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clawsdevour · 2 months

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*❥. ᭄sakusa bf hcs

wc: 0.6k content warning: fluff, slight smut, aged up, post-time skip, mention of praise, not proofread, my shitty writing

note: i tried to research what itachiyama's school mascot was and it's supposedly weasel?? there's no weasel emoji so if ur confused why i put a squirrel... well its the closest emoji that looks like a weasel...

•̩̩͙*˚ ❀⠲⣄🐿️

-Sakusa, the type of boyfriend to hold every door open for you. He does this because he doesn't want your hands to get dirty since he would probably remove a tissue from his pocket to avoid direct contact with the door handle.

-Sakusa, the type of boyfriend to get jealous when he sees that a man is either interested in you. He shows his jealousy by placing his hands on your waist to keep you away from those filthy men while giving them his killer death stare.

-Sakusa, the type of boyfriend to enjoy watching you take care of yourself. He loves just watching you get ready like starting from your skincare, to your hair, to your makeup. If he sees you catching him staring in the reflection of your mirror he'd say something along the lines of 'Sorry you're just so pretty.'

-Sakusa, the type of boyfriend to most likely not enjoy taking selfies with you a lot even though you really want to since he's aware that he's not very expressive. However he does enjoy taking candids or just regular photos of you, he'd even try his best to capture your angles and lighting.

-Sakusa, the type of boyfriend to definitely scoff at you when you get sick because he already warned you so many times about germs and bacteria. However, he does take the best care of you even though he's very cautious that he may also end up sick. He knows what remedies to purchase for you to feel better, and would cook you soups that help fight the cold. He also may or may not be sleeping on the couch.. letting you infect the bedsheets alone until you've recovered where he's gonna have to scrub and hunt down each germ when he's cleaning up.

-Sakusa, the type of boyfriend to overall just love taking care of you. If you mention to him how you have to get up early for an event, he'd wake up a bit earlier than you to cook you a full breakfast to make you have a proper meal. He'd probably also enjoy doing the little things for you, for example folding your laundry. He'd probably think about you in the clothing piece that he's currently folding up, causing him to faintly smile a bit.

-Sakusa, the type of boyfriend to have your parents intimidated upon first meeting him. However, your parents do warm up to his kind and honorable nature. He enjoys speaking about his love for you, showing them his vulnerable side as his stiff facial features soften.

-Sakusa, the type of boyfriend to secretly enjoy watching you swallow his cum. Even though he'd rather have you not since it's disgusting, he does think that the sight of you with your mouth open to show him that it's all flushed down is somewhat hot.

-Sakusa, the type of boyfriend to have you gripping the bedsheets as his pelvis plummets deeper with each thrust. His hard grip on your waist leaves a bruise when he takes his hand off to land a slap on your ass. He enjoys seeing you look back at him with your lewd expression, talking about how good you take him.

-Sakusa, the type of boyfriend to carry you over the shower and continue to fuck you until you're clean. After, he'd even blow dry your hair for you before changing the sheets to some fresh ones to sleep on. Sakusa would enjoy cuddling, even though it's skin-to-skin contact he'd have his head tucked under your chin, enjoying the fresh scent of soap from your shower.

masterlist here

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retrolvr4 · 3 months

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I’d Fix it if I Could

Darry Curtis x Female Reader

Pt 2

Summary: The ac is broken down in the Curtis house on Darry's day off and can’t be fixed until tomorrow

Warnings- slight sexual content, making out, mostly fluff, some cursing

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The hot weather of Oklahoma beat down on you and the rest of the boys at the Curtis house. With your guy’s luck, the AC had broken down. Despite having multiple fans running the house was still scorching hot. “Soda, go fix the ac or somethin’” you groaned desperately trying to unstick your shorts and tank top from your sweaty body. You laid on the floor in an attempt to cool down but it was not helping. “Y/n, I work on cars” He deadpanned back “They gotta be kinda similar, I'm dying here” you shot back “Honey, quit your arguing with Soda, I called a repair guy, he can be here tomorrow mornin’” Darry cut in, as he walked into the living room where you all were sat. “Tomorrow?” everyone collectively exclaimed, groans following “Guys” He started “and my gal” he said as he looked at you “I did what I could, we’re only stuck like this for today” “Darry since you're big and strong and super smart you should go out and fix it” you said as you sat up and looked at him with doe eyes, desperately wanting him to fix the problem now. Darry chuckled a little at your attempt to flatter him “Doll trust me if I knew how to fix it, I would’ve been out there hours ago” “Man fuck this it's so hot, I'm going to the theater or something, at least it'll be cold in there” Dally complained as he stood up “Maybe if you didn't wear jeans in 100-degree weather you'd be a little more comfortable Dal” you said to him “Shut it man, I'm not gonna be a pussy and wear short shorts like you” he shot back “Oh good, I’ll get you a mini dress then sweetcheeks” you replied then threw a pillow from the couch at him “You little shit” he said as he walked towards you, he picked you up off the floor by your arms. You screamed and laughed as he threw you onto the couch next to Darry. “Would anyone besides y/n care to join me at the theater” he asked Pony and Johnny stood up, they both uttered a version of ‘I don't got anything better to do’ as they followed Dally out the door. “Sugar, you rile him up so bad” Steve remarked with a laugh, chocolate cake adorning the corners of his mouth. “I’m aware Steve” you replied “Soda you’ve got about half an hour you should get ready so you’re not late to work, it's almost 3:30” Darry said to the boy sitting on the floor. “Shit I suppose” Soda said as he stood up to go change into his work clothes. Steve was already dressed and continued to eat the chocolate cake.

About half an hour later, you and Darry had the house to yourselves. The two of you sat on the couch, watching whatever daytime show was on. Your legs rested on Darry’s lap as he rubbed them. “Ugh Dare does anything need cleaned up or organized? I need to move around I’m so hot” “Damn right you are” He remarked, and you rolled your eyes with a laugh “Actually, the laundry needs done, and the kitchen is a mess, but I can take care of it” “Nono let me help, you do so much between work and taking care of the boys” You replied sweetly and slid closer to him so you could kiss his cheek. Darry grabbed your waist and pulled you to him, so you were now straddling his lap. He held the back of your head and pulled you into him, kissing you needily. You quickly returned the kiss with just as much desperation. You pulled away to catch your breath “baby- the laundry-” you gasped “Laundry can wait” he muttered as he worked his large hands up your shirt. He slipped his hand under your bra and began gently toying with your nipple. “Darry, I’m probably so gross and sweaty and stinky and-” you said between small whines as he kissed your neck, gently sucking on areas he knew you were especially sensitive to. “Shh beautiful” he reassured you “stop worrying, I don't care about what state you're in, I always love you and think you're the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” “Darry, I love you” you said and brought his lips to yours. Kissing him sweetly, you ran your hands through his hair, tugging on the strands. Which resulted in a groan from him. Darry ran his hands gently along your sides, tracing your figure. You felt his growing erection on your thigh, resulting in your arousal also growing. Darry ran his fingers under your waistband, as you traced your fingers along his toned chest over his shirt. He continued to gently kiss down your neck and on your chest. “Honey as much as I’m enjoying this, Pony’s probably gonna be home any minute and we should start dinner soon” You reluctantly said Darry sighed and placed a final kiss on your collarbone “you're right beautiful” As if on cue you heard Pony from the porch, bidding Dally and Johnny goodbye. You gave Darry a quick kiss and smoothed his hair down, before promptly crawling off his lap and sitting next to him instead. Pony walked in as you were asking Darry if he’d rather you clean the kitchen or do the laundry, still insisting on helping him with his tasks. “Hey Pony” you and Darry both greeted, faces still red from earlier events but you could easily blame it on the heat. “Was the movie any good” You asked “Dally didn't want to pay so we snuck into a movie that had already started, it was something with Barbra Streisand. Dal was pretty pissed off” Pony replied with a shrug You laughed and Darry said “We’re gonna start dinner in about an hour, you good with spaghetti?” Pony’s eyes lit up “yeah that sounds perfect, I’ve been wantin’ spaghetti” You smiled at Pony as walked down the hall to his room. “I'll clean the kitchen and you do the laundry?” Darry proposed “Sounds good” you said and the two of you stood up to work on your tasks.

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I'll make a part two soon! I didn’t feel like writing smut rn 😔

Thanks for reading!

#the outsiders #darry curtis #darry curtis x you #darry curtis x y/n #darrel curtis x reader #darry curtis x reader #darrel curtis x you #darrel curtis #80s #60s

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simjaexy · 2 months

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Laundry Girl

Pairing: Non Idol! Park Jongseong x Fem! Reader / Ft. Nosy Roommate Sunghoon

Synopsis: Jay hated the laundry mat. He didn’t like how loud the noises were, the kids that would cry loudly, but what he most of all didn’t like was his clothes getting stolen. That’s was until he met you.

Genre: Fluff, Crack

Warning: Cursing

Notes: Not proofread, Enjoy!

“What the hell do you mean it’s broken?” Jay snapped. Recently, Jay got a new dryer cause his other one just randomly stopped working.

His roommate, Sunghoon was no stranger to breaking things, but why the hell did it have to be the dryer?

Sunghoon shrugged his shoulders, “I think it is, it won’t turn on!” Sunghoon said. Jay groaned and gripped his hair in frustration.

“This one cost a fortune and you break it?” Jay scolded. Sunghoon gave him a look and got up.

“Dude it’s fine, there’s a laundry mat near here, you can just use that one until we get a new one.”

“I paid enough! When are you going to do me a favor?” Jay said. Sunghoon nervously laughed.

“Listen, I’ll make you breakfast in the morning. That doesn’t sound like a bad plan right?” Sunghoon suggested.

Jay still had a glare on his face, but nonetheless, he sighed and grabbed the basket full of wet clothes.

“I’ll be back. You owe me big time.” Was all Jay said and left.

On his way there he had an unreadable expression, but in all honesty, he was pissed. He hated the laundry mat and going there on an already bad day was not on his list.

It was five minutes away so sure it wasn’t a long walk, except for it was to go to the laundry mat.

He walked past people that gave him weird stares, probably because he was carrying a basket with wet clothes in a sunny afternoon.

He didn’t care though, he just wanted to get it done and over with.

Once he finally made it he opened the door causing the bell to ring and was greeted by little kids running around with a mom on the call.

She seemed stressed out as she watched her kids run around. Jay ignored them and went to a dryer.

He pushed his and Sunghoon clothes in the dryer angrily and put the quarters in the slot. He grumble as he sat down.

The kids that he saw earlier ran past him, one of them screaming while the other was laughing. Jay sighed. This is gonna be a while.

The bell rang on the top of the door which meant someone else came in. He ignored the person that walked behind him and watched the clothes go around a circle.

He heard shuffling behind him until he heard the spoke.

“Where the hell are they? Shit.” A female voice quavered. Jay wasn’t really a nosy guy, still he glanced behind him to see a girl frantically looking through her purse.

He turned his head back around. Maybe she lost something? He decided to mind his own business and instead occupy himself with his phone.

That was cut off shortly when the girl tapped on his shoulder, “E-Excuse me, do you have quarters I could borrow? I’m really sorry for bothering you.” Her light voice asked.

Jay felt himself moving before he could reply and checked to see if he had quarters. He had a few spare ones.

He took out some and gave them to the girl, which she happily accepted, “Thank you so much! I’ll pay you back.” She beamed.

Jay gave her a light smile and shook his head, “No need too, I don’t really use quarters.” He replied.

It wasn’t technically a lie, though they are some good companions for it. The girl giggled and put them in the slot and sat down next to Jay.

She was facing the other way, so Jay couldn’t really see what she was doing. Probably watching her clothes too.

It was silent for a few seconds before she spoke.

“Is this your first time here? Sorry, I just never seen you before.” She smiled. Jay felt himself fluster at the comment.

It wasn’t really his first time here, he’s been here before, but a while back. He didn’t know if he should lie or be honest. He decided to stick with the second one.

“I’ve been here before a long time ago. I’m here today because my roommate broke the dryer.” Jay said. Your mouth shaped into a ‘oh’.

“Well I’m here because I don’t have a dryer.” You laughed. Jay found himself laughing at the comment too.

“Do you not have the money for it or?” Jay stopped talking and stared. He didn’t realize that the comment could’ve came out mean.

“W-Well not in a mean way but-“

“My apartment didn’t come with one. My landlord said they’re gonna try to install one soon, so I’m just sticking to this for now.” You replied. Jay hummed.

His dryer suddenly stopped. That’s when he noticed the kids were gone and it was just him and the girl. He got up and checked to see if his and Sunghoon clothes were dry.

Surprisingly they were. He took their clothes out and put them in the basket. Once he finished he picked the basket up and looked at the girl.

“Well it was nice knowing you?”

“Y/n.”

Jay smiled, “It was nice knowing you Y/n.” He said.

She gave him a content smile, “Well I don’t think this will be the last time I’ll see you handsome boy.” You teased.

Jay felt his cheeks go red at the nickname you gave him and cleared his throat.

“Oh right, my name is Jongseong, but you can call me Jay.” He said. You chuckled and nodded.

“Okay, Jay.”

“Why are you smiling so much weirdo.” Sunghoon stared. Sunghoon knows when Jay is mad, sad, confused, drunk, happy, or even dazed. What he doesn’t know is why Jay is smiling like he’s in a trance.

Jay looked at Sunghoon and stopped smiling. Ouch, Sunghoon thought. Well it’s not him that’s making him smile, so who is it?

“What are you talking about?” Jay said. He looked back at the TV and laughed at a certain part of the scene.

“You’re smiling like a weirdo! Ever since you came back you’ve been jolly. I thought you didn’t like going to the laundry mat?” Sunghoon exclaimed.

“I don’t?”

“So why were you smiling when you got back!” Sunghoon bellowed. Jay sighed. He knew that if he told Sunghoon he’d make fun of him.

“I saw cute kids.” Jay lied.

“You hate kids.”

“Well now I like them.”

“Why are you smiling so much.” Sunghoon asked again. Jay felt like pulling his hair like earlier. He mind as well should tell him.

Before he could speak another word the doorbell rang. Jay perked up.

“Oh well you look at that pizzas here!” He chimed. He got up and went to the door, hearing a sigh hum escape Sunghoon.

He put the pizza on the table and went to grab plates for him and Sunghoon. Sunghoon caught up to him, but was still giving him a strange look.

Maybe he just witness something he liked? A guitar on the way home?, Sunghoon thought. Jay does have a liking to guitars, so Sunghoon just assumed that.

They both walked back to the couch and selected a movie to watch. But even though they chose a scary one, Jay was still smiling.

“Sunghoon have you seen my keys?” Jay yelled. Sunghoon came out from his room dressed.

“I got em. I’m coming with you.” Sunghoon said. Jay stopped in his tracks, hoping he didn’t just hear what he thought he heard.

He saw Sunghoon was wearing a white t-shirt under his blue sweater with sweatpants. Jay on the other hand wore something a bit formal (definitely it to try to impress you).

Originally Sunghoon didn’t wanna go since he too hated the laundry mat, but seeing Jay so happy Sunghoon considered to go. Let’s just say he’s a curious boy.

“You’re not coming with me.” Jay said. Sunghoon scoffed and closed his room door.

“You can’t tell me what to do, I can do what I want.” Sunghoon commented. Jay pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Why do you wanna come all of a sudden?” Jay asked.

“Because I wanna go? Can’t I spend time with my friend?”

“At the laundry mat?”

“It could be bromance.” Sunghoon added. Jay rolled his eyes and opened the door with Sunghoon following giddily behind him.

Jay isn’t really the type to get insecure over other people, but the way Sunghoon struts right next to him like he owns the world definitely didn’t help the fact that Jay was holding the basket.

Even though Sunghoon was wearing comfy clothes he made it look like a runway with the way he walks.

Jay on the other hand, walked somewhat like an uncle even though he had more formal clothes on.

He wanted to at least try to impress you a tiny bit, that all comes crashing down to Sunghoon who was, Jay considered, more attractive than him.

Sunghoon always pulled girls from left and right, so it wouldn’t be new that you would fall for his looks.

While Jay was thinking, Sunghoon unfortunately was thinking something different. There’s no guitars, don’t see any cats anywhere, something isn’t right, Sunghoon pondered.

He kept a good eye out for the last four minutes, but hasn’t seen anything that Jay would like.

He looked over at Jay who also seemed to be in hard thought.

“Are we there yet?” Sunghoon groaned. His feet were already hurting.

“One minute.” Was all Jay said. Sunghoon pouted until he saw the sign that said ‘Laundry Mat’.

They went inside to see a few people, “There’s a lot more people than yesterday.” Jay said. He was only hoping you weren’t here.

They began walking but was soon stopped by a feminine voice.

“Jay?” A sweet voice said. Jay cursed himself for recognizing the voice. Sunghoon turned around to see a girl that looked around their age.

She had her hair down with a sweater and shorts. You had a cute smile. She’s cute, Sunghoon thought. That’s when it clicked in his head. He averted his gaze to Jay.

Sunghoon grinned at him, “Well there’s the reason.”

Jay ignored him, his cheeks turning red, “ O-Oh hey uh Y/n was it?” He said. Jay mentally slapped himself while Sunghoon closed his eyes in embarrassment.

Even though it came out a bit mean you still laughed, “Yup! It’s me.” You responded. Jay felt his heart melt. You were too sweet.

There was an awkward silence before Sunghoon spoke up, “I’m Sunghoon by the way, Jay’s friend and roommate.” He said.

He lend out his hand which you took. You gave him a sweet smile, “So you’re the person that broke the dryer.” You giggled.

Sunghoon gave you a surprised look, Jay just had to tell you, “Oh yeah, that’s me.” Sunghoon chuckled while rubbing his neck.

Now they were both embarrassed. You were still giving them that sweet smile, “By the way Jay, I brought my quarters!” You mentioned.

Jay laughed at your sudden comment, “Looks like I bring extra for nothing.” He said. You gave him a teasing smile.

“Aw you brought some for me?” You joked. He coughed and looked around.

“Anyways me and Sunghoon are gonna go find a dryer, it was nice talking to you!” Jay ranted. He dragged Sunghoon away and went to a random dryer.

“Dude you are embarrassing!” Sunghoon argued.

Jay gave him a glare, “Maybe if you weren’t with me I wouldn’t be embarrassing!” Jay argued back. Sunghoon scoffed and crossed his arms.

“There’s no way you can get a girl if you act like that.”

“I didn’t yesterday! I was actually normal until you came!” Jay snapped.

Sunghoon let out a humorous laugh, “You’re a funny guy.” He sassed.

They both continued bickering until Sunghoon put his hand in front of Jay’s face, “Let’s face it, you’re a bad flirt. So being a good friend that I am, I’ll do the clothes while you go talked to her.” He reasoned.

Jay swatted his hand away, “I can’t do that! She probably thinks I’m weird now.” Jay complained.

“It’s better to try than be sorry. Now go before I change my mind.” Sunghoon pushed him away and grabbed the wet clothes and put them in the dryer.

Jay cursed to himself before scanning for you. He noticed you were waiting for your clothes to dry, smiling at people that walked past you.

He felt his heart increasing by second with his palms sweaty. Once he finally went up to you it all went away when you gave him another smile.

“Oh hey Jay.” You said.

He cleared his throat dryly, “Hey. Mind if I sit with you?” Jay asked. You patted your hand on the bench.

He sat next to you, “I wanna apologize for how me and friend were acting, we don’t usually act like that.” Jay began, “It’s just that I didn’t really wanna see you today?” He said.

You gave him a confused look, “Do you not like me.” You questioned.

His eyes widened, “No! It’s not that at all! I was just nervous to see you again cause Sunghoon was with me.” He said.

You let out a ‘oh’ and looked back at your clothes, “Sunghoons pretty nice. He’s handsome too.” You shrugged.

Jay snickered, “Yeah we’ll wait until you see through him, he’s not as nice.” Jay smiled.

“Well the reason why I came today was to see you.” You twirled your hair, “I actually got a dryer yesterday when I got back, but I wanted to see you one last time.” You admitted.

Jay felt time stop. You wanted to see him? Jay felt his cheeks heat up again, but then he smiled, “Wanted to see me again huh?” He smirked.

You blushed and looked away, “D-Don’t start that now!” You whined. Jay laughed amusingly.

“Well why don’t we keep in touch? I can give you my number.” Jay said. You stared at him surprised.

“Really?”

“If you want.” He replied. You quickly took out your phone while Jay laughed at how urgent you were.

He typed in his number and gave you back your phone. You squealed in excitement. He admired how you were honest with your feelings.

“Why are you so happy you have my number?”

“Because you’re handsome. It’s not everyday you see a handsome guy walking in a laundry mat.” You said.

Jay chuckled, “Well I still have to get going, text me when you’re done?” He asked. You nodded your head.

“I will.” You replied. He got up and started heading towards Sunghoon but stopped midway to look at you.

“Let’s go on a date tomorrow.” He said. He felt a strange energy of confidence.

You gave him a cheerful look, “Okay!” You beamed.

He smiled back and went back to Sunghoon. Sunghoon gave him a smug look.

“Looks like someone decided to go at it.” He teased.

“Do you ever shut up?” Jay said.

Sunghoon laughed. He took out the dry clothes and put them in the basket, “I think you should be saying ‘thank you Sunghoon for making me get the balls to confess to this girl I like!’” Sunghoon joked.

“And you wonder why you’re still single.” Jay deadpanned. They left while bickering again, but Jay couldn’t thank Sunghoon enough for the confidence.

Once they got home Sunghoon plopped on the couch, “I missed you.” He mumbled.

Jay gave him a weird look and went to his room. He folded his and Sunghoon clothes separately until he heard a notification coming from his phone.

Pretty girl: Hey I’m done with my clothes!

Pretty girl: About the date though, where do you wanna go?

Handsome Boy 💞: Wherever you wanna go, it doesn’t matter to me

Pretty girl: Okay I’ll let you know!

Handsome boy 💞: Alright, see you tomorrow ;)

Pretty girl: 😚

Jay smiled at the message and hearted it. He put his phone down and continued folding his clothes. Today definitely was the best day of his life.

“Hey Jay! The dryer works! It was unplugged the whole time!” Sunghoon shouted from the living room.

Yup, Jay was gonna kill him.

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the-froschamethyst4 · 9 months

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Do I think the COD men are good Father?

COD Men Headcanons

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König

König is a girl dad

He loves his girls

But I think he would be a good father

He'd talk more in German than English

König would want his child to learn German more than English because he feels like German will be more useful in the Primary Schools than English, but his child can speak English if they wish

When you were pregnant with with your baby, he went to all the parenting classes with you

König changes the diapers, picks the boogies, takes the spit up from the baby and will wake up in the middle of the night for the baby just so his little wife could get some rest

He does bring his kid to the base every once and a while to show off his kid

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Ghost

✨Girl Dad✨ and you know it

OF COURSE HE’S A GOOD FATHER!!!

He doesn’t want his child to grow up like he did, he’s going to be better than his own father

Simon isn’t Ghost when he’s home, he doesn’t bring that alter-ego into or anywhere in the house

Simon learns to control himself when it comes to cussing

He lets one slip out but he got smacked for it

Watches children shows with his baby. He doesn’t dare to touch the remote to change the channel, the baby could sense when he was going to change the channel

He went to the parenting classes

He takes over doing the diapers, spit-up and waking up in the middle of the night…boogers freak him out

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Price

Who we kidding OF COURSE HE’S A GOOD FATHER!!

He doesn’t care what gender the baby comes out to be he was going to love them no matter what

Has joked he wants around 8-10 kids but of course you won’t let him and your body will probably give out at 2 anyways

Goes to the parenting classes

Does diapers, makes bottles, washes the baby and wakes up in the middle of the night

Price will sometimes not even make it to work on time because he wants to make sure his baby and wife are safe before he leaves

Likes to watch kid cartoons with his child

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Soap

Not gonna lie…he’d be a good father but…you sometimes need to watch your husband more than your baby

He absolutely SCARES the shit out of you, your husband will pick the baby up and launch them into the air but catches them. The laughs are funny but you are scared he’ll miss and they land on the floor

He barely went to the parenting classes (went for 4 weeks and thinks he knows everything)

Does make bottles, diapers, every once and a while wakes up in the middle of the night, no booger picking

He does stop working out a lot and has collectively started to get the dad bod which you do love

He gives his dog tags to his wife just in case something happens he has an extra pair

Goodbye kisses to both of his babies when he leaves for work

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Alejandro

Alejandro good father

Boy and girl dad, doesn't care on gender

Alejandro has this thing on dressing his baby in cute animal onesies, his mom did it to him and his siblings, might as well keep it going with his kid(s)

He works from home a lot now

Watching kid cartoons got on his nerves in the beginning but now he's more into them then the baby

When the baby was born Alejandro jokingly did some 'ice breakers' with his kid, he thought it was funny but you as his wife not so much

He went to the parenting classes

He wakes up in the middle of the night, makes bottles, diaper changes, even makes dinner, and the house shopping

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Gaz

Good father

Does call in to see how his family is doing while he's away

Went to the parenting classes

Does diapers, makes bottles, take turns waking up in the middle of the night and takes the spit-up

No cussing in the household

He got bored of watching the cartoons, but he listens more than watches them

Does the cooking to let you rest

Basically starts picking up your chores so you could rest, like laundry, washing dishes and cooking, he still does his own chores, like cleaning/dusting

Dresses the baby, sometimes will even purposely do matching outfits from time-to-time

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod

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ssspideysense · 7 months

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₊˚ෆ bad habits

summary: peter tends to act on impulse — that’s what got him here in the first place.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

tags: fluff, pining, peter’s a hopeless romantic

wc: 2.7k

What makes something a bad habit?

People usually use the phrase when they mean too much of something— too much coffee in the morning, too many cigarettes a day, too much to drink on the weekends. Overindulgence. Lack of self control.

Peter thought about this as he waited, the skin-tight material of his suit doing absolutely nothing to block the chilling rain running down his back. Past the city lights glimmering against her window pane, the apartment inside was dimly lit. He could make out the splash of colors against the hallway from the living room TV. It wouldn’t surprise him if she fell asleep on the couch again— she had a bad habit of staying up too late, biting off more than she could chew most nights and paying for it a few hours later. He wondered briefly, and hoped a bit selfishly, that he maybe had something to do with that.

He knocked again. Louder, in a little rhythm— bum ba bum, bum ba bum.

No more than once a week. That’s how it started out, however many months ago, when he crawled through that window for the first time. Swinging by more than one night a week would be way too much. He had things to do, really, and so did she. It wasn’t realistic to expect her to wait around, twiddling her pretty little thumbs, keeping her schedule free for a chance to let him into her bedroom window at 12:17 am.

12:18 am.

12:19 am.

Peter shivered. The cold had started to seep into his skin, but the chill that ran up and down his spine wasn’t from the sudden downpour.

Even the glimpse of her figure, a dark silhouette he could pick out in any city crowd, was enough to set off that tingle in the base of his skull, even for just a moment. He watched her scurry over to the window, an apologetic look tugging on her face.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t hear you,” she said, and her voice was music slipping over the smack of raindrops against the iron fire escape, “oh my God, get in here, will you?”

If he had a tail, it’d be wagging. Sometimes he was grateful for the mask and the few freedoms it allowed him—

“Wait here.”

—she couldn’t see the way his entire face lit up as he happily maneuvered through the window, or the way his eyes followed her as she wandered over to her linen closet to grab a towel for him.

Peter stood in a puddle on her hardwood. Obedient, embarrassingly so.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked. In the relative dark of her quiet bedroom, she handed him the towel, gazing up at him with the kind of eyes that make poets pick up pens.

“I should probably be saying yes, since it’s midnight, but I’m going to be disappointing and say no,” she chuckled under her breath and took a small step back.

Peter wrapped the towel around his shoulders like a kid getting out of the pool. It smelled like her laundry detergent, a scent he never thought he’d catch himself daydreaming about when he was miles away and objectively much busier with something much more pressing.

He had a bad habit of letting his mind wander, especially when it wanted to grip onto memories of her.

“You’re gonna hate yourself in the morning,” he replied.

She sent him a pointed look with a raised brow. “And so are you, when you wake up sick. What the hell are you doing? Does the song Itsy Bitsy Spider not ring a bell?”

She fussed over him. He liked it when she fussed over him.

“Yeah, y’know, the part where he climbs up the spout again is my favorite, actually.”

There was a pair of sweatpants and a big hoodie thrown at him before he could even pretend to argue against them.

“I’ll put some coffee on,” she said, gliding away, leaving him to drip quietly in her bedroom as he watched her back disappear down the hall.

“Decaf?” he called after her.

“Do you really want decaf?” she called right back.

She’d slipped from view, little clinks and clunks from the kitchen catching his ears. Peter shrugged the towel from his shoulders and started to peel his suit off. It’d become a second skin, literally and figuratively, clinging to every inch of him, making him shudder as the warmth of her apartment replaced the cold wrap of wet spandex.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind, bug— trying to be more health conscious this year,” Peter replied with a grin. In reality, he knew she’d be up all night and woefully exhausted the next day if she got her hands on some regular coffee, so he’d gladly take one for the team with decaf.

He stood at the foot of her bed in his boxers, looking down at the change of clothes she insisted upon him.

It was strange, the way Peter was utterly exposed like this, not even behind a closed door for a breath of privacy, but it didn’t bother him. The suit and the mask sat in a heap next to her radiator and it didn’t matter. He pulled the comfortable cotton up to his hips and slipped the hoodie over his head.

Soft, warm, foreign yet familiar all at once.

He heard her footsteps, heard them pause at the mouth of the hallway. The gut-drop feeling of meeting her gaze unobstructed, bare-faced and messy haired, wasn’t the same as it was the first time. Or the second, or third— she knew his face just as well as he knew hers at this point. Anxiety faded over time, replaced with a new, giddy sort of rush that started in his chest and spread over his body in waves.

She made him feel like a teenager again, and she didn’t even have to do anything. It was a little pathetic, maybe, how much he looked forward to these kinds of nights, but he’d ruminate about that later in the quiet of his bed.

Peter padded his way down the hall to her, moving through the space like he belonged there. He took in her small smile as she leaned back against the kitchen island. The smell of coffee hit him once the machine started to gurgle softly on the counter.

“Are you still cold? I can crank up the heat,” she offered as he drew closer. Her gaze fell on his mouth then— more specifically, the cut on his bottom lip. A little hiss escaped her as she reached up and brushed her thumb beside it.

He looked down at her with a slightly amused expression, watching her brows furrow down as she examined his face.

“No, it’s fine. I’m already walking around in your clothes, waiting on a cup of your coffee. I feel like a Tinder date that’s vastly overstayed his welcome, and I just got here,” Peter quipped, letting her turn his head by his jaw and study him some more. Her soft fingers caught his stubble but she didn’t seem to mind.

She arched a brow at him and eventually pulled her hand back. “I’ve never had a Tinder date crawl into my eighth-story window before.”

“I’m not really an expert on romance, but something tells me that’s a good thing.”

Her hum was low as she turned and gathered two mugs from the cupboard above her. “Tinder isn’t exactly the place to look for romance anyway, Spidey,” she sat them down with a clink.

Spidey.

He’d chosen to start with his face last summer. A bold choice, truly, but it felt like the safer option at the time. There was eight million people in New York— a couple thousand guys were bound to look just like him.

A face without a name was the tiniest breadcrumb he could drop to satiate that need, that desire to feel seen by her in some capacity without completely laying himself out there.

It was a dance he didn’t know the steps to. But she played along well, stumbling in the dark with him and letting him lead, however awkward and shaky.

Peter leaned against the counter and watched her pour two cups. “It’s not? I’m not really in the dating scene. Do people still meet out in the wild these days?”

And she gave him that little chuckle under her breath he liked. “You sound old,” she mused as she reached into her fridge. The pale light bathed her in a sweet, domestic sort of glow that one could only feel in sweatpants in the kitchen after midnight.

“Hey— I’m only twenty-six,” he countered, dipping his head despite the little grin growing on his face.

He watched her pause, just for a moment.

Another breadcrumb. A thread.

But she didn’t draw too much attention to it. Peter pictured her tucking it away for future reference.

“Well, to answer your question, yes. I guess people do still meet out in the wild,” she poured the creamer and scooped the sugar and reminded him that she knew so much about him without really knowing him, not yet, and he both loved and hated that, “but I’m probably not the best person to ask about all that. I think if a man randomly approached me in a bookstore or something, I’d probably assume he was some kind of weirdo.”

Peter hummed, his brow furrowed but his lips twitched into a lopsided grin. His fingers were cold when he gently accepted the drink from her.

“Alright, noted. What about guys that fall out of the sky and crash into your fire escape?”

He peered at her over the top of the mug as he took the longest, hottest drink of his life— anything to avoid the reality of what he just said for a few moments longer.

His throat burned, but it was fine.

The air felt heavier then, thick like the air outside as her gaze flicked over his face.

“That depends. Is he kind of awkward in a weirdly charismatic way?”

And Peter swallowed down the lava for a chance at a deeper breath without choking, “I mean— in this completely hypothetical and improbable scenario, yeah, I’d— I’d say so,” he replied.

The corners of her mouth curled up softly. “And did he come back a week later, trying to apologize with four different types of candy at ten o’clock at night?”

He cleared his throat to try and hide the chuckle that almost slipped out. “He didn’t know what kind you liked,” Peter said, that heat trickling up to his face for a different reason.

She blew on her coffee before sipping it, because she clearly had more sense than he did, and shrugged.

“Helping you out with a broken nose and a concussion makes for a more interesting story to look back on,” she replied softly.

This line they were toeing was a tightrope, strung high and taught and delicate.

Sometimes Peter wanted to take the leap. Just dive right onto the other side, tugging her along with him.

The clock on the stove read 12:37.

12:38.

“Do you think about it? The night we met?”

And she sat her mug down on the counter beside her. The sweater she wore was loose and comfortable on her frame as she crossed her arms. “Sometimes.”

“Just sometimes?”

“Do you?” she countered, tilting her head just a bit to the side as she gazed up at him.

Peter leaned back. His mug was empty, the roof of his mouth was a bit sore, but he swallowed regardless. “I do, sometimes.”

“Just sometimes?”

The rain outside picked up. It smacked against her windows with the whistle of wind just underneath it all.

“Sometimes, when I can’t sleep. I’m usually thinking about the last time I saw you, though. Much clearer picture there,” he said.

She rolled her eyes and looked off to the side, though her soft, slight smile cut the air of annoyance she tried to hold on to.

“Stop,” she mumbled, shaking her head, “that’s not fair.” He had a feeling he knew what she meant— and he had to agree, watching her avoid his gaze.

Peter reached a hand out to pull her arms out of their closed off, crossed position. Despite the tension in her shoulders, she was soft, pliable, letting him grasp her wrists and guide her forward gently into his torso.

He wrapped around her, his nose in her hair, committing the scent of her shampoo to memory.

“I know,” he mumbled back.

She was quiet, her cheek pressed against his chest in that borrowed hoodie she thought he looked criminally good in. After a few moments of his fingers lightly tracing shapes between her shoulder blades, she sucked in a breath. “That’s not fair, either, Spidey.” And she was right again.

He had a bad habit of trying to fix everything.

“Peter,” he said, his voice low against her roots, “it’s Peter.”

The wind shook the windows. She was nearly laying on him with how he held her, his long frame leaned back, arms circled around her shoulders. His breath came in calculated waves, but she could feel the rhythm changing the longer she stayed silent, along with his heartbeat under her ear.

A deep breath in, a deep breath out.

“Peter,” she tried it out, and it felt like hearing her voice for the first time.

His fingers splayed over her back and his palm smoothed up her spine. “Yes?” he mumbled back.

She had a bad habit of wearing her heart on her sleeve, at least around him.

“I think I might have a thing for guys who fall out of the sky and crash into my fire escape.”

Overindulgence, lack of self control— whatever it was, it didn’t matter, really. Peter smiled against her scalp. A low rumble of a chuckle vibrated through his chest. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head once, twice, and squeezed her against him.

She let out a little grunt in response, feeling too much like a squeaky toy to not laugh. “Pe—Peter—super strength, remember?”

“Right, yeah— my bad, bug,” he loosened his hold just enough for her to look up at him, her palms now flat on his chest between them. “But, y’know, you have some pretty weird tastes. I should’ve known when you picked the gummy bears over the Reese’s.”

12:52. He had one foot dangling on the other side of that line he spent far too long thinking about.

And she laughed that laugh and scrunched her nose up the way she did when she found something amusing, yet dumb. She did that a lot when he talked. He took it as a personal victory every time.

“You really don’t have any room to call me weird. You run around the city in spandex every night,” she mused, her lips curled into a smile.

“It makes me aerodynamic.”

“Yeah, you were real aerodynamic when you smacked your head on the rail—“

Peter was never really a planner. It made sense in the moment, to lean in and kiss her, his hands shifting to either side of her jaw. And it made sense the way she hummed into his mouth, either from surprise or the fact that she was very much in the middle of a sentence. But it was alright, because they stood there in the middle of her dark kitchen at 12:55 am, and her lips were soft, much softer than his.

He decided he could excuse every one of his bad habits, maybe write them off as quirks instead, because as he kissed her, he realized that every single one had led him right there; drinking decaf coffee in borrowed sweatpants, listening to the rain and her deepened breathing.

She pulled away just enough to speak, their lips still brushing against each other, “I wasn’t done—“

“Neither was I,” his tone was nothing but a playful tease, and he kissed her again, “how rude of you to interrupt me like that,” and again, “honestly, sometimes I can’t believe the lack of manners in this city.”

Her laugh was grounding when his head was busy floating. She smacked his chest lightly. “Lack of manners? Let’s start with you. You crawl in through my window soaking wet, drink my coffee in my clothes that I totally don’t keep around for you just in case, and kiss me without permission,” she gave him the grocery list and he nodded to each point over-attentively, humming along.

“Right, yeah— you forgot the part where I interrupted you.”

“And you interrupted m—“

Peter kissed her again.

#forgive me i’m rusty #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #p.parker #tasm #tasm!peter parker x reader

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sourrpatched · 2 months

Text

14. mark’s villain origin story (500 wrdc)

I’m here.

The message on your phone had read. You gave yourself a second to make sure everything looked fine. The worst thing that could happen was having a friend over only for them to see some random pile of laundry on the floor. Once you made sure everything was decent you made your way to the door.

As you opened it you eyed the man in front of you. He was dressed casually with a black t-shirt andsome semi ripped pants. And as weird as it probably seemed to smell someone, you couldn’t help but take notice of how he happened to have a clean yet expensive scent.

“Uh, Can I come in?”

You had snapped out of your own thoughts, moving to the side in order to let the man in. He had bags in both hands which you guessed made sense as to why he hadn’t knocked more than once.

“You can leave your shoes there and use the slippers on the side, those are usually what Chenle uses so they should be about your size.” He took off his shoes bags still in hand.

“Oh and let me help you with that.” You said before grabbing one of them out of his hands and taking it into your kitchen. Jaemin followed behind.

“What’s all of this?”

“Oh right, I thought since the movies are pretty long that I should bring some snacks and some take out. You like sushi right? I had Minjeong ask Jimin just in case but I just want to make sure.” He said all with a smile on his face.

Wow. If he’s this thoughtful for his friends he’d make a perfect future husband.

“I love sushi, thank you.” He looked relieved at that. “We’re going to watch the movies there in the living room so let’s bring everything over there.” He nodded and followed your lead into the living room.

“I’ll bring some drinks, do you want a soda or something?” You stood up as he started setting the food up. “Yeah that’s fine, thank you.” He smiled again.

Part of you went into the kitchen just to compose yourself, the other half was cause you did really need to get drinks.

It’s okay it won’t be awkward. We’re gonna watch the movies and hang out and have a great time. You hoped.

You made your way back to the living room. Thank god this man had brought food cause now that the nervousness was wearing away you realized just how hungry you actually felt.

“Thank you so much for the food and everything really all I had made was popcorn and that’s about it.”

“Really it’s no problem, it’s the least I could do after you invited me over in the first place.” Once again he had given you his signature smile.

“Still, thank you.” You had reached for the remote only to find that he had already put the movie on the TV. “You ready to cry?” You said teasingly before putting play.

“Cry? That’s not happening.” He said almost too confidently.

“Guess we’ll have to see.” You shrugged, before pressing play on the movie.

masterlist previous next

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Author’s note ➼ IM SO SORRY THIS IS A LATE CHAPTER CAUSE I SLEPT ALL DAY

taglist: @yyangj3lly @junviadinho @pnkified @mystverse @daegalfangirl @girlz4jaem @222brainrot @multifandomania @hamjwis @nanaxwi @haechansbbg @lampcults @urlocalbeaner5 @seunghancore @neoskzluvr @pastelzindecana

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kylelovskii · 5 months

Note

idk but now that kyle finally asked reader to be his gf, what if they were just hanging out and stuff so then kyle leaves to go do something but ends up coming back and sees reader masturbating and theyre just like a total hot mess on his bed waiting for him… just a thought bc im feeling pretty freaky atm LOL i need kyle hes such a meanie

-❤️ anon

been a while.. :3

i’ve missed writing about mean kyle, so let’s do this! 😈

the fuck do you think you’re doing?

“hey, baby, i’m gonna get some snacks for movie night, okay?” kyle told you, cupping your plush cheeks and kissing your forehead.

“okay..” you respond, closing your eyes as he plants his lips on your temple. you watched as he walked away. his white wife beater hugging him perfectly, and the way his basketball shorts hung perfectly around his waist. you’d been so desperate for him the entire day, but still so shy to even say anything. despite all the change, that old, shy, innocent (y/n) was still down there.

he shut the bedroom door behind him as he waltzed out. you knew he’d be gone for a bit. he usually likes to cook something up for the two of you on movie nights, then have extra snacks on the side. what to do with all this time?

who’s to say you couldn’t rub one out real quick? if he didn’t catch you, no harm no foul, right?

and with that last thought, you sunk more into his bed, reaching your hand down your baggy pajama pants. you pushed one finger between your folds, already so slick from just the mere sight of kyle a few moments prior. you massage the bundle of nerves between the pudge of your pussy, then push your middle finger into your hole.

you sigh at the relief you’ve been craving for the past 4 hours. sure, it wasn’t as good as kyle’s fingers, but it got the job done.

you add another finger, speeding up to make this process go faster so kyle wouldn’t catch you. kyle’s rule was, and i quote: “if i ever catch your fucking your self without my permission, you’ll be in a world of hurt, you get me?”

and you did get him, you just didn’t want to burden him when he probably didn’t feel like it. besides, it’s movie night, and why would you ruin that?

you were on the edge, so caught up in the release you were about to get, that you didn’t hear the bedroom door swing open. so caught up in how good you felt that you didn’t hear him yelling at you.

“hey! what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

you yelped, scrambling up against the headboard, staring at kyle, horrified.

“who said you could do that, huh?” he spat, slowly walking over to you, his fists clenched.

“wait— i’m sorry! i didn’t want to bother you, and—” you were cut off by the painful sting in your scalp when he grabbed your hair, pulling your face up to his. “don’t be fucking stupid. get up, strip.”

you were quite terrified to say the least, so you quickly got up and stepped back away from your fuming boyfriend. you took off your t-shirt, then your pajama pants. you stood there, half naked, staring at him.

“why are you looking at me like you can’t understand english? i said strip.”

oh. he wanted you naked naked. okay. you brought the straps of your bra down, your perky tits bouncing out. you then pulled the pink cotton panties off your waist and kicked them to the side.

“you wanna get fucked so bad? then you’ll get fucked. lay down,” he ordered, pointing to the bed. you whined and climbed on the bed, laying down, vulnerable for him.

he tugged off his shirt, then took off his silky basketball shorts and threw them in a laundry basket along with his boxers.

“i think you’ve had enough prep, yeah? being greedy all alone in here, not even bothering to ask me. you know the rules, don’t cha?” he asked, smooshing your face together with one hand, stroking his cock with the other. “answer me, bitch.”

“yes! yes i remember! i’m sorry, ky— please!” then you felt a sharp pain against your face. “i don’t care if you’re sorry. you broke a rule, and now you’ll get punished. nothing has changed,” he forcefully explained before shoving his dick inside you. you cried out which turned into a long whine.

“aw, yeah? see? your fucking fingers can’t do this, only i can.” he reached his hand up and held your neck tightly, but not tight enough to stop your breathing. he pounded into you, harder and faster with each thrust.

“hah— ky! i’m gonna— you’re—” you tried to speak, but he was fucking you so good you couldn’t even form a sentence. “no you’re not. not until i do. you don’t deserve it.”

he slid his hand up, prying your mouth open more with his thumb, and with that a small fetching noise came from his throat before he spit in your mouth. “swallow,” he demanded, and you did.

each time his cock went back inside your cunt, it only pushed you more to the edge. you didn’t know how much longer you could hold out, but then you heard a high pitched groan come out of kyle’s mouth and then a warm sensation shoot inside you. that did it for you and you hit your high, legs shaking, locking them around kyle’s waist to make them stop.

but he kept going.

“stop! stopstopstop! kyle— please, wait—” he covered your mouth with his hand to shut you up, which didn’t really work, but you stopped talking at least. “what’s wrong? can’t take it? this is what you’ve been so desperate for, right? so you will take it. shut up and take it.”

orgasm after orgasm, kyle finally let up and pulled out, but he hadn’t cum yet. he inched up near your face, took off his glasses, and shoved them on your face. lean leaned his head back, stroking his cock until he came all over your face, recreating the scene that happened at cartman’s house many moons ago.

he let out a guttural moan as he did so, sighing when he finally came down from his high.

“go..go clean up,” he slurred, flopping down next to you as you looked at him confused. “you’re not gonna help?”

“no. you’ve been a bad girl. besides, i cooked. that’s enough of caring for one night. and clean my glasses too!” he shouted after you as you walked into the bathroom connected to his room.

kyle always took care of you, but bad girls know how to take care of themselves, right?

#x reader #south park #south park x reader #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski x reader smut #mean!kyle broflovski #bully!kyle broflovski #degredation kink #eric cartman x reader #eric cartman #fanfic #south park smut #smut

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the-cannibal · 2 years

Text

Slashers with a s/o who has weird cravings for inedible things

Have you ever looked at tide pods, erasers, basically anything with a big DO NOT EAT CONTACT POISON CONTROL IF INGESTED sticker on them? Me too! So here’s a funny little thing for that!

Ps: please don’t actually eat any of the things in this- there are alternative things that you can actually eat that are similar to these things!

Gender neutral reader - they/them and you is used

Slashers included: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Jason Vorehees, Michael Myers, Brahms Heelshire, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher

Vincent Sinclair:

“Vinny Vinny Vinny!”

“???”

“Can I eat some of that wax?” You pointed off to the scraps on the table by the art piece he was currently working on.

“?!?!?!” Cue frantic signing - ‘Y/n no- you can’t eat that, it will make you sick! Why would you even want to in the first place?’

You shrugged. “I dunno. It just looks warm and tasty!”

Vincent will now make sure to keep an eye on you anytime you are around wax.

But one day your curiosity won, and he caught you mid lick on one of his sculptures.

Yeah he was all mother hen on you for a while.

Bo Sinclair:

Bo was in his garage (surprise surprise) working on a car. You decided to tag along.

“Hey Bo, can I drink some of that?”

“Sure darlin.” Bo had said without looking up. He has just assumed you were talking about the glass of ice tea he has sitting next to him.

It wasn’t until her heard you spitting up something into the dirt that he actually looked up and saw the bottle of oil in your hand…

“Y/n what the fuck?!” He shouted at you. He was angry sure but he was mostly concerned and didn’t want you to fucking poison yourself, so he stuck two fingers down your throat and forced you to puke.

“Why would you do that?!”

“It looked like root beer!” You shouted between coughs.

“God you’re almost as bad as Lester…”

Jason Vorhees:

Oh if you think this man will even let you get anything inedible anywhere near your mouth you are wrong.

Jason has had to swat out jelly erasers out of your hand while you were working on a drawing because the fake pink strawberry inside it was just too tempting for you. You now only get to use boring white erasers… which you were banned from for a while when you thought they looked like marshmallows.

“Hey Jason, what do you think tidepods taste like?” You are no longer aloud to do laundry by yourself.

But he would help make snacks for you that have said texture of whatever thing you want. Wanna eat sand? Here’s some granola he’s made and crushed up to look and feel like it!

Michael Myers:

You’ve probably eaten a lot of stuff you shouldn’t have- dude isn’t the most observant at first.

But the second he does catch you, he’s watching you like a hawk.

He about yelled at you when he saw you munching on one of his (thankfully clean) jump suits. But he didn’t and instead took it away from you, lightly tapping you on your nose, scolding you like you were a teething puppy.

Actually that is what he saw you as when you’d do this-

He isn’t a cooker or a baker but if he finds anything edible that he thinks would satisfy your cravings then he will take it.

Brahms Heelshire

“New rule! Y/n is not aloud to eat anything without Brahms’ permission!”

“Brahms I don’t think that’s gonna work-“

“THEN STOP TRYING TO EAT THE PIANO KEYS!”

What? The Heelshire’s have a lot of old stuff! A lot of old tasty looking stuff… like the piano and Brahms’ records.

Brahms sometimes feels like a nanny for you when it comes to food. He now sits on the counter and watches you like a bird hunting it’s prey to make sure you aren’t sneaking anything in your mouth you shouldn’t. Don’t worry Brahms! They’d never do that!… would you..?

Billy and Stu:

Stu does the same thing as you.

Billy feels like he needs to keep you both on those little backpacks with those leashes that keep kids from running into traffic.

He has put you two in them before… he calls it ‘dumb snacking jail’

You make a comment about how Billy would know all about being in a jail.

That earned you more time in dumb snacking jail-

“They aren’t hurting anyone!” Stu shouted

“Stu they are trying to eat rocks…”

“It’s not hurting anyone!”

“ITS HURTING THEM-?!”

#bo sinclair #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #house of wax x reader #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #michael myers #vincent sinclair x reader #billyloomis #stu macher x reader #stumacher #jason vorhees x reader #michael myers x reader #brahms x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire #billy loomis x reader

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werepuppy-steve · 8 months

Text

steddie | G | wc: 583 | appalachian eddie

a little something for @starrystevie bc it's a crying shame that snow ice cream/snow cream is largely an appalachian thing only

"goddamn it."

eddie pokes his head out from the laundry room. "what's the matter?"

steve runs his hand through his hair and sighs. "there's at least a foot of snow out there," he says, walking down the hall toward him. "cars are covered, i'm gonna have to dig 'em out."

eddie crosses his arms over his chest as he leans against the door frame and watches steve pull his boots and coat from the hall closet. "you fixin' to go somewhere? be by yourself if you do, 'cause i ain't goin' out in that."

"no," steve rolls his eyes. "but it's just in case we have to. probably gonna have to shovel the driveway, too." he hops onto the dryer to pull his boots on and lace them up.

eddie goes down to the kitchen and comes back with one of their big blue plastic mixing bowls. "at least scrape the snow into this, will ya?"

steve frowns. "what's this for?"

"you'll see," eddie says with a grin, giving steve a peck on the lips and going back down the hall.

half an hour later, eddie hears steve on the porch stomping the snow off his boots. when he comes into the house, eddie makes a sympathetic noise at how red his boyfriend's face is and gently takes steve's cheeks in his hands, squishing and rubbing them to get them warmed back up.

"baby," steve says, his words muffled by eddie's ministrations. "baby, please, i can't feel my face."

eddie squishes steve's lips out and kisses him with an exaggerated mwah! "did you get my snow?"

steve holds out the bowl that's plum full of the powdery white goodness. "you gonna tell me what it's for? what's your little gremlin brain cooked up this time?" there's no trace of annoyance or malice in his tone, just unbridled fondness and affection.

"i'm 'bout to learn ya a thing, stevie," eddie says as he opens up cabinets and pulls out the small group of ingredients he needs. "been doin' this since i was a kid."

he lines everything up on the counter and presents it with a flourish. vanilla, sugar, and a small can of evaporated milk.

"we're gonna make snow ice cream."

"snow ice cream?"

eddie puts a tablespoon of vanilla in the bowl of snow and mixes it together with the sugar and milk until the snow is more of a beige liquid. "uh-huh. mamaw used to make it every year we got a good snow. she'd send me out to get it off the propane tank, because you never wanna get your snow from the ground. you want the stuff on the top that ain't been touched."

he gives it one more stir and pops the bowl into the freezer. "give it a couple hours to freeze back up and we've got sweet, creamy goodness."

steve watches all this happen from where he's stood leaning against the counter. "your way of growing up was so different than mine," he says. "i wish i had all these cool memories like you."

eddie steps up to him and wraps his arms around steve's waist. "i do have some pretty cool know-how's," he says, "but it wasn't always like that. it was pretty rough for us, too." he draws steve in for another kiss, softer and longer, and pats his cheek. "give me time, though, and it'll be like you were raised by mamaw herself, too."

steve smiles, all gooey and dopey. "i can't wait."

#cj talks #cj writes #appalachian eddie #steddie fic #steddie #steddie ficlet

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mykoreanlove · 9 months

Text

Just another day at the dorms - Jisung version

„I can’t believe I’ve lost this stupid bet. I’m gonna kick your ass, Seungmin. Just you wait!“

Furiously, you entered the laundry room with big bags full of stinky shirts, pants and who knows what from the boys. Once again you’ve lost another bet against puppy boy and now you’re doomed as stray kids‘ laundry maid. You emptied the bin and sorted out the various colors as your eyes noticed a very bright and very pink thong, covered in crystals just like a pussy should be immersed in.

„Wait, isn‘t that mine?“

You observed it thoroughly, it definitely did resemble the sexy lingerie you owned. But then again how did it end up in the boys‘ dirty laundry?

You shook your head and dismissed the thought. „Some of them must have shagged a girl with taste for once. Probably Innie, dude‘s been toasted for a while now.“

Days later you were alone at the dorms, relaxing and watching a new drama. Ease and calmness spread through your system as you forgot about schedules, trainings and interviews for once.

„Yah, is that Song Kang? Move y/n, I wanna watch it with you!“

Jisung entered enthusiastically, eager to spend some time with you - and Kang. You always had a special place for him in your heart as Ji was someone you could trust easily. He regularly opened up to you, so naturally you reciprocated the energy. „Come here“, you patted the seat next to you. For hours you watched, talked and laughed until your attention span grew thin.

„Ji, I’m bored“, you whined. „Let’s do something.“

He looked at you expectantly. „Do what?“

You batted your eyelashes at him before attacking him with your fingers. „Something like this“, you said as you tickled him relentlessly.

„Oh my god, stop! Y/N stop“, Ji cried out loud. You caught a quick glimpse of his underwear as he held his arms over his head as a shield. Abruptly, you stopped and walked over to your room, raiding your closet in panic.

„Where is it? Where the fuck is it?“, you cursed, unable to find your bright, pink thong that was covered in crystals.

„Hey, is everything alright?“ Jisung stood at your door, concern on his face.

You walked up to him, sliding his sweater up, revealing the straps of your thong.

„Are you“, you cleared your throat, „are you wearing my thong, Ji?“

You noticed the glimpse of shame in his eyes, but he still chose to be truthful about it.

„I can explain.“

You grabbed his hand and pulled him into your room, shutting the door behind him.

„I’m listening.“

He took a deep breath and began his explanation. „One time, when I lost a bet against Seungmin, I had to do our laundry and somehow your stuff got mixed with ours. I… I found your thong and I couldn’t help it. It just looked so flashy and bright and I imagined what it would feel like to wear it so I stole it from you. I’m sorry, y/n. But I was right, it feels so good on my skin and it makes me feel confident. Sexy even, given the fact that this is forbidden.“

Jisung intrigued you, very much so.

„Show me“, you commanded.

„What?“ Big eyes full of confusion faced you.

„I want to see. Show me.“

Hesitantly, he slid down his pants and showed you your underwear.

The bright color matched perfectly with his white skin. The crystals on his bulge popped even more, now that he was aroused. You walked over to him and turned him around, gazing at his sweet tush in your lingerie.

You hugged him from behind, as you whispered in his ear, hot and heavy. „I kinda like it, Ji. Makes me want to fuck you like a sweet little sub.“

Your hands found his bulge and started kneading, his dick was twitching in your palms immediately. Jisung let out a high squeak.

„Hmm, do you like that?“

He shook his head in agreement.

„Do you want more?“

His whole body vibrated from nodding his head yes. You pushed him on the chair and sat on him, facing him fully.

Your lips slandered his neck as you ground your hips heavily on his hard cock. „Fuck, y/n“, Ji moaned. Instead of replying you stripped him off everything but your thong.

„I like seeing you like that. Such a good boy for me“, you kissed him. Forcefully, you pulled his hair back which made him hiss in even more arousel.

„You wanted me to find out, didn’t you?“

Jisung nodded.

„You wanted me to see you in this, didn’t you?“

He bit his lip and nodded once again.

„You want me to fuck you in nothing but my thong, don’t you?“

His head nodded faster, his desperation growing by the second. You pushed your thong to the side, freeing his aching cock from the fabric. Jisung‘s eyes lit up, unable to comprehend his luck right now. You lifted your hips before sliding down slowly, taking him all in. Jisung was well endowed, his cock thick and eager to please. You felt your pussy twitching around him, he was begging you to ride him. „Use me, y/n. Punish me for stealing your thong. Please.“

You started bouncing on him, bringing both of you close to orgasm within seconds. „I’m close“, he panted. „Let me come inside you y/n, I am begging you.“

You got off of him and pulled your thong back on him, making him come all in your lingerie. It was a mess - sticky fluids covered everything but you didn’t care. Seeing him like that was such a turn on. You rubbed the fabric on the tip of his cock, covering it with cum all over.

Jisung‘s pupils were dilated, not only from his high but also from shock. “Why did you do that? It’s ruined now.“

You laughed and stripped it off him. Jisung watched you put on your thong that was covered in his jizz. He licked his lips, he watched you like a predator watched his prey.

„Don’t worry, Ji. I like them like that.“

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chelseachilly · 6 months

Text

my priority

pairing: ben chilwell x reader warnings: none, just sickening fluff and reader taking care of ben while he's ill 🥹❤️‍🩹 word count: 1.6k

a/n: just a bit of fluff i wrote earlier this week when it was gross and rainy out here and i saw ben was out with a cold, wasn't gonna post it as i'm not sure i like it but felt like we could all use some cheering up after today's game 😔 hope ben is feeling better and back for everton!!

It’s a gloomy, dreary day - not uncommon for this time of year in London, but still doing little to lift your spirits as you get through the workday.

It’s bad enough that you have to get through a day of back-to-back meetings with hardly a moment to catch your breath, but you’re also counting down the seconds until you can leave and get home to your sick boyfriend.

It absolutely broke your heart leaving Ben this morning, on his third day of a terrible cold that’s completely taken him out of action. You made sure he took some medicine and had a bit to eat before you left, but you would’ve given anything to stay by his side. You managed to work from home and take care of him the past two days, but you knew that today it would be impossible with the in-person meetings you had to attend.

Although there’s still work to be done, you pack up your things and leave the moment the meetings are over, resigning yourself to the fact that you’ll have to do some more work tonight.

Aside from a quick stop to pick up Ben’s favourite chicken soup and some more cold medicine, you head straight home. You’re dripping with rain from the brief walk from the car to the front door, and you quickly take off your shoes and coat before heading into the kitchen to drop the supplies you picked up.

Before you go upstairs to get changed, you follow the sound of the TV quietly playing and poke your head in the living room. You breathe a small sigh of relief when you see Ben laying on the couch, his soft snores drowned out by the post-match commentary of the football game he fell asleep watching.

It takes everything in you to tear yourself away and go get out of your wet clothes, knowing it won’t do either of you any good if you join him on the couch in this state. You quickly run upstairs and take off all of your clothing, tossing it into the laundry bin before changing into some comfy pyjama pants and one of Ben’s softest t-shirts.

When you’re done, you make your way back down to the TV room and crouch in front of your sleeping boyfriend. He looks so peaceful that you almost don’t want to wake him, but you know he’s probably overdue to take some more medicine.

You gently card your fingers through his hair to wake him, smiling as his eyes flutter open and you’re greeted with the beautiful blue eyes that first captured your heart years ago. From the moment you met his piercing gaze, you knew you were in trouble, and the charming smile that followed sealed your fate.

Ben mumbles your name as he slowly rouses from his sleep, blinking as he takes in his surroundings.

“Hi, baby,” you say softly, continuing to stroke his hair the way he likes as he shuts his eyes in contentment. “How are you feeling? Any better than this morning?”

“Maybe a little better,” he says, his voice a bit hoarse. “I slept most of the day.”

“That’s good,” you murmur, cupping his face and brushing your thumb over the stubble that has appeared after a few days without him shaving. “Did you manage to eat anything else?”

“Mhm, I finished up the last of that chicken soup.”

“Good boy,” you smile, glad that he’s taken care of himself in your absence. “I got some more on my way home. Want me to go heat it up for you? You need to take more meds too.”

Ben nods, smiling sleepily as he leans into your hand and nuzzles his cheek against your palm.

“You’re the best,” he says. “After I eat can we cuddle and watch something together?”

Although you really should get some more work done tonight, you’re completely powerless against him when he’s so adorable and feeling so poorly.

“Of course, my love,” you say, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead before reluctantly pulling away from him so you can go prepare dinner. “I’ll be right back.”

Ben groans slightly at the loss of contact, and your heart aches even though you’re just going to the next room and you’ll be back within minutes.

He’s been particularly clingy since he got back from the England camp. He was all over you from the moment he got home, demanding lots kisses to make up for all the days you were apart - which you were more than happy to give. He continued to be a bit more cuddly than normal over the first few days he was home, mostly because his knee was hurting after the knock he picked up against Belgium and he was obviously worried that it might be something serious.

As always, you sprung into nurse duty and made sure he got plenty of rest, and plenty of “healing cuddles” as he once called them in a drug-induced state after his knee surgery a couple years ago. You never let him live that name down, but you’ve also never failed to provide them when he’s injured or sick.

Now that he’s ill, the clinginess has been dialled up to a ten, which made it even more difficult to leave him alone all day.

You quickly heat up the soup for both of you and grab some fruit and other snacks for yourself, and for Ben if he’s feeling up to something else. You load everything onto a tray and bring it out to the living room, setting it down on the coffee table.

Ben forces himself into a seated position to eat, and you gently rub his upper back as he starts coughing. Once he’s recovered from the sudden coughing fit, you carefully help situate him with the warm bowl of soup atop a pillow on his lap. You also pass him a pill and a glass of water to wash it down.

“Thanks, babe,” Ben says with a small smile.

You both finish your dinner fairly quickly, and you’re glad that his appetite seems to be slowly returning. After you clean up the dishes, you return to the couch and settle into Ben’s side with well-practiced ease.

No matter how much stress you’re under at work or how many worries are plaguing your mind, there’s truly nothing that quiets the world like curling up in the arms of your boyfriend.

Tonight, when Ben is feeling so rotten and in need of comfort, he isn’t content with your usual cuddle position while watching TV, he wants to be as close to you as physically possible.

He gently nudges you so you lay down fully on your back. Knowing what he wants without any explanation, you open your arms so he can crawl into your embrace. He rests his head on your chest, his arm snaking around your waist and your legs tangling together.

He breathes out a sigh of contentment as you begin to stroke his hair again, lightly scratching his scalp with your fingers the way he likes. You’re grateful that he gave up on insisting you stay away to avoid getting sick within the first day of his illness, as you would hate to be sleeping in a separate room or sitting on opposite ends of the couch when he needs you the most. It seems to have been worth the risk, as you’re sure you would be showing some symptoms by now if you were going to catch it.

“Missed you today,” Ben murmurs, slipping his hand under your shirt to feel the soft skin of your lower back in the most innocent way possible, just wanting to feel you.

“I missed you too,” you say with a kiss to his forehead. “I’m sorry I had to go in today.”

“It’s okay, baby, not your fault that you’re so important and the company wouldn’t last a day without you,” he says, making you roll your eyes affectionately.

He’s always singing your praises, talking about how smart and successful you are to anyone who will listen. Your work isn’t nearly as exciting as his, but for every time you brag to your friends and family about a goal he scored or an international call-up, he’s just as quick to tell them about your latest promotion or a conference you spoke at.

“You’re my priority, though,” you remind him. “And I’m working from home for the rest of the week. My boss already approved it.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Ben says, though he kisses your neck in gratitude.

“I want to, I hated leaving you today,” you say, continuing to press kisses to his hair and any part of his face you can reach. “I’ll be here until you’re all better.”

Ben smiles against your skin. “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much too, Benji,” you say, squeezing him close to you.

You put on an episode of an old sitcom you both love and have seen a hundred times, knowing Ben will fall asleep shortly after the medication you gave him.

It’s not long before you can feel his breaths even out and you glance down to see your boyfriend fast asleep on top of you. You know that you should try to extricate yourself from his embrace and go do a bit of work, but the way he whines slightly and holds you tighter in his sleep when you try to do so makes you change your mind.

Your inbox can wait until the morning - for now, you just settle further into the couch and focus on the show you’re watching and the feeling of holding Ben in your arms. There’s nothing more important than this.

a/n: i hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment and let me know what you thought 🥰

#ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x y/n #chelsea fc imagine #my fics

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halfdeadfullgay · 9 months

Text

404 - Title Not Found(part/chapter 2)

Part 1 - Tumblr Part 3 - Tumblr

Ao3

Summary: Danny needs to do laundry and agrees to go to a gala.

Jason is forced to go to a gala and needs to do laundry.

He forgets quarters and Danny forgets laundry detergent.

AN: Reminder that half of this shit is just crack treated seriously. I’m playing fast and loose with Danny Phantom cannon and DC cannon. If stuff isn’t cannon or if stuff is out of character, don’t question it. I just want to write my silly little fanfic.

——————————

Danny had fucked up. Even just meeting the walking dead he was meant to watch could cause trouble. At least that’s what ClockWork warned him of. It was probably just meant to lessen chances of anything bad happening, mainly the GIW appearing.

He decided to take a break from watching the Red Hood. He needed to focus on Danny anyways. He had spent the last few months focusing on Phantom and Ghost King Phantom. So when Vlad had offered to take him to a gala held by the Waynes, he immediately said yes.

Sure Vlad was still a bit of a fruitloop but he had stopped trying to basically murder his dad and lessened his advances on his mom as well. He had gone to a few galas before as both the Ghost King and Danny. He already a nice simple tux, he just needed to wash it since the last gala he was at had a ghost crashing it.

He didn’t mind galas as the Ghost King but loved them as Danny. He was able to mess with guests and Vlad with little to no suspicion that he was the cause.

Danny was gonna take the week to focus on himself and catch up on stuff that he wanted to do, not needed to. He sighed as he grabbed his tux and other clothes in a basket that needed to be cleaned. He double checked that he had his phone, keys, and bag of quarters before leaving his apartment and heading down to the crappy laundry room.

Jason still couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity with the guy from last night. It didn’t feel like that it was just by chance that he lived in the same building as one of his many places that he stays at. He had many safe houses, mainly out of Crime Alley to avoid Batman and rouges but he still felt connected to the place.

Speaking of rouges, the past few nights on patrol; he didn’t have the feeling of someone following him. He had realized it when watching some petty criminals since it was a quiet night. He didn’t like the sudden lack of not being follow, while it was good to know he wasn’t being followed; there had to be a reason for the sudden stop.

Outside of patrol, he noticed that the guy that gave him a sense of familiarity was on the same floor as him. He still didn’t know why there was that sense of familiarity, he didn’t know why he felt drawn to him. Jason pushed it to the side, just for now since he didn’t have a legitimate reason to start digging into it yet.

Jason sighed as he gathered up the clothes that were thrown around the apartment. He had been staying at that specific safe house for awhile, too tired from patrol to go to one of the farther ones. He had to do laundry and clean his nice somewhat formal clothes. Out of all the Wayne kids, he had drawn the short end of the stick when Bruce asked who would be going to the gala. Dick had brought up the issue that he was legally dead at one point and how that could cause issues but Alfred had apparently figured out a way to just make it seem like his death was exaggerated or something. Jason didn’t care to ask him how exactly he did that, it was fine for now.

He hated galas, even from what he remembered from when he was younger; he had always disliked them. He grumbled under his breath about how it was stupid as he walked out of his apartment with his laundry basket and laundry detergent. He knew that the washers the apartment complex provided were shitty but he didn’t feel like going to a laundromat or anything.

Jason entered the laundry room, it always had a wet clothes and laundry detergent smell. The lights flickered and it was cold. There were a few other people. He found an empty washer and loaded up his clothes. When he went to grab the quarters out of his pocket, damnit; he left them in his apartment. It was a minor inconvenience, still annoying.

“Fuck.”

Danny sighed, he realized that he forgot to buy laundry detergent. He was deciding between just doing laundry later or ask someone if he could use some of theirs. As he was weighing pros and cons, he heard cursing that broke the quiet. He looked up to see the guy using the washer across of him, cursing under his breath. He felt like he had seen him before.

Ever since staying in Gotham, he felt that a lot. It was because of how many liminal and dead walked the streets of Gotham. He just brushed it off usually but it felt different with this guy. Danny, one who never knew when to just stay quiet, saw an excuse to talk when he heard the guy grumbled about not having any quarters. The worst that could happen would be being yelled to mind his business.

He must’ve spaced out looking at him because now the guy was staring back at him. “Uh, I got some quarters if you need any.” Danny gave a small smile while holding out his bag of quarters. The guy seemed to think about it for second, Danny thought it looked he was questioning if he was trustworthy. He couldn’t blame him, it was Crime Alley after all. After a moment of silence, the guy spoke up.

It was a simple thanks as he took the amount he needed. “Do you need detergent or something?” Huh, maybe he had good luck for once, Danny thought before quickly replying. “I actually do need detergent.”

#cross posted on ao3 #fanfic #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #ghost king danny #dead on main #jason todd #red hood #crack fic #crack treated seriously #404 - Title Not Found

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robthegoodfellow · 1 year

Text

Let's Hear It for the Boy

Praise Kink for Day 3 of @harringrovekinktober

(roommates, kink experimentation, billy is a good boy, nsfw)

Steve felt like a real asshole when Robin asked out of the blue one day, maybe a month after he and Billy became roommates, if Billy was paying part of his rent in labor. Shave some off if he agreed to be your housekeeper? And, at Steve’s incredulous bafflement, had clarified: Every time I’m over he’s cooking or doing laundry or—cleaning shit! To his horror, a highlight reel started up in his mind, a montage of Billy doing all those chores and more, and worse, Steve realized he’d contributed approximately nothing to the daily maintenance of their shared living space. Steve! Robin had scolded, correctly interpreting his guilty grimace.

So he’d promised to talk to Billy about it—assure him that keeping the place sparkling was in no way required or expected or—or if that was just how he preferred to live, then he’d promise to do his fair share from now on. Only, bringing it up over pizza and beer, a basketball game on TV, had produced an unexpected reaction. Billy… kinda… froze? Went bug-eyed, like Steve had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. He looked embarrassed.

“Man, it’s fine,” Steve said, tripping over himself to explain—put him at ease. “I really don’t care either way. I just wanted to check and make sure you knew I wasn’t gonna, like—kick you out if you let up on the Cinderella routine.”

Billy flushed more, beet red, and Steve resisted smacking himself in the face. He was fucking this up so bad.

“I mean—”

“I don’t mind,” Billy mumbled, avoiding Steve’s eye as he reached for his beer. “I like it.”

“Okay,” Steve said, over the top encouraging. “Great. Well, I’ll at least pitch in more—”

“You don’t have to do that.” Billy’s throat worked, gulping, plush lips pursed on the can. Steve blinked, shook his head, tuned back in to catch the muttered aside, blue gaze locked on the Michelob commercial. “It’s all good. Nothing has to change.”

Why the hell was he being so weird about this? Did he think Steve couldn’t chip in? Pull his own weight?

“Just because I grew up with a nanny doesn’t mean I don’t know how to do stuff. Vacuum and dishes and—”

Billy grunted, annoyed, throwing his shoulders back to wedge himself into the couch, a mulish slouch. “Just drop it, will ya? I like things how they are, so what’s the fucking problem?”

“All right, jeez,” Steve cried, holding up his hands. “Touchy.”

They were quiet, both ticked, but the kind that would drain away by halftime. Except—he felt shitty just leaving it like this, having semi-acknowledged that Billy was acting like his maid.

“Is there anything I can do?” Steve asked, his tone deliberately mild, not looking away from the freethrow swishing on screen. “That you don’t like?”

No explosion—good sign. After a long, loaded pause, Billy sighed. “Take out the trash.”

“Got it,” Steve said. And let it go.

But from then on, he kept watch, determined to figure out the source of the weirdness. Almost positive it wasn’t a control freak thing or a neat freak thing—it wasn’t like the apartment was pristine. It was more that… everyday, Billy had done something obvious enough that Steve commented on it—always had. Nothing major, just Oh, hey—you got that stain out of the carpet or Holy shit, it smells so good—what is that? or How’d you unclog that drain? Wasn’t like he thanked Billy, though he probably should have been—although maybe Billy didn’t want him to make a big deal out of it?—but he’d always notice and say something admiring because Billy was good at stuff. Good at so much stuff.

He started taking out the trash, and Billy never let on that he noticed, but Steve thought he did. And he kept up the compliments whenever Billy did something nice, since that hadn’t been explicitly forbidden. But since he was paying more attention now, he—noticed some things. Only when he was pretending to look elsewhere, monitoring Billy in his periphery or in the reflection of the window or decorative mirrors his mom had foisted on him. He noticed that, those times, Billy sort of… ducked his head, hiding a grin that bordered on… bashful? And his shoulders bowed a bit, like he was—curling in on himself. Like—in delight?

Like—he secretly really liked it? When Steve noticed he’d done something nice? When Steve said something nice about it?

So… he decided to test it. Nothing too overbearing or obvious, just—instead of merely noticing, he was sure to compliment. Because why not, if Billy liked it and still wouldn’t let Steve lift a finger except on garbage day?

Good became his go-to. This tastes so good. That looks so good. Good, good, good.

Which is when it clicked for him—that Billy didn’t do chores and stuff because he liked the chores. But because… he liked Steve’s reaction?

And—that would explain his weirdness. Why he didn’t want to talk about it. Like maybe he was worried Steve would think Billy liked being his bitch or something—Steve winced, anticipating the whack from the Robin who lived in his head—not that Steve thought of him that way.

…Though if he didn’t mind Steve thinking of him that way—or even liked it, then…

Well, Steve didn’t—dislike that. Like the general concept. Held a certain—

Anyway, in the interest of further—ah, testing, Steve mentioned, casually, on his way to work one morning, “I’ve been craving that pasta salad you made.”

Billy cut him a glance over his coffee where he was hunched at the kitchen table. Grunted, and Steve quirked a grin, tossed him a salute goodbye. It wasn’t even a lie—the pasta thing—he’d been salivating at the memory. This version with Italian dressing instead of mayo, with olives and stuff.

Lo, late that afternoon, when he got back, there was a big Tupperware of it in the fridge. Billy wandered in halfway through his second helping. They paused, wide-eyed at the sudden charge buzzing in the air, and Steve’s stomach clenched.

“It’s—good,” he managed, hands suddenly clammy around his fork and bowl. Billy was staring at Steve’s hands, held awkwardly aloft where he leaned on the counter. The stare was strangely heavy—hooded lids. Steve cleared his throat. “You—did good.”

Billy’s cheeks were as flushed as that day on the couch, watching basketball, insisting he liked—

Abruptly aware his boner was starting to tent his shorts, Steve turned to face the counter, ducking to shovel more pasta in his idiot mouth. Heard Billy go to the cabinet, fetch a glass. Fill it. Walk back out.

Heaving an unwinding breath, Steve set down the bowl, let his elbows bear the weight of this latest sexual awakening.

So that was a thing, apparently—and for Billy, too, potentially. Probably. Because, without quite meaning to, they fell into this little routine where, before Steve left for work, he’d pause, and Billy would look up from his coffee, and Steve would mention something—a rental movie he wanted to see, or a sale at the liquor store, or if Billy would mind throwing Steve’s whites in with his so he’d have a shirt to wear to this meeting later in the week…

And the VHS would be waiting on the counter. And a six-pack would be waiting in the fridge. And his shirt would be washed and ironed and waiting in his closet. And everytime Billy would be lingering nearby, not quite meeting his eyes, and Steve’s pulse would pound even though technically there was nothing sexy about an ironed shirt, and Steve would say Good. You did good.

Billy would sometimes clench his fist, when Steve said it. Or squirm in his seat a bit. Or swallow, throat bobbing. Color rising. And the sight hit Steve like a load of bricks. A load of bricks to the head.

It was the weirdest game of gay chicken—scrambling to find mundane tasks for Billy to complete for the prize of a pat on the back, when all Steve wanted, and he bet Billy felt similarly, was to order Billy to his knees.

He thought about it whenever they were on the couch watching TV, whenever they were eating in the kitchen or drinking on the balcony or passing each other outside the bathroom in the morning.

So he tested further. Came home and went to see if Billy had done it—and there he was, standing by Steve’s bed. The neatly made bed.

Steve’s heart was rabbiting out of his chest, too on the fritz to form words, and his feet weren’t much better, charting a crooked, clumsy course until they were toe to toe, Billy’s gaze downcast, his lips parted, breaths shallow.

He didn’t know whether it’d sound stupid if he said it out loud, what he’d been wanting to say for days—whether Billy wanted to hear, or would consider it a step too far.

They’d come this far, though. Steve wet his lips, took a calming breath, and Billy seemed to brace for it. “Good,” Steve said, and it came out breathy. “Good boy.”

Billy curled—did that thing where he ducked, hunching around something invisible—and the sound punched out of him, this pained gasp. Steve’s hands moved on their own, reaching to cradle Billy’s head, step close to whisper in his ear, his brow at Steve’s shoulder: “Good? Is this good?” Felt more than saw him nodding. “You want to be good for me?”

“Fuck,” Billy whispered—bit wheezing. Wet. “Fuck.”

“What do you want?” Steve asked, fumbling at his heated neck. “What do you—?”

“Be good.” It was mumbled, cringing. “Wanna be good.” A shaky inhale. “Make you feel good.”

Steve’s blood was roaring everywhere but his brain—would’ve fallen over if he weren’t clutching Billy. “Want that, too.”

He heard a thready laugh, and Billy straightened, leaning back into his hold, face tipped, lidded gaze on Steve’s chin. “So?”

So what’ll it be?

Buying himself time to gather his wits, some composure lest he combust, Steve tilted his head, assessing. Adjusting his hold, ran a thumb across Billy’s lower lip, firm enough to pull at the skin. “Want this.” Another swipe, exposing teeth, his curving tongue. “Make me feel good with this.”

A tug at his belt, and Billy was nodding, making short work of the button and zip—movements quick and precise. He sank, kneeling at Steve’s feet, tugging the pants to hang at midthigh, and finally looked up.

Steve swept blond curls off his forehead. “Like you like this.”

Billy stared, eyes gleaming. Seemed to be—waiting.

“So good like this,” Steve corrected. “Now show me how good.”

Swaying, Billy buried his face in Steve’s briefs, nosing him through straining cotton, and huffed hot air at the crown. Steve compulsively gripped fistfuls of hair, still using Billy’s ears as handlebars, and resolved not to let go—to let Billy show him.

And, boy, did he. Laved at his dick until the fabric was soaked, the white gone translucent—white gone flushed pink, twitching under kitten licks—and Steve was on the verge of begging when a pull at his waistband freed his cock, bobbing only a sec before swallowed in Billy’s grip, fed into his greedy mouth.

Steve’s entire vocabulary had been reduced to one word, babbled at the ceiling behind closed lids: good, good, good, only sometimes it came out guh, guh, guh. One hand cupped the back of Billy’s head, and it was when his hips were on a steady grinding roll that he realized he’d caged Billy against him, locked the gulping heat around his cock as he plugged toward the peak.

Billy wasn’t struggling, though—his fingers biting into the meat of Steve’s ass, moaning so deep in his chest that Steve felt it more than heard it.

Steve grappled for a new word—close, close—but Billy didn’t stop, didn’t let up a second, and when Steve grunted his release, the throat worked around him still.

The moment Billy pulled off, lungs heaving, face ruby red and shining, Steve flopped to his knees, blindly reached for Billy, draping loose arms around his neck, his ribs, waiting for his own breaths to slow.

“Was it,” Billy asked, tight. “Was it—?”

“Good,” Steve said, huffing a laugh, coasting hands across the bellows of his back. “So good—you’re so good. Always so good for me.”

Billy burrowed his face into Steve’s throat, his collarbone, looping him in an uncertain hug. He was hard, pressed against where Steve’s clothes gaped open. Working a hand between them, Steve rubbed his palm along rigid heat.

“What do you want?” he asked, nuzzling the nest of blond. “Since you been so good?”

A shudder ran up the sloping spine. Steve smoothed his free hand down to Billy’s waist and back up, waiting.

“I—cleaned the shower,” Billy said, halting. “I could—show you, and—?”

Steve kissed his temple, quick, so helplessly fond. Overwhelmed.

“Good boy wants a wash?” Steve suggested, and tightened his arms when Billy tried to do his pillbug thing. “Be my good boy,” he said, hushed, nosing Billy’s flushed ear. “You want to?”

And Billy curled again, only this time around him. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”

Now with added sequel: Let's Give the Boy a Hand

#harringrove #harringrovekinktober2k23 #roommates in love #roommates in ill-defined dom subby dynamic #billy wants the praise #and the dick #steve gives it

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decolonize-the-everything · 9 months

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When are we going to talk about how gen z and alpha growing up with lifelong access to tech didn't make them good with technology, it made them bad with people.

A lot of people, when Leave the World Behind was released, related to the youngest character. The daughter who's only priority and desire was to watch the Friends finale as the adults around her were crippled with anxiety about politics, current events, and the very real possibility a war was happening.

One of her most hard-hitting lines was about wanting nothing but the smallest of comforts in a world that guaranteed you none. So if she was gonna die, she was gonna die watching Friends.

She had little to no empathy for her parents or the rest world, which is key to her character's behavior throughout the movie.

"yes, okay the internet is out and there's a blackout and flamingos are in the pool in the USA, and you're terrified, but can you just please fix the TV for me?"

And yeah, I do think it was the damn phones. Because what she's doing isn't all that different from what a LOT of Americans and Gen Z are doing right now while genocides happen.

It's not that different from what a lot of us do. See something awful on our phone and at some point put the phone down like we didn't. Instead we make dinner, do laundry, go to work.

It's our routine.

But gen z and alpha were born into that climate, unlike the rest of us. They didn't grow up seeing the internet be built. They didn't grow up with friends who created forums or sites or were constantly finding new ones. All that already existed. The internet doesn't have secret corners to hide in anymore. Just shadowy ones you really shouldn't wander into.

The work that needed to be done was already done or being done by someone else. Markets and sites were already saturated. If I want to Google something right now, I know for a fact that someone already posted sources and a webpage for it, too.

So much was simply Provided to them. They're so used to the idea of Unknown Others solving problems for them.

Why would they make the effort to solve anything themselves when experience has shown they just have to Google it. Or that it probably already exists. And what difference would They make anyway?

Afterall they themselves are just another Unknown Other in someone else's life, aren't they? Someone nobody thinks about again after their avatar scrolls by.

Is it really that far of a stretch to say that doing this everyday or even just seeing it happen everyday has had material and tangible effects on us as a society?

That it's resulted in a generation of kids who not only undervalue themselves but the impact they are capable of having on their society. Who have resigned to simply Existing within the world instead of trying to thrive in it?

Can we talk about how millennials saying "the next generation will handle it" was nothing but entitlement? We wanted to stop fighting and tried to pass the torch onto a generation that hadn't even graduated high school yet.

And we made things worse by doing that. If we can refuse to fight for them, why would they fight for anyone else? And when parents hand their kids an iPad and send them off to occupy themselves why would they look for human connections?

We taught them not to.

The internet was and is the only consistent thing Gen Z and alpha has had that did not expect anything of them.

And now most of us would be content to doomscroll in the apocalypse in the name of our "mental health"

We've all seen the memes and jokes about it, don't backpedal now. Like I said, a lot of people saw Rose in that movie and made #me & #same posts.

Few would get up and try to cause the change to change anything. Which, in that movie and IRL is how change is made. Real people getting up and working together. Someone doing the work nobody else wants to because someone has to.

But what happens when you grew up thinking someone else was always gonna do it for you anyway?

And that if they didn't, that you were the least qualified because the internet is Full of people more capable than you, right?

The world is full of people more capable than you. Your phone told you that, didn't it? So there's no point in you doing anything.

Is there?

People need people, in case you forgot. People need you, in case you forgot.

You're not an Unknown Other in my phone. You are person, in case you forgot.

My tribe has this saying that I know is shared with other natives "be a good ancestor"

A reminder that not only are we the product of the people who came before us, but the people after us will be products of us and our choices, too. That time is linear and goes forward and that how we spend that time matters. Not just for us, but for every single person who will come after us.

A reminder that even though we may be one person in a very long line, we are never ever without the power to change our future. That we have a responsibility to our community and family to use the time we are given for good. A reminder that the life I have isnt just for me. It's for a we.

That I am not just some Unknown Other. I'm a community member, I'm a person, and as such I owe it to my community to be better and demand better for them.

I think a lot of people need that lesson.

You're not an Unknown Other that nobody thinks about. Youre a community member and I actually think about you all the time.

I think about everyone who has resigned to doomerism all the time and I wish y'all would wake up. You're like the depressed cousin on the couch who naps too much and this is me trying to snap you out of it again.

Wake up.

You're loved and valued and people need you. Get up. Be a good ancestor.

#this is kinda all over the place but bless if you get it lol #gen z #gen alpha #whiteness #white supremacy

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