toobusyshrimping

[toobusyshrimping]

Hiatus

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i saw a very important tiktok recently and knew i immediately needed it as a gif so here it is in case y’all want it as well

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18+ only please and thank you

Roommate Ghost who’s basically a rehomed cat.

You barely saw him at first. He’d come out of his room to do laundry, and you’d occasionally spot the back of him as he’s leaving for work, but otherwise it was like living with a ghost. A large, moody ghost who seemed to think eye contact was an unforgivable breach of privacy.

So you did the obvious thing, and coaxed him out with food. You’re lonely, he seems nice enough, and he’s also just conveniently there. It’s no big deal to make something that smells really wonderful when he’s home, and hope he’ll take the bait.

It takes three whole entire dinners. Two delicious meals without so much as a stir from his room, and you’re just about to give up on the whole scheme, when you’re finally rewarded with a tousled head poking out of his room on the third attempt.

“Want some?” you immediately pipe up, giving him an encouraging smile while you scoop noodles into your bowl. Realizing your mistake, you quickly relocate your gaze back to the food, so as not to scare him off.

Cmon, take the bait. Come on out, kitty. You know you want it.

Silent as ever, your massive roommate indeed emerges to fill his belly.

A soft, “Thanks,” is all you get for your efforts, but it thrills you. You sit there practically vibrating with glee, trying to play as cool as possible while you both eat and purposefully don’t speak to each other. There’s just chewing and silence, and the quiet clatter of spoons and forks, and you love it.

The next day, the contents of your personal grocery list have magically appeared in your refrigerator. The meat you needed, vegetables, your special milk for your cereal. Bemused, you step over to your pantry and verify that, yes, he got the dry stuff too. You weren’t planning to cook anything fancy two days in a row, but hell, if he’s around again tonight, you might as well.

But he’s not around. You don’t see him again for several weeks, never even got a text that he was leaving. You were just starting to make progress, and now it’ll all be erased when he returns. You lost your one window of opportunity for building trust, and it’ll be back to silence, back to emptiness, back to being strangers.

But to your surprise, when he does finally come home, he meows at you.

Not officially. Not in, like, actual cat language, but he drops his bag by the door and responds to your quiet greeting with a heavy sigh, and, "It’s good to be back.”

You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face, so you quickly hide it by staring at the TV.

He joins you for dinner the next time you cook. And the next. Groceries pop up like spring flowers, anything you write down, even if it’s snacks he never touches.

He starts hanging out with you while you cook. On the other side of the counter at first, looming like a dark shadow, just listening to your music and offering answers to your small talk.

You keep it light. Keep it friendly and easy, and entice him over occasionally to taste what you’re making. He starts lingering closer, letting the kitchen light touch him, leaning against your side of the counter. The scary side.

And then one day he tells you a joke. Just completely out of the blue, “What do you call an angry carrot?”

“Uhh…” you pause peeling carrots for a second, trying to wrap your head around some scenario where this is a legitimate question, because surely he's not about to tell you an actual joke. “I dunno?”

“A steamed vegetable.”

You return to your carrots with a delighted laugh. He's being friendly, he's making jokes! Best not comment on the progress he's made, because you don’t want to scare him off.

Good luck with that.

He starts following you around like an actual stray cat. You can’t bear to close the door on him, so he’s just always there, hanging out in the doorway, telling you little bits about his day while you brush your teeth for bed. He doesn’t talk a whole lot, prefers to listen to you yap, but he’s shut in his room less and less.

Except for the bad times. Simon goes through phases where he recluses himself again. Sometimes it’s only a few hours, other times it’s days, but he occasionally needs time to himself, and you don’t mind. You still get a thrill every time he appears again, metaphorically meowing at you and rubbing up against your leg.

God, you wish he would. You could use some good leg rubbing, actually.

Is he the rubbing type? He’s never made a pass at you, never touched you at all, and even the times when you’ve hung out together in your room, he always stood politely in the doorway. Always turned his head to the side when you’ve had to open your underwear drawer or spilled sauce on your shirt and had to strip it off. He’s just like that, always aware of your personal space and his, uncomfortable about the two bubbles touching without warning.

When it finally happens, it's you who's surprised.

You've just halted mid-step in the middle of the kitchen, staring down at the corner of the cabinets because you swear you just saw something move.

When all of a sudden, and actual mouse scampers across the floor, doing erratic zig zags like it's too scared to decide where to go, and all you can do is scream because it's coming right for you--

A thick arm clamps around your stomach, and your feet abruptly lose contact with the floor. You've completely lost track of the mouse, you're just frozen in shock from the fact that your whole back is glued to Simon's side, and he doesn't even bother to hold you up with both arms as he swivels around searching for where the mouse went.

"Thanks," you squeak, patting his forearm as a signal to put you down. "You're really strong, holy shit."

He grunts like he doesn't agree. "Doesn't take much to lift somebody."

Your feet touch back down to the linoleum, and you just hope your hot face isn't too evident. "Right, uh huh. Cause I could definitely lift you."

"Probably could."

You eye him skeptically, all the way from his socks, to the always-mussed hair at the top of the mountain. "I don't feel like throwing out my back, but thanks for the offer."

"I wasn't offering."

It's just small talk. Regular jokes, with his usual deadpan delivery, but you swear there was something he meant to say in those words. You try to discern them, gazing up into those brown eyes that don't mind meeting yours anymore.

It's hanging in the air, the thing he meant to say. You don't want to try and guess. It's too risky, and you might hurt yourself if you get it wrong.

"What is it, Simon? What's wrong?"

His eyes stutter for just a second, like he's ripping himself out of a train of thought. "I think you should hide in your room while I find that mouse."

Stupid, cockblocking mouse.

You don't sleep well that night. You keep thinking about your quiet roommate, end up having to jerk off at two in the morning just to get a little bit of relief, and your sleep is fretful even after that.

You ask about the mouse the next day, and he swears he not only caught it, but released it in the woods a mile away. There's absolutely no telling if he's pulling your leg or not, so you just drop it, too absorbed in the questions that were haunting you all night.

"I'm not good at... fucking."

Your head snaps up, staring wide eyed at Simon's troubled expression across the table. "What?"

"I've never been with a woman before. At least, not... like this. Wager I'll make a fool of myself, so I might as well get it out in the open."

"Oh. Um." Your heart is pounding, your mind whirling to comprehend how you got here so suddenly. He looks so scared, holding himself rigidly into place without so much as blinking, and you're taking far too long to answer at this point.

"I'm good at it," you finally tell him, hoping it sounds more comforting and less like a brag. "We can figure it out together, if it's something you want to do."

"Okay."

It takes a little while to get there. Some time to find a natural moment to take his hand in yours, for him to return the gesture by wrapping his arm around your waist and bringing your body over to his. But then his hand finds the back of your neck, and he's definitely not a beginner at kissing.

You've wanted it for so long, imagined it so often, that the press of his body against yours almost feels familiar. The seeking movements of his lips, the soft breaths coasting over your cheek. It's quiet and slow, in the corner of your shared kitchen.

He tucks your body into his, lets you saturate yourself in each second of this moment while you both learn the way the other likes to kiss. You end up in your bed soon after, just for the sake of comfort and lining up your mouths a little more conveniently.

It's easy to lose yourself in the safety of him. Your body feels at home in the muscled softness of his, in the thoughtful, patient movements of his hands exploring under your clothes. It feels like he's belonged to you far sooner than today.

His first time isn't perfect, but he makes up for his inexperience by taking his time. Laughs at your breathless, "a hole is a hole" statement, and insists on exploring with his mouth and fingers first.

Simon makes the prettiest noises when he finds your wetness waiting for him. He seems to enjoy the feeling of it on his fingers, sliding them in and out so carefully, studying the textures inside you. He tastes his own fingers, less like a scientist and more like a little kid who's discovering new flavors in the sandbox.

He makes a sound then, a warm, rumbly one, and then pulls his fingers out of his mouth to lean down and find your clit with his lips.

A hole is a hole, but there's something special about whispering little cues at him in the dark, and the way he efficiently adjusts himself, ever the dedicated soldier. A hole is a hole, but you cum like that, with your roommate's strong hand gripping your hip, and his mouth accomplishing exactly the motion you need to draw a slow, brain-melting orgasm out of you.

"Yeah, just like that," you pant a few moments later, shoving his face away from your oversensitive pussy.

Just like that.

[toobusyshrimping]

genuinely wild to me that my entire job is being on the phone now. when i moved from my factory job into the office management side i had panic attacks over every phone call. once i had to call a a sales representative for one of our suppliers and left a voicemail for this man (named sam) where i very loudly began with “Hi, Ham!” and i froze for a solid 15 seconds of stomach-to-asshole terror before i hung the phone up with audible force. and that was the day my supervisor told me through tears that if you press the pound key at the end of your voicemail instead of hanging up it gives you the option to re-record.

[toobusyshrimping]

Dakota Johnson & Pedro Pascal Answer Rapid-Fire Questions | Off the Cuff | Vogue

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PEDRO PASCAL & DAKOTA JOHNSON Answer Rapid-Fire Questions | Off the Cuff - Vogue

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That fight brought me so much joy

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Which could mean nothing

love the vibe of this photo. no idea what any of it could mean

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my soap headcanon

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"I love you , I'm glad we're friends"

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@skurwienie edit

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Ya know what

*un-microscopics your organism*

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thinking about simon riley being the sweetest, lovable partner, but god is he awkward

you’ll give him a gift like a sweet treat or something that reminded you of him (which of course he isn’t used to), but he’ll just…stand there. posture so uncomfortably straight you’re sure he’s about to announce to you that he threw up

no words, no facial expressions or gestures, just six feet and three inches of simon. utterly, completely, unapologetically simon

and you wouldn’t have it any other way

[toobusyshrimping]

18+ only please and thank you

Ghost who's a free use slut for Sgt MacTavish.

It didn't start off that way. At first it was your typical barracks hookups, finally giving in to the pining and the unnecessary eye contact that neither of them could mistake or explain away.

Hasty hands unclasping belts, sturdy fabric getting yanked out of the way. They'd both had work relationships before, the sex wasn't anything groundbreaking.

But the funny thing about Ghost is he doesn't love people.

Sure, his heart may pound and his chest may crack open, but everyone feels that way from time to time. It'll pass, obviously, so he'll just throw himself headlong into the sex and wait for sanity to surface. He'll just turn into an absolute horn dog because being physically needy is far less embarrassing than admitting the truth about his emotional needs.

And the funny thing about Sgt MacTavish is he's incredibly good at reading people.

He's worked with Ghost long enough to glimpse behind the curtain from time to time. To recognize the way his eyes drop when he's afraid, when vulnerability is clawing at him so hard he can barely focus on the conversation they're having. He understands the need for patience, to let Ghost take his time and get a good long look at things before he jumps in with both feet.

So Sgt MacTavish uses Ghost. Exhausts him. Drags him past his limits, and makes the contact so plentiful and generous that Ghost doesn't have a single reason to pull away.

MacTavish meets him in the landscape of his coping mechanism and sits there with him. Fucks his brains out because it's what he needs.

A hand on his cock in the shower. I'll take care of you, Ghost.

A forearm braced against the side of his neck, so he can't move away from what's being done to him below. You can rest on me, Ghost.

Gets toyed with and denied all day, just to cum to a voice and the friction of the mattress later. I'm not going anywhere, Ghost.

Made to feel like a slut, because that's what's safe. Play acting the give and take of a real relationship, because he needs the practice.

Ghost doesn't love people.

But he really, really likes Sgt MacTavish.

[toobusyshrimping]

18+ only please and thank you

Roommate Soap who loves getting bullied.

Who finds himself time and time again getting roasted and teased by your friends because his face gets so red, and his cock gets so hard.

The red face is obviously fun, but every time you notice the bulge he’s failing to hide behind a couch pillow, it becomes a whole new ballgame.

“Why are you here all the time, Johnny? Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“I think he’s hoping we’ll start making out in front of him.”

“What a little perv.”

No, he doesn’t have a girlfriend, sorry. And he’s here all the time because he’s in between deployments, and he’s not a perv.

“You’re not? Are you suuure?”

Resting in the other corner of the couch, your bare foot sneaks over to lift the side of the throw pillow when he’s not expecting it.

“Aww, look at that. Little Johnnny’s hard again.”

The chorus of delighted giggles has more blood blasting to his face, and both arms securing the stupid pillow down on his rock hard erection. He’s a soldier, damn it, not an embarrassed teenager.

“You’d be hiding in your room if you didn’t like this, wouldn’t you? It’s so funny that you’re still here.”

One of your friends plops down on the other side of him, stepping two fingers in a miniature walk up his neck. “Oh, he likes it.”

“I don’t fucking like it,” he finally gets the nerve to spit out, tingling all over with the sensation of fingers running through his hair.

“Prove it. Show us your cock.”

“That’s got nothing to do wi—“

The pillow gets yanked away and thrown across the room, so suddenly that Johnny reacts without thinking. His hand flies up to cover his throbbing erection, and with the unexpected weight of his own palm pressing against him, he accidentally moans.

“Aww, he can’t help himself. Move your hand out of the way, give us a peek.”

Once again, Johnny finds himself surrounded by a little group of your sidekicks, wandering hands sliding down his body, under his clothes. Jokes at his expense, whispers and gasps when you finally get him out of his underwear.

He feels like the most shameful little slut, cumming in the living room for everybody as usual, with your hand wrapped around his poor, aching dick, and his cum landing on your outstretched tongue.

Ahh, but he’s your little slut, isn’t he? He had to take off work to be home in time for your friends coming over. He likes it.

[toobusyshrimping]

Call of Duty: Black Ops 7 | Reveal Trailer.