#simp counter : 2

[breathinlove]

band!ellie headcanons and smau

read this

sinopse: ellie williams is the lead singer in a band (+some texts with her). i lost the resquest im so sorry!

cw: nsfw after the texts with warning! swearing, ellie's a changed woman after you, reader works in a record store and ellie's a simp.

part 2

band!ellie who is obviously in a band with dina and jesse.

band!ellie who had cat in the band when they started, but they had massive drama when they broke up. (they're on good terms now tho! trust).

band!ellie who had a phase where her and jesse liked dina the fans call it throuple era

band!ellie who got matching flash tattoos on her very first serious show with dina and jesse.

band!ellie who is kind of a fuckgirl and looooves her fans iykwim.

“just until i find the wife.” that's her lame excuse.

band!ellie who is the type of girl to have groupies and sign their tits.

band!ellie mets you at the fuckass record store where you work.

"is that you?" you gather the courage to ask about what she was buying and she smiles proudly. "it's our debut album." "congrats." you sigh before lifting your head to continue. "i bought one this morning when they came in, thought it looked cool." and she has to ask for your number cause why the hell did that make her heart melt.

band!ellie who just looks like she's never kissed before when you're the one to initiate the first kiss. (:0)

band!ellie who 3 dates in invites you to one of her local shows, having you in the front line (eye contact goes insane...).

band!ellie who makes her thristy fans they bite their tongue when she leans over to you at the edge of the stage. singing to you, fingers on your chin.

band!ellie who soon enough is on tour and texting you less. you try to move on (you're soooo wrong for that because she's just busy and thinking about you).

band!ellie always talking about you to dina and jesse.

“i need to get back to my girl.” she's so delusional too.

band!ellie who is instantly only focused on you, weirdly adding your name in every cover of romantic songs they do at rehearsal.

band!ellie who the first thing she does when she's back is run to the record store.

“how was the tour?” you asked, she's leaning on the counter and you take a step back. she replied with an “i missed you.” and you're not even hesitanting anymore.

band!ellie who wastes no time asking you to be her girlfriend after you cuss her out because she was late to one of your dates (she thinks it's hot asf).

band!ellie who is soooo daddy upstage but you know she wants and NEEDS to be babied.

band!ellie who notices you were upset she had a show your birthday, so she called you on stage and serenaded you as if she was justin bieber… flowers and everything. (she sang “one less lonely girl”)

her fr^

band!ellie who when she's out and fans stop her… she's so sweet and attentive but she wouldn't want to be late to see you

“sorry girls, the wife is waiting i have to go.”

texts with band!ellie

nsfw (cw: cunnilingus [e!receiving], strap on sex [r!receiving]. switch!ellie!!!!).

band!ellie who absolutely loves good luck head when you're backstage.

“baby just needs some encouragement, am i right?” you ask softly between open mouthed kisses on her lower stomach and thighs. she nods. “yes… need your tongue.” she grunts, thrusting her hips. you start licking and kissing her slit and she can't help but grind against your tongue until she cums all over it.

band!ellie who loves it when you ride her strap too, but she has to switch out and completely dick you down… with permission after not touching you for so long.

“please let me fuck that pussy.” she knows you're getting tired, since you didn't even slap her hand when she started rubbing your clit. “come on…” she spits down your clit. “tired, babe?” you nod breathlessly grinding on her lap. she fucks up into you “tell me i can fuck you…” but she's already doing it?? “f-fuck me, ellie.” and now she's grining and holding you flat. “damn, this pussy's split open.” as she bottoms that shit deep in you. she will fuck you stupid.

a/n: this is a lot but i enjoyed doing it... and.... my phone's charged!

[murdrdocs]

HAUNTING YOUR BED. mike schmidt

description. you, mike, and abby bake a chocolate cake and mike gets to taste it from your lips

→ pt 2 to nothing real

includes. GN! reader (i think), simp mike, abby !!!!, fluff galore, more pining, more domesticity, kissing, one boner mention

wc: 2.2k+

a/n: finally wrote a pt 2 to something who would've thought. title from haunt//bed

When Mike opens the door, he’s too tired to see straight. 

His shift ended earlier than he originally anticipated and since he’d clocked out, his body was begging for a shower and sleep. Maybe even just sleep, depending on how comforting his bed looked. If he could tolerate it, maybe even a few bites of a frozen meal. 

This is his original plan. 

But somehow due to the sleep induced haze, Mike had forgotten that you were babysitting Abby tonight. Not the sitter that had taken your place for a couple of nights, completely incomparable to you to the point where Mike didn’t even waste his time. Abby, though, spent a solid ten minutes each night complaining about the temporary sitter and another five minutes longing for you. 

(Mike felt the same but he would never let Abby know lest he wanted you to find out within 2 business days) 

So truthfully, whenever Mike opens the door, he’s too tired to see straight, and then as soon as he steps into his home, his vision clears up just enough to see you in the kitchen and his body introduces a burst of energy spurred on by your light squeal and suddenly he can tolerate an hour spent with you and Abby. 

“Shit!” your swear shocks Abby as much as it does Mike, the word foreign to his ears from your mouth but it sounds completely natural when you say it. It’s small, a tiny detail, but it reminds Mike that he doesn’t know you. At least, not the you that exists out of the four walls of the Schmidt household. 

He doesn’t know what you wear when you’re not babysitting, or what your nonprofessional personality is like. He’s sure you’re more or less the same, but for some reason, Mike wants to consider the opposite. 

Despite his rampant overthinking, Abby points at the jar sitting on the end table towards the entrance of the home. 

“Swear jar!” she alerts you. Or maybe it’s more of a command. Either way, you shamefully step away from the counter, wipe your hands on the apron you wear, and start to walk out of the kitchen. 

Mike guesses you’re heading for your purse, which he assumes is most likely sitting on the bench in front of the window where it usually is. Your plans are halted when you’re made aware of Mike’s presence, and when you say “oh”, Mike feels like he’s living his days over again. 

Just a few weeks ago, a similar circumstance, a similar feeling. 

Mike touches his hair at the memory, hoping it’s long enough to warrant another cut from you, but it’s the perfect length and he drops his hand. 

“Hey,” he greets you first, trying to remain calm and behave how he usually does. But suddenly he doesn’t know how to. Does he usually say ‘hey’? Or has he been saying ‘hi’ this entire time and didn’t realize it? Maybe even ‘hello’? 

You seem to care less about that than Mike does, greeting him back casually and then continuing your journey to your purse. Mike watches as you dig around in it for a second, pull a dollar out, and then slide it through the created slip in the top of the mason jar. 

Then, you reenter the kitchen and Mike suddenly realizes that time has been moving around him and he’s been stuck between it all, too enamored by you engaging in minute movements to do so himself. 

He throws his keys in the bowl and slips his shoes off. 

“What’s uh …” He steps into the kitchen, attempting to get a glimpse at what Abby is doing. She’s staring down at the counter, standing on a small step stool that makes her a lot taller than the counter instead of being a few inches off. “What’s going on in here?” 

Abby turns around, and Mike gets a glimpse of a big plastic bowl in front of her, along with the carton of eggs, the jug of vegetable oil, and a cake mix box. 

If he needs even more clarification, Abby happily declares: “We’re making a cake!” 

Initially, Mike’s upset. His logical (grumpy, in Abby’s words) side comes out and he’s thinking about how at least two eggs that could’ve been used for breakfast has gone down the drain and cake provides no nutritional value so not only is Abby going to be hungry, she’s also going to be bouncing off the walls from the sugar intake. 

His thoughts show on his face, just like they always do, and then Mike is looking over at you from where you’re grabbing the whisk out of the drawer and your head lifts. “I dropped the shells into the bowl,” you add, initially oblivious to Mike’s inner turmoil. Your mishap explains your out of character swearing, and Mike would comment on it but instead he’s trying to make his face neutral. 

But you see it, the exhaustion and slight frustration and worry. 

You send him a smile that’s nothing more than one side of your lips pulling into your cheek, pronouncing the apple of it that presents a faux complimentary color to your skin tone. You look … upset? Are you upset? 

Mike can’t tell and this makes him feel worse. 

He decides that instead of pouting and grumbling about it, he unzips his jacket, throws it onto the kitchen table, rolls the sleeves of his thermal up, and then steps to join you two. 

“Let me help.” 

Mike ends up wearing a pink apron that he knows for sure does not belong to the Schmidt household. At least, it didn’t whenever he left for work. 

Mike attempts to hide his surprise whenever Abby excitedly tells him that you brought the apron for him. His eyebrows lift, he looks over at you, and you’re suddenly really focused on the written instructions on the back of the cake box even though they really are incredibly simple. 

“Really? She did?” 

Abby hums and Mike hopes you’ll look over at him, but you don’t, instead gnawing on your bottom lip and squinting as you concentrate even harder. 

“Mm. It’s cute. I like it.” And that’s when you lift your eyes, sending them over to Mike to give him a quick once over. 

“It suits you,” you compliment, just before putting the box down and grabbing the cake pan. 

Some time has passed. The cake has been baked, decorated (white frosting with pink, green, and yellow swirls from Abby), and eaten with slightly freezer burnt ice cream. Abby has pouted when Mike declared one giant slice was enough for her. 

The shower has turned on and off, Abby has run into the living room to give you a hug and say goodnight, and now comes the part that Mike hates the most. 

He’s still tired, maybe minutely more energetic from the sugary cake, but his body is still begging for a good rest. Yet, he doesn’t want you to leave. 

You start to grab your things, jacket pulled back on, purse thrown over your shoulder. Just before you can slip your shoes on, Mike stands from his spot on the recliner. 

“Do you want another slice?” He gestures lamely at the cake on the kitchen table. “We can’t eat this all on our own and I refuse to let Abby try.” 

A small laugh from you as you shake your head. “No, it’s okay. Abby should be able to enjoy the fruits of her labor.” 

“She’ll enjoy it too much until she has a cavity and I have a dentist bill.” A pause where your eyes shift over to the cake, then back to Mike. 

“I really don’t want to overstay my welcome.” 

“If that’s what you’re worried about then you’ve got it all wrong.” Mike replies as he walks to the cabinets, pulling out two small plates and then two forks right beneath it. He slices the cake, the pieces almost proportionate but you seem to have gotten just a bit more. 

Maybe it’ll take you longer to eat and Mike will be in your presence for just a bit more. 

It’s silent for just a few moments before you’re talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. 

Raves about the cake the three of you made turns into reminiscing about the triple chocolate cake they used to serve at Sparky’s before they underwent new management. The talk of new management turns into you ranting to Mike about the manager at your day job and Mike listens intensely, thrilled to have a new piece of information to add to the puzzle of your life. When you apologize, a little shy and maybe even embarrassed, Mike shakes it off instantly. 

“Don’t apologize for speaking your mind,” he tells you. You joke about the line being poetic and Mike finds himself revealing that he used to write teenage angst poetry in his bedroom at night. When you laugh, it’s not as if you’re belittling him, it’s different. Light, airy, filled with enthusiastic shock and a little bit of wonder. 

It makes him laugh, too, and for a moment he forgets that his sister is sleeping just down the hall. 

You both seem to remember at the same time, laughter tapering off into small intakes of air and then fizzling off completely in the vibrant night air. 

He glances at the clock on the wall. 

10:47. 

“It’s getting late,” Mike thinks out loud. 

When he turns back to you, you look a little sadder. “I guess I should get going then, yeah?” 

Shit. Mike wants the opposite. He wants you to stay over for the night. He’ll take the couch if it means you’ll take his bed. He wonders if the small space would smell like you afterwards. He pictures you sleeping in his clothes, forced to wear them instead of the jeans and sweater you wear now. 

He’s thinking too far ahead. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

You stand anyway, taking a final bite of your cake before you set the fork down. There’s still a tiny piece left, waiting for you, just as Mike is. 

He stands too. 

“No, it’s okay. You have work in the morning and I shouldn’t be on the road this late anyway.” Your jacket is zipped up, your purse is back over your shoulders. 

Mike says your name, firm despite the low volume. It’s vulnerable, a plea almost. It stops you, makes you look at him with wide and wondering eyes. 

It’s on him now. He’s the one who has to speak. 

He takes a breath. He licks his lips. 

“I would like it if you stayed. Honest.” 

His admission has weight to it. The words are that of a concerned friend, but the way his hands nervously play with his jeans and the way his eyes bounce around the room with your frame as a continuous anchor says much more than the eight words could have. 

Your voice just barely shakes when you speak. “Tell me I’m reading this wrong.” 

He shakes his head. “You’re not.” 

In the nervous energy that rakes through Mike’s body, it’s unclear to him who moves first. All he knows is one moment he’s staring into your eyes, and then the next his lips are against yours. 

The kiss is soft, nothing more than the lengthened press of lips against lips. His hand cradles the side of your face, yours bunches the fabric of his thermal around his bicep. And while it might be nothing objectively, it’s so much to Mike. For him to finally feel your lips against his, rougher than he imagined but even that means something to him. 

It’s euphoric. 

Your lips pull back from each other, but neither of you move. So, Mike is clear this time whenever he initiates, giving you one more safe kiss before he starts moving his lips against yours. Still, it’s polite, just like you deserve. 

His free hand presses into your middle back, pulling your chest into his. He tilts his head just a little for comfort. He’s holding back. 

You, on the other hand, aren’t. 

You pull Mike impossibly closer to you by his shirt, your other hand digging into the short hair at the back of Mike’s head. You turn the kiss into one of more desperation, parting your lips to introduce open mouthed kisses instead, slipping your tongue against his. 

Mike is trying to keep his composure as he reciprocates. He’s trying to muffle his little sounds before they even come out, push them down his throat. But they climb up anyway, jumping from his mouth to yours with the access. 

He can’t control himself whenever your body is pressed against his. He can’t hold back when he tastes the chocolate cake on the tip of your tongue and the mint leftover from the gum you’d been chewing earlier in the night. He presses his hips against yours, shamelessly displaying the tent that’s growing. He runs his hands along your sides and back and hips, feeling every curve he has analyzed with only his eyes from afar. You’re softer up close and it makes Mike want to feel you as you are, devoid of any clothing to cover you. He hopes he’ll get his wish soon. 

You pull away and Mike has to restrain himself from following your lips. 

“If I stay over,” his ears instantly perk up. “Can I wear your plaid pajama pants?” 

The grin he gives you is genuine. It hurts his cheeks and heals his soul. 

“Of course.”

[satoruxx]

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: best friend!satoru is everything to me, fluff, teeny tiny bit angsty, but only bc of pining (my favorite), here to add to my simp satoru agenda, he’s trying his best but reader is oblivious (same), pls notice him rheya’s note: i cant stop thinking about best friend!satoru so i’m here to share this silly little blurb LMAO that’s it enjoy !! part 2

if satoru had known that being your best friend would be this difficult, he would have turned away from you when you said hi to him on your first day at jujutsu high.

it's not that he doesn't care about you. no, quite the opposite actually. he's always cared about you more than he'd like to admit. he can remember the way he used track the eyes of fellow students trailing you when you walked by. he can remember the sting of his nails as they dug into his clenched palms, and how suguru would pat his shoulder sympathetically when he noticed. he was sixteen at the time.

back then it seemed like he would grow out of his teenage crush, after being dismissed as your good friend for so long. but no, just his luck that these stupid feelings would grow and grow until they were tangled up around his very soul. a vice-like grip.

and now almost seven years later, nothing has changed.

"and he told me that if i wanted to be more interesting i should learn to fence, like he does!" you rant, throwing your hands up as you pace the length of his kitchen. satoru leans against the counter, arms crossed as he watches you vent your anger over yet another failed first date.

"uh huh." he acknowledges, trying to stay focused as you continue your annoyed speech. his fingers flex against his biceps, a thinly veiled attempt at controlling his frustration. whether he's frustrated with you or the man you were with, he has no clue.

"then he asked me where i was from, and then said i didn't look like it!" you rage, face hot as you finally unload the frustration you've been carrying all evening.

satoru huffs in mild irritation, trying hard not to roll his eyes. but you hear it and turn to him, half ticked off and half curious. "what was that?"

he clicks his tongue.

"you do this all the time. you always pick guys who treat you like shit. i'm not even surprised anymore." he snaps, a bit more forceful than he intended to be.

there's a silence that follows, and satoru’s unlucky enough to catch the mildly surprised look on your face. he tongues his cheek, brows pinched as he watches your expression fall. an ugly feeling that reminds him suspiciously of guilt rolls around in his stomach.

"you’re right…" you sigh, shoulders slumping as you cross your arms with a defeated shake of your head. "it's just tiring, you know?"

he turns his back to you, reaching across the counter to start slicing up an apple, trying to keep his hands occupied because they're itching to touch you. but he can't keep the bitterness out of his tone when he answers with a clipped, "yeah i know."

he can practically feel your confused stare on his back. but then you chuckle in amusement, mirth clear in your tone. "what do you mean you know? you literally get attention from random people on the street. you can have anyone you want." you laugh.

"are you serious?" he asks, eyes wide with disbelief as he spins around to face you again. you only blink at him, expression so annoyingly clueless it makes him sigh. he turns away from you once again, going back to cutting the apple.

"what?" you cock your head, not understanding why he's so forlorn about it. "most people would jump at the chance to date you. everyone wants you, you know?"

"not everyone. not the one who matters." he mutters bitterly as he places the apple slices onto a plate. you said all of it so casually, like it's supposed to be obvious, but all satoru feels is an overwhelming wave of disappointment wash over him.

"you…never mind." he relents, biting his tongue. "it's not important."

he hears your sharp intake of breath as you gasp, curiosity no doubt brimming in your barely concealed grin.

"ooh interesting! are you telling me you have a thing for someone, toru?" the teasing in your tone is palpable, and satoru feels his stomach flip pleasantly when you say his name. he turns around to face you, letting his shoulders drop as a helpless smile stretches across his face.

he walks up to you, pushing an apple slice past your lips and chuckling quietly. you're still giving him those curious little eyes as you chew, and he tries to swallow down the overwhelming wave of pure affection that threatens to burst from within. clearly today wasn't the day you were going to realize what kind of feelings he's been keeping a secret for so many years.

that's okay. he'll wait as long as you need him to.

he flicks your forehead gently, before reaching down to tug on your cheek. "don't worry your pretty little head about that, sweet thing. you'll figure it out soon enough."

[rafesfavgirl]

gurl i neeed a part 2 of stop asking me to stay, that broke me😭😭😭

you ask, i deliver :) hope you like it!!

i don't regret a thing — r. cameron

part 1.

❝ we're not the only ones,  i don't regret a thing every word i've said, you know i'll always mean ❞

pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: you and rafe have been dating for seven months, and while the relationship started it out well, as soon as the honeymoon phase ended (about 3 months in), everything went to shit. you've been trying to put up with it, knowing the situation with ward, but tonight, you realize you've had enough.

words: 2.4k+

warnings: swearing, toxic relationship, mentions of drug use, mainly fluff, a little angst, might still make you cry. rafe being an absolute simp for you, basically.

rafe wakes up the next morning, faced-down on topper's living room couch with almost no recollection of what happened the night before. except one thing—you'd finally walked away from him.

"not enough to choose me. you give in every time." your words echo in his head, as he opens his eyes.

fuck. what did he do?

"good morning sunshine," kelce comes down the stairs and greets rafe, who looked as if he couldn't move from the couch. "you sleep well?"

"i slept like shit," rafe groans, finally sitting himself up. "what the hell happened last night?"

"you mean other than you getting coked out and royally screwing things over with y/n?" kelce sasses him. "not much bro."

rafe shoots him a glare. "i did not royally screw things over with y/n."

"are you sure about that?" kelce raises a brow at him. "cause i had to drive her home last night crying, bro."

rafe's ear perk up at kelce's confession of you crying over him. you wouldn't have. you were the one who broke up with him.

"she was crying?" rafe asks.

"do you seriously even have to ask?" kelce replies. "i can't even count on two hands how many times you've made her cry the last few months."

no, that couldn't be true. surely he hadn't made you cry that often.

"shut the fuck up kelce," rafe gets up from the couch in complete denial of how shitty he's treated you the last few months and makes his way over to the kitchen.

rafe opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of water, while kelce joins him in the kitchen.

"you know it's true," kelce says, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. "you just never see it, because she won't let you."

was he right?

"you know how y/n is, bro," kelce adds, as i take a sip of water. "she'll never let you know you're hurting her, because you fear nothing more than being the cause of her pain and losing her. but she's also not going to beg and cry for you to stay and fight for her."

i did know that. that's what i loved about her. she didn't necessarily play hard to get when i tried asking her out on a date after months of texting, but she didn't give in too easily either. she wanted me to prove i was serious about her before giving me a real chance. she knew her worth.

i recap the bottle i'm drinking from and set it down on the counter beside me, my eyes focused on kelce. "so what should i do?"

kelce holds his hands up. "if you don't know by now, i can't help you."

—

rafe wasn't an idiot. he knew what he had to do.

so, after going home and taking a shower to freshen up and get a change of clothes, he drove to the flower shop in town to get you a bouquet of lavender and baby's breath, then nothing bundt cakes to get your favorite treat—a white chocolate raspberry bundt cake—and finally, your house.

once he parked his truck in front of your house and got out, he went through his usual routine of rounding around to your backyard, where he moved the ladder the gardeners used towards your bedroom window.

he climbed up and knocked, balancing the flowers and bundt cake in one hand.

you were sitting in bed watching after we fell on your laptop with a box of tissues beside you and puffy, red eyes when you hear the knock on your window.

without even thinking about it, you already knew who it was. this was just what he did. and against your better judgment, you got up from your bed, and walked over to pull the curtains open and find rafe outside with a regretful look on his face, a bouquet of flowers and a small box of your favorite treat.

slowly, but surely, you unlock the window and pull it up.

"i'm sorry," he speaks before you can, and you scoff.

"you know, i'm getting real sick of hearing you say that," you reply, turning around to walk away and reposition yourself back on your bed, while he slips in through your window.

"i got you flowers," he offers you a small smile and holds both items out to you. "and your favorite bundt cake. white chocolate raspberry."

your eyes shift from the gifts in his hand to his piercing blue eyes. they were no longer dark like they were last night, but there was a sense of uncertainty in them. like he wasn't sure he could win you back.

"so what? am i suppose to just forgive you? just like that?" you retort.

he lets out a sigh, and takes a seat at the edge of your bed, placing both items down on your bed next to your box of tissues. he finally gets a good look at you—from the messy bun on your head, to the bags under your eyes from barely getting any sleep last night, to your red, puffy eyes—and realizes just how badly he's messed up this time.

"i should've just fucked all those other girls. at least they know how to have fun." he still couldn't believe he said those words to you last night.

"i don't deserve your forgiveness," he admits. "i know that. but i want it, y/n. and i'm willing to work for it."

while those words were music to your ears, you were apprehensive. he apologizes every time. and while things do change for a while, they're never permanent. and a week or two from now, you'd be back in this same situation again. was that really worth it?

"i know i don't deserve any more chances," he continues, his eyes only focused on yours. "but i promise… i promise just give me one more and you won't regret it."

your eyes shift between his. he looked a little… scared? was he really that afraid to lose you?

"i don't know, rafe," you say honestly, shifting a little. "you've hurt me so bad… i don't know if i can take you doing it one more time."

"i'm not going to," he immediately shakes his head and reaches out to take your hands in his, fiddling with your fingers and glancing down at them. "please, baby, please. just let me show you i'm the guy for you. that i can be the guy you need and want me to be."

"how?"

"you'll give me a chance?" he asks, his eyes lighting up at the idea of being given another chance to win you back. 

despite your brain screaming at you not to, your heart wins over and you nod. you couldn't help it. every part of you yearned for him. and if he was willing to show you that he really could be the guy you knew he was—the guy you fell in love with—then maybe it would be worth it.

"wear something nice," he says. "i'll come back to pick you up at seven."

—

at exactly seven on the dot, you hear rafe park his car in front of your house, and look out your bedroom window to see him dressed in skinny black slacks and a long sleeve, white button down carrying a bouquet of red roses as he walked towards your driveway and front door.

you can't help the small smile that forms on your face as you hurry to strap your heels on and look at yourself in the mirror one more time, before grabbing your purse off your vanity and heading down the stairs.

"where are you heading off to?" your mom asks when you pass by the living room, all dressed up.

"date with rafe," you reply, walking towards the front door.

your parents had never been rafe's biggest fan—they weren't exactly unaware of how often he's made you cry the last couple of months—but they also knew they couldn't stop you from dating whoever you wanted, so they never fought you on it, and you were grateful for that. it was comforting to know they'd support you no matter what happened.

taking a deep breath, you place your hand on the doorknob, and finally open the door when the bell rings.

rafe's eyes instantly widen at the sight of you, his eyes trailing down your body wrapped in a tight, short, satin red dress. "wow," he gasps. "you- you look…"

your cheeks redden at his loss of words. "you don't clean up too bad yourself, cameron."

he smiles at your use of his last name as a nickname, and holds the red roses in his hand out to you. "these are for you."

"you already got me flowers this morning, you know," you joke, taking the bouquet from him. your mom was gonna be pleased to know rafe was back to filling up all her flower vases.

"i know, but…" he trails off. "you deserve the best."

the blush on your cheeks deepen at his words. "give me a second," you turn to walk back towards the living room, and set the bouquet down on the coffee table in front of your parents. "don't wait up."

they don't even get a word in before you're walking away again to join rafe outside.

"shall we?" you ask, looking up at him through your lashes, as you closed the door behind you.

"just… one more thing," a sly smile comes across his lips, as he reaches into his back pocket to pull out a black blindfold.

you stare at it, your mouth agape. "you're kidding, right?"

he shrugs, "i want it to be a surprise."

you groan, but give in anyway. "fine. but if i trip in these heels because i can't see where i'm going, consider us broken up for good."

he laughs at the threat, even though a part of him was afraid you still wouldn't forgive him after tonight. "you know i won't let that happen. turn around."

you do as he says, and he ties the blindfold around your eyes, before taking your hand in his and leading you down the driveway towards his car parked up on the curb. he opens the door for you, and carefully helps you into the passenger seat, before closing the door and rounding the car to get in the driver's seat.

the second the engine comes on, your romantic taylor swift playlist plays through the car's speakers.

"you didn't," you say. he would always complain when you had aux because she was all you'd ever play.

"i guess she's not too bad," rafe shrugs, chuckling as you began singing along to the lyrics of wildest dreams.

rafe continued driving through the island for another ten or fifteen minutes, before he finally pulled the car to a stop in front of his family's beach house on the edge of figure eight, completely secluded from everything else.

he gets out of the car first, and helps you out, taking your hand in his to lead you through the house and out to the back porch.

"are you ready?" he leans in towards your ear, and goosebumps rise along your skin at his proximity.

you nod, and he reaches his hands up to the back of your head to untie the blindfold.

it takes a little while for your eyes to adjust, but once they do, a feeling of warmness fills your heart at the sight in front of you.

red rose petals were scattered in the sand of the private beach, along with fairy lights, a candlelit table for two set up in the center of it all, as acoustic instrumentals of taylor's best love songs played through the speaker situated on the porch.

"you like it?" he asked.

you turn your head to look at him. "rafe, i… it's perfect."

"that's what i was going for," he shrugs smugly, and nods his head towards the set up. "come on."

you both remove your shoes, before he takes your hand in his again and leads you down the back porch to the table in the middle of the beach.

"i can't believe you did this for me," you say, as he pulls a chair out for you to sit in.

"i'd do anything for you," he smiles, taking the seat across from you once you're seated.

—

after a three course dinner and a bottle of wine, which was all served to the both of you by a waiter that rafe hired from the country club, the night slowly came to an end, an endless amount of stars filling the night sky above you.

but while you were focused on the stars, rafe was focused on you.

"god, you're beautiful," he says, causing you to look at him now.

you chuckle, "shut up."

"no, i'm fucking serious," he replied, standing up from his seat.

you watched him carefully as he walked over to you, and held a hand out.

you glance at his hand and tilt your head up at him, "what are you doing?"

"dance with me," he says.

"you're asking me to dance?" you raise a brow at him.

"mhm," he nods. "you gonna say yes?"

"well how can i say no?" you reply, a small smile forming on your lips as you put your hand in his.

he leads you a few feet away from the table, and rests a firm hand on your waist, as you trail a hand up to his shoulder.

he locks his eyes with yours as you both begin swaying to taylor's timeless, and scans your face.

"what?"

he shakes his head, "i don't deserve you..."

"rafe…"

"but i'm gonna do everything i can to make sure i become the kind of guy who does," he cuts me off. "i want to be better, y/n. not only for you, but for myself too."

you smile, and pull him closer, your hand snaking to the back of his head.

"i'm sorry for being such an ass the last few months," he says, and you close my eyes, taking the moment in as he continues. "i know i haven't deserved all the chances you've given me, but i'm not gonna disappoint you again. i want to be the guy you think i am."

you pull away, just enough to have your eyes lock with his.

"you are that guy, rafe," you tell him, and you mean it. "you just need to let him show more."

he smiles, "you're pretty damn amazing, you know that?"

"so i've been told," you shrug jokingly.

he chuckles. "i love you, y/n."

"i love you too."

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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[afterthatidontknow]

—𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚, 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩—

pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary . you both knew you would never be able to be together — so you had to take the shot, even if it would be the only and one time.

warnings . smut! I am not responsible for your content consumption! bottom! Natasha, soft sex, praise kink (?), cunninglingus, face riding, fingering, multiple orgasms, forbidden love, Red Room trope in general, non graphic violence, implied sexual harassment (Dreykov), cursing, angst.

notes . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so I apologize for any spelling errors. feel free to leave any advice though!

disclaimer: they're both 18, before the graduation ceremony.

highschool sweethearts thing because I'm a simp for it. ^^

divider credits: @benkeibear

"Love is for children." they'd say, "love is a weakness." so how the hell did you manage? Natasha wondered, how did you kept the facade, even with all the things that happened between you, in secrecy from the rest of the widows — from Madam B, and from General Dreykov?

Because even her, one of their best widows, was starting to lose it.

Ever since the beggining, you were the most ruthless, emotionless, cruel widow they had. You couldn't remember your life before the Red Room, because it never existed. They took you from your parents when you were 2, and your training started by the age of 4.

You could swear you were born like that — cursed, without a heart. You never cared for anyone, for anything. Your only task was rob, torture, kill. Because the apple doensn't fall far away from the tree.

But somehow, that girl still managed to change you.

When Madam B put the redhead as your opponent, was when your whole perspective of life, of being, changed. God, you hated her. She had everything you ever wished to have — the longing for a family, the care for people, the gentleness. That showed whenever you went on a mission together — it wasn't a part of her characters, it was herself. When she spoke to you about Yelena and how she tried to protect her, when she took you to the dark warehouse to take care of your bruises.. especially when she insisted on covering your ears and mumbling a russian lullaby to muffle the sounds of the other girls screams in the night.

She taught you what love was. And that made you want to kill her. To kiss her. To tear her apart. To make her scream, and not from pain.

Dreykov always made it clear that romance, or even the slightest display of affection would result in severe punishment, or worse, execution. That was because he knew that the widows would never be able to find a partner outside his walls, so finding that need between each other was the only way out.

Yet, Natasha and you had an advantage point — you were the best of the best, the most talented widows. So first: he wouldn't suspect anything, and second: he couldn't kill his best agents. It would be his loss.

That's how she became your little secret. You were an hell of an expert, because you never let your feelings get in your job. Neither did Natasha, but it still shocked her.

It started with a simple peck on the lips by the age of 13, in the farris wheel of the amusement park you were undercover. Your cart was the one on the top, where you could see all the atractions from, and no one could see you. You tried to convince yourself it was just teenage curiosity, but it still led to that.

The hotel room of Belgium, Brussels.

You never knew the simple mission on breaking in a bank was gonna lead to that.

Natasha did everything in a rush, knowing that you could do it smoothly, but just to be able to spend a little more time with you. Like now.

You sighed deeply, leaning against the sink's counter and looking at your reflexion in the mirror. The cut on your forehead was stinging a little, but you decided not to pay attention. The redhead walked in the bathroom, just not expecting to see you only in a black lace bra and the black tights of the vest. You heard the click of the door, but showed little emotion. "Hey, Red."

"Oh, Y/n..." she whispered, her eyes searching for yours, wanting to know if you wanted her to leave. You gave her a shake of your head and a small smile. She walked through the door with a soft exhale. "I already settled the guns and all the weapons. I also wrote the reports, in case you're wondering."

"You spoil me too much," you smirked tiredly. "You do all of that just to have me a little more, don't you?"

Your joke made her look down a little. "Yes," she whispers.

"You do?" you raised an eyebrow, not expecting her to affirm. "Well.. we still have 5 hours before they retreat us, so.."

"Your forehead," Natasha cuts you off, frowning in concern, rushing to check on you. Her hands went to hold your shoulders as she studied the cut — she only realized your lips parted and your gaze at her when she felt the straps of the bra beneath her hands.

"It's fine," you whispered, clearing your throat. Natasha looked away for a brief second, before looking into your eyes again.

"It's not, let me patch you up—"

You shook your head, placing your hands on her waist and leaning in, shutting her up with a long, gentle kiss. You pulled away and met Natasha's dreamy gaze, her eyes a little disoriented.

"Y/n..." the redhead mumbled, her eyes fluttering close and her head dropping to your shoulder, as she sighed.

"God, the way you look out for me makes me so weak." you chuckled, your palm rubbing her back, fingernails grazing her skin. "You know you don't have to do that. I can take care of myself just fine."

"I don't care," she said, lifting her head again to get herself lost in your eyes once more.

The graduation ceremony was coming soon, and you couldn't care less about that — but with her, it was different. You both knew what the ceremony actually meant, and Natasha was scared. She didn't want her dignity off her. And not knowing how to deal with this, she just wanted to protect you, in a way to comfort herself, her heart.

"It's gonna be okay, Natalia," you smile, planting a little kiss on the tip of her nose. "It's not gonna be the first surgery they perform on us. Besides, I'm gonna be with you as soon as you're back on the dormitory, okay?"

"It's just," Natasha gulped, her arms wrapping around herself. She was thinking far, of the future. "Who's gonna want a woman who can't even do the basics? Who's gonna want a woman who can't give birth to a baby?"

"Me." you simply said, placing your hand on her cheek, Nat immediately leaning into the touch. "I will. Because when we're out, we're getting married." you giggled. "Wasn't that our promise 4 years ago, when we were 14?"

Natasha's eyes snapped back to you. It was clear she didn't want to think of that as a joke — she had to show you how much she felt for you. And she wanted- needed you to reciprocate her. So she completely forgot of all the damn rules. She grabbed the back of your neck, and unintentionally pushed you up against the wall, kissing you with urgency.

Your eyes widened in surprise, but fluttered close again as the shock vanished. Your hands went to hold her waist again, tightening as you felt her press herself against you.

"Nat..." you whispered against her lips, breaking the kiss. She looked at you, her lips grazing yours again, your noses brushing.

"It's our only chance," she whines. "We were pleasure toys for men since we were little, can't we have something real for once? Before everything falls apart?"

Your breathing hitches as she says that. You let your eyes close, guiding her backwards and outside the bathroom, towards the bed.

"It's forbidden, but who the fuck cares? Who knows if we're not getting killed someday, or if Dreykov send us to different bases and we never see each other again?"

"Natalia," you shake your head, shakily breathing. "Everything I've done, everything I did was for one reason — having you by my side."

Natasha whimpered, sitting you down on the bed and standing between your legs. "Y/n, I want to see you."

"Then do it." you replied with no hesitance. "you're the only one who I'd consent to, Natalia."

At this point, you swore you forgot everything else than how she slowly unattached the hostler from your hips, pulling the tights and panties down and breathing rapidly by the sight of you semi-naked in front of her. Before she could do anything else, you stood up, hand moving to zip down the tight suit they made you wear. Natasha whined, leaning herself into your hands.

"So impatient," you whispered, finishing with the zipper and removing the fabric of her body, taking your time to do so. She held your shoulders and let you slip it down her legs — along with her panties, which she wasn't expecting. Natasha gasped quietly as the air hit her core, making you smile softly and stand up again.

"Darling," you cooed, hands moving to her back as your face found shelter on her neck, gently nibbling and kissing there. "you're so pretty it hurts,"

"Y/n," the redhead almost moaned, tilting her head back to grant you more access. She felt the straps of her bra slide down her shoulders and bit her lip as her breasts were freed, the lack of the tight clothing giving both of you an immense relief. In a moment, your lace lingerie was gone too.

"You're so gorgeous..." you whispered in her ear, your fingers tracing all the scars on her body, which you were sure you already had memorized. "And you are mine."

"Yes," she nodded, wrapping her arms around your waist. The skin on skin contact from someone she actually trusted felt too good, too much. "Yes, yes I'm yours."

Natasha then gently sat you down again on the edge of the bed, taking your breath away as she kneeled down in front of you, her hands gently pushing your knees apart and holding them open like this.

"God," she whimpered, leaning her face to slowly press kisses on your inner thighs, your back arching a little with the contact.

You took a moment to look at her dreamily, your slender fingers going to tangle in her red hair and play with it softly. "Lyubovmoya, (my love,)"

Natasha swore she could cry now, from the intense emotions building up within her. She couldn't wait anymore. So she did just that — diving into you, her mouth finding your pussy, her tongue inside you, tasting you, savouring the sweetness reserved only for her.

"Fuck, malyshka, (baby,)" you moaned, the sensation of being filled by someone who wouldn't harm you almost sending you over the edge already. "Yes, just like that,"

Natasha whimpered softly, licking the juices that were already spilling out of you, her tongue moving in circular motions against your clit.

"Nat," your head tilted back, hips bucking against her face as your climax approached. "I'm coming, Nat, I—"

She moaned against your folds as you came, licking all of your arousal, her tongue fucking you through your orgasm. After a while, she pulled her head back and looked up at your face.

"You're so fucking beautiful between my legs like that." you murmured breathlessly, smiling in bliss. Natasha blushed, you could tell she really liked your praises. "Are you really ready for more?"

"This is such a bad idea," she lifted herself from between your legs and smiled weakly, straddling your thigh again and gently pushing your back against the bed. "But the best we'd ever have."

You giggled, crawling further back the bed and laying your head on the pillow, your hands pulling her on top of you. Natasha thought of everything but that.

"Y/n," she bit her lip, getting a little shy. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"Don't be a hypocrite." you smirked softly. It wasn't going to be the first time she had suffocated you with her thighs, one of her combat skills. "Let me taste you too."

Natasha carefully placed her hands on the headboard, lifting herself up and lowering her thighs around your head, so hesitant. You gently squeezed her flesh and pulled her flush against your face, making her gasp a little in surprise. In a second, she felt your tongue inside her. So that's how it felt.

"Oh my," she whimpered, closing her eyes tightly, as she slowly started to grind herself against you.

You moved your hands up her thighs, to her hip bone, running your fingers across the bullet scar she had there. There was no doubt that, of all the Red Room academy, Natasha was the one who most took the harshness from Dreykov — sometimes for punishment, for the so called reward for being a good widow, or even to protect you. So she deserved all the sweetness and care she could get, for once in her life.

"More.." she breathed, her eyes looking down at yours — not expecting you to be so skilled, looking closely at her as your mouth worked on her. Your eyes smiled at her, and she felt it.

"Such a good girl," you whisper, sending vibrations all over her body. You then inserted two fingers inside her, carefully laying her down on the bed and hovering your lips against hers. Not kissing her, yet. "As soon as we get out of here, I'll marry you. And I'll scream to the world that you're mine."

"Y/n," she cried, feeling a warm tear roll down her cheek — not knowing if it was the pleasure only, but also her emotions.

"I feel so lucky," you smiled, so softly, lips brushing against her cheek as you spoke. She giggled, her arms circling your neck. Natasha moaned as she felt your fingers brushing continuously against her g-spot, as if you knew her better than herself, and you did. "I would give the world to have you in my arms, and I have it, and I'll never let you go."

"Say that again." the redhead begged, bucking her hips against your hand.

"I'll never, ever let you go." you repeated, feeling her legs starting to shake. "Even if I have to die for that."

"If I die..." she whispered, and suddenly, a wave of arousal washed over her, and she threw her head back, her cum all over your fingers. You gently fucked her through her orgasm, and then licked your fingers.

Nat gripped your back, her fingers digging into your skin. You rolled over the bed and pulled her on top of you. She looked like a baby now, so innocent, so precious. She clinged to you, wanting more of your safety, of your love.

Yes, love. And it didn't matter if she was considered a child now.

"I-if I die," she continued, her voice so so small. Your fingers ran through her hair, through her red locks. "At least I had one good thing in my life. You. You're the only fucking good thing I ever had, Y/n. And I'll take you in my memories forever and ever."

"I love you, Natalia." you said with conviction. "I'll love you in my every reincarnation, in my every life."

That's when you heard a loud bang in the door. The tracker, the wire.

"Goodbye, princess." you held her tighter, as she buried her face on your neck.

"See you soon."

Everything went black. Two widows terminated. Two shots fired.

Dreykov would have to train two other girls to replace you, and it wouldn't be easy.

At least you were free now. And had to hope you'd be married with two kids and a picket fence for the next time.

[jacky93sims]

Functional Cigarettes Machine and Cigarette Mod Upgraded for The Sims 2

As requested I tried to solve some small problems in the PcSims Cigarette Mod:

1. Now you can put the cigarette boxes on counters and tables too and your sims won't put the cigarette box on the ground everytime after the use, but they will choose to put it on the nearest empty surface (probably the one you choose at first to put the box on). 2. I removed the sip coffee sound and add a custom exhaling sound (but if you want to remove it you can simply open the single cigarette and box/packs packages on simpe, go to the text lists, click on sound id table and replace the sound name with a "-"). 3. I added a steam/smoking effect. 4. I also made a second version where sims won't go sitting to smoke but they will remain standing (choose only one). 5. I merged together the three cigarette packs recolor from Slig. 6. When sims finish smoking, cigarette won't be transformed in a trash bag until the sim arrives to the nearest trash can to throw it away.

The new cigarette machine has it's own guid so you can choose to use it and also use Slig machines without any conflict. However the single cigarette and the packs/box have the same guid so you have to replace them (and they will work on the old machines too).

Machine is in the Electronics-Miscellaneous section, while Cigarette Box is in the Party section. I decided to reduce the prices too (20 for a box of 20 cigarettes and 5 for a single cigarette).

DOWNLOAD HERE

Let me know if everything works.

[remotewatch]

for this simp I have no sympathy 💳🏃‍♀️

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 3.5k wc

summary: Jack’s a great boss. He doesn’t care how often you work remote, the benefits are actually competitive, and he lets you run up his Amex as long as you’ll spit in his coffee. Wait, what?

cw: shameless smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), sugaring, inappropriate workplace dynamics, findom, submissive loser jack, ooc (he’s at the office), spit kink, semi public sex?, he calls the reader a bitch but doesn’t mean it, somehow a plot snuck in here, def needs a part 2 eventually

AN: this one goes out to @augustghosts !!! Happy happy birthday and thank you for matching my freak mwah

minors dni pls I don’t want y’all thinking this is realistic or healthy

It’s a technically perfect relationship, as much as you’re aware of the risk of it all going to shit at any moment. Somehow that thought always pops back up at the jewelry counter. Your eyes trace aloofly over the puddles of diamonds littering the cobalt velvet tray before you and finally land on a comparatively understated anklet.

“I’ll take this one, please.”

“Excellent choice, madam.”

You waste no time shoving the evidence of your purchases into an overstuffed trash can prior to slipping the anklet on and dashing to the coffee shop closest to your building. As you wait outside, you can’t help but wonder if you’re visible from Jack’s office. You absolutely are, and he’s been glued to his window like a creep trying to pick your hair out of the crowd since the moment you left, but there’s no way for you to know that.

The line moves faster than usual, and, soon enough, you’re balancing 4 orders of varying sizes with your work tote in one hand and carefully removing the lid of Jack’s cup with the other. Black with half a pump of sugar free vanilla and the massive glob of spit you deposit in there as you traverse the crosswalk.

It had started rather innocuously, and you probably wouldn’t have ever picked up on anything if he didn’t have such an awful poker face. There was a work dinner, some dick of an exec retiring, and out of the corner of your eye you’d spotted Jack placing his personal card in with his company one when the bill came around. That was a little weird. It was much weirder that he looked like you’d caught him pissing in the break room sink when he realized you’d noticed.

Once you had, it was hard not to spot the gunmetal edge of his black card peeking out from under the company one at every single outing, though you made a point to feign ignorance. You’d asked one of your coworkers about it after you had to skip one night to visit family, but she was just as clueless as you felt.

“I was sitting next to him the whole night. He only used one card,” That forced you to backpedal and pretend you must have been mistaken; no sense in drumming up gossip before getting to the bottom of whatever it was.

Still, work was work, and things had been so hectic that the guilty look on Jack’s face had nearly faded from your memory by the time you came storming off the elevator two weeks later, drenched from forgetting your umbrella, one heel broken, and late for the first time since you’d been hired. You’d been so focused on wringing out your sweater that you had no chance of hearing or seeing him round the corner until he was already crashing into you and spilling (thankfully) lukewarm coffee down the both of you. If that didn’t push you over the edge, his attempt at a joke to lighten the situation certainly did.

“God, Jack, is everything a fucking game to you?! Fuck off!!” came flying out before you could stop it. Your only saving grace was that your entire team was already in a meeting across the floor, but that didn’t stop you from retreating to the bathroom and leaving him no time to say anything.

You were so beyond screwed. You’d busted your ass to get this job and had completely blown it over spilled coffee of all things. By the time you’d dried yourself to a somewhat acceptable level and crept over to the closed door of his corner office, the stomach-dropping dread of plunging back into the job market was already settling in.

There’s a weird clatter when you knock, and Jack looks the slightest bit frazzled when he opens the door, a few curls of his usually annoyingly perfect hair sticking up on one side.

“Can I apologize?” He stifles the smirk that’s tugging at the corners of his mouth like he’s afraid you’ll scream at him again.

“You don’t need to apologize, but sure. Come in.” At any other time, you’d feel dangerously comfortable in his office. It’s not corporate at all: so packed with weathered sunshine-smelling afghans and little wooden beach trinkets that seem to multiply every time you leave that it feels more like an antique store than a place of business. Today, the sight of it all makes you nauseous as you try to do damage control.

Thankfully, he cuts you off before the stammering mess of a groveling attempt unravels completely.

“Really, it’s fine. Do you think I can afford to fire anyone right now?”

“I guess not?”

He can’t quite conceal a wince when he sees the puddle you’re leaving on the carpet despite your best efforts.

“Well, you can’t work all day dressed like that. Would you go across the street and let me get you something new? I’ll call and tell them you’re coming.”

“Jack, I’m not going to Loro Piana for a change of clothes. It’s one day, it’ll be fine-“

“Please? And then we can forget all about this and just focus.” Fuck. His mouth looks so good asking nicely. The implications are not lost on you, that you’re crossing a VERY stark line here, but the way he’s looking at you with those perfect fucking doe eyes has your brain buzzing too loudly to care as much as you probably should.

The staff are even more attentive than you’d expect, to an almost unnerving degree. You’ve barely set one foot in the door before your coat and bag are lifted off you and you’re whisked up to one of their VIC suites. There’s already a rack waiting for you, but the sales associate’s not so subtle mention of a shower in the suite seizes your attention. Even though it’s only ten minutes, the water pressure and whatever is in that body wash make you feel like you’ve fast forwarded through a week at the spa. When you step out and look around for your old outfit, you’re timidly informed that they’ve been taken to the dry cleaner as per the cardholder’s request.

“Oh, yes. Thank you, I must have forgotten,” you mutter in a deeply unconvincing attempt to give the impression you’ve been in a dressing room this nice before. As tempting as it is to thumb through all of your options, you can’t afford to waste any more time and throw on the first two pieces on the rack: an ecru knit trouser and short sleeved sweater set. One of the price tags flips over as you tug them from their hangers, and you have to take a deep breath to stave off the tunnel vision the number on it inspires.

Of course, they both fit perfectly and feel like an absolute dream. As soon as you begin to move towards the door, the same sales associate pipes up again.

“Mr. Schlossberg mentioned that you were also interested in some leather goods. Is that still the case?” You turn to see a massive array of belts atop a disgustingly ornate glass (or is that crystal?) table along the back wall with a dozen pairs each of coordinating loafers, oxfords, and pumps underneath. A small sliver of guilt turns over in your gut; you really shouldn’t, but fuck it, that line has already been crossed, and you can’t even pretend it’s a difficult decision.

“Yes, I was! Thank you so much for reminding me!”

She helps you settle on a pair of gleaming chestnut loafers with a narrow matching belt, and you choose not to dwell on how Jack knows your exact clothing and shoe size.

You hate how much of a spring it puts in your step as you hurry back across the street. The meeting is somehow still going on, so you quickly pop over to Jack’s office to thank him again and definitely not to show off how sweet your ass looks in these pants.

You’re so ecstatic from the whiplash of remaining employed after telling your boss to fuck off right to his face that you stupidly swing his door open without knocking first.

Jack slams his laptop shut, but the audio pause is delayed, and the there’s nowhere for him to hide as its speakers blare out clear as day:

“-my perfect good boy. Give me all your cum. Yeah, you’re my favorite ATM.”

The secondhand embarrassment is absolutely brutal, so you imagine his stomach is falling out of his ass right about now. He purses his lips together as he stands up painfully slow, fingertips pressed to the desk so hard they’ve lost color. God, he’s never this quiet. By the time he stalks over to your side of the desk and leans back against it, your heart is pounding so erratically you think you might drop dead right there on his pashmina rug. The new outfit suddenly feels heavier, like every wordless second he spends squinting at you adds a few ounces to the knit. Your suppressed sigh of relief forces its way out of your nose when the next words out of Jack’s mouth aren’t “go pack your desk”.

“Do you plan on telling anyone about that?” His expression is totally unreadable and it’s freaking you out; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him completely serious, even in the most dire of time crunches.

“No. Am I still getting fired?” This time, Jack lets a smile bloom across his face like he couldn’t stamp it down if he tried.

“I don’t think I could ever bring myself to do that.”

Once again, some would say stupidly, your relief emboldens you.

“Why do you use two cards when we all go out?”

He gives your outfit a slow once over that would be repulsive coming from anyone else before glancing at the idle laptop, then back at you with a sprinkle of condescension mixed with his normal charisma.

“I like buying you shit.”

The frankness of it all is embarrassingly hot.

“And it doesn’t feel the same using the company card?”

“Not at all.”

That sliver of guilt is back, but it feels more obligatory than genuine. It’s currently being steamrolled by carnal curiosity.

“Why do you like it?” Jack’s eyes are practically sparkling with anticipation as he glances down.

“Why didn’t you turn down the belt?”

He presses his luck when you hesitate to respond. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying nice things, you know.” Still, nothing, so he strolls over to the floor safe and hands you a bulging cash envelope from its contents.

“For your rent, or whatever. So you know I’m serious. You don’t have to do anything else, but I want to ask for one favor before you get back to work.”

Your throat dries up, and your expression must betray your assumption and feelings because he’s quickly correcting you with a small chuckle:

“No, not that,” as he’s twisting the lid off his thermos and handing it to you. That’s weird, but whatever. You’ll happily take drinking out of his mug over bruising your throat if it comes down to it. Jack gently pushes the rim down away from your mouth with two spread fingers when you go to take a sip.

“Would you spit in it? Please?” This time, you don’t give your doubts a chance to articulate themselves.

It hits the insulated inner wall with a shrill ping and drips slowly down into Jack’s coffee, and before you have a chance to fuck this up, you’re forcing the tumbler back into his hands and retreating to the doorway, envelope clutched in a death grip.

“You have a call at eleven. It’ll become my problem if you’re late again, so maybe figure something out.” you suggest on your way out. Just as the door clicks shut, you fail to stop yourself from turning back and get an eyeful of him swirling the mixture like he’s at a wine tasting and gulping it down in one shot.

Your new arrangement develops rather quickly after that. Now that he’s no longer trying to conceal his interests, Jack is practically falling at your feet whenever the two of you are alone. The rest of the team is already used to you showing up early and staying late, so what difference does it make in their eyes if you’re actually doing work or dragging him around his office by his tie and beating a raise out of him with his own shoes? Initially, you shy away from indulging as much as he’d like and keep your authorized user status just for groceries, rent, the boring shit. It’s not until the first time he sits you down in his chair with his laptop open and tells you not to stop shopping until you’re squeezing his tongue that you allow yourself to see the real appeal of having an unlimited credit line. He’s already got your info on autofill; god, what a thoughtful little freak, you think as you book recurring massage after manicure after private museum tour after clearing out your Bergdorf cart. The digits and commas are blurring before your eyes as you struggle to navigate the Cartier homepage, and soon you’re just clicking add to cart on anything that slightly catches your attention. You cursor twitches once, twice, in time with the unrelenting work of his fingers (he refuses to roll up his sleeves, says he loves you sticking to his cuff links), but you manage to click purchase all before focusing your full attention on your incoming orgasm.

Jack tugs his phone out to check his pending charges without letting your clit slip from between his lips, and the elated moan he lets vibrate through you when he sees the final total has you drenching him down to his shirt collar.

Since he’s always this desperate, it’s hard to play along with the little song and dance he does of pretending you need to rein it in. You have to bite your tongue to not laugh and just say “no problem!” every time he requests that you please stay within budget today after his first sip of spit coffee. Obviously, there’s never been one; the only parameter you give yourself is a minimum of two supremely gaudy purchases per week for him to “notice” so you can get the ball rolling. Like today. Your new heels are hideous and feel like they’re lined with steel wool, but they fulfill their duty of catching the attention that was already yours to begin with.

“Those aren’t the shoes you had on this morning.” You don’t even glance up from your monitor.

“Nope.”

“When did you find time to go to Saks again?”

This time, you give him a look like he’s 500 years old and couldn’t rotate a pdf to save his life.

“I was working remote from their cafe. The chairs are really nice.”

“Yeah, they’re real nice in my office, too.” It’s clearly not a suggestion.

As per usual, you elect to sit on Jack’s desk just to needle him. When he lifts your leg to get a better look at the new heels, his nose crinkles up in disgust.

“These things will fuck up your back.”

“They’re car to table only, you should know that.” Your other foot swings around to tuck against his sacrum and nudge him in between your legs.

He’s trying his best to act upset, but you can feel his dick throbbing through his slacks.

“How much did you spend today?” You make a big show of pretending to think for a moment.

“I’m not sure. More than you made?”

“You fucking bitch,” And that second leg is shooting up between you and kicking him back hard enough that he bumps into the filing cabinet.

“I ought to report you to HR for that.” only then does he notice the anklet, glinting wickedly under the soft amber lights. Jack pulls your foot closer and with frighteningly little effort nearly tugs you straight off his desk.

“Is this new, too? How much?” He’s got the same look on his face as when his manners are wearing thin on the phone, all carefully applied nonchalance ruined by the the ravenous impatience in his eyes.

“Ten,” and he straight up shudders. He presses the cool platinum against his cheek, and his eyes slip closed as he jerkily ruts against you. Through three layers of fabric, you can still feel every bend in his pulsing underside vein.

“You didn’t think to ask me first?”

“Why would I? It’s my money.” The choked up sob that spills out of him is abruptly morphed into an irritated groan by a knock at the door.

“Fuck, I can’t deal with this. Get rid of it.”

He’s plunked you into his chair and scuttled under the desk well before you can remind him that that’s not in your job description. Jack pulls your seat close enough to shove his nose right into your cameltoe just as the door swings open and one of your least amicable clients comes stomping in.

“Where the hell is he?! First it was ‘email me in a month’, now his direct line calls are getting dropped! My intern had to show me his fucking Instagram to prove that he was even in town!” And he keeps going, but you struggle to register any of it over Jack ever so politely licking you over your stockings like he’s taken you out for a lovely date first and not at all like he’s using you as a human shield to deflect this moron.

“I’m sorry. He’s not currently available.” Jack vacuums your clit right into his mouth at that, rolling and twisting his tongue over it like it’s a goddamn ring pop.

“That’s a load of horseshit. John’s never worked hard enough to be this fucking unreachable. Where is he?!” Normally, you’d be at least a little concerned about how close this guy looks to throttling you for your boss’s location, but the way Jack’s cheeks stick and unstick to your thighs as he rocks his head as best he can in the confined space is diverting most of your attention.

“I understand your frustration, sir,” your customer service voice wavers as he relentlessly sucks you through the fabric. “But there’s simply nothing I can do. Mr. Schlossberg is in meetings for the rest of the day and specifically asked not to be disturbed.” You press a warning foot against his dick, and he groans so loud you’re forced to squeeze your thighs around his head and cough to muffle it. Luckily, the client is too far up his own ass to notice.

“This is outrageous! He can’t just blow everyone off forever because his name is on the fucking building!”

“Your concerns are duly noted. Can I help you with anything else?” He’s already halfway out the door.

“Oh, go fuck yourself!” is yelled half at you, half in hope that Jack is in earshot. As soon as the door slams, you’re scooting backwards and pulling him after you by his shirt. Not that you’d have to, as he’s crawling to chase you across the carpet until you’re pressed right up against the floor to ceiling windows and white knuckling his armrests.

“Wolford doesn’t make these anymore!” you protest when he shreds your tights down the middle to lick you properly. You feel more than hear him laugh in response, and you swear you also detect a muffled “womp womp”. He always fingers you like shining up your seat is the whole point, like he’s only doing this to get to crudely lap and slurp the results up from under you just to spit them back onto your clit. You’re beginning to suspect he only took up bouldering to improve their endurance for you.

Jack finally relents when you twist both hands deep into his hair and drag him off of you. It’s gone curlier around the edges from his efforts, and paired with the overly dramatic lip smack and megawatt smile he hits you with, you can’t even pretend to be annoyed.

“You don’t seem that broken up about it.” He presses one more kiss to your clit before standing up and turning back to the file on his desk without missing a beat.

“Anyway, T&G wants this cleaned up by Thursday, so we should probably get back to it.” There’s no way he’s serious; he’s just trying to rile you up by pacing around, yapping and aimlessly shuffling papers with bubbles of saliva and pussy juice sliding down his face, but you hate that it works so well. Before you realize what you’re doing, you’ve wrapped your fingers around Jack’s tie and abruptly pulled him back down onto all fours, sending the unstapled proposal scattering across the floor.

“Nothing will happen to our portfolio if you just shut the fuck up for five minutes,” He’s all too eager to screw the rest of the day’s schedule when he rests his chin between your legs on the chair’s seat and grins cheekily up at you.

“Only five?”

[ellaa-writes]

Welcome Home pt. 2

agnst, Johnny is kinda a simp. Follow up to this

Johnny woke in the morning, groggy and half erected. Rolling over, reaching out for you but only coming out empty. Your side of the bed cold and untouched. Then he remembered, laying in bed for a few minutes longer. Trying to come up with ways to make it up to you.

He slowly crept along the hallway, walking into the living space. The blanket on the couch was neatly folded. He could smell what he assumed was cooked bacon and the sound of something sizzling. As he entered the kitchen he saw you leaning over the counter, looking down at something on your phone. He cleared his throat, ready to start groveling. But stopped as you turned around to look at him. Your eyes were red and sunken in, it looked like you didn't sleep at all. The pot of coffee was almost empty.

"Bonnie-" he started but was cut off.

"Breakfast will be done soon." you turned back around, not wanting to look at him anymore.

He stood their debating if he should hug you but decided to give you space. Pouring himself a cup and taking a seat at the table. He watched you as you grabbed a plate, the tacky orange one he hated and started to fill it up. Grabbing a fork out of the drawer the one with the bent prong and setting his plate down in front of him.

He looked down at the plate and tilted his head, the bacon was off. He wasn't even sure if it was bacon, and the scrambled eggs had obviously egg shells in them. It made him smile and laugh, hell he deserved worse. He looked up to see you watching him, he grabbed a fork full of his egg shell scrambled eggs and shoveled them into his mouth. His teeth crunchy of the shells, grabbing a piece of the mystery bacon and tossing it into his mouth.

"Thank ye bonnie, delicious." he was sure the bacon was potato skin. You couldn't help yourself, finally cracking a smile and walking over to him.

You grabbed the plate from him and tossed it in the garbage can.

"Oi, Aye was eatin' 'at" Johnny said with a mouth full of food.

"Shut up." you spat back at him, he swallowed quickly. Getting up from the table and wrapping his arms around you.

"Oh, ma bonnie lass, Ah'm a daftie."

"Your an asshole." you sobbed into his neck. He just held you closer. Blubbering nonsense, promising you he'd never do it again.

"I'll leave so quick Johnny, don't you ever!" he wasn't sure if you were still mad or not. But he didn't care, you could scream all you want at him. He'd take it all, you could even kick him in the balls if it would make you feel better.

"Aye know." was all he said, holding you in his arms as you both cried.

[ronaldothebestie]

I'm Sick | Rúben Dias

* ˚ ✦ Summary: Tik tok trends with Rúben and Singer!Reader!

Tw: Rúben is an idiot, fluff, Reader being simp, your tik tok account calls "CanelaDiasFan", Canela being the best cute daughter ever, dialogues in negrito are in Portuguese, not 100% revised, Canela means Cinnamon.🤎

English is not my first language!!!

Beautiful people are talking

* ˚ ✦

Version 1 (the one that was never published)

Inspiration

-

"Please Ruby, let's do this? I promise I won't publish it." You beg, sitting at the kitchen counter while Rúben prepares lunch, who was more concerned with finishing the famous Bacalhau com Natas.

"Nop. The desire to appear on the neighboring social media is not incredible today."

"It's funny that you always feel like showing off your whole body on Instagram, but when it comes to recording a cute video with your girlfriend it's the biggest drama, incredible."

"First, the photos are for... Professional purposes... Second, jealousy? And third, okay, let's do this."

"Yes, I see, professional purposes... Being a naughty and fishing com- What? A-Are you going to do it!? Rúben!” You jump off the counter radiantly hugging him from behind, smiling like a child, thanking him deeply.

"But wait, the decision was very quick... What do you want, Rúben?" You just looked suspiciously into his eyes.

"What will be my reward for doing this?" He asked funny while stirring the food.

"What do you mean, prize? Isn't it enough to make a cute video with your girlfriend, aka me?"

"Um, nop, here we are going to have a win-win situation, if I participate in your video, you will participate in mine."

"Very suspicious Ruby... What kind of video?"

"We play football."

"No."

"No? So no video for either one." He laughed evilly and you just wanted to kill this man, he probably already wanted to record this video and knew perfectly well what he was doing to make it happen.

There was "no advantage" for Rúben and you to record that football video, while in your case, it was the opposite, you practically needed that video for your existence! practically drooling at the thought of Rúben's arm muscle around your neck.

"No! Wait! Alright, I'll record the video." You quickly hide behind Rúben's back, with your head down, you hated playing football, especially with a boring and arrogant football player like him and-

Rúben just turned you around very easily, using a finger to lift your chin and stuck a spoon with the food in your mouth.

"Proof." You chewed with pleasure when you realized how wonderful the food was, your sad mood changed in the blink of an eye, you noticed his hopeful eyes and you couldn't resist.

"It's really good, Ruby."

"It is, isn't it? Now, my dear Bunny, let's not get upset about me humiliating you at football, will we?"

"Your assh-!"

Another spoonful of food was shoved into his mouth.

Hours later...

"Okay, let's get started- What the hell are you doing!?" You were scared when you saw, out of nowhere, Rúben doing push-ups in the middle of your suite.

"I need to emphasize the muscle well." Rúben winked at you, smiling and simply continued.

"I'm sure people know that you have... Protruding muscles..."

"I'm not sure."

"What do you mean? And the three hundred photos on your 'insta' showing all your muscles?"

"I'm not showing... It's Art."

"Art? Só se for a arte do cara-"

The video ended with Rúben's biceps almost crushing your face.

...

Version 2 (the one that was published)

Inspiration

-

"Canela, unlike dad, you're not going to blackmail me, right?" You bring the kitten closer to your neck, kissing the brown fur, which purrs in approval and snuggles against you.

You quickly turn on the tik tok camera starting a revolutionary video.

"I can't go out." Cough, cough, "I'm sick." A small paw invades your face, almost sticking it into your eye, but everything ends well.

5M❤️ and 24M views:

caption: The truth about Canela😭

Comments:

@EmmaVermilion (Rúben's version)

— No way she did this with Canela #saveCanela😭💀

@(reader)pistachioicecreAm

— Girl, this is literally the perfect scenario for Ruben to appear 😭😭😭

↳ CanelaDiasFan: Ik😭 but he's a bastard/naughty who only cares about FIFA😡 (I tried, sorry girls 😔)

@serrenna:

— Canela almost killing (reader)🤑🤑🤑

↳ CanelaDiasFan: WDYM 😭😭😭

@FernandoMendes>>>

— She is literally one of the greatest singers ever, but these videos... I can't 😭😭😭❤️

↳ CanelaDiasFan: Ik you like it😏😏🫦

@louboutininBunnyGirlpls:

— MANK VTNC KKLQPIEJSNJSAHUWIA A GATA SE REVOLTANDO SHHAAHAHAHHAHAMAKAKSKAAKK

more comments...

Bônus:

"Meow." When night came, the brown feline snuggled in your lap, purring with your affection behind the ears, while you waited for Rúben.

"Own Canela, aren't you the cutest kitten in the world?" You picked up the kitten and kissed her repeatedly, feeling the kitten snuggle even closer.

"I feel like I was the one who should have been there." Rúben, sat on the bed next to you with a pout.

"Jealous, big guy? She's our baby, I have to give her everything, right Canela?" The cat meows as affirmation, gaining even more affection, now on her belly.

"What a naughty cat."

"Looks like someone... As they say, like father, like daughter.❤️"

I have no idea why I do this, but I realy like it at all😄.

I saw the trend and I thought it really suited Ruben, but he's a bit of a low profile at times and a naughty dog at others so.... We do 50%...

Well, it's 2am and I'm ready to... 😴

From the next line of comments I will add real @ 🥵🥵🥵.

Thanks for reading, reblogs, feedback and likes are very welcome!!!

© All this shit belongs to @ronaldothebestie on Tumblr, so don't translate, repost, copy in no social media, do not commit plagiarism, It's crime and wtf?

[vashs-ass]

I saw this in my tags so I wanted to use it to talk common things I see people say when defending knives. I’m not trying to single this person out they just had it put very concisely. This is just arguing for the fun of it! ❤️🙏 I love my knives simps

1. Humans view plants as animals

I would say they do not. On no man’s land the information on dependent plants seems to be very limited. While they do take the shape of a human I truly believe the humans did not know they were sentient. Even if they did know they are doing out of desperation which I will cover later. It seems that on earth, at least in the current age, independent plants are treated with the same respect and dignity as anyone else. The plant on the earth ship seemed to be a valued member of their team. Of course we have no way of knowing the entire situation but this is our only glimpse into it.

It would be extremely hypocritical for Knives to use this as justification when he says out loud that he views humans as “domesticated animals” and compares killing them to stepping on an ant.

2. Humans are exploiting them for their own gain

Yes technically this is true, however it’s extremely important to note that the reason they have resorted to this (running them until they decay) is directly Knives’ vault. I think framing it as greed is completely incorrect. They are using them for survival. Vash himself points this out and knives seems to have nothing to say to counter this, he legitimately just goes “……”

3. “Just bad methods”

This isn’t really an argument or anything I just find that saying this (I see this said a lot by people) is severely downplaying the severity of his actions. He himself recognizes what he’s doing is genocide. It’s not just a difference in “methods”.

[konigsluvr]

Omg thanks so much for getting back on my request so fast! The NSFW bit was a nice bonus 😏 tsk got me simping more on this man

Yes 6 months ago way peak Avatar, there was an endless supply of fics to binge but the past 2 months it's dwindled down a lot huh

Can i request more König HC if that's okay, but about his domestic preferences. Like his morning routine, his fave food, how he likes his coffee, his fashion sense etc

Thanks, and no rush! Take care x

I'm so glad you guys liked my recent headcanons, I was nervous it wasn't gonna get any attention but the amount of reposts and likes warmed my heart smmmmm<33 and I miss avatar so much, I've been deep in the cod stuff that I haven't read anything about avatar in agessss. Anyways here is könig headcanons, domestic version (sorry I took so long xx). Reblogs are highly appreciate <33

★ navigation ★ masterlist ★

König Headcanons pt2

Includes: König being a cutie at home.

☆ his bed is probably in his top 3 favourite things in life. Like they would be 1: You, 2: you again, 3: his bed. Like there's nothing better than coming home from a long and stressful mission and finding you sleeping in his queensized bed. You make sure to wash the bed for when he comes home so he has the best nights sleep. You'd hear him let out a relieved sigh when he gets in bed and cuddles with you. Nothing better.

☆ I picture him as a morning person. It's just way more peaceful, calm, and bright. Plus, whenever he sleeps in, he feels a tad bit guilty due to "wasting" seeing a beautiful morning.

☆ the type of man that shuts his blinds in the evening, makes his home cosier and he feels a lot safer and private.

☆ he wears those compression shirts at the gym or when he's training at base... omg I'm just imagining how beefy he looks.

☆ black coffee, he probably likes the bitter taste but will probably switch to a more milky coffee once you convince him that its just way better. Probably won't take any sugars because he will be scared it will ruin his godly physique.

☆ for breakfast, he eats cereal because most of the time he can't be bothered cooking as soon as he wakes up. Sometimes he'll forget but you'll always be there to make sure he eats <33

☆ I'm sorry, I gotta include this. Apple juice>orange juice. You two have definetly had a heated debate on which one is better but he won, of course.

☆ könig probably won't leave the house much, if he does it's just for a small walk around his neighbourhood or in the park, and going grocery shopping.

☆ he would like to be comfy so wearing a hoodie or a jumper suits him and on a good day he'll wear his jeans, but mostly just joggers. (Grey Joggers *wink wink*)

☆ if you two are going out to a fancy dinner, he'll try to dress up for you but you tell him its fine as you don't want him to feel too causcious or vulnerable in public.

☆ fave food... I actually have no idea. He enjoys a good steak, especially if it's cooked by you :))

☆ he's a good cook, he can chef up a really good meal if he's in the mood. If you can cook better than him, he wouldn't even be mad. He would find it really attractive and would just watch you from the kitchen counter or stand right behind you looking over your shoulder, watching you cook. And if you burn something by mistake he'll either prevent it from happening before you even notice or he was too distracted by you and would laugh and tell you it's okay, and convince you he likes it a little crispy to make you feel better.

☆ his home probably didn't have much things lying around, such as decorations and random objects, but as soon as you moved in, you made it more homely with your random makeup there or your dropped clothing here. He's a tidy person but wouldn't be mad if you forget to put something away, he would most likely just leave it there in case you need it again later on or remind you kindly that it's there.

☆ movie nightssssss!! Imagine cuddling up with König on a Friday night when you two can't be bothered going out for a drink at the bar. You both choose a movie line up for the night, go out and buy some of your favourite snacks, get your most cosy blankets and share them together. Goals. Literal goals.

Sorry this pretty short. Have a lovely day and take care of yourself xxx

[bubblyhearts87-14]

How to Fall in Love in 5 Snacks

notes: so i super love theater and i came up with this idea while I was at one. My main account has other asks so I thought it would be fun to post here instead. Don't expect future fics to be this long, they normally aren't lol. Also I may or may not write a fic about Mikey and his person in this fic 🤷 who knows 🙈 This was written by Hearts (you can tell my the notes being green and the divider being green!)

Popcorn and one water

Leo saw her almost as soon as he entered the theater. She was at the counter, across the busy lobby, wearing a name tag. Leo suddenly wished he had supervision so he could out her name from all the way over here.

“I'm gonna go get a snack.” Leo informed Donnie who likely gave a snarky reply but Leo was far too invested in getting closer to her. He was surprised that he hadn't seen her around before, since she looked like she was in his grade.

 She had a sour expression on her face, looking dull and monotonous. Not fully a frown but definitely not a smile, her eyes darting away before they could meet anyone else's. It made Leo nervous that she was uncomfortable.

Either way, he was determined to swallow his anxiety and get a snack (or rather use getting a snack as a guise to learn her name.) 

Leo patiently waited in line, tapping his fingers against the fabric of his jeans. His heart beat erratically in his chest, sweat collecting in his hands. He tried to wipe it away just as it was his turn to get concessions. 

“Hi, what can I get you?” She said, her voice surprisingly friendly for such an….unpleasant expression. 

“Can I get a……” Leo faltered, realizing he hadn't thought of what to get yet. He glanced at the menu trying to figure out what to get before he frustrates you or the people in line. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Can I get popcorn and a bottle of water?” Leo finally said, hoping you wouldn't think his choice was dumb. Was it dumb? Should he have gotten a candy bar? Or maybe he should have gotten a soda instead? 

“Alright, coming right up.” She said cheerfully, turning around to grab a water bottle from the fridge. She leaned over the counter, standing on her tip-toes (Leo couldn't help but find that adorable) to hand the water to him. Leo shivered when your fingers brushed against his, his green skin gaining a pinkish tint. 

Leo finally glanced at her nametag, the sound of her name repeating over and over again in his head. It sounded so nice, so pretty, so lovely. He wanted to keep it locked up in his brain, place it on a shelf and make sure your name never gets forgotten and left to the dust. 

Finally he got his popcorn, yet again his heart fluttered when your hand touched his. Was it normal to have heart palpitations over minor touch? 

“Enjoy the show!” She said, giving Leo a small smile. He felt like the luckiest turtle in the world.

“You too, [Name]!” Leo said, taking a moment to process. Then he proceeded to die of cringes. She wasn't even watching the show since she was working! 

Leo quickly walked away before he could see your reaction to his absolute idiocy. 

How was he already so far gone?

2. Two hershey bars and one bag of gummies

“Leeeeoooooooo, can you please get me a snack?” Mikey whined, not even five seconds after Leo had returned with his own snacks. Not that he was complaining, since his brain was still on the counter where you handed him his popcorn and water.

Leo's hands still tingled, like all the atoms inside his body were doing a little dance right where your skin has brushed up against his. God, he felt ridiculous. (Donnie would most certainly label him a simp if he could hear Leo's thoughts.) 

“Alright fine, I'll get your snack.” Leo conceded, acting as if he wasn't ecstatic to see you again. Even with his last moment with you making Leo crumple up with cringe, he still likes you. 

[Name.] 

He wondered if you could tell how much you already make his heart pound and make his head feel like it's underwater. Like he's drowning quick and fast but Leo found he doesn't mind if this is his death. He liked the way you made him feel.

Leo put his own stuff down in his chair, using his ninja skills to avoid getting trapped in the crowd. Normally this sort of event wasn't for Leo, it's crowded and busy and Leo doesn't know this musical. But Mikey begged for them all to go so they could support his friend.  

He had never been happier to do something Mikey wants. 

Leo weaved his way through the hoard of people, making sure to avoid getting stuck in the monstrously long bathroom line. Finally, he made it out into the lobby eyes darting around until they spotted you.

She seemed to notice Leo too, as time slowed down. Her lips quirked into a smile, eyes crinkling like just made an inside joke with him. 

The blue clad turtle got into line, trying not to seem impatient even though he really really wanted to shove everyone out of line. That would be rude of him. 

He couldn't help wanting to see her! But he could control his…aggressive urges. (Maybe Raph was rubbing off on Leo a little bit.) 

After what felt like an eternity but was only a few seconds, it was finally Leo's turn. He approached the counter trying to suppress the dorky grin on his face.

"Hello again." She said, her eyes watching his face carefully. His skin itched like her sight was physically touching him.

"Hi, again. My brother wanted some snacks so I'm back." Leo explained, although almost immediately regretting it. Was it too much information? Was he rambling? Did she think he is a weirdo?

"If my sister was here she would make me get her snacks too." She replied, gifting Leo the chance to hear her delightful laugh. It was soft and quiet, repeating itself in his brain like a record that never stops turning.

He wanted to keep talking to you, maybe bond over having siblings, but there were people behind hin who were growing impatient. Leo only hopes to see you after the show.

"Can I have two hershey bars and some gummies?" Leo asked, feeling light and airy. Although disappointed he has to go as soon as you give him the food. She handed it to him, her gentle fingers wrapped around the packages as they brushed against his calloused skin.

"Enjoy the snacks." She said, with a small smile. Leo returned the smile, not saying anything yet in fear of saying something cringe again. He can't control the things he says around you.

As he turned around he could have sworn he heard you mutter, "See you soon, cutie."

Leo really hoped his brothers wanted more snacks soon.

3. One pack of cookies and a Sprite

The musical was a lot better than Leo had anticipated. The story was interesting and the songs weren't obnoxious. Plus Leo could see how much Mikey was enjoying seeing his friend up stage.

"Ughh, I need some soda. Dude go get me some and a snack too." Raph said, shoving some money in Leo's hands just as the lights started coming back on. It was intermission, or rather the little break in between acts so the actors can have a break. At least that's how Mikey explained it to Leo.

Leo was grateful for the intermission since it meant he had another chance to see [Name]. It seemed things were going very well with her! Even if he's only know her for about an hour. And most of that hour has been watching high schoolers kill other high schoolers. Very fascinating stuff.

"You're lucky I'm a good big brother." Leo replied in a snippy tone as though to mask his excitement Which doesn't seem to work because Donnie glances away from Mikey and gives Leo a suspicious look.

"Uh huh and you aren't excited to see Miss.....[Last Name]?" Donnie added, glancing at his phone. Leo blushed, more embarrassed by the teasing than the fact Donnie probably just got all of [Name]'s personal information.

"W-whatever!" Leo squeaked, face burning even more as his brothers laughed at him. How would Donnie even know Leo already had a major minor crush on [Name]? How obvious was he about it?

Leo doesn't have much time to think about it because he quickly had to weave himself through the lines forming to the bathrooms and concession stands. Yet again he was feeling grateful for Splinter teaching him the skills he needed to not get trapped between the parents of the actors and the other kids forced to come. A...unique crowd.

How many times was he going to be stuck in this line, waiting to see the face that had been plaguing his thoughts for the first half of the show? It was frustrating certainly but he had to remain patient and hope [Name] won't be sick of seeing him.

"Hi, what can I...oh it's you again!" She said, her smile brightening instead of falling thankfully. Leo laughed, although it sounded slightly awkward.

"Yeah, my brothers always seem to want me to get them something." Leo rolled his eyes, pretending as though he wasn't insanely excited to come back to the concession stand and see her.

She snorted and muttered a, "Real." as she gave Leo a wry smile. "And what do your brothers want this time?"

"A pack of cookies and a Sprite, please."

[Name] grabbed the stuff, her skirt flowing around her. She was dressed so elegantly, making Leo feel slightly under dressed. But she was utterly stunning, so much so it made Leo's tongue feel like an iron weight on top.

"Here you go, Blue." She said with a grin, making Leo startle slightly. Oh, oh. He hasn't even told her his name yet! How stupid can he be?

"My name's Leo." He explained, a slight influx in his pitch making him blush yet again. (Why must every bone in his body be cursed with awkwardness?!)

"Well, it's nice to meet you. I hope to see you soon, Leo." She said, waving Leo off. He smiled a little dopey as he walked away, almost under a trance.

He was unable to be saved from the thing called love.

4. Two granola bars

"Donnie, you are such a weirdo! Granola bars?" Mikey complained, leaning back in his chair as he watched Donnie hand Leo his money.

"Yes! I'm not wanting sugary treats right now. Granola bars are a perfectly acceptable snack." Donnie huffed, handing his blue masked brother a five dollar bill.

"Yeah, yeah. Just hand me the money so I can buy it before intermission hands." Leo complained, exaggerating his annoyance so he doesn't seem terribly down bad for [Name]. He's known her for barely any time at all and he's already dying to see her again, taking any chance really.

"Shut up, Nardo. You aren't fooling anyone. Now hurry up and get my food." Donnie replied, pulling out his phone to watch the newest episode of whatever anime he is currently obsessed with. Leo scoffed but walked away, heart flurrying with excitment.

Would [Name] think he is pathetic for his thoughts? Or would she call him a romantic? Oh god, if only he knew whether she liked him even a fraction of the same way.

"Bye-bye birdie~" Mikey sang, giggling after. Leo rolled his eyes, finding the musical reference not very funny at all. His brothers were such dorks.

Leo walked into line yet again, although grateful to see it isn't as long as before. She seemed to be working fast, waltzing from behind the counter to give everyone the things they bought.

"Here you go, sir! I hope you're enjoying the show!" She said to the man in front of Leo, finally making it his turn. How Leo so nervous? Gah, he's scared the money will be damp from how much he is nervous sweating!

"Wow, I feel like I haven't seen you in centuries." She said with a dry smile, Leo awkwardly laughing. Damn, she's so cool! And he's so....not!

"Hehe yeah. My other brother decided to get two granola bars." Leo explained, her eyes lighting up with amusement. His stomach clenched at that look. She was so effortlessly beautiful.

"Ooh, interesting choice." She hummed grabbing said items. Leo nodded, still feeling his nerves like a tightly pressed spring waiting to be unleashed.

They exchanged the money and granola bars, luckily with her seeming to notice the copious amounts of sweat on Leo's palms. Why must he be so embarrassing?

"Better get going." She said, jutting her chin towards the door, "Show is about to start."

Leo sighed, his heart fracturing dramatically at what seemed like rejection. Maybe she hasn't been flirting with him and Leo is too delusional to read the signs. Of course she doesn't like him! He's a cringy, dorky mutant who can barely speak without saying something so awkward.

"Yeah, that's true." Leo replied, wishing he could suck the disheartened tone out of his words. His very existence is embarrassing! She frowned a little, like she was surprised to see Leo disappointed.

Either way, Leo turned away and headed back to the audience with a heavy heart. He shouldn't be surprised she doesn't like him the way he liked her.

Who would like a freak like him?

5. ?????

Leo was....impressed by how much he enjoyed the show. He had never been one for musicals or any of that stuff but he can appreciate it. Especially since Mikey was head over heels for the lead in the show. (Although Mikey keeps saying they are "just friends")

He grabbed his trash and threw it out, waiting for his brothers to finish talking to the cast in the lobby so they can head home. He was exhausted.

Leo couldn't help but feel heartbroken over [Name] even if they did nothing more than be friendly while working. He sighed and leaned against the wall, watching Donnie bond with another audience member who liked anime. All of his brothers had a chance with someone except for him! Maybe it was less to do with him being a mutant and more of the fact he was so awkward and annoying and stupid and emb-

"Hey, Leo."

He stiffened at the sound of her voice, his heart yet again being sent into overdrive. He tried to stay calm as he turned around to see [Name]'s curious but tired expression. She was pretty enough to frustrate him.

She gave him a smile that put Leo slightly to ease, even if he was wary. And for little reason since she did nothing but her job! Leo was a pathetic lovesick fool.

"You forgot your last snack." She said, a slight glint in her eyes. Leo's curiosity was intrigued. She held out her arms and showed Leo what she was holding....a box of dates.

"Umm, what?" Leo asked confused, trying to figure out whatever the hell she meant by that. Dates? What teenager in their right mind eats those? And does their school even sell them?

She flustered (how cute Leo thought it was) and looked away, still holding the box of dates in her hands. Leo wasn't sure what was going on.

"It was a stupid pun. Like a date for a date? And multiple because I want to go on multiple dates with you?" She explained, an embarrassed laugh coming from her, "Sorry, I must have misunderstood some signals. I thought you were cute and I wanted to ask you out but I chickened out earlier."

Leo could have sworn his face was going to explode from how much blood rushed to it quickly. She thought he was cute? And she was dorky enough to ask him out using a pun? Leo must have died and gone to heaven because someone this perfect can't exist and like him.

"You don't need to say anything. Sorry fir bothering you, Leo." She shyly stammered, attempting to walk away but Leo grabbed her wrist before he could second guess himself.

"I'd love to go on a date with you. And I would make a pun but nothing can top yours." Leo replied, shoving the words out of his throat before he can be too shy. She brightened immediately, her smile widening.

"Really?" She asked, turning to face him. Leo nodded and smiled, finding her happiness contagious.

She leaned in and so did Leo, the rest of the world fading to black. He was about to get his first kiss! With an awesome girl too! Maybe they should wait for their first date? Or do people normally kiss this soon? Maybe Leo should have watched more romance movies when he had the chance.

"Bleh, can you stop giving each other the lovey dovey eyes?" Donnie complained, all three of Leo's brothers appearing at the most inopportune time. Leo pulled away the same time she did, both looking like guilty kids.

"Time to go?" Leo asked, cringing at the way his voice squeaked. All of his brothers snorted and [Name] gave Leo a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, lets go!" Mikey said, still looking far too hyper for it to be 10 pm. Raph rested his arm on Mikey's head, almost like it was his way to wrangle the younger boy.

Before they left, Leo and [Name] swapped phone numbers so they can plan a date and talk. Leo waved goodbye to her, smile spreading across his lips like invisible hands were forcing the joy on his face.

"You're such a dork, Nardo." Raph snorted, bit Leo was far too happy to even care about rebutting him. He may be a dork but he did get the girl.

[boneblushed]

Mine (Taylor’s Version)

short n sweet + unedited xo Ri

“You’re lucky we weren’t together when Red Taylor’s Version came out,” you muse, your pretty eyes alight with mischief.

“Because you’d have asked me to fake break-up with you?” Rafe asks, though he knows the answer to his question already. He snakes his arm around your waist and hands you the purple concoction he’s created — expensive Prosecco with just enough soda water to fizz, an amaranth liqueur making it taste like candied grapes. You take a generous pull, feeling his hand slide up and cup the side of your jaw.

When he turns your head to his, it’s mostly for selfish reasons. He ducks down and gives you a slow kiss, his wet tongue pressing over yours steadily. “You’re right,” he breathes out, breaking away for just a moment. “Although, I was already prettily heavily in love with you by then.”

“It was two years ago,” you huff, as if that explains it.

Rafe raises his eyebrows. “And?”

You balk. “C’mon. You’re fucking with me, right?”

“You think it was a coincidence that I posted All Too Well ten minute version on my Instagram story the day it came out?” Rafe asks then, somewhere between amused and exasperated.

“I thought you liked Taylor Swift,” you reply, a little indignant.

“Oh yeah, love her,” Rafe nods, faux-solemn. “Especially Shake It Off. Love Story, too. Great songs, really…”

You roll your eyes and make to break away from his embrace, “If this is your way of telling me you aren’t going to listen to Speak Now Taylor’s version with me —”

“The opposite, actually,” Rafe interrupts, only tightening his hold in response. He ducks his head again and sponges a kiss to your neck, another to your jaw, a few more to your cheeks and nose, just enough to have you giggling and gasping for breath. “You know how whipped I have to be to cancel my Friday plans to listen to music I don’t like with you?”

“You like Taylor Swift,” you command, your soft voice still a little breathy.

“I like you,” Rafe corrects, angling away a little. “Love you, actually. Would do anything for you. Even,” he gestures around his living room meaningfully, decked out in Speak Now memorabilia and speakers galore, “have a 2-person Speak Now party with you, apparently.”

You grin up at him, fond and amused. “Simp.”

“Tell anyone,” he ducks his head to your earlobe, his rough voice raising goosebumps over the skin of your neck, “and you’re dead.”

“Oooh, I’m so scared,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek, the stubble rough on your lips.

“You should be,” Rafe replies, faux-serious.

“What’re you going to do, Cameron? Put me on your Instagram story with Mine playing in the background?”

Rafe doesn’t sound as grim as he probably wants to when he replies, “You know I did that as soon as we listened to it.”

“Simp.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rafe replies, nudging your drink with his own purposefully. “We going to keep going, or what?”

You fix him with a serious look. “You know once we’re done we’re just going to go back and reply, right?”

“I grew up with two younger sisters, baby,” Rafe replies, his handsome face full of mirth. “I know exactly how this goes.”

“Not to mention, you’re a swiftie.”

Rafe eyes widen, and he looks around mock surreptitiously. “Christ, sweetheart,” he hisses, feigning indignation. “Keep your voice down. I’ve got a fucking reputation to uphold, yeah?”

“Oh yeah?” You waggle your eyebrows, placing both of your drinks onto the counter to free your hands. As you pull him against you, your arms around his neck, his automatically encircling your waist, and you add, “I remember how it felt sitting by the water…”

“…and everytime I look at you, it’s like the first time,” Rafe murmurs back, any amusement fading away as his blue eyes deepen, his strong figure pressing you close.

“I fell in love with a careless man’s careful daughter…”

“She is the best thing, that’s ever been mine,” Rafe finishes, and then he pauses, his gaze ablaze with pulse-jolting conviction. “Although…”

“Although,” you repeat, voice weak.

“Enchanted’s a bit more our song, don’t you reckon?”

You crinkle your nose up at him, his words making your heart feel too large for your ribcage. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” he nods, ducks his head again. “Freshman year: please don’t be in love with someone else; sophomore year: please don’t have somebody waiting on you; junior year —”

Your eyes widen. “That long?”

“Longer,” Rafe admits. Another pause. “I was enchanted to meet you, you know.”

You can’t help it. A peal of laughter escapes your lips, the sweetest sound Rafe has heard in a while. It’s just — this guy, six-foot-two with a football scholarship and shotgunning record, is quoting Taylor Swift lyrics to you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“If your team could see you now,” you tease, still swaying against him.

“They’d say,” he leans down, kisses you hard, “that I’m,” again, “the luckiest motherfucker on Figure Eight.”

[skzgene]

I.N x Reader Smut. MINORS DNI!!!!

A long day of rehearsing means he needs to let out all of his pent up tension.

Includes scenes of the following - ‘praise kink, light sub x dom, self masturbation, light choking, unprotected sex’

The clock ticks away as you stare at your phone, waiting to hear any sign of that He’s on his way home to you.

You knew he worked late and was constantly on a tight schedule so you were really happy when you knew he would be back to do the simple things like eat dinner with you.

You had prepared a light meal, just some ramen and meat, just how he likes it. Setting up the table with a candle and some flowers to brighten up the room.

‘Gosh, im such a simp’ you thought to yourself.

9pm rolls around pretty quickly and your sat watching tv when you hear a knock on the door, sitting up and looking through the peephole you see his cute little face, he looks drained from rehearsals but you know he would make the most of the time with you.

You open the door and let him inside, but before you could say a word he throws his bag to the floor and his lips lock onto yours.

Its passionate, almost needy, completely sexual and you feel yourself getting hot in places you know he would want to explore.

He places 2 hands on your shoulders slamming the door behind him and pinning you against it, lips still locked on to yours.

Breathlessly you manage to pull away for a slight second.

‘Well, hello to you too’ you mutter, but are cut off by him slamming his lips onto yours once again.

You feel his body pinning yours against the door, your hairs stand on end in pure lust.

‘Hard day?’ You manage to break in between the passionate kisses he is repeatedly fulfilling you with.

‘Yes, but all i need to make it better is you’ he mutters back all the while completely focused on you.

He traces his hand down the sides of your body before using his knee to widen the gap between your legs, pushing his thigh against your now sopping underwear.

The feeling of his thigh pushed up against you automatically makes you grind against it, his grey sweatpants slowly turning a darker shade from the wet trails you are leaving all over them.

You throw your head back as he pushes his thigh further upwards towards you, making the pressure almost unbareable, his lips still locked on to yours. Hes almost needy, theres so much angst in his kisses, you know all he wants right now is to get off and who would you be to refuse him that.

He grabs your hips between his big hands and forces you down further into his thigh, rocking them back and forth to grind you into his leg.

You moan under breathless gasps as he inches his lips closer to your ear.

‘Dont you dare cum’ he whispers to you.

The words have nothing but the opposite intended effect when you feel yourself clench at the sound of his breathy voice in your ear, his hot breath on your neck and his hands still grinding you against his leg.

By now his sweatpants are completely covered in your slick juices.

You pick up the pace against his knee, feeling his now rock hard erection rubbing against your leg, it gets you off even more.

You cant help but lose it when he starts to nibble against your neck.

‘I-innie’ you mutter. ‘Im gonna’..

Your words are cut off by the lack of sensation before you realise he has completely removed his body from pinning you against the wall and is now standing just in front of you.

‘You really think i was going to just let you ride my thigh until you finish?’ He smirks. Walking over to the dining table, which is laid with a single candle and a vase of his favourite flowers.

‘Come here and ride me properly’

He takes the flowers and places them on the kitchen counter, before blowing out the candle and perching himself on the edge.

The look on his face is one of need, lust, pure sexual angst. Your eyes hover down to where his trousers leave nothing to the imagination, and just off to the side, still a large patch of wet juice from your own body.

Your actually slightly embarrassed at how hot he can make you with nothing but his thigh!

You begin walking towards him, sliding your knitted jumper off over your head, exposing your chest to him. Which gives him nothing but ideas.

‘Wait.’ He stops you in your tracks.

‘Show me how you want me to touch you’

You pause, silently thinking about what on earth he just asked you to do.. it really must of been a hard day at the office.

But with little to no hesitation you walk over, sliding your panties off and throwing them to the side, before sitting on the dining table.

he pulls out a dining chair and sits himself on it, right in between your legs.

You prop your feet up on each side of the chair looking him up and down before running your fingers over your wet slit.

His face is head height with your most intimate parts and boy is he loving the view.

You slide a finger inside of yourself and start to move it inside and out of you.

‘How does it feel?’ He asks. Sliding his waistband down and over his now throbbing cock, he begins to wrap his hand around himself, pumping himself slowly along with your own rhythm.

‘You would feel better’ you tease.

In a swift motion he stands from his chair, pushing you down onto the table before forcing himself inside of you, fast & hard.

‘FUCK’ you scream out breathlessly. ‘Oh my god innie’

‘Well, lets not waste time’ he looks down at you.

He runs his hands up your thighs, still inside you, but no thrusting or any motion, just still.

Letting you conform to his size and length, his hands get to your waist and he slides you down slightly so your ass is slightly off the table.

He slides himself out of you so just the tip of him is inside, looking down at him inside of you really gets him going, he lets out a slight moan before slowly gliding himself back in with ease.

‘So, do i feel better?’ He asks, almost shyly.

‘So much better’ you reply ‘let out all your tension on me cutie’

Hearing the words cutie always gets him going, theres just something about the way he fucks you like an absolute animal in private. but smiles still so sweet when your around anyone else.

His eyes close slightly as he picks up the pace, holding you by your thighs, your calves over his shoulders as he grinds himself into you over and over again.

From the combination of what happened earlier and how close you were, topped with the feeling of his head hitting your sweet spot you could just climax right now, but you try to hold it in to let him have his time.

He pounds into you over and over letting out slight moans every now and then, his hands frantically pinching at your hip bones, breasts, thighs.. anywhere he can get to.

His pace slows slightly and you feel him pull out of you, replacing his thrusts with his fingers.

He inserts two, curling them upwards inside of you and circling motions along your Gspot. Within seconds, you feel your body convulse and you reach your high.

He holds your hand with his free hand as you coat his fingers with your juices.

Sliding them out and placing them into his own mouth.

‘Fuck, i could cum at the taste’ he groans.

You sit up, propping yourself on your elbows and look at him standing in front of you, hes still standing rock solid completely naked from the waist down.

‘Why did you stop?’ You ask almost moody.

He turns and walks towards the bedroom.

‘Who said i stopped’ he chuckles.

Motioning with his hand for you to follow him, of course, you do as he demands.

You reach the bedroom and he positions himself behind you, pushing you down onto the bed face down against the sheets.

He hovers over the top of you as you raise your hips slightly, pressing your ass firmly against his cock, wiggling slightly.

He places a hand on the small of your back before entering you once more from behind.

He thrusts into you over and over, the sound of your ass smacking against his pelvis travels around the room.

‘Fuck’ he moans. ‘Your such a good girl letting me take all of this frustration out on you’

His words make you clench around him

And he moans harder.

‘Yes baby, tighten yourself around me’ he sighs

His words do nothing but get you even closer to your now second climax before you release your juices all over him once more.

‘Cum for me innie’ you moan his name under a flutter of breathless moans.

He pulls out, turning you around onto your back before placing himself in between your thighs, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in closer to you. Using no hands his dick seamlessly glides back into you, he throws his head back and lets out the sexiest noise you think you may of ever heard.

You run your hands over his chest and down his torso, letting your fingers glide over every perfectly carved muscle.

Your juices cover the lower part of his torso and just above his pelvis.

You look up at him, his sweat clinging to his forehead, making his hair stick to the sides of his face, his dimples poke through the sheer animalistic look in his eyes. This is the jeongin that you love the most, just you, him & the sexual chemistry.

He grinds into you over and over almost shuddering with every stroke, he gets closer and closer to his climax, and so do you.

He places a hand around your throat as he fucks every last breath out of you, keeping eye contact the entire time, when hes like this hes just so intimidating and he makes you feel so submissive. You would do anything, absolutely anything for him if it meant you got to experience this every day.

He leans in closer so his torso is against yours, his weight heavy against your chest.

‘Im close’. He whispers to you, ‘do you want me to fill you up’ he smirks.

You say nothing but nod as your eyes roll back into your head.

your noses slightly touch as he plants a longing kiss on your lips, taking one in between two teeth and biting down on it gently, but firmly. The smell of sex fills the room, along with his musky smell of perfume and sweat from his rehearsals today. He thrust a few more times before he grips your sides with his hands, his nails digging in to your skin before he releases his thick creamy load inside of you.

‘Oh my g-god’ his breath falters.

You use a finger to wipe the sweat from his forehead, moving a strand of hair from off his face.

‘Dinners gone cold’ you huff playfully.

‘Shut up’ he laughs, cuddling into your stomach.

‘This was definitely better than your cooking anyway’ he teases.

‘HEY! My cooking isnt that bad!’ You slap him on the shoulder jokingly.

But in reality.. not even the best chef, could feed all of your senses as much as he does.

[tiredly101]

Devilishly handsome singer part 6

Pairing: Mafia leader!Waly Darling x Mafia leader singer!Male reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 7,

Illustrated Mafia Au, wrote a little bit in Spanish but do use translation if you don't understand and picture done by @clownsuu

Wally smiled softly while twirling in his hands a apple whiskey, Howdy was cleaning the counter and looking down, minding his business. Both man were thinking, albeit different persons, on a guy; Wally was thinking of M/n’s enchanting eyes while Howdy was thinking on the kind yet shy smile that Gepeto gifted him. Our boys be simping 

“So, Gepeto and you?,” asked Wally smirking before taking a sip at his apple whiskey. Wally almost laughed at how it seemed that Howdy short circuited at his simple question, Howdy only shared his head in a no while one of his hands covered his blue dusted cheeks. Wally’s attention span on Howdy lasted a couple of minutes but soon his smiled grew when he heard his phone ring, it was exactly nine o’clock and that meant M/n’s gang, Hidden Pictures, was ready to start their attack on San Stars. 

“Hola hermoso, are you ready to conquer a gang?,” asked M/n’s insanely sweet voice making Wally blush softly. M/n smiled on the other side of the hand listening the soft crack Wally had on his voice when he answered with a simple yes.

“Mhmm, que lindura… We are going to meet at, como se llama esa calle pelotudo?, Boulevard Broken across the street of Dreams… si la conoces?,” said M/n and Wally blushed at his use of Spanish.

“Yes, I know where that is… We’ll be there in a few,” said Wally hearing how M/n chuckled before saying a “See you here preciosura” to hang up. Wally sighted dreamily and looked at Howdy who started telling everyone to grab their favorites weapons since they are going out.

Everyone grabbed their weapons; Wally took his mere presence, Howdy took his ice pick, Barnaby took his biggest guns, Julie took her tranquilizer sniper gun, Sally took a rocket launcher against everyone’s demise, Eddie took a simple revolver to be able to protect Frank because Poppy was simply going as medical stand by and Frank was going to help her through any panic attacks.

When they arrived at the meetup Wally smiled at seeing M/n with a long black trench coat were in the back had a picture with roses crossed over with red in the back and on the sleeves, he had some beautiful red high heels just go with it and a beautiful apple red silk shirt that was accompanied with a white corset.

“God, he is fucking beautiful…”

Part 6 is out dearies! Part 7 is on the making shall but let me know if you want to joint the tag list!

Tag list:

@darling-w @mythjustiice @lotusflowerexe @whynot5243 @vampyrefay @frindtheshapeshifter405 @unluckyredflames @elegantkidfansoul @fluffyart5000 @totofranken @sjalyne @thezhephir @mythjustiice @waywardstardustcollector @thezhephir @rizzardbutonlyforai @beu-is-here0 @therealdonnied @maijvme @yuri-dono-blog @curiosityscrewedthatcat

[dumplingsfordays]

modern au - roommate hcs !

ft. Kazuha, Scara, Xiao, Zhongli, Diluc, Albedo

I'm backk~

I haven't wrote in a little bit so I'm sorry 😭

Anyways this is a random idea I had, idk how well my thoughts are gonna translate into words but we'll see ig

Also idk if you need a warning for this but Diluc's has a mention of man titties so... do what you want with that ig

Reader's gender not specified, and this is not proofread!! Apologies for any mistakes, feel free to message me and I'll fix them :)

Image credit!

But as always, thank you for reading <3

++++

kazuha

- omg this man 😭😭 he is (imo) the best roommate you could ever have.

- he'd probably be super nice when you two first meet and stay that way!!

- he wakes up at a fairly good time too, and if he knows that you're sleeping, he'll try to be as quiet as possible.

- he does his share (and often a little more, if he has time) of the chores consistently.

- kazuha even follows a schedule on when to do certain stuff - he writes it down in a calendar in the kitchen

- he does like to cook when he has some free time, and they don't always turn out amazing but the smell will have your mouth watering.

- his room is super neat!! It's very aesthetic and a little minimalistic, but not overwhelmingly so.

- and it's always clean!!!!!

- he mostly hangs around either in his room or the living room on a couch. Sometimes he'll come into your room, but he always knocks!

- he respects your privacy too 😍 this man is a treasure, treat him well

- he doesn't mind hanging out with you!! If you're into makeup, he actually likes to go makeup shopping with you and just chill while you pick out some stuff :)

- everyone thinks you're partners when you guys hang out, but kazuha doesn't seem to mind 🤭

scara (sorry it's a bit short, never rlly written anything abt him before 😭😭)

- he's a little turd but you still like him, and he gets confused because why haven't you moved out yet????

- he probably spends like 80% of his time away from the house (apartment? wherever you guys live basically), but he still manages to do his chores on time

- HIS EYELINER SKILLS. IK THIS IS A LITTLE IRRELEVANT BUT THEYRE SO GOOD OMFG

- anyways, he really likes watching movies super late at night, so when you join him 20 minutes in with popcorn, it's sort of a bonding time for you two

- he doesn't cook, so he orders takeout a lot... and what really surprised you is that after a week or so of living together, he started to order for both of you because "you were whiny that I didn't get you anything"

- (he actually does it bc he's trying to say thanks for putting up with him :))

- he goes to bed super late and wakes up super late. You have to deal with this by not making ANY noise when you do stuff in the morning or he will be very grumpy for like 2 days (you learned this the hard way 😭)

- on days when he's friendlier, he'll bring you stuff like plushies when he gets back. He'll say that Yae or Yoimiya asked him to give these to you, but you doubt that those two gave you twelve stuffed animals in the span of a month.

xiao (another short one 😭 just like his height)

- I mean... He's okay?? He just sits in his room a lot and I headcanon that he's kinda sorta a gamer so

- he doesn't mind doing chores for you if you can't, but he'll do them a little late because he's like that

- this man SIMPS for Chinese food, like I'm not joking. He doesn't know how to make it, but before moving in w you he searched up Chinese restaurants and that's one of the reasons he moved in lmao

- you guys don't really see much of each other a lot... but you always, always go on grocery trips together. Why? Because he seems to consistently forget the shopping list that you wrote down for him at home, on the kitchen counter, and if you go shopping for him, he complains that you didnt get the things he asked for (but he doesn't write you lists 👀)

- he does have his sweet moments too. If you play videogames, he'll play with you if it's multiplayer. If it's not - no worries, you'll both play it, sitting side-by-side.

- if you're not into videogames though, he does like learning stuff, especially from you. He thinks that you're a good teacher, and even if it's you teaching him how to make coffee (because he doesn't know and wants to learn), he'll keep persevering through it just for you.

- oh boy. Room time.

- his room isn't that bad, if you can look past the giant pile of Monster cans in a trashcan below his desk. It's often dark, with the blinds down, and if you're walking down the hallway, there's a 90% chance that you'll see green led lights shining through the gap beneath his door.

- speaking of his door, it's covered in those signs that say stuff like 'warning! no stupid people beyond this point' or 'dont touch me until I've had my morning Monster'. If you couldn't tell yet, he's obsessed with Monster.

- he streams on twitch, and he's pretty popular, so you'll hear screams of disappointment coming from his room quite often.

- but one sight that you'll never forget is when you went to bring him apple slices (did I mention that he likes apples??), you opened the door to him standing in front of his monitor in a maid dress 😭. According to him, this was a dare that his viewers had him do, and that you better not mention this to anyone!!

- he was so red when he was explaining it though 🤭🤭 you, being the kind soul that you are, swore on your heart to keep it a secret :)

zhongli

- omfg you KNOW this man likes having meals with you. That's such a random thought but hear me out.

- when you eat, he eats with you at the table. Even if you made something only for yourself, he'll whip something up for him and eat with you.

- ANYways he likes to save money so much that his room only consists of a mattress on the floor, a coffee table for a desk, a beanbag in the corner, and a bookshelf that is practically overflowing with books. You take pity on him, of course, and buy him another bookshelf, which he now treasures :)

- probably has a lot of plants around the house/apartment, and he takes care of them as if they were his children. There isn't a day when there isn't a bouquet of flowers sitting on the dinner table.

- if you're allergic to pollen, though, he'll make sure to buy plants, not flowers, like China Dolls or aloe vera or cactuses, whichever you like best 🤭

- he LOVES reading!! Whenever you come downstairs, you'll see him reading, and if you're interested, he'll recommend it or books like it. He does wear reading glasses and he looks really hot in them but don't tell him I said that

- he probably takes forty-minute showers, and the shower is chock-full of hair products. 2-in-1 shampoo?? Zhongli's never heard of it. He may be (nearly) broke, but he takes care of his hair.

- tbh I think he likes to bake bread. Idk if COVID is a thing in the modern au, but if it is, then he was probably one of the people that searched up 'how to make banana/sourdough bread' and fell in love with making it...

- I like to think that he has a nice and neat schedule for each day, and his sleep schedule specifically is so freakin amazing. He goes to sleep at around 9-10, and wakes up at 6am sharp 😭

diluc

- he also likes tea before bed (and any other time of day really). He loves the different scents of the tea and it calms him a lot, so be prepared for a ton of afternoon tea parties with him :D

- ok so we know that Diluc is super rich and stuff but let's just pretend that he roomed w you to save money-

- he works out. A lot. Usually in the morning and around 8pm, and he always goes to this super fancy private gym or whatever.

- and he KNOWS that you go 'ooga booga man titties' mode whenever you see his chest so that bastard is almost always shirtless

- "Diluc why are u shirtless??" "It's hot in here" "...it's like 65 degrees. How tf are you hot"

- no but he's nice though, don't get me wrong. He'll help you do stuff around the house that you can't and he always seems to be there to help. Can't reach something? Diluc's there. Can't open something because it's too heavy? Diluc's got you.

- he'll do chores, just not very well. Can't do the dishes manually at ALL, and if you do have a dishwasher (which he buys on the third day if you don't), he will fall to his knees and thank the gods.

- he has a 10-step skincare routine. His skin is flawless and you are a little jealous, but if you really want to use some of his products, he won't mind :)

- he can cook (but not desserts/pastries lmao). He's super good with the grill, if you want grilled meat or fish or veggies or anything, really. But if you don't want it grilled, he's just as happy to make it using another method!!

- super good at board games, he's especially amazing at monopoly. Nobody can beat him, and he's proud of it >:)

- you've never been in his room for some reason, but you expect that it's very modern and monochrome, with hints of red (obvi).

- he usually has kinda red eyes in the morning, though, and when you asked about it he said that he likes going for night drives, but you were a little suspicious

- you stayed awake one night and you could hear him exit, but no car noises 🤔 you still wonder on what's he's doing so late almost every single night...

- also speaking about cars, the neighbors are always shocked that there's a lamborghini parked outside of your residence (house, apt building, what have you) lmao

- they're always like "do you have a rich bf?? Who is he??" and you're like "nah he's just my roommate :D"

albedo

- this man!!! He's so big brain!!!

- he'll definitely help you with studying for literally anything. Computer science? He got you covered. Bio? Sign him up. Hell, even art? He's super good at it so he won't mind teaching you!

- but when I tell you that he consumes a lot of coffee, it's a LOT. Like 4-5 cups a day. You wonder how, and even if, he sleeps.

- he makes really good coffee too! He bought one of those super cool ones and the coffee he makes is legendary. No wonder he drinks it so often!!

- he barely eats simply because he has so much work, and you essentially have to force him to come downstairs. You make him eat lunch and dinner, and occasionally breakfast if he can. He's super grateful for it, because he sometimes doesn't realize his hunger until he sits down at the table and his stomach growls like a bear-

- he loves classical music, especially Debussy, and it's always playing in his room. You started warming up to it, actually, and now whenever you hear Debussy, you think of Albedo.

- speaking of his room, it's... kinda messy, actually. Think paper and pencils and eraser shavings everywhere. He does clean it up like two times a month, but the papers always reappear within a couple days.

- he really likes art, and he'll hang some of his faves around the house/apartment :) it honestly makes the whole space feel cozier

- does his chores VERY last-minute, but he feels bad about it. You always tell him that it's nothing to worry about, that he still does them, but he insists on trying his best to do them earlier, which you appreciate :D

- he actually uses you as an art reference sometimes, only if you're free for an hour though. He doesn't like paying for models to come in and pose so he saves money by asking you... or at least that's what he says 👀

- your main bonding time is when you go in his room (or vice-versa) and just chill. He likes your company more than he'd like to admit, and you sometimes catch him staring at you from across the room when you're laying on his barely-used bed.

++++

note : sorry if some characters are a little ooc 😭😭 I'm not too good at writing Diluc n Scara so... OH ALSO I would've included Ayato too but I feel like hes not really the type of person to room w someone (well bc he would def flaunt his wealth by buying a private mansion or smth)