about it. Oh well.
Skizz: Hey man!
Mumbo: O-oh! You are here too?
Skizz: Sure thing!
Mumbo: O-oh...have you found your soulmate yet mate?
Skizz: No, have you?
Mumbo: ... Not really. Do you think...?
Skizz: No hurt in checking! Come on dude, punch me!
Mumbo: Oh pants! Uh... here you go?
Turns out they were soulmates, guess it made sense since the other pairs seemed to be the same.
Mumbo: I see skeletons!
Skizz: I'm on them!
Mumbo: Try not to die please?
Skizz: What's up!? What's up!?
Mumbo: O-oh I'll help!! Wait for me!
Well, they didn't win...not that he expected them to. It was lots of fun though.
Loop #453
Pearl had loved her first Avatar the last airbender loop, Katara had been a great teacher and she still used waterbending often... She didn't like this specific Avatar loop though, mostly because she was stuck as a fish.She got it of course, moon spirit, PearleascentMoon, sge wasn't stupid... but still being a fish in small small pond while swimming in literal circles is mind numbing.
Then of course came the general who tried to kill her, which was rude by the way, and she had to deal with him...fortunately chaos magic still worked as a fish.
Loop #457
Grian: And that's Uno.
Jimmy: No! No! You can't let him win.
Tango: I got nothing...
Mumbo: M-me neither. Scott?
Scott: ...Pearl? ... I'm sorry, +4.
Pearl: Don't worry mate, I got you. +4.
Grian: What!? Noo! Pearl why!?!
Jimmy: And It's my turn!
Grian: Ok, what if we traded?
Pearl: Go on.
Grian: I'll give you one of the red properties so you can get the monopoly if you give me that one.
Pearl: So you can get a monopoly too?
Grian: It's a win-win.
Pearl: ... Sure. Here you go.
Grian: I hate this. I hate life.
Mumbo: O-oh!
Scott: Look at the bright side.
Grian: What bright side?
Scott: Jimmy is sucking so bad.
Grian: You what, you are right. The game of life is my favorite now.
Jimmy: Wha- hey.
Tango: I mea ... He's not lyificating.
Jimmy: Rancher, you too? Betrayal!
Mumbo: Oh ...ok... Before blank all we had was blank.
Pearl: Ooh a double.
Scott: I have an idea but I also hate it.
Jimmy: I ...don't like this game...
Tango: Well, here goes nothing.
Mumbo: Ok let's see... Before s-sexy pillow fights all we had was gladiator fights? I don't get it...
Pearl: Yeah that was just boring.
Grian: Listen, I had 0. Absolutely 0 good cards.
Jimmy: I like this one a lot better.
Grian: Timmy ... Timmy this is not a game, It's Mumbo's tarot card.
Jimmy: I stand with what I said. So what did I get?
Mumbo: Oh! That's the... that's the fool.
Jimmy: Nice! ... What does it mean?
Mumbo: Youth... and luck...it depends.
Loop #459 (part 1)
Jimmy: Uh, were are we?
Tango: It looks like a dungeon entrance?
Jimmy: Well, I got that.
Scott: Oh fuck I know what loop this is. This is bad.
Tango: You do?
Scott: This is fear and hunger.
Jimmy: ... Oh...I heard about it. The very non pg one?
Tango: Are the two of you going to share.
Scott: This... We can do this, It's not a null loop or anything. It should be doable.
Scott: It's...really dark. Darker then the game.
Tango: I can have my flame hair on, it might help.
Jimmy: Or I could do the sun incantation? Make my hair glow.
Scott: No, no. You need to sing for it to work, we can't risk your throat getting tired too early on.
Jimmy: ...Alright.
Tango: Aren't you like a god of order Scott? Can't you do anything to help?
Scott: Not really, my divinity here is really diminished for some reason. Probably the influence of the old gods.
Jimmy: Wait I hear a voice!
Tango: Uh!? Where!?
Jimmy: It's...
Jimmy enveloped himself with a thin layer of Listener magic.
Jimmy: That way!
Tango: What-
Scott: Since when are you a Listener?
Jimmy: Pretty early on in my loops, it happens sometimes. Oh, I hear it again. It sounds young!
Tango: A door?
Jimmy: We obviously need to get to other side!
Scott: Let me try something.
And in a flash of blue Scott is gone... A few seconds later the door opens with Scott behind it.
Scott: The tesseract still works.
Jimmy: Is that a little girl?
Tango: Why is she in a cage? Scott?
Scott: ... It's complicated...just help me get her out.
Tango: The cage doesn't look too hard to breakificate. Just pull a bit and uh... It's harder then it looks. I'm going to melt it-
Scott: And risk molten metal getting on the girl?
Tango: Point... I'll just use an axe.
Jimmy: Hello there! Who are you?
Girl: ...
Jimmy: Right uh... I'll introduce myself first if you want.
Girl: ...
Jimmy: Right, I'm Jimmy, that's Tango and that is Scott.
Girl: ...
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treason-and-plot · 2 days
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The bad weather and the cancellation of Raj’s whale watching tours has impacted the Whale Museum as well. The only visitors since 8.30 am have been a group of elderly tourists from Shang Simla, and they didn’t even buy any souvenirs! Then Kaleb barges through the door.
“Hi,” says Mia, looking him up and down. He is dressed for the gym, and his hair and his skin are wet. He is panting slightly.
“Whew, it’s really coming down out there,” he says, unnecessarily. He smiles at Nanette who is sitting behind the reception desk browsing Parisian places of interest on the internet. She glances up and gives him a small nod of acknowledgement.
“Hey Mrs N!” he says. “How’s everything? Keeping dry?”
“Yes thank you Kaleb,” says Nanette. “Did you leave your umbrella at home?’
“The rain doesn’t bother me,” he says. “I was already hot and sweaty from the gym so being in the rain felt kind of nice.”
“Why do have to say things like that?" says Mia.
“What things?”
“That you’re all hot and sweaty. You know what that does to me.”
“Mia!” he says, with a small laugh as he glances at Nanette, who frowns at her computer screen. “Don’t talk like that in front of your mother.”
“I’m used to it,” scoffs Nanette.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” says Mia.
“I just thought I’d pop in on my way home from the gym and say hello to my favourite girls,” he says. Nanette exchanges a pointed glance with Mia. “I also wanted to ask Mia if she wanted to see a movie tonight.”
“Oh, I’m not sure,” says Mia. “I think…I’m supposed to be having dinner at Jackie’s. I’ll have to let you know.”
“Not a problem,” says Kaleb. “Alright then, I’d better be heading home. Enjoy the rest of your day!”
He turns to go and then Mia grabs his arm.
“Actually, we have a problem with the sink in the ladies’ bathroom,” she says, flickering her eyelashes at him. “Would you be able to have a look?”
“Um, okay,” he says. “Sure.”
(uncensored pics can be found on my blogger...as usual don't click if under 18, or at work, or if offended by nude pixels)
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pepi1989 · 1 day
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Can you please type a story of reader smothering Ben in kisses to try get him to talk after a fake argument/mock fight? Like fighting after reader teasing him?
Too Many Kisses to Stay Mad - Ben Shelton
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It started out as just harmless teasing, like it always does. We were sitting on the couch after dinner, the TV on in the background, when Ben launched into another story about his practice session. I couldn’t help myself, he was always talking about tennis, and I’d spent the whole meal listening to stats, strategies, and match recaps.
“So let me get this straight,” I interrupted, trying to keep a straight face. “You spent the entire afternoon talking to your coach about… the angle of your serve?”
Ben paused, mid-sentence, giving me a confused look. “Yeah? It’s important. The right angle can—”
“Oh, I know, it’s crucial,” I said, exaggerating my voice like some sort of sports commentator. “Because clearly, that’s the most fascinating thing in the world to talk about when you’re home, relaxing, with your girlfriend.”
His brow furrowed as he picked up on the teasing tone. “Are you making fun of me?”
I grinned, biting my lip. “Never,” I said with faux innocence, leaning in like I was about to be serious. “I’m just saying… maybe we could talk about something else for a change? Like how cute my new outfit is, or how amazing I am at Mario Kart.”
Ben’s lips twitched, fighting a smile. “I talk about other stuff.”
I gasped, dramatically clutching my chest. “Other stuff? Besides tennis? I’m shocked. Shocked, I tell you.”
His eyes narrowed, but the smirk was already forming. “Alright, alright. You’re asking for it.”
“Oh no,” I laughed, sliding away as he reached for me, “what are you gonna do? Lecture me about the importance of racket tension?”
Ben lunged, pinning me to the couch as I squirmed beneath him, laughing. “You better apologize before I go full tennis nerd on you.”
“Never!” I gasped between giggles, trying to wriggle free. “You’ll never make me!”
“Okay, fine,” he said, sitting up with a mock frown. “You’re on your own now. I’m not talking to you. Ever again.”
I sat up too, catching my breath and raising an eyebrow. “Really? Not talking to me, huh? You think you can keep that up?”
Ben crossed his arms and turned his face away dramatically. “I’m dead serious. You’re cut off.”
I tried to suppress a laugh, but the fake sulking was too much. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. It was just a little teasing.”
He remained silent, his face stoic, but I could see the corner of his mouth twitching. He was holding back a smile.
“Alright,” I said, standing up and brushing off my clothes. “I see how it is. Guess I’ll just have to… make you talk.”
His eyes darted towards me for a split second, his curiosity piqued, but he quickly looked away again. I took that as my cue.
Without warning, I jumped back onto the couch, tackling him into the cushions and smothering his face with kisses. “Kiss attack!” I declared, planting kisses all over his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, anywhere I could reach.
Ben squirmed beneath me, trying to fend me off, but he was laughing now, the mock argument completely forgotten. “Stop! You’re—this is cheating!”
“Not until you talk to me!” I said between kisses, refusing to let up. “Come on, just say something.”
He let out a muffled laugh, grabbing my wrists to try and stop me, but I was too quick. “Okay, okay!” he finally gasped, barely able to breathe from laughing. “You win!”
I sat back, grinning down at him, victorious. “That’s what I thought.”
Ben shook his head, his chest still heaving from laughter. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet,” I said, leaning in close, my lips brushing against his, “you’re still with me.”
He sighed dramatically, but the affection in his eyes was undeniable. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
I moved to kiss him again, this time softer, slower, and he responded instantly, his hands slipping around my waist to pull me closer. For a moment, the teasing faded into something warmer, something more real. I could feel his heart racing beneath my palm as he deepened the kiss, and when we finally pulled away, he was smiling.
“You know,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, “you didn’t have to kiss me a hundred times to get me to talk.”
I shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant. “I know. But where’s the fun in that?”
He chuckled, his hands still resting on my waist. “Fair point. But next time, I’m not letting you win so easily.”
“Oh, please,” I teased, leaning back with a playful smirk. “You couldn’t resist me if you tried.”
Ben tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Wanna bet?”
Before I could respond, he flipped us over, pinning me beneath him this time, his grin widening as I let out a surprised yelp. “Payback time,” he said, leaning in close, his voice low.
But instead of kissing me, he hovered just inches away, his breath warm against my skin. I waited, my heart racing, but he stayed right there, not moving.
“Ben,” I whispered, biting my lip. “You’re killing me here.”
“Am I?” he asked, his voice full of amusement. “I thought you wanted to talk.”
I rolled my eyes, my hands sliding up his chest. “Fine, let’s talk.”
He chuckled, finally closing the distance and kissing me again, this time with a little more intensity. His hands roamed over my sides, pulling me closer, and all thoughts of teasing and mock fights melted away.
When we eventually broke apart, both of us breathless, Ben rested his forehead against mine. “Okay, maybe you’re right,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “I can’t resist you.”
“Told you,” I murmured, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “But you can keep trying. I don’t mind.”
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maoxyi · 3 days
Text
To let go (part 9)
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Franky crashes into a wall and falls on his face. Ah what the hell. He doesn’t understand how he could pass out and find himself crashing into walls. How the hell did he even get into a building in the first place. Where even is he. As he stands, he smells smoke. He feels the building shake a little. He looks up and-
“WHY THE HELL AM I HERE!” The shock that explodes within him leaves him shaking. He knows this place. He knows. He could never, ever forget.
Ennies Lobby wasn’t something he could simply forget.
“What the hell…” He shakes his head. What on Earth… he walks towards the big doors that he remembers lead to Lucci. Where his captain beat that asshole to the ground. He grins and feels the itch to pose. It WAS a super moment after all and deserves one. He pushes the doors open and is greeted with the sight of a body on the floor. He hesitates in shock for a moment before running forwards.
“Hey! You alright!” He calls and comes to a halt when the person turns their head towards him. That was definitely Luffy. He’d recognise him anywhere. He may not understand what’s going on right now or why, but it didn’t matter to him. He kneels down and scoops his captains small frame into his arms as carefully and gently as his huge self can. His captain is bloodied and bruised. Beaten and broken. Struggling to breathe as he lays in his arms.
“Oh… Franky. You-you look different. Though I don’t think the me who knows you would really think much about it. You look super cool.”
“And you look like you could be much better.”
“Shishi, that's true.”
“Luffy what… what’s going on here?”
“Well can’t you see? We’re in Ennies Lobby silly!” He hacks out a cough and a little blood droplet falls on his skin but he pays no mind. Though he feels as though he should.
“Are you dying right now?”
“Well no. I felt like I would have back then but no. I don’t feel anything. Since I’ve felt it already. Not that I know yet.”
“Already… so we’re… in the past?”
“Past? I don’t know. Maybe you are but I’m not. I’m exactly where I’m meant to be stuck.”
“Stuck? Can’t you get out? Where’s Chopper?”
“Chopper? Well I don’t know. There’s only ever me. Me and Lucci sometimes. Only when he shows up.” Now Franky doesn’t really understand how or why he’s here at this moment. He supposes he’s meant to save his captain. From what he isn’t sure. Himself? His mind? His memories? Maybe he’s in his mind right now. He’s never tried to repair anything in a mind before. That would be SUPER difficult.
“But… How do I help? How can I help you?”
“You can’t. This is… this is what I have to do. In order to protect you all in the future. I have to keep getting stronger. I have to keep fighting. I… can’t let anyone take you away from me. I have to be a good captain.”
“I… see. But you’re already the best captain any of us could ask for.” He whispers to him softly as the small hands that come out of his giant palms remove hair out of his young, tired face and he feels a stab in his heart. A pain. He’s… he’s never realised how small he was. How young. This is his captain. His captain. His super strong and SUPER kind captain. He loves his captain he really does.
“No I’m not. I lost two of my crew. Two, Franky. I didn’t meant to. I truly didn’t and it burns me up that I did.” The burning he feels makes Franky flinch. He burns along with him. He’s always connected to others emotions easily.
“You…” He has to swallow past the lump building in his throat to continue talking. “You can’t blame yourself for that.”
“I can. Or more… I did.”
“That’s true but you… that’s not very super.” Luffy giggles at him and it makes Franky smile a little. They talk like he isn’t bleeding out in his arms. Like it’s normal.
“It isn’t but she left us, Franky. Just like Usopp did. Right after he did. Right after I failed to be a good captain. Just like Nami has.” Franky doesn’t want to think of Sanji. He doesn’t want to think of it. “How many more of you will leave me Franky? I have to be strong enough. No matter how many times you leave, i have to be strong enough to get you back. No matter how hard. I will get my family back.”
“Lu…” and Franky can understand that. He can understand doing anything and everything to bring back your family. He can remember trying to stop them from taking Tom. He can understand but… he knows that it can’t be done alone. No one person can do it alone. “You can’t do it alone.”
“What?”
“You can’t do it alone, little brother. No matter what you think.”
“But-“
“No. You know what’s not super? Thinking you can do it all alone. You know what is super? Letting us help you.”
“But… but I’m the captain.”
“And I’m the shipwright.”
“Yes.”
“Does that make me less part of the crew? Does that make it so that I don’t care about our crew more than you?”
“No!” Luffy tries to at least sit up a little but physically cannot do it, his eyes wide and terrified. “Never! That’s not true Franky you’re awesome! You’ll be part of our crew soon! You’ll be our family!” Franky lifts his leg up to lean Luffy on it so he can sit up slightly.
“I am very super yes. So then, what do you think? What would we do in that situation?”
“Situation?”
“If one of our crew leaves? Do you think we would sit around and wait for you to go get them? Is that what happened here?”
“…no…”
“Of course not. You all TOGETHER took on the world! You burned the flag! All for Robin and she saw how loved she was. It was a SUPER moment!” He’s aware there are tears and he’s aware of the wild grin on his face. He probably looks insane. His captain, bless him, forces a hand up to wipe his face and he’s sure it leaves blood smeared on him. He doesn’t care. He SUPER doesn’t care right now. “Together, we will take on anything. We are SUPER family, Luffy.”
“Franky… but what about Usopp… that was my fault.”
“It wasn’t. Not completely.”
“But it was me who fought and…”
“Of course there’s going to be fighting. Of course there will be moments like that but… he apologised. He comes back Luffy.”
“He… he does?”
“Yeah and we’re all together. You don’t have to be afraid Luffy. You don’t have to be SUPER on you’re own. You don’t have to be. We can help you.”
“…Ok.”
“I will build you a bridge that will take us directly where we need to go. I will fix the path and make it easier for us. Everyone else will help. We can do this together Luffy. You’re never ever alone. You will never be alone again.” Maybe to this Luffy he’s lying. He’s lying because he will be. He doesn’t mean for it but he’s swears to him. He swears to the Luffy that can’t hear him. The one he’s trying to save. He’s promised. He’s sworn. He will make sure he keeps that promise.
“Ok.” Luffys tears fall like leaves in the autumn. Soundless and free. “Ok. I… don’t want to be alone anymore. I want everyone’s help.” Franky nods proudly. “It’s… it’ll be hard. In the future.”
“It super will be.”
“But all I need is you all. I will be ok.”
“That is right. Now.” He slowly stands, careful not to hurt him. “Where the hell is Chopper. Real or not you have to be looked at. I can’t take looking at you like this.” For once, Luffy grins.
“Maybe outside? There’s a lot of noise coming from out there.” And he’s right. Franky had been focused solely on Luffy and ignored every noise and shake that occurred. He laughed. “Watch out!” Luffy yells and Franky jumps out of the way as Luccis fist connects to with the concrete. Franky wastes no time to dash for the doors.
“THIS IS SUPER UNCOOL WHERE DID HE EVEN COME FROM? FUCK OFF!” He screams over his shoulder and Luffy leans his head back and laughs. As he dodges and runs and deflects the attacks, Luffy laughs and laughs and laughs. Reaching for the doors, Franky pauses before placing Luffy on the floor. The boy looks up, puzzled. Franky smirks at him before he punches Lucci squarely in the face, sending him flying through the walls. Back then he couldn’t fight him, but now he was strong enough.
“That’s for tormenting my captain you piece of shit.” He hisses. He turns to Luffys bright smiling face. There’s sparkles in his eyes when he picks him up and opens the door.
“That was so cool!” And yeah Franky thinks to himself. He is pretty super.
But he can’t be who he is without his captain and crew.
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gobstoppr · 7 months
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and btw im in my hater arc rn. as time goes on the more i find a lot of 'fandom' stuff insufferable (i like art n stuff. just the way that fandom refits every media to fit a single mold and set of boring archetypes is exhausting.)
i just get really easily annoyed lately. and have been unfollowing people on a whim a lot. its not personal i promise
#fandom culture has made me actively dislike shit i was fixated on a year ago. looking at your ninja turtles#its not even like what they were doing were particularly offensive it was just exhaustingly boring#im sorry i just really dont care about ur 2 million fics about leo being a sadboy. or one million seperated aus.#theres definetly a part of the whole situation in general which has been me coming to terms with my own internalized misogny#actively re-examining my tendencys to gravity towards male characters#idk maybe its making me dislike art more. but idk. ive always analyzed why i react certain ways to certain things. this isnt new for me#anywaays. i had been following a bunch of ninja turtle blogs and they sorta kept messing around with shows like ninjago too#and at some point i was just like. i dont know if these shows are actually that good guys. i think youjust like shows for little boys#and fandoms tend to shaft female chars so it sure helps that their casts are 98% male .#maybe theyre not your blorbo maybe theyre just Guy McAverageMan. thats not inherently bad but you have to consider it.#guys rottmnt is isnt even that good . its not that good ok. its alright/pretty good. and the movie does a few neat things#i feel like ive become one of those people that turn 18 and then immediately go 'minors dni'. im not there yet but i just.#we're watching kids shows. its ok . you can say it.#you may have noticed ive been reblogging a lot of dungeon meshi stuff. i read it all over the past week.#but here's the thing. i thought it was mid/good for like 70% of it.#i think its got some really really cool worldbuilding ideas and stuff#but i think a lot of the writing was sorta. uninteresting to me.#my discord friends have been raving over izutsumi for months.#but i found her presence in the story to be weird and underdeveloped. she felt out of place and her introduction felt clumsy#i felt when the story was ramping up the manga got a lot better. because again theres some rlly cool ideas at play#all the shit with the lion? incredible. the way all the infighting led to more problems bc the elves refuse to explain anything? rlly good.#marcille landing in power? reallly good shit. (i still thought it was a lil undercooked still tho)#i cant stop thinking about laios in that climax scene. i think he shouldve been feral a lot more often#uhh. i got distracted. fandom bad and annoying.#saw a post talking about marcille realizing izutsumi is only 17 and then describing how 'omg shes a mom now' and i wanted to throw up#im done. i swear. im done talking for real. aagh#text
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luveline · 3 days
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hi jade! i was wondering if you could do a zombie!au fic where r helps steve when he wakes up from a nightmare?
For a split second, Steve doesn’t know that you’re you, and he shoves you away hard. He scrambles away from you in the dark, kicking at your leg, your light sleep torn open as he shouts an unintelligible word and tumbles against the zipped tent door. 
“Steve, it’s me,” you say, voice scared and croaky with sleep. “It’s just me, it’s just me. Just us.” 
His breath is ragged. Your leg aches from the brunt of his entire body weight, your arm stings similarly. You can barely see him in the dark, his mouth a black hole, his eyes a strange shade of their usual brown as he sucks in harsh breath. You sit up with a groan. 
“Just me,” you say again, softer, “nobody else.” 
“Did I hurt you?” he asks. 
“It’s okay.” 
He swallows a lump. “Did I?”
“No. It’s alright. Come back over here, you didn't hurt me.” 
He looks at you like you’re an alien, but he shuffles back across the tent to sit by you again on the packed out mattress and your few sheets. When he’s close enough, you take the zipper on his hoodie and pull it down, away from his neck and open, before pushing the garment from his shoulders to bring out his arms. The rightmost has a bad scar from a worse infection running down the forearm, but besides that, he has a smooth expanse of skin for touching. You want to touch him. 
“I kicked you,” he says, “I’m sorry.” 
You hold him by the elbow, turned to him with your chin up. You want to get a good look at him. His bottom lip trembles. “Bad dream?” you ask gently. 
He presses his lips into a tight line. 
“I know they scare you, but it’s really okay, Steve, you’re okay.” Your voice has turned to butter, a silky whisper as you bring your hand to his cheek, and he crushes it between his face and his shoulder. “It’s okay.” 
“It’s okay,” he says finally, eyes squeezing shut. 
Fuck, baby, you think, pushing up onto your knees. “Gonna hug you,” you say, wrapping your arms around his head. 
He smells like that strange, subtle sweat that clings to his hair while he sleeps. No discernible odour, but the scent of perspiration. Maybe it’s just how he smells, or his pillow, his t-shirt? You bury your nose into his hair and attempt to rub the tension from between his shoulders.
“You smell nice,” you whisper, pressing a bunch of quick, loving kisses into his limp hair.  
“Did I hurt you a lot, when I–” He clears his throat. “I pushed you twice. I’m sorry.” 
“Baby, don’t be sorry, I don’t care.” 
“I didn’t mean to, I just thought it was you. They were– it was ripping my face off.” 
“That’s not gonna happen. Nothing’s gonna hurt you.” You close your eyes, let your face rest almost entirely in his hair. “I'm not gonna let that happen to you, I promise.” 
His breathing slows. His hands curl loosely in the front of your shirt. 
“Do you wanna lay back down? It’s still night, I think. It’s so cold.” 
Steve pulls away from you to look over your face. Without comment, he grabs his hoodie from around his waist to drape over your shoulders, sliding across toward his pillow, a hesitancy in his movements. “I think I’ll stay awake. Just for a bit. I don’t want to have the same dream.” 
“I’ll stay awake with you.” 
“No, you should sleep. It’ll make me feel better if I can…” 
He wants to watch you sleep. You wrap his hoodie around you tightly and slip back down onto your back on the portable mattress, your face to his thigh. You clasp his ankle in your hand. 
“You don’t wanna talk about it?” you ask. 
Steve encourages your face onto his thigh properly. Your neck aches, but you’ve no inclination to tell him as his hand cups your neck. “No. It was stupid. I woke you up. Scared you.” 
“No way. You don’t scare me.” 
He exhales. His thumb strokes your chin. “At least I get to wake up to you. From a nightmare to a straight up dream.” 
You hold his eyes. “Oooh, smooth.” 
He bends down to touch your nose to his. “I really don’t hurt you?” he asks again, whispering. 
“No, I promise.” 
You draw lazy half circles into his ankle and pretend to feel more tired than you do. Steve stays there for a while, bent over you without a sound. His hands are shaking. When sleep begins to weigh you down again, he noses a kiss behind your ear and sits up. You wonder what he’s thinking, listening to his breath. He doesn’t wake you again that night.
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milflewis · 2 years
Note
He tries to sing a little quieter in his drivers room
Niamh, respectfully, wtf. Shut UP
no but george finding valtteri in his room and he’s like. the fuck are you doing here. and valtteri has to tell this fucking british twink cow eyed lesbian that he misses lewis’s singing 😔😔🤧🤧 and george !! george god bless him believes in true love !! he was raised right so what else can he do but help him !! so he starts sneaking val into the merc motorhome so val can sit in george’s driver room and listen to lewis sing next door bc that is the only logical solution to their problem
(smt smth lewis ends up catching them n he’s like. val !! wait….val?? oh….val 🥺🥺 bc he thinks they’re sleeping together but val n george are too busy freaking out that they got caught to realise what lewis is thinking n shit spirals. lewis stops singing. val is miserable. george just wants his room back. smth smth)
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whateveriwant · 10 months
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Task force 141 reacting to their very pregnant wife still trying to clean, cook etc
This turned more into ‘Task force 141 preventing their very pregnant wife from trying to clean, cook, etc’ lmaooooo I hope that's alright
Price
HA! Good one!
No seriously, it's actually hilarious that you think you'd do anything for yourself when your hubby's around
That man has been waiting on you hand and foot since you first got together. So now that you're pregnant and you think he'd let you so much as lift a finger? You must have a serious case of pregnancy brain, sweetheart
Price is doing all the cooking, the cleaning, the running errands, etc. throughout the entirety of your pregnancy (and at least the first several months postpartum)
He's kept you practically bed bound these last few months to the point where you think there's a perfect indent of your body molded into the mattress
Seven months in, he's suddenly called away to a quick mission halfway across the globe, and you think finally you'll get some of your autonomy back...
Well, think again because who should show up at your door the next morning than your mother-in-law herself, ready to pick up where her son left off
She came at the behest of your husband, of course, and was armed with a detailed set of care instructions
What does your husband think you are? Some sort of one-of-a-kind, priceless artifact that needs special handling? (Actually that's exactly what you are. Price-less… I'll see myself out 🚶🏻‍♀️)
Ghost
When it comes to having some semblance of independence during your pregnancy, Ghost will give you a bit of a longer leash than Price, but only just so
You’re going for a walk around the neighborhood? Hold on, let him grab his coat to join you. Or you're going into the backyard to tend the garden? He'll pull the weeds while you water the plants
But when it comes to letting you do certain things, there are some hard nos that he will absolutely not budge on
You try to use a stepladder to reach the top of the cupboard? Stop! You'll break your neck! You try to pick up anything heavier than 10 pounds? Stop! Give it here! You try to drive?... Don't even fuckin' think about it, precious.
The farther along your pregnancy progresses, the better he gets at predicting (and intercepting) your next move
You were gonna do laundry today? Well, wouldn't you know, he's already got a load going in the washer. You were about to make dinner? Well shucks, he just ordered takeaway from that Greek place you love
His ability to read your mind is honestly impressive once you get past how damn annoying you find it. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're incapable of fending for yourself, and you're tired of him acting as if otherwise
But really, you can never get mad at anything he does for you. After all, what kind of a husband would he be if he didn't take care of his missus and your little one?
Soap
If you take Ghost’s cautiousness, mix it with Price’s thoroughness, and crank it up to an 11, you get Soap
From the moment he found out you were pregnant, he put your house into full lockdown mode, stopping just short of booby trapping the front door in case you got any funny ideas
You want some fresh air? Just open a window. You want to go for a walk and stretch your legs? Just take a few turns about the living room like you're some Austenian heroine
Don't let him catch you doing any kind of physical labor, because so help him Jesus he will grab a spray bottle and use it like you're a feral alleycat he's trying to house-train (he wouldn't really... but don't test him)
You try to unload the dishwasher? Ehrr! Wrong move. You try to remake the bed? Ehrr! Nice try. You try to mop up your own mess. Ehrr! Enough already. You try to– OCH, WOULD YE BLOODY SIT DOWN, WOMAN?!
For nine long months during his requested leave from work, your husband is attached to you like some kind of loving, smothering barnacle
But doesn't he miss his job, or the lads for that matter? What if the world needs saving? What will they do without him?
Well, (in his exact words) fuck the rest of the world! You're his world, bonnie, and he'll give you everything you could ever wish for and then some
Gaz
By far, you have the most independence with Gaz than you would with any of the other three men… at least, at the beginning of your pregnancy, that is
Once you get to around five or six months he becomes just as helicopter-y as all the others; he's just ever so slightly more bearable, perhaps
There's lots of peeking his head around the corner to check on you throughout the day or appearing seemingly out of thin air whenever you're doing something he'd rather you wouldn't
You've lost count of the number of times you've been in the middle of cooking or hanging up the laundry or whatever and his hand has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gently taking the object from you before directing you to sit and rest
And like, look. He knows you can handle yourself. He knows you could conquer the whole world if you wanted to. That's one of the things he loves about you the most
But seeing you like this – so fragile, so vulnerable, so beautiful and soft and pregnant with his child; his child – it just… It makes him…
He just needs to do these things for you, alright, love? Just let him take care of you, please? Would you let him do that?
You already have so much you have to carry. Let him ease some of the burden off your shoulders. Let him do these small things for you because they don't even compare to all that you're doing for him 🥲
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shotmrmiller · 3 months
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simon who can afford a better flat than the budget friendly flat he lives in but won't move. johnny doesn't understand. he wants to blame it on simon being the enigmatic, intentionally perplexing man he tends to be but he has a flat.
he doesn't have to. he's got no significant other, no kids (that he knows of, god only knows if simon's got a bairn somewhere. it makes him heated thinking about it. he's it's uncle, damn it.) why does he rent here when living in base is free?
the question answers itself when he's over one evening, empty beer bottles on the table, amber glass reflecting the warm glow of the lone lamp overhead. the television is on, volume turned down, blending with the other sounds of the night— the distant barking of dogs, the quiet hum of simon's fridge, the occasional car passing by outside.
the conversation had died down already, not like they don't spend almost every waking breath with each other at work and they'd been sitting in a comfortable silence when there was a sudden, sharp knock at simon's door.
it startles johnny, reaction instinctive as he reaches for his hip, hand curling around the grip of his holstered gun but simon seems relaxed. he pins him with a look and mutters, "s'alrigh'."
what does he mean it's alright? it's 'witchin' hour'' as his mam calls it, who could possible be at his door? he cranes his neck to look and—
it's you, standing up here with a flour-dusted apron, small hands holding a warm pastry, the steam twisting and curling off of it. you're exude homely charm, soft face glowing from the corridor's light (or maybe it's at the sight of seeing simon, who knows?) he can smell it in the air, sweet, inviting.
what johnny finds interesting enough to send a quick text to kyle is how simon is looking at you. as if you're handing him more than just a custard tart, but also a little piece of heaven, a fragment of a dream he hopes to have one day.
"'m sorry, simon. i wasn't aware you had any company. i just really needed to stress bake or i would've gone off the deep end and end up in prison."
violent little bonnie. he can see the appeal.
simon cups his hands over yours (he definitely did it as an excuse to touch you) as he takes the treat. if you make food to unwind and give it to your neighbors, johnny oughta move in next door too. he'll never turn down free food.
"don't worry about it." johnny's eyebrows shoot to his hairline at the softness in his tone, bottle halfway to his lips.
clearly more than a passing fancy.
"i'll just uhm, if you're friend wants some too—" but simon gently interrupts you before he can ask for some of that sweet comfort too.
"he's not hungry."
cruel, cruel bastard. he'll remember this day, jot it down in his calendar. when he gets a girl of his own, he'll be sure to do the same.
johnny wonders if you've got a crick in your neck from looking up at simon as you speak hushed words, meant only for him. can he get at least a nibble of that tart?
you shoot johnny a shy ㅤsmile before turning around and simon closes the door, turning back to the warming beers, golden tart in hand.
even the plate it's on is cute.
"ah can see the hearts in yer eyes, lt."
johnny can practically hear the air parting as simon's fist cuts through it, aimed at his head. he avoids it with practiced ease. "ooh, touchy. ah'll leave ye be if i get a bite o' tha'."
he doesn't gets not even a crumb because simon is selfish.
(simon moved here purposefully because he knows you live here and can't be at peace without knowing where you are at all times. there's a tag inside your favorite pair of shoes you left out in the hall once to dry after a hard downpour. the bakery you work at is down the street, if he looks out the south facing window, he can see you going in and leaving work. he likes to let himself in your home and smell your cushions. took one of your shirts too but at least made sure it wasn't one of your faves. he has to wash it every other day)
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augustinewrites · 11 months
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“hotter than jennifer lawrence, you say?”
nanami can tell that gojo’s having a hard time holding back his laughter as his student nods enthusiastically. this is the last time he’ll ever let them drag him out for a meal again.
“yeah! and oh man…” 
the blond chokes when yuuji gestures vaguely at his chest. this is why he never stays at the school over his lunch hour. 
gojo, wisely, pats the boy on the shoulder as nanami coughs. “alright, that’s enough out of you. even though i agree, you better stop before the vein in nanamin’s forehead bursts.”
the conversation grinds to a halt, gojo visibly stiffening as nanami's gaze narrows dangerously. “did you just say…that you agree?”
before gojo can open his mouth to defend himself, yuuji pipes up once more to add fuel to the fire.
“but it’s true!” the boy insists through a mouthful of food. “i’ve never had a teacher as hot as—”
“as hot as who?” you ask, suddenly standing at the end of their little table.
yuuji shuts up immediately, face turning as pink as his hair and he averts his gaze to the table and mumbles no one under his breath. 
nanami watches gojo beam up at you, then very bravely lets his eyes drift down to your chest for a split second.
but it’s a split second too long, and nanami is about to reach across the table and knock teacher and student’s idiot heads together when you lean down to press a kiss to his cheek.
“come on, love,” you say, smiling sweetly. “you promised you’d take me to that new dessert shop in the city.”
he’d made no such promise, but he gets up to follow you anyway, stripping his thick, autumn coat off and draping it over your shoulders.
with that, he wraps a possessive arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. 
“yuuji,” he begins. “this is my fiancée. she teaches at the school.”
you glance up at him, confused. “yes, we know each other, i’ve taught—”
“we’ll be off,” he cuts in, sending gojo a sharp look before guiding you out of the restaurant. 
he doesn’t let go of your waist until you’ve walked at least a block. it’s only then that he exchanged your waist for your hand.
he’s suddenly very wary of any other pedestrians looking at you, wondering if they’re thinking about what’s meant to be for his eyes and mind only.
“at first you looked like you needed saving in there,” you hum, using your free hand to hold onto his arm. “but…it seemed like they did, with the way you were glaring at them.”
“i wasn’t glaring,” he lies.
“you glare, darling. you may not notice it, but others certainly do. shoko calls it resting bitch face—”
“i do not have a resting bitch face. this is my…thinking face.”
“oh? then what were you thinking about?” you inquire.
“you,” he tells you truthfully. “and how lucky i am to have somebody so beautiful to come home to. someone hotter than jennifer lawrence, even.”
you smile into the kiss he leans down to press to your lips, looping your arms around his neck to pull him closer and murmur…
“you’re going to get very lucky tonight.”
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