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#brick attempts to be funny
furbearingbrick · 8 months
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allow me to slip into something more comfortable
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dovalore · 1 year
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simple diagram of my wol and his carbuncle
also some updated info on him since a lot has changed since the last time i talked about his lore
he's at least half viera and has like, 8 other siblings who are also at least half viera
the scar going across the bridge of his nose was from a wound he sustained during That One Fight in stormblood
not pictured are his little fangs he likes to bite specific people with
dovae's tail is so long and fluffy he curls it into a swirl behind him when he's not active. it uncurls when he's in battle or otherwise particularly active
he's incredibly meticulous when it comes to his physical appearance, he prides himself on being well-groomed. especially his tail, he enchanted a brush specifically to help him keep it free of matting
brick is still brick, absolutely nothing has changed about him except his power level, which has only increased
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the whole. eyrie and thancred trying to figure out how to take care of each other is like trying to stick a square peg in a round hole
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ablednt · 2 years
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I was going to joke that everyone on tumblr should band together to revive some old (actually old) mostly irrelevant media and make it our new universal obsession for the bit and then I remembered the era where we all decided the cask of amontillado was actually a comedy. That was so funny.
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ohimsummer · 5 months
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BEG FOR IT ft. BULLY! SATOSUGU
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— minors dni, bully! satosugu x female! reader, feisty idk, dubcon, groping, nipple play, nipple stimulation, biting/marking, a hint of choking, teasing
wc 1.9k
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You’ve heard the name Satoru Gojo whispered among males and females alike on campus. How he’s good looking and charming and oh-so skilled at everything. You think his greatest skill might be getting on the nerves of people who want nothing to do with him.
This isn’t the first time you’ve gotten into an altercation with Gojo. It seems he seeks you out for the sole purpose of one; to pin your wrists above your head and lean in close to tease, and suffocate you with his loud cologne that you’ll never admit smells delectable on him. The way this song and dance usually goes is he spots you, taunts you, wrestles you against a wall until he deems your squirming and whining “too annoying”, and then he leaves you with a “See ya later, princess!”. You don’t know why today suddenly warrants different results.
“Let go of me, Gojo.”, you deadpan at him, icy stare meeting his own. You don’t find this manhandling of you funny, you never do, and you hate the way Gojo laughs about it like your dismay is just hilarious to him.
“Make me.”, he chuckles in your face.
Fuck him. You twist against his hold again, and Gojo has to give you credit for actually managing to free a hand. Though it’s about all you’ll manage. He’s too big and too heavy for you to force proximity — it’s like throwing yourself at a brick wall. Doesn’t mean you can’t try.
“Aw, how cute.,” Gojo snickers at your attempt to push him away by the throat, grabbing your wrist and holding it away from him. “Try a little harder for me, yeah?” And he bats those stupid, long eyelashes at you.
You sigh in exasperation and squirm some more. You stamp at his foot, and he moves them at the last minute every time. You push against him to at least get away from the wall, but it’s all to no avail. He’s got you trapped here and there seems to be nothing you can do about it.
“Give up?,” he asks at your deflation.
His taunt springs you back to life, and your cheeks puff out in an angry pout. “Let go of me, I said!”
“Make me, I said.”
And if it wasn’t for your hands being restrained, you’d claw him right in his annoyingly pretty face.
You wriggle again. “You’re such an asshole. Don’t you have anything better to do with your spare time besides harass innocent girls?”
Gojo maneuvers your wrists into one hand just so he can tap at his chin. “Better than this? Don’t think so, gorgeous.” He leans forward to whisper into your ear. “And I’m not harassing innocent girls, I’m harassing you-“
“Get off me!” Your writhing and thrashing cuts off the end of his sentence, and Gojo bursts with laughter at your futile struggles.
“Oh? Who’s that?”
Both of you turn to the sound of the familiar voice. You sigh an obvious, angry breath at the arrival of another annoying man, Suguru Geto. Of all the people who could have come across you two, it had to be someone else to get on your nerves.
“My little plaything.,” Gojo answers. “Cute, isn’t she?“
Geto comes to stand next to his best friend, and something twitches in the pit of your stomach. Aggravation, yes, but something else telling you to hurry and get out of there.
You glare at the two men who steadily eye your constrained form. The look in their eyes harbors anything but good intentions.
Geto starts. “She-“
“Are you two gonna hold me here all day or….?” You have a feeling their spiteful answer is closer to yes, so since you figure they’ll keep you here, might as well be as annoying to them as they are to you.
“Such a pretty face.” You turn away as Geto thumbs at your glossy lips. “Shame you’re so rude.”
“Oh, excuse me for not being so polite to my captors.” They laugh at the scowl on your face, and you find yourself shrinking away from their salacious leering.
Geto tilts his head, and you notice his lingering gaze on your chest. “I just got here, I’m not the one keeping you in these halls.”
“Well, you’re surely not helping.”
Gojo chimes in. “You don’t wanna spend time with us, Y/-“
His grip loosened for just a second, guard let down because Geto’s around, and you take full advantage of it. You yank your wrists away from his grasp, bolting between them and heading for the nearest door to the outside. You can see it clearly, your escape: white double doors with warm sunlight flooding in through the window, a lit up path to your savior, the outside. Your fingers are grazing that first streak of sunshine, the heat of it kisses your fingertips-
There’s a jerk of your wrist, and your salvation is stripped away as fast as it came. You feel a firm heat against your back, and the view of the doors is blocked by Geto’s tall frame. Bright beams of sunlight flow around his body, giving him such a dramatic lighting. Like he’s a god or something. You have to laugh, if not for the irony then for your own sanity because your escape attempt has been so quickly thwarted.
Gojo’s hefty, patronizing laugh sounds out in your eardrum. “And where did you think you were going, hm?”
You’re so pissed off you can’t even hear their cruel mockery. Hands now pinned behind your back, all you can do is hang your head in frustration and curse them in your mind, and God knows you’re cursing the absolute hell out of them. Gojo and Geto and their stupid laugh, their stupid faces, their stupid, stupid need to always be bothering you.
Caught up in your own scornful thoughts, you don’t hear when they address you.
“Think we broke her?,” Gojo asks.
Geto hums, chuckles. “Maybe.” He steps a little closer to you and Gojo. “Let’s see.”
His larger hands hover over your sides, rising until they near your chest. Gojo eagerly studies his movements over your shoulder, watches in anticipation as his friend’s hands come to rest on your breasts.
The groping of your boobs brings you back to reality, and you snap your gaze to the dark haired man in front of you. “H-hey, wait a second-!”
Geto doesn’t stop, only begins slowly massaging your tits as Gojo speaks. “Oh? Back with us, princess?”
You’re incredulous at the absolute gall they have to treat you this way. “Stop that!”
Narrow, dark eyes meet your own, wide and brimming with newfound anxiety. Geto ignores your demands, and his thumbs move to press over your nipples through the two layers of your shirt and bra. It feels so teasing, and the ministrations are causing a wetness between your legs, but you’d never let these two see this is turning you on.
You wiggle and pull away from Geto, but that only presses you further into Gojo’s body. It’s a lose-lose situation. Geto sees the realization in your eyes.
“Gonna behave for me?,” he murmurs as his fingers dip beneath your shirt.
“St-stop—!”, you try and command him with even an ounce of authority, but it comes out as a feeble whimper.
Gojo uses one hand to keep your wrists bound, and the other latches onto your throat. He directs your wavering glare towards him, presses his lips to your cheek as he continues to taunt you.
“We’ll let you go if you beg…”, he offers.
And your immediate answer is of course no, you’d rather eat shit and die. “I most certainly will not! Let go of me!”
Geto pulls your shirt above the swell of your breasts, exposing a lacey, pink bra. He comments ‘cute’, and you barely register it since you’re too busy struggling to turn your head against Gojo’s tight grip. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, and while you’re reeling with what you hope is disgust, you feel the tightness of your bra loosen and the undergarment falls to the floor.
“Look at that.”, Gojo halts his teasing assault on you for a second to take a good look at your exposed tits. “So selfish hiding all this from us.”
“I’m not-!,” A squeak interrupts your statement as Geto runs a tongue over one nipple. Your thighs clench on instinct, and the look they share tells you they both noticed.
“I’m not!”, you finish your sentence. You don’t even know what else to say after that.
“Y’know…”, Geto mutters in between harsh suckles of your hardening nipples. “Perhaps if you weren’t so weak, you could’ve been out of this by now...”
The sheer audacity for him to even utter such a phrase has you struggling once again. “Weak? It’s taking two of you just to keep me here!”
Gojo promptly quips, “Only one of us is holding you, sweetheart.”
You aim to crush his toes beneath your shoes, only to be met with the floor when Gojo once again dodges your attack. Your lack of a proper comeback might as well be the funniest joke on earth the way he laughs in your ear about it. Not like it’s your fault, how are you supposed to focus with Geto swirling your nipples on his tongue and pinching them between thick fingers, and Gojo biting and sucking rough marks along your neck? You’re fighting back moans and trying to find the strength just to stay upright. If that wasn’t enough, you’re also juggling the fact that your panties are soaked straight through and, if you don’t leave soon, they’ll notice the discoloration dripping down your stockings.
Gojo gives your throat a squeeze, and smirks as you rasp in a breath.
“All you gotta do is beg for it.”, he quietly sings against your earlobe.
Pride be damned, you needed to get away before they used your arousal as another excuse to keep you around any longer. And to escape straight to your dorm for a little private time because just the way Geto was playing with you was gonna have your pussy leaking everywhere. You would not, could not afford to let them see you like that. You’d never hear the end of it.
Gojo’s hand leaves your throat and you let out a sigh. But your relief is short-lived as you feel his touch edge closer to your backside.
You’ve never made a decision faster. “Please let go of me.”
For a split second, it’s like time has stopped. Geto pulls away from your hardened nipples with a loud ‘pop’, Gojo’s hand stills on the curve of your ass. Both men look at you with matching grins, like they just won a Nobel prize.
Geto speaks first. “What was that?”
And Gojo right after. “Yeah, repeat it again?”
Your brows furrow and your gaze falls directly to the floor. “Pl…please let go of me.”
The grip on your wrists loosens instantly, and you snatch away from them both. You tug your shirt down to cover your breasts, and wrap both arms around yourself.
“See, now was that so hard?”, Gojo laughs after you who’s already heading out the door, yelling a shaky ‘fuck you guys!’ as it drifts shut behind you.
You walk back to your dorm on wobbly legs, erect buds poking through your wrinkled top. Finally able to flop down in the comfort of your bed, you realize you never picked your bra up off the floor.
No worries. It’s perfectly safe in their hands.
(aftermath)
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xveenusx · 5 months
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Indifference
Paring(s): Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: Two people who are in love, well he used to be
Authors note: you guys like when I make you cry
Rating: angsty
Warnings: it'll hurt :)
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He was late.
Time was a funny thing. Minutes turned to hours which rolled into days then suddenly months began to blur into years. In that time, people tend to go out and experience things, falling in and out of love, enjoying everything life had to offer.
Yet, I somehow found myself motionless, the spark that once ignited my core had been stifled to a small ember. Life continued to pass by while I remained glued in one place, watching as everyone around me attempted to achieve some form of happiness.
I was once like that. Filled with some much hope for a life with someone I loved, who showed up to support me and believed in my capability, because at one time in my life that was exactly what Rafe was.
Like I said, time was a funny thing. The more time passes with your partner, the more comfortable they seem to get. They stop trying. However, at what point does being comfortable become almost negligent?
Dates were canceled, appointments missed, and important accomplishments forgotten the more time went on. Rafe’s priorities shifted and I went from being the center of his world to being a planet merely circling his gravitational pull.
In his mind, we were forever, so a couple of cancellations here and there and bouts of forgetfulness were nothing in the span of things. I would have agreed had the cancellations not doubled with time or our conversations going from intimate and deep to surface level at best.
He was never home. It was always just me in this large house on figure 8.  Suddenly, he went from being the moon and the stars to just a bleak, unforgivable starless night. Cold and dark.
We had met when we were 16 and he was every bit a spoiled little rich boy that had extreme daddy issues, but there was more to him than that. I picked at his defenses until finally they shattered, and I was engulfed by all of him.
He was just different around me and that fact alone left me delighted. It made me feel special, almost stupidly so.
Things between Rafe and his father were already tense enough since Rafe bought a motorbike with the money he was supposed to spend on the generator. Then everything began to snowball out of control from there. He threw himself into his father’s work and when he wasn’t doing that, he was with Kells and Topper doing god knows what and snorting anything he could find.
Despite all of this, Rafe always kept me close and always let me in. 
Last year, when Ward had gone with Sarah and John B to South America, and didn’t return, something shifted inside him. His defenses were rebuilt, only this time he left me on the outside, and no matter how hard I tried to break him down brick by brick, nothing worked. He became obsessed with running Ward’s real estate empire better than he ever did.
Rafe was a cold and calculated legacy with a large chip on his shoulder that made him lethal against competing firms. He chewed them up and spit them out.
With every major milestone, it was never enough for him, and like a man possessed he continued to ruthlessly target anyone that had done him wrong. We had everything and yet the bitterness seemed to consume him. He was someone I saw once a day if I was lucky. He always left before I woke up and was never home by the time I went to bed and suddenly we were glorified roommates.
Once upon a time, I would stay up waiting for him with my heart in my hand, hoping to connect in any way. Even if I only had a few minutes to spend with him before he went to sleep, it was enough for me. But, 10 pm became 11 pm which turned into 12 am and so I gave up. My sleep schedule was already a mess as thoughts and insecurities pestered my mind of another woman.
“Any word from him yet? Some of the donors are asking for him?” The question pulls me out of my thoughts and I turn to face my assistant, Rai.
Her question is innocent enough, but I can hear the slight concern in her voice and I know she has her doubts which only serves as another humiliating reminder that Rafe has done this to me repeatedly.
But this was different. He knew how important this charity dinner was to the shelter I opened up for women and children who suffered from domestic violence.
As someone who came from the cut, it was everywhere and so many didn’t have the means to flee and so they were forced to stay and in the most severe instances, die.
Rafe gave me the start-up money as a gift and it was a huge success that I opened several more as well as fund for scholarships for both the mothers and kids. Which is what brings me to now, a charity dinner and auction to help fund said scholarships and pay for all the shelter necessities.
He promised he would be here. It’s important for the donors to see him here seeing as though he donated a huge sum once more and could ease the minds of those who are teetering on the edge. It’s also important to me. This project is mine, something I created and shared with the world and I want to share it with him too.
I want him to celebrate this accomplishment with me and he is nowhere to be found.
“He’ll be here. Rafe promised.” I clear my throat, “He knows how important this is to me.”
Rai gave me a doubtful look and I know that I couldn’t convince her anymore than I could convince myself. The engagement ring that bore my finger instantly weighed a ton.
Glancing down at the large diamond that once meant the promise of everything, stared back at me as nothing more than a simple accessory.
Rafe had proposed and foolishly I believed that it would save us so I said yes.
I stayed and time and time again, the disappointment slowly began to etch away at the childish hope I tried to cling onto until only a dull ache remained.
“Don’t you look lovely?” Plastering a fake smile onto my face, I let out a sheepish laugh as I take in Kiara’s parents. 
“Thank you guys so much for coming.” The words ring true but I couldn’t help but feel like I was underwater. My focus is shot and I find myself hardly listening with my eyes darting to the front door every minute or so, desperate to see the man I used to think would never stop loving me. 
I float around the room, committed to being a gracious host, because I would not let him take this from me too. Not when he’s taken everything else already. This is the only piece left of me. 
My cheeks hurt two hours later from all the fake smiles and my throat burns from the feigned laughing. The sound of my own voice makes me wince. 
In those two hours, I felt my confidence slowly get chipped piece by piece as everyone questioned where my fiancé was. And for a moment, I hated him. I truly hated him because even this small piece of heaven I made for myself is tied into him. 
Honey, I need to run some numbers with Rafe. Where is he hiding? 
Where is the biggest investor? Surely, he’s here, right?
I haven't seen Mr. Cameron. Has he stepped out? 
With which I responded,” Work emergency, you know how it is. He’s nothing if not committed.” Considering most of these possible donors run their own large companies, they completely understand but it’s their partners reactions that seem to leave me stunned. 
Each had a warm look of understanding dancing in their eyes as I’m sure they’ve used the same excuse time and time again.
I can only take so much. So I excuse myself and glance at the small gold heart shaped watch on my delicate wrist and take note of the time.
There was only 30 minutes left and I haven't gotten so much as a text from him. 
A pit began to form where my stomach used to be as I realized once more that he wasn’t coming. As I stood in a packed room, filled with a flurry of activity, surrounded by people, I’ve never felt more alone.
Then my eyes connect with Mrs. Dune, the wife of a finance guru that works alongside Rafe. She was much older than I, having been with her husband for 30 years but she looked even older. 
It’s almost as though she can read my thoughts, because she sends me a sad smile as she lets her eyes go to where her husband stands talking to other donors. I haven't seen him talk to her the whole night, instead she’s been standing at his side saying nothing. 
I take an uneven breath and my eyes widen in realization. Was this what I had to look forward to? A life sentence of loneliness vacant of any warmth and attention? 
Swallowing hard, I force my eyes away and stare at the door. Begging whoever will listen to please, this once, let me be wrong. I’m so in my thoughts that I’m startled when a soft hand lands on my arm.
“You get used to it. Eventually, you’ll feel nothing.” Mrs. Dune says quietly, her eyes moving back to her husband, with a look I can only describe as longing. 
That’s the thing. I don't want to get used to it. This isn’t how I want to be loved.
“What you’ve accomplished is amazing. Don’t let him take that away from you.” Was her parting words and she left, not sparing her husband another glance. 
When I turn to see if he noticed she left, he’s still engaged in conversations and doesn’t spare her a glance. 
This is not how I want to be loved. 
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you. This is Amy Park.” Rai looks ecstatic as she introduces me to the stunning tall woman next to her. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Park.” The words come out on instinct.
“I wanted to discuss how open you would be to expanding shelters nationwide?”
And for the first time in awhile, a real smile graces my face as I answer her question. 
_____________________
The first thing I notice when I pull into our driveway is the plethora of cars that fill it. The second thing I pick up on is familiar vibrations of music with each step I take along our pathway. 
My front door is wide open as people come in and out, clearly under the influence of something and my chest constricts. 
This is what he’s been doing? This was more important than me? 
Clutching my keys tightly, I welcome the familiar biting against my skin. I recognize many of the faces, most of them having gone to school with Rafe. 
If it was any other night, I would have joined them. We were only 22 and yet have lived what seems to be a hundred lives. But, this is different. He’s different. 
Climbing up the staircase, I head to the balcony where I hear a familiar boast of laughter. 
I cleared my throat. “What’s so funny?”
Heads snap in my direction but my eyes are only on one. One that currently has a short black haired girl nearly in his lap. I recognize her as a bartender at one of the local grills/bars we frequent. 
“Don’t you look gorgeous-“ Topper attempts to run interference, but it’s too late. I raise my hand to silence him. I’ve already seen everything I needed too. 
His body is positioned slightly in front of them as if I was going to body slam them. I might actually. 
“Hey, wait! How did the donor dinner go?” Topper's eyes dart to Rafe’s. “That was tonight right?”
I see the moment everything clicks. His eyes rake down from my newly styled hair to the louboutins in my feet. Everything I wore from the jewelry on my body to the shoes on my feet he bought me, and I’ve never felt more sick.
Rafe clenches his eyes shut as he shakes his head. “Fuck.”
Fuck, indeed.
“Get out of my way, Topper.”
He throws a worried glance to Rafe. “I think maybe-“
“Top, give us a second.” Rafe mutters tensely. He keeps his hard set gaze on me, drilling into me, almost as though he’s daring me to move. 
Kelce stands up giving me an apologetic look. “Rafe, man, there’s a bunch of people here.”
I force myself to look away. 
“Not right now, Kells.” 
He wasn’t wrong. This house was full of people, but the only difference being that none of them matter. Not to me and not to Rafe. 
Steady. Keep steady and just breathe. 
“So what should I do-“
I look at him. Me or them? It was unsaid but he knew what I was asking him. 
“Back the fuck off and give me a fucking second with my girl.” Rafe barks out, running a rough hand through the short cropped strands that brush against his forehead. 
Both hold their hands up in mock surrender before shuffling off to the side. The girl doesn’t get up. 
Topper coughs. “Sophia.” 
Her eyes take me in with clear distaste. Her hand is still dangerously close to Rafe’s waistband. I raise a single eyebrow giving her one last opportunity to move. 
She doesn’t. Not when Kelce calls out for her either.
Sophia made her bed. Setting my bag down, I take three big steps before I’m roughly shoving her off the couch sending her sprawling on the floor. 
Rafe let’s out a curse but makes no move to help her. At least he’s not stupid.
“Get out.” The words leave no room for negotiation.
The glare she sends me is filled with ice. “I was invited.”
Kelce lets out a groan before whispering,”Is she serious?”
The fake smile I’ve perfected over the years decorated my face as I bent down to her height on the floor. 
Flashing my engagement ring in her face. “Get out of my fucking house.”
That seems to shut her up and I watch with narrowed eyes as she struts away, Topper and Kelce in tow.
I can hear my heart pounding in my ears while my chest feels like it’s going to explode. I turn around slowly to face my damnation. 
My heels click against the marble floor and with each step I take, the more the ache in my chest grows. Marching up to Rafe, I grab his chin and force him to look at me. Those familiar glacial blue eyes are red. His pupils are blown wide and my chest cracks wide open. 
He’s high. 
This is not how I want to be loved. 
This is what he wanted to do instead of being there for me. Instead of supporting me. Instead of loving me. 
Dying would be less painful.
 I stare directly into those eyes, searching for an answer, wondering when the love he felt for me slowly became indifference.
I’d almost rather there be a mistress rather than this cold indifference.
“Did you have fun at least?” My words are soft but the intention is anything but. 
He says nothing. Instead Rafe studies me like I’m a wounded animal. 
Dark. Beautiful. Cruel. 
Those are the words I’d use to describe the man in front of me. The gaze that once felt like a soft caress on my skin now felt clinical. 
“It seems like you’re having fun.” I quip, flicking the small bag filled with familiar white powder. 
I thought I could fix him. I will not make that mistake again.
“I completely forgot-“
“How?” I ask. 
His eyes narrow like he’s trying to figure me out. “Work got insanely busy. You know how it is. Even if I own the place, I’m young and the older guys don’t respect me.”
“It was in your work calendar.” 
“No, it wasn’t-“
“It was also on your personal calendar and our joint one. I had your assistant send you a reminder email. So my question is how?” My voice wobbled and it was only by a small miracle that I didn’t throw something in his face. “How did you forget the only thing I’ve asked you for?” 
Something flickered in his eyes. “It wasn’t intentional. It slipped my mind.”
“Something I worked so hard to accomplish just slipped your mind?” Exhaustion has finally got the better of me and I finally let him see just how much he’s managed to chip away. 
“I should have been there for you and I’m so sorry,” His throat flexed a hard swallow. “But there will be other dinners.” 
The dull ache in my chest thrummed harder. Rafe was brushing this off, just like he always did. My skin flushed. 
At my silence, he braces his elbows on his knees and leans forward, tracking my every move. “I feel like you’re not understanding me.”
“No, I understand you just fine. It just wasn’t important enough for you.”
He stilled. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Of course it wasn’t what he meant but he’s managed to make me feel so insignificant. So small. 
“I know that you’ve canceled most of our dates for work. Even an anniversary once. I know that you missed the grand opening of the shelter that I spent a year and half planning.” I force the words out, each breath I take feeling like needles. “I asked for this one thing, Rafe and you couldn’t even give me that.” 
“What about everything I have given you? This house, the car you drive in, the clothes on your back, the boat?”
It’s like I’m staring at 16 year old Rafe again. To him, material things were the equivalent to love. He couldn’t be farther from the truth.
I find that I was much happier when I had little to nothing, than I am now, sitting here with everything, in my gown and jewels. 
“I didn't ask for any of those things.” By the stubborn gleam in his eyes, I knew he was going to fight me on everything. 
Lately, his tactic was always combative and it was easier to give in or to not say anything at all. 
 “No, but you took them all the same. I fucked up, I get that. I know what this shelter means to you, but that doesn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t even have it if it weren’t for me.”
A familiar buzzing filled my ears. His words were ugly but they weren’t a lie. Even my project was his. I had nothing of my own.
I wonder how many other people came to the same revelation. Maybe that’s why so many of them asked where he was? Because this accomplishment wasn’t mine, no clearly it was his.
There is not enough room in my chest for the ache he caused. 
Words can’t seem to make it to my lips. I think my brain has finally broken and realizes that no words I say will get him to change. 
Smoothing out my dress, I stand on shaky legs before kicking off my heels. He can keep them. With that, I leave him out on the porch and make a beeline towards our his room. 
Opening the closet doors, I reach for the suitcase before setting it on the bed. I wasn’t going to be like Mrs. Dune and waste away beside a man that used to love me, hoping that one day he will once more. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” The words are hard and low. 
Rafe stands at the door, his arms crossed over his chest. His face is brewing with several emotions I can't quite place. 
It was funny. I haven't seen this much emotion from him in months.
I ignore him and toss some clothes from my dresser into the open suitcase, making sure to grab only the clothes I needed.
I slowly take off each piece of jewelry and set it on my vanity. He can keep everything he so gloriously mentioned he bought. 
“You loved me once.” I state, tilting my head to the side. I rake over every detail of his face, knowing I’ll never forget it. 
I loved him once too. 
His face morphed to one of confusion before disbelief. “I still love you. That’s never changed.” 
I shake my head. “Yes, it has.”
Rafe stalks towards me, his hand reaching to burl around my neck while the other pulls me to him by my waist. Familiar cologne fills my lungs and I count to ten mentally. It was the same cologne I bought him when we first started dating. 
“I work too much, I know. That’s my fault and I’ll cut back. I’ll be home more and we can spend time together. I’ll do better.” Taking my chin between two fingers, he forces my eyes to his. I see the sincerity in his eyes but I know how this goes. 
The same way it’s gone the last two times. He’ll beg me to stay, promise to change, and things will be good for a month before he slowly starts missing dates or canceling trips we’ve planned months before. Then the cycle repeats. 
“No.” It was time to love myself. Since he clearly couldn’t do it. I will not allow myself to get lost in him again. 
“Baby, just wait. Will you wait-“ He huffs as I try to move around him. No such success as his towering body has me moving back and suddenly I’m caged in by his arms. “Just give me a second, okay?”
“I’ve given you years. I won’t give you another second.” 
“Talk to me.” His voice breaks. “Please just talk to me.”
Longing filled my body. Words I’ve been waiting to hear for months come so easily to him, but only when I already have one foot out the door.
 “I’m alone.” The words come out strangled. “ I’m alone in this. I have been for a long time.”
“What do you mean? Baby, I’m right here.” Rafe’s gripping onto me tighter, almost like he’s ensuring I don’t leave. “I’m right here.”
“You're never here. That’s exactly my point.” 
Rafe’s eyes widen before he shakes his head wildly, staring at me like I’m speaking another language. “That’s not true-“
“What’s today?”
“What?” 
“What’s today?” I repeat, my eyes never leaving his. I want to see every emotion that storms in his eyes, just to remind myself that he is capable of emotion after all. 
“Friday.” 
I smile at him sadly. Exactly my point. “I haven't seen you since Tuesday.” 
“No, that can’t be right. I was with you when we had lunch with-“ He breaks off, reaching for his phone in his pocket. I watch as he pulls up his calendar, an action that mortifies me, and confirms our scheduled date.
 “Tuesday.” He whispers, shocked even. 
I wasn’t. Rafe had to check his calendar to confirm that last time he’s seen his fiancé. 
“You used to come bring me lunch. If you were more than a couple hours, you always found your way to me or gave me a call that you’ll be late.” I shrugged, blinking back the tears stinging my eyes. “Now, I don’t think I’d get a call if you were in the hospital.”
The buzzing in my ears intensifies.
 “You didn’t tell me any of this. None of how you were feeling and you're ready to walk out the door without so much as an argument.” A spark of my old Rafe appears as frustration dances across his face.
“I should have-“
“You’re giving up.” He states, shaking his head in anger. 
Maybe I was. “I’m tired of fighting for us. You gave up a long time ago.” 
Large hands curl around my cheeks, pulling me towards his face. Rafe rests his forehead on mine, his piercing blue eyes darting across my face in panic. 
“I love you. I love you.” He knows he’s grasping at straws, but we feel like strangers now. The words don’t feel like they used to. “You know I love you.”
 “This isn’t how I want to be loved, Rafe. I see you every couple days, the only time we’re ever together is when we have sex.” We lost sight of how we once were. The only thing that remained good between us was sex. 
That alone isn’t healthy. He goes to open his mouth but I cut him off.
“We never talk and when we do, you don’t even listen to me. Your brain is always somewhere else.” 
“I’m in a relationship with a ghost. I’m not letting you suck the life out of me anymore.” My eyes catch the sparkling ring that once brought me such happiness. Now, it simply feels like a ball and chain. 
Before I can convince myself otherwise, I start to tug it off my finger when Rafe truly begins to panic. 
“Don’t do that. Please don’t do that.” I try to hand it to him but Rafe jolts back like he’s been burned. The look he gives my empty hand is nothing short of destroyed.
I think I’m going to throw up. His words are laced with raw grief that makes it hard for me to breathe.
“Put it back on.” I hear the slight tremble in his voice.
“No.” My lips wobble. 
“Please put it back on because if you don’t that means we’re over. That’s not us. We aren’t supposed to end.”
“Rafe, don’t make this any harder than it already is.”
“You’re ripping my fucking heart out of my chest. This isn’t anywhere near hard, it’s excruciating.” Rafe’s hand is notably shaking, but he tries to hide it by clenching and unclenching his palms. 
“Welcome to the last year of my life.” The words are brutal but he needs to hear them. 
“You promised me we’d never end.” 
“You promised to change. I guess we both lied.”
Rafe raises his voice, his arms thrown up in the air in clear distress, “How can you just stand there?”
It was a miracle I haven’t collapsed on my shaky legs yet. The adrenaline pumping though my veins was the only thing getting me through this torture. “Rafe, stop it.”
“You talk about indifference?” Rafe lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head up at the ceiling. “Who’s heartless now, baby?”
“You don’t get to put this on me. I’ve given you years of my life, showered you with nothing but love and support. I asked for one night, one fucking night, in your busy schedule and you didn’t bother to show up, or send a simple text.” I intake a sharp breath, pushing the hair out of my face with a shaky hand. “Instead, you threw a party in our home and got high.”
I point a finger at his chest, staring at him with open heartbreak. “I needed you,” The tightness in my chest finally pops as I choke on a loud sob, “I needed you and you weren’t there.”
“I lost sight of what’s important to me. I’m just trying to give you everything-” I cut him off. 
Grabbing the clothes I haphazardly tossed in the suitcase, ”You want this? Take it,” I shove them into his chest, “Take all of it. I don’t want it. I’d give this all away in a heartbeat if it meant I could have you back.”
I meant every word. I wanted my best friend back, the person I confided in and depended on. I wanted our late nights back watching trashy reality TV. We used to sit in the bathtub together basking in each other's company. Went on walks along the beach or took the boat out for hours, fucking on the deck, not caring that anyone could see. 
It used to be simple. He loved me and I loved him. 
“I’m angry, baby.I’m so damn angry all the time. At my fucking dad for always having these impossible expections. Then he goes and dies, leaving me without a clue on how to manage everything.” Rafe sags against the wall, exhaustion marring his features, his blue eyes pleading for me to understand. “I feel like I’m drowning all the time.”
I had no idea this was how he was feeling. But, he never let me in. “You could have told me, we’re supposed to be partners in this. You asked me to marry you!”
I think deep down I know that he felt me slipping through his fingers at one point. He could see clearly how unhappy I’ve become and that’s why he proposed. And maybe just like him, I thought the proposal could fix us. This proposal was being manipulated on both ends, it was doomed from the start.
You can’t fix what’s already broken. 
“My head has basically been a war zone and I’m losing. The only thing keeping me sane is that I know, when I walk through that door,” he points to our bedroom door, “I’m going to find you in our bed. Every. Single. Night.” 
“I can’t let the ugly touch you.” My heart splits into two at his words. Words I know feel like acid leaving his mouth. “You’re the only thing I have left.”
“Then you should have taken better care of me. You should have let me take care of you.” 
“Fuck,” He screams, bending down and swiping the lamp clean of the nightstand. The lamp goes flying into the wall, shattering into hundreds of pieces and my eyes are drawn to them. I can’t help but think it reminds me of us.
Dragging my eyes back to his, I fight the urge to wrap him in my arms. Seeing him in pain has never brought me joy, but this was brutal. His eyes shined with unmistakable tears, realizing the strength of my resolve. 
There was no going back this time. There was no trying again. I didn’t have another try in me. 
I grip onto the fabric of my dress moving towards him, my heart pounding out of my chest. He moves instantly, holding out his hand to guide me over the shattered lamp. Why couldn’t he be like this months ago?
Why did he let it get this bad? Why couldn’t he love me?
Now, standing in front of him, I let myself one deep breath, basking in the comforting smell of him. A large hand curls around my neck, his grip strong and firm, demanding my attention. His blue eyes are daunting and so intense, I find myself fighting the urge to look away.
“I’m going to get you back.”
”Take it, Rafe.” I whisper, uncurling his limp hand, “Take it. It doesn’t mean what I want it to.”
Tears blur my vision as I fumble with the ring he refuses to take.
 Rafe shakes his head, clenching his jaw tightly. “There’s no point in taking it off if it’s gonna go right back there in a couple weeks. ”
I can’t help but smile at the determination in his voice. He sounds like the old Rafe and for a second I see a glimmer of who he used to be.
 He had me. Then he lost me. 
This is not how I want to be loved. 
“If spending the next few months without you means that I get to spend a lifetime with you, I can manage. I’ll do whatever I have to.  But don’t think for a second that there is anyone else on this entire fucking planet meant for you.”
That’s how I want to be loved. Too little too late.
I drop the ring.
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teyums · 11 months
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a/n: cats are so funny because they genuinely think they’re doing something nice for you when they drop a mouse at your feet as an offering and it’s actually the opposite. i was watching my cat play with her little toy and it just brought the terrifying memory back to me bc WHY WOULD YOU THINK I WANT THIS? As soon as the idea came i wrote it, Neteyam just seems like the type LMAOO 😭
neteyam x human!reader
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It takes Neteyam quite a while to understand the difference between Na’vi women and human women, especially the difference in what you do and don’t like. But you can’t blame him, you don’t look like his kind, you don’t smell like his kind, hell, you don’t even dress like them.
The Na’vi’s behavior very closely resembles that of a house cat on earth— you’ve noted after studying how Neteyam’s emotions portray themselves through his expressive tail, how his ears dip when he’s angry or perk up when he’s excited, or how he purrs when you finally agree to sitting in his lap instead of your chair while you finish up your work for the day. With the innate behavior of the two creatures mirroring each other almost completely, it’s no surprise that this also heavily factors into what they deem as ‘gifts’ for their favorite human.
Just as housecats will fetch their humans dead animals or rodents as an offering to them, the Na’vi way isn’t too far from that. You hated so much as looking at dead animals, let alone being near them, but when your childhood cat, Loki, used to bring field mice into the home and drop them at the foot of your bed, at least it was small enough for you to scoop into a grocery bag with pinched eyes and a hand over your nose while you fought back the tears of sheer terror.
Most of Neteyam’s catlike nature rendered adorable to you, and while you were more than willing to learn more about the ways of his people, this new custom he’d introduced you to had your heart dropping out of your ass like a brick and your soul exiting your body as if you could do without it. It’s when he shows up to the lab, a dead boar strung over his back with the biggest, toothiest smile you’ve ever seen spread on his lips until a bloodcurdling scream wipes it clean off his expression.
“Oh my God, ‘Teyam, get it away, get it away!” You shrill, so startled you almost tumble out of your desk chair, the hairs on your neck standing straight up as you divert your attention from the animal that’s almost the size of your body, a panicked hand splayed over your rumbling chest and the other extended out, palm towards him.
“What? You don’t like it? Should I have gone with a hexapede (deer) instead?” His brows gather in the center of his forehead when he steps closer and you immediately yelp and scoot back, the metal wheels of your chair screeching against the smooth tile with the effort of your retreat. He’s wholeheartedly confused, because any woman of his kind would find such a gesture as this one beyond thoughtful, and even romantic. Catching one of these things isn’t easy, and a clean kill with an arrow through the heart as to not rupture or damage the meat of the animal is even harder.
“I even skinned it for you!” He urges with a pout.
Your involuntary squeal interrupts his attempt to convince you as you fan your face with your hands, but it seems as if he’s still having trouble understanding.
“Perhaps I should have roasted it as well…” He ponders to himself with a hand pinching his chin, deep in contemplation while he keeps his catch over his shoulder and his eyes cast toward the wall, completely missing the way your trembling hands scramble over your desk for something to launch at him.
“GET IT OUT!”
He winces at the pitch of your shriek, astounded by how that loud of a sound could come out of such a tiny being. His brows raise before he quickly ducks to dodge the one-subject notebook that flaps past his head in a blur of fluttering paper, and he hurriedly obliges your wishes with a few steps back and a rushed ‘okay, okay!’.
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Likes + Comments + Reblogs are much appreciated 💗
©teyums 2023
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secretmellowblog · 1 month
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I saw Les Mis live for the first time the other weekend, and the surprising standout performance for me was Kyle Adams as Grantaire. He is a performer who has obviously read the Brick, and uses all of his stagetime to convey as many aspects of Brick Grantaire as possible; he also reads Grantaire’s love for Enjolras as explicitly gay and romantic (there’s a moment I’ll talk about later where he blows him a kiss.) I was actually surprised by how much he managed to convey in so little time!
Some highlights:
When Enjolras is asking for a “report on the strength of the foe,” Grantaire enthusiastically raises his hand, posturing and gesturing wildly at himself to volunteer. Enjolras casts him a disdainful look like “anyone elSE?” And that’s when Javert jumps in with his “I can find out the truth.” It’s like a small silent version of the Barrier du Maine scene; Grantaire was really giving that “je suis farouche.”
In general, there was this repeated Thing where Grantaire obnoxiously acts out in order to get Enjolras’s attention, and then flails around uselessly whenever he actually has it. Very in character.
Grantaire often goes on uproariously and jokingly about love; then, whenever he’s approached by Enjolras, he doesn’t seem to understand what to do about it.
Whenever Enjolras is singing dramatically about revolution— during Red and Black, Do You Hear the People Sing, and One Day More— Grantaire gazes at up at him with a amazed, awed, and overwhelmed look on his face, sometimes with his hand on his heart.
During Red and Black, there’s a moment where Grantaire “jokingly” caresses Enjolras’s face. Then during Do You Hear the People Sing, Enjolras passes Grantaire by and casually caresses his face; Grantaire acts a bit stunned, as if surprised Enjolras would deign to touch him. Finally, there’s a dramatic “reassuring face-caress” during the gay verse of Drink with Me.
There’s a repeated thing where Grantaire keeps offering Enjolras a bottle of wine, half-jokingly, only for Enjolras to reject it. In the last verse of Drink with Me, after Grantaire finishes his verse and walks away, Enjolras finally accepts a bottle of wine (though another character gives it to him.)
Iirc Grantaire doesn’t join in the fighting initially; he just stares at Enjolras in awe, and then mainly stands by Javert to “guard” him. I mainly mention this because I think Javert and Grantaire are a very funny duo, just as a concept. I think “being forced to listen to Grantaire monologues” is an excellent punishment for Javert.
During Marius’s verse of Drink with Me, Enjolras climbs to the top of the barricade, standing in the light. Grantaire is at the bottom in the shadows, attempting to sleep. As Marius sings about his love for Cosette, Grantaire raises his bottle to Enjolras, and then blows him a kiss. It’s very “let me sleep here until I die here.”
Finally, Grantaire has his "book death." After he spends the entire musical on the fringes being skeptical, he joins Enjolras in the final battle. He climbs up the barricade and says (I was close enough to hear) "Long live the Republic! I am one of them."
I'm genuinely impressed by how much of the Brick characterization he managed to convey with so little time-- some ad-libbing and lots of silent acting moments! It really gave me a greater appreciation of what a strong performer in a musical can do, and how they infuse even 'smaller' parts with lots of nuance and personality.
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villain-enthusiast · 2 months
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The hero coughed blood.
Fucking shit, they thought frantically, hand pressed over the gaping wound in their side. Their new opponent packed a serious punch, more than what the agency had expected when they sent the hero out to stop them. Somehow they’d escaped, but not without the nasty stab to their stomach.
Class two villain my ass. The hero grunted as they stumbled into an alleyway, nearly slamming their shoulder into one of the brick walls. They slipped into damp corner and sat down gingerly, their breathing shallow. Cold sweat broke out on their forehead.
They shook the sputtering communication device on their wrist. Busted. The hero suddenly realized with disturbing clarity that they would die here if they didn’t get help soon, bleeding their guts out on the floor.
Blinding pain shot through their torso, and they closed their eyes, muscles clenching. They couldn’t stand up, not without passing out. And with their internal bleeding, pressure to the wound would be largely ineffective.
They were so totally fucked.
“Hero?”
The hero’s lids snapped open. The cloaked figure before them dipped and swayed, but they forced themselves to concentrate. No, that wasn’t their assaulter, that was—
“Villain,” they rasped.
“What are you doing all the way out here?” The villain’s tone was mocking, but could the hero hear a hint of concern?
The hero attempted a sloppy smirk as they approached. “Oh, y’know, just decided to get stabbed and die today. Regular hero shenanigans.” Shit, their words were slurring.
The villain didn’t respond, crouching down in front of them. Their fingers brushed over the throbbing cut on their cheek, ghosted over the bruise on their jaw—it was funny, the hero noted, how the villain's first instinct was to check their face—before trailing down to the still-bleeding wound at their side. Their hand paused.
The silence was so thick that the hero could hear their wavering heartbeat in their ears.
“Who did this to you.” The villain’s words were quiet. Deadly.
The hero choked on a disbelieving laugh. “Like you care,” they wheezed, but even they could hear the doubt in their own voice. When the villain continued to wait for an answer, they added, "One of your lackeys.” Their eyes fluttered as a wave of fatigue overwhelmed them.
The villain snapped their fingers. "Hey, stay with me." They gently removed the hero's limp hand from their side, examining the gash. They swore under their breath.
"That bad, huh," the hero huffed.
“This looks like [other villain]’s work,” the villain muttered. “Destroying your comms, letting you escape with a fatal wound, making you think you’ve gotten away when really,” their eyes slid up to meet the hero’s detached stare, “you’re on the brink of death.”
“How kind of them.”
The villain shook their head. “Why were you even fighting them? They’re superhero’s responsibility. You’re supposed to be going after me.” They paused, gaze darkening. “And only me.”
The hero shrugged minutely. “Agency assignment.” Their muscles clenched as white hot pain rattled through them again, leaving them weaker than ever. “Can you just kill me already? That’s what you came for, isn’t it?” They titled their head back against the wall and closed their eyes, feeling their body grow more distant by the second. “Just fucking do it.”
They heard the villain move, and they waited for the knife against their throat or the gun at their temple, but instead, gloved hands slid under their back and legs, lifting them up.
What? The hero shifted weakly, but the villain shushed them and bundled them closer to their chest.
“No questions. I’ve got you,” the villain murmured, holding them tightly as they sprinted down the alley, making sure they didn’t jostle their injury. “You can sleep now. I’ve got you.”
And the hero, somehow feeling safe in their enemy’s arms and too tired to wonder why they were being saved, succumbed to the pull of unconsciousness not a second later.
.
part two
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furbearingbrick · 4 months
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leaentries · 4 months
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shield | nico hischier
summary: nico is very protective of his girl, so when someone hurts her, he takes it personally.
warnings: protective nico, physical harassment, swearing, slight violent themes
wc: 1.6k+
a/n: another 3am nico fic 🕺 this one’s a lil bit heavier than most of my nico fics, but don’t worry! i have some new spicy things coming up!
the captain’s girl masterlist
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The bar was jammed. Sweaty bodies pressed into every corner of the bricked building, the heat almost unbearable. A door in the back, propped open was your only solace, serving nicely with the winter air wafting in. Although, despite the sticky air and stench of beer, you couldn’t be happier.
You stood by Nico’s side, practically glued to him, not that he would complain. Nico loved the feeling of your body against his, it brought him comfort knowing you were safely tucked away from the world. He was over the moon, still riding the high of tonight’s win. It was a solid win too. Nico got out with a 3-point night, his ego soaring.
Now, you would never admit this sober, but you loved when he got cocky. The way his body demeanor would change and he would have a special swagger in his step. The sexy smirk that never seemed to leave his face every time his gleaming eyes would settle down to yours. It was almost embarrassing the grasp this man had on you, but you loved every second of it. 
His dark shirt clung tightly to his sweaty body, the heat around you two making a visible impression. 
You sat next to him at a table with some of the team, celebrating their win. Seeing the wide smile on Nico’s face made you want to take everything bad in the world and toss it away. That way Nico could smile forever. 
His arm rested on your thigh, corded with thick veins, squeezed slightly, just as reassurance. You squeezed his hand back. 
“You know, I still can’t believe that Merc just left like that! I was in the middle of talking too. What an ass.”
You looked over to where Jack’s voice echoed. His annoyed face set on where Dawson was talking to some girl near the bar. You felt a chuckle rise in your throat, causing you to shove your face into Nico’s arm in an attempt to smother it. 
Nico looked down at you with amused eyes, “What’s so funny, schatzi?”
You let out a breath, shaking your head, “Nothing much, Neeks. Just Jacky.” 
Nico glanced over his shoulder at Jack, who was still complaining to his, very bored, little brother. He nodded his head slowly in understanding. When he turned back to the table, he noticed your tired eyes. 
“You tired, pretty? You’ve been awfully quiet.” 
This was true, but only because you enjoyed watching Nico so much. To you, that was more entertaining than talking. 
“Yep, I’m all good!” You gave him a big smile. Nico searched your eyes for any insincerity but failed to find any. Accepting your answer, he turned back to Holtz, engaging in a spirited conversation about certain plays during the game. 
After half an hour or so, your drink had finally run out, your empty cup now urging to be filled. You nudged Nico’s arm, gaining his attention. 
“I’m gonna go get a refill,” You shook your empty cup, proving your point. 
His brows furrowed, “Want me to come with you?” His eyes flickered to the large number of people, “It’s a bit crowded over by the bar.” 
You smiled at his concern, but denied his request, “No thank you, baby. I’ll be fine.” 
He hesitantly agreed, placing a kiss on your temple and a quick, “Be careful,” as you left. 
Shimmying your way through the dense population proved to be a lot harder than you originally anticipated, getting bumped back and forth violently. By the time you had reached the bar, you could have sworn you had whiplash.
Quickly flagging down a bartender, you ordered your drink and secured a spot to wait. You bit the inside of your cheek, suddenly feeling uncomfortable by the obvious male gazes from every direction. You could only hope that one didn’t have the balls to approach you, but alas, luck wasn’t on your side tonight. 
A lean man, of about 5’8, approached you, clearly too inebriated to be thinking correctly. His scruff was patchy and gross, the tell-tail signs of a failed attempt at growing a beard. His red shirt loosely hung on his body, beer wetting the sides of it. At least, you hoped it was beer. He stumbled into the slot beside you, almost on top of you. 
“Hey, sexy. What’s your name?” His voice was grating, not a sultry tone to be heard. You found yourself repulsed by his presence, now desperately wishing Nico had come with you.
“None of your business, but thanks for asking.” You gave him a snide smile, hoping he would take the very obvious hint that you weren’t interested. 
“Whoa, attitude, missy. I just asked your name.”
“And I don’t care.” You rolled your eyes, the strange man not making an effort to leave.
“Damn, if you’re this feisty all the time, I know a much better way to put that mouth to use.”  
Fear pitted deep in your stomach at the dark look on the man’s face. Needing toi escape, you tried to make a move to leave, but he blocked your way, now caging you to the bar top. Your breath picked up in a panic, frantically searching for someone to help. It was far too loud to call for anyone and everyone around you was already preoccupied with their own conversations. 
Deciding to fight back, you lifted your arm to slap the man who was rapidly approaching you. His hand came up to grip your arm harshly, drawing a hiss from your lips as pain spiked through your wrist. Tears sprung in your eyes as you tried your hardest to free yourself from the man’s body. You felt helpless as your voice died in your throat, shutting your eyes tightly.
You prepared yourself for the worst until you felt the man’s weight abruptly leave. Your eyes shot open, seeing a blur of the man get thrown to the ground. The familiar figure of your boyfriend towered over the cowering stranger. 
Nico reached down, gripping the man’s collar, dragging him to his feet, and slamming him against the nearest wall. 
“What the fuck, do you think you’re doing?” Nico’s eyes were ablaze with fury, a hard look resting on his once-happy face. 
“I-I don’t know man,” The stranger was gasping, obviously terrified of the much larger man holding him to the wall, “I was just trying to get some pussy, like every other guy in the bar.” His meek words only fueled Nico’s anger. 
“Don’t you ever fucking touch my woman like that again. Don’t ever touch any woman like that. You’re a fucking pussy.” Nico’s voice was laced with disgust as he spat at the man. Holtz and Jack rushed over, attempting to pull Nico away. He dropped the guy, worry for you now seeping into his clouded mind. 
Nico was by your side within seconds, pulling your shaking form into his arms. He tucked you under his chin, tightly holding you, “It’s okay, schatzi,” He brought up a hand to cradle your head, “You’re okay. I’m here now, Nico’s here.” 
You let out a slight sob, your arms recoiling into your body as you gingerly held your bruising wrist. Nico pulled away, eyes desperately raking your body to determine the cause of your pain. Once his eyes settled on your wrist, he held out his hand, silently asking to inspect the damage.
Nico felt a new wave of anger take over his body, now practically shaking as he tried his hardest to not go beat the shit out of the guy. The man had hurt you. Hurt his girl. If it were up to Nico, that guy wouldn’t be breathing right now, but fortunately for the stranger, murder is illegal. Nico carefully guided your body to the exit, not bothering to bid goodbyes. 
Only once the two of you hit the cold parking lot and the adrenaline started to wear off, did you fully begin to comprehend the severity of what had happened. A fresh batch of tears formed in your eyes,  sobs rapidly pouring from your lips. Your body shook with the pure force of the cries that pierced their way through Nico’s chest.
He immediately pulled you tightly into his body, making sure to be mindful of your wrist. Nico felt his own tears well up in his eyes at your pain. He hated that he couldn’t help you, but he hated even more that he was in the building when it happened and didn’t get to you soon enough.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” Nico sniffed, “It’s all my fault this happened.” 
You shook your head against his chest, slightly pulling away to look into his deeply saddened eyes, “No, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself for something you couldn’t control.” 
“I knew I should have gone with you. If I was there then he wouldn’t have hurt you.” He looked away biting his lip as he tried not to cry. His broken voice stabbed your heart. It was gut-wrenching to see Nico blame himself for what that man did. 
“Stop, Nico. It was not your fault,” You held his face gently, forcing him to meet your eyes, “Please, stop blaming yourself. I chose to go by myself, that’s not on you.” He opened his mouth to protest, but you were too quick, “Don’t say anything else. Please, for me? Stop.” 
He nodded slowly as tears silently slid down his cheeks. Nico reached up, carefully cradling your wrist that was near his face, leaning to place a sweet kiss on the black and blue splotches.
 “Let me get you home, schatzi. Wanna take care of you.” 
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kcrossvine-art · 1 year
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hi friends! :D y'all voted and fought neck and neck for this SO- heres the first entry into our little cooking journey of J. R. R. Tolkeins fictional food for his fictional little guys he puts in fictional turmoils for our enjoyment and awe!
 Before we get started i wanna say i owe my heart to all the LotR fans who upkeep the wiki, debate the cannon, and create their own versions of the foods mentioned. Both because of my love for people who LOVE (passionate people)(passion about anything) and because my own knowledge of this series is a little dusty. I've never seen the movies but I did read the books growing up. I'll be learning and remembering things from a fairly newbie standpoint, so no worries if you yourself arent familiar with the series! (and if you are familiar, hopefully youll forgive me!)
We will be making Lembas ('waybread') today! If you've made your own version of this please feel free to share it, similarly if you have any ideas for what we make next!
(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)
MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS
SO, “what goes in to Lembas?” YOU MIGHT ASKWell so the funny thing is we kinda dont know. At least not entirely? The elves are dicks like that. But heres what we'll be using in ours-
Butter
Self-rising flour
Granulated Sugar
Raisins
A small dried fruit of your choosing
Almonds OR Pecans
EGG
Whole Milk
Heavy Cream
And if you would like for dipping-
Blackberry jam
To the extent i understand this is kinda like hardtack from the bri'ish military, but a fantastical version of it that actually tastes really good. Hardtack was a military provision with the texture of a brick that took a long time to spoil and could be easily carried with soldiers. So the texture we're going for is super dense, packed full with nuts and fruits (haha just lik-), but perhaps not that dense. We want something closer to a dog biscuit than actual tack.
I remembered something about corn being mentioned, thankfully the wiki clarified that no actually the british just referred to any grain as corn back in the day. Thank Fuck! Although I would like to try a version of this using masa in the future.
AND, “what does Lembas taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK
Took a few tries but eventually got it perfectly chewy and dense
The raisins cook-in like little beads of flavortown sweetness
Cant speak for other fruits but for dried apple it softened up nicely, kinda matching the raisins in the end
Im a big pecan slut, pecans fuck on anything especially here. Crumble them on top after you coat the dough with the egg-mixture for some visual appeal
Somewhat flakey outside
The jam was my idea, it was nice but might be too sweet for some tastes
Would pair very well with a kiwi flavored drink
Or mead
I can see why this would a travelling provision. Its both sugary (a good thing when expending energy) and filling (also a good thing when youre travelling) while not being overwhelming with flavor (if youre prone to motion sickness. Horse sickness? Do get motion sickness on horses?)
Its like how if you're going hiking you want a good mix of sugars and salts, to balance your intake of water.
. If you wanna make it like the illustrations or the movie, use a cookie cutter for either triangles or squares . If you don't have a cookie cutter, an apple cutter also works ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . try to keep the board you'll roll the dough out onto chilled before you use it, it seems better for the texture of the food though i dont entirely know why
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So from beginning to end, it took about an hour and half for the first attempt. Down to about 40 minutes for the second attempt. These are a real simple recipe because its not like a croissant where the margin for error is nonexistent. Middle-earth be damned my boy can work a grill.
I'd recommend storing in a tubberware container, but if you're deadset on using leaves please rinse and dry them first, and wrap the bread in either wax paper or saran wrap underneath. We dont have mallorn leaves in real life (as far as we know) but most salad greens should work, or as Marie Porter says (linked in the reblogs!) a banana leaf.
I really enjoyed the process of making this recipe, itd be really easy to batch-bake these en masse, and the process of eating said recipe. Like all jokes aside, i think this would be a great substitute for trailmix. Its not going to get smushed and even if it breaks a bit it wont affect the taste. It wont keep you fed for a whole day but pair it with some pickles or a salty snack and yeah itll keep your motor running.
I give this recipe a solid 10/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Let me know if you think I got something wrong, or if you ran into issues with the recipe. We're off to a strong start, lads!
🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁
Ingredients:
6 TBSP butter, chilled
2 cups self-rising flour
1 TBSP granulated sugar
½ cup raisins
½ other dried fruit (strawberry slices, oranges, etc.), chopped
Handful of almonds or pecans, chopped
1 egg, well beaten
½ cup whole milk
4 TBSP heavy cream
Method:
Preheat your oven to 400 f.
Cut the butter into slivers/small pieces. With your hands, combine the butter into the flour in a mixing bowl until the mixture resembles coarse sand.
Chop your dried nuts and dried fruit until it feels right.
Mix in the sugar, raisins, nut, and dried fruit of your choosing
In a seperate bowl, beat the egg until combined, and then mix in the milk until combined. Keep a bit of this mixture to brush the tops of the bread.
Stir while adding the egg/milk mixture and the heavy cream into the flour. Mix just until combined into a soft dough.
Knead the dough until firm on a floured surface.
Roll into a half inch thickness and cut with a square or leaf shaped cookie cutter. (...or in my case, an apple corer).
Place on a lightly greased baking sheet, with about an inch of space between each piece. Brush the tops of the lembas with some of the mixture you saved earlier.
Bake for about 15-20 minutes, or until it turns a soft gold and the inside is chewy.
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hyuckiefluff · 9 months
Text
drunk in you | mark lee
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pairing: mark lee x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers word count: 1.9k ish warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, suggestive language, reader is down bad for mark (aren’t we all), implications of drunk sex summary: was Mark Lee’s new haircut really the drop that would tip the glass over and make you spill how you really feel about him?… Well, the haircut and also the alcohol. author's note: i’m backk!! srry for disappearing for *checks calendar* two months lol this has been sitting in my drafts since mark cut his hair aaand i wanted to post it for his bday so let’s pretend im not 3 days late! HAPPY BDAY MARKIEEE <33 it’s a bit short cuz i felt like i’d have to make a second part if i wanted to add smut to yknow fully get into it lol idk but consider this a little teaser and if it doesn’t flop I’ll post a second part :)
part 2
A sudden burst of bright light pierced through your closed eyelids, jolting you awake from the deep sleep you were in. As you gradually became aware of your surroundings, you couldn't ignore the soreness in your muscles and the strange stickiness between your legs. However, it was the foreign hand resting right on top of your ass that sent alarm bells ringing through your mind. Your eyes shot open, and regret instantly washed over you as a pulsating pain hammered at your head.
"What the fuck..." you groaned, attempting to focus your blurry vision and make sense of the situation. Upon looking around, you realized that you were in the guys' dorm, more specifically, in Mark's room...
Then it hit you like a ton of bricks.
If you were in Mark's room, then that hand... and the body it belonged to, had to be...
Oh my god, what happened last night?
8 hours earlier…
Drinking with your friends after a grueling week at uni wasn't anything out of the ordinary for you. In fact, it'd be weirder if you were cooped up at home worrying about midterm grades instead of laughing your head off at whatever Jeno just blurted out. First sign that you were drunk, the boy wasn’t even that funny. His neck and ears were flushed crimson, a clear sign that he, too, had indulged in one too many drinks. And there was Jisung, practically glued to Jeno's side, oozing a whole lot of gooey affection that he would vehemently deny once he sobered up. 
Renjun and Haechan were locked in a heated argument on the floor, their voices rising in the air over some trivial matter that would probably be forgotten by morning. Surprisingly, though, they seemed to be the least intoxicated among you. 
Meanwhile, Jaemin was frantically rummaging through the kitchen, his frustrated groans and curses echoing throughout the room. It was clear that his search for more alcohol was proving to be a fruitless endeavor.
Beside you, Chenle was on his phone, engrossed in a replay of the Warriors game. At first glance he doesn’t look drunk, but you knew better. If he were truly sober, he'd be shouting and cursing at his phone screen, venting his frustrations as his beloved team struggled to keep up. Instead, he was lazily sipping from his nearly empty cup while his glossed over eyes remained glued to the screen.
Mark Lee was the only one missing from the group. You sent him a few voice messages letting him know that if he didn’t arrive in the next 10 minutes you would eat his portion of the kimchi jiggae you’d ordered earlier. He responded within seconds with a funny GIF that showed a man running and tripping.
Mark stumbled through the door just a few minutes later. He was soaked from head to toe, his hoodie covering most of his head. He was panting and his shoes were muddy and wet, he got rid of them in the entrance and looked up, clearly out of breath.  But you were already stuffing your face with his food anyways. Whoops. 
Though as soon as he pulled down the hood a chunk of food went down the wrong pipe. You coughed uncontrollably, your chest heaving as you desperately tried to regain your breath.
"Dude!! Are you seriously eating my food?" he exclaimed.
But when he noticed your struggling state, his words trailed off, replaced by genuine worry. "Yo, are you good?" he asked, walking closer to you and patting you in the back.
You managed to nod weakly, staring up at him. 
"Why’re you so late? Oh, new haircut?" Haechan chimed in from the floor.
"Yeah... what's the verdict?" Mark asked, turning his head to the side to better show off the lines of his undercut, his gaze lingering on you. 
So many thoughts raced through your mind but you were unable to form a single word. Mark had had long hair for quite some time now, and it was you who had encouraged him to let it grow. You enjoyed styling it, braiding it, and adorning it with charms—Mark gave you the freedom to do whatever you pleased with his hair. You had grown fond of his long hair, especially after helping nurse it back to health from the damage caused by bleaching and dyeing. Yet now he was sporting short hair and an undercut with edgy designs on the side, and you couldn't help but openly ogle at him. 
He looked hot as fuck.
It’s true that you harbored feelings for Mark that went beyond friendship but you were always able to hide it well and it worked out better this way for both of you (or that’s what you liked to believe). Needless to say you liked him a lot and had for a while so the sight of his new look had sent your emotions spiraling. He showed up merely minutes ago and you already felt so weak at the knees and your brain was fuzzy even though you hadn’t drank that much yet.
"Don't like it," you muttered, hoping your words would deflect attention from the clear shift in your expression. Turning around, you sought refuge on the couch next to Chenle, placing the bowl of food aside. Your stomach was turning weirdly, making it impossible to swallow another bite.
You scolded yourself inwardly for being so dramatic. It was just a haircut. But, god, he looked so good.
In an attempt to calm yourself down, you chugged your cup with soju and let out a big groan after emptying it. The sound catching Chenle’s attention as he peered curiously from his phone. You offered him a closed-lip smile, prompting an intrigued eyebrow raise from him.
Mark was awkwardly standing on the same spot. He was a bit taken aback by your sudden coldness. He definitely picked up on your strange reaction the moment he walked through the door. But he brushed it off.
"Okaay… Well I was late 'cause I was getting the good stuff," Mark explained, his frown replaced by a grin as he pulled out a beer from the bags he was carrying.
"Let's goooo!" Jaemin yelled, returning from the kitchen right on cue as if he some sort of alcohol detector. He eagerly snatched the bags from Mark and made a kissy face to the boy.
The tension eased a bit with Jaemin's infectious enthusiasm, and you decided to not focus on whatever Mark was making you feel right now. The drinks were here, and the good times were about to roll. You made a mental note to sort out your feelings later.
~
Alcohol definitely did not make your situation better. The more you drank the harder it was to keep your thoughts at bay. Mark was now sitting on the single couch in front of you and every little expression or movement he made had you either biting your lip or pressing your thighs together.
Talking about thighs… the shorts he was wearing displayed his muscular legs in a way that was making it quite impossible for you to not devour them with your eyes. God, your brain had turned into that of a hormonal teenage boy. Were you seriously staring at his thighs and imagining how it would feel to ride them?
Haechan came over to you and filled your glass with more Soju. You downed it as soon as he was done pouring it, earning you a weird look from Chenle who had been eyeing you ever since Mark arrived. 
"Okay, what's with you?" Chenle mumbled, the words escaping his lips just loudly enough to capture everyone's attention. Considering you had the noisiest group of friends, all eyes turned your way, including Mark's.
Mark seemed to be getting tipsy; you could tell by the way his big, expressive eyes shimmered even more than usual and the faint blush that adorned his cheeks and neck.
"Hmm?" you managed to reply, your gaze still fixated somewhere on Mark's face. You were completely unaware of the intense amount of attention you were giving him, but Chenle, who was relatively more sober than both of you, picked up on it.
"You're literally looking at Mark like you want to eat him," Chenle chuckled, teasingly calling you out.
"Yeah, what's up with that?" Renjun asked, suddenly intrigued by the topic.
"I am?" you replied, sounding genuinely confused, though your heart raced with thoughts you were about to voice out loud. "Uhm… yeah I kinda do..."
An audible gasp followed, and you knew without looking that it came from Haechan.
Mark's expression remained unreadable, his half-lidded eyes locked on yours, revealing no discernible emotions. Was he weirded out? Normally, you might have felt self-conscious about blurting out something like that, but alcohol had significantly lowered your inhibitions.
"That's a wild thing to say," Haechan interjected with a mix of shock and amusement. "Do you actually wanna tap that?" He pointed at Mark, who was still gazing at you.
"Very much so," you replied nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather, even though you were openly talking about hooking up with your best friend in front of all your other best friends.
"Why don't you come here then?" Mark's words caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but notice the way he shifted, his legs spread invitingly.
You burst into laughter assuming he was only joking to tease you. However, the lack of a reaction from him made you realize he was dead serious. Your eyes locked on his own, reflecting the same desire you had been giving him just moments ago.
The idea of getting up and walking to him, straddling his lap, and kissing him flashed through your mind.
But the moment was interrupted by a voice that snapped both of you out of your trance. "Gross!" Jisung whined, hiding his face in Jeno's back, the older one lazily laughing and patting Jisung's thigh. "Okay, c'mon, I think we've all had enough to drink," he declared, getting up, with Jisung clinging to him. Chenle follow suit also giving you two a slightly disgusted stare.
"Yeah, one more drink for me, and I'm afraid the kimchi jiggae I had earlier might end up all over the carpet," Haechan chimed in, rubbing his stomach before disappearing upstairs.
Renjun also stood up and playfully messed up Mark's hair while saying, "By the way, happy birthday."
You glanced at the table clock and realized it was already 12:01. You had been so excited about Mark's birthday earlier in the day, but the alcohol and the tension between the two of you made you totally forget about it. Gathering your courage, you approached him. He remained sprawled with his legs out, but now he looked up at you, his lips slightly wet, distracting you momentarily.
"Happy birthday, silly," you smiled and awkwardly patted his head, hoping he didn't notice how you pressed your thighs together, trying to ease the uncomfortable ache between your legs.
"What did you get me?" he suddenly asked, and you blinked a few times, your brain struggling to register the extremely flirtatious tone he used.
When you didn't respond immediately, he continued, "Because I can think of one thing I want the most right now," lightly grazing your leg with his hand. You didn't flinch or move away.
"R-really? What is it?" you found yourself stuttering, a reaction that would have made you cringe if you were more sober.
"Come here, and I'll show you," he smirked and with little protest from you, he pulled you onto his lap.
a/n: i have a smut scene ready for this (well it’s in my brain but I’ll squeeze it out if u guys want that second part) soooo comment or simply like this so i know the audience wants it
also yes i did change the title of this but pls disregard that lol
© hyuckiefluff
part 2
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ms-demeanor · 2 years
Text
So a bathroom at my dad's house had some superficial damage to the walls and door, and I can't really afford to fix it right now but I don't want to look at the holes and such. So I looked up "DIY Spackle" and patched the smaller holes with what is, essentially, play-doh. That took care of some of the problem, but then I looked at how much doors cost and I was like 'fuck that' and looked up how much wallpaper costs, because I figure we'll replace it eventually but in the mean time I can at least literally paper over the problem.
So I was looking through various peel-and-stick wallpaper options and found a few patterns I liked but wallpaper is actually kind of expensive too. I settled on a few fairly affordable options, then asked Large Bastard to help me pick out a pattern. I was pleasantly surprised when he immediately decided he liked the cheapest pattern, so I ordered it.
Well, Large Bastard had to go out of town for a week so I was at the house by myself and I started putting up the wallpaper. Putting up peel-and-stick wallpaper appears to kind of be a two-person job, so I didn't do a great job of it, especially because the walls I was putting it on were kind of wonky shapes, so the pattern isn't perfectly matched and in some places I had to cut out 'stickers' of wallpaper to cover places where there was a bad overlap. It took a few hours, but I basically got the job done, and then I realized I had a bunch of leftover wallpaper and a wall that still had some big, obviously-crudely-spackled holes, but they were clustered together so I went to the thrift store and found a big frame with a mat and framed a chunk of the wallpaper and hung it up to cover the holes, because I figured that would be kind of a funny way to take care of that problem. Then I went a little overboard, and wrapped some of the wallpaper around the trash can because fuck it, why not, it was just a plain black trash can. I also swapped out the bath mats for one I had originally gotten for the master bath because it matched this bathroom better (you have no idea how much shit I own that is blue and teal; I love teal so much and I own way too much teal and if I'm attempting to be a toned-down, normal-ish person I'll go with a more sedate blue, so we have a lot of blue blankets and sheets and towels and kitchen towels and pillows, etc., but I haven't done anything to the master bath so it's still painted like my dad had it).
So Large Bastard gets home last night and I'm like "hey I finished the bathroom, you should check it out." And he walks into the bathroom and he starts fucking *cackling* and then he sees the framed wallpaper and he starts laughing harder and then he sees the trash can and the bath mat and keeps going and I'm like???????????
And he's like "this is fucking perfect, it looks like a Wolfenstein level, I love it, I had no idea it would look this funny."
Because the wallpaper pattern that I was a bit hesitant to add to my list of options, but was cheap and was in a color that I like, was blue bricks.
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Which he picked specifically because "wouldn't it be funny if our bathroom referenced a video game?"
And the answer is "yes" but also goddamnit.
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partycatty · 2 months
Note
You're my favorite writer and I'm a Sucker for Johnny Cage x Himself from Mk11.... please?
okay, so lovingly, i don't feel comfortable directly writing johnny x himself... but i can do you one better?
johnny cage > two for one
the timelines collapse, leaving you in the face of new era and previous era johnny. you're not quite sure how you ended up in this situation, but their hungry stares are undeniable.
warnings: smut.. idk theyre frotting bro idk what else to say. ur rubbing their schmeats together. kissin tips. lockin cocks. diddlin dongs.
notes: THIS IS MK1 JOHNNY ("johnny") X MK11 YOUNGER JOHNNY ("cage") X READER!!! NO DILF HERE!!!
[ masterlist ]
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a swirling tornado of sand interrupted your meeting with liu kang and his recruited earthrealmers, pulling into view several faces you had not met before. one of which being a man bearing a large chest tattoo of "JOHNNY," and you could only assume it was his name. as well as him came others you were later taught were counterparts to some of your companions, namely thunder god raiden, monk kung lao, and a mortal liu kang. a part of you was filled with dread for now knowing not one, but two johnnys.... johnnies? another part, though, was intrigued, if not horribly flustered.
as time went on, you had to spend more and more time around these newcomers as well as your people. your johnny was always clinging to you, or lingering near you but dear god this new johnny was like a lost puppy with a raging boner. his comments, flirtatious advances, and feather touches were driving you up a wall. he was testosterone humanized.
you couldn't deny that your johnny was dizzying in essence, from his charisma to the way his form hugs his clothes deliciously. but, dear lord, this new johnny was a hunk. he was huge in every way imaginable, and you tensed up when they were both in your presence. this all came to a head when you were attempting to work on your reports, but the alternate timeline johnny - the one in which you've started calling "cage" out of formality - couldn't keep his hands to himself. this particular instance, you were trying to inspect a map outstretched on the table, and cage was looming directly behind you, placing his hands on either side of you and effectively trapping you against the table. you tried so hard to ignore it, but his musk and faint cologne made your eyes gloss over with desire.
that is, until johnny strode over to the scene and ripped cage from your proximity, aiming an accusatory finger in his face.
"listen man," johnny was irritated, perhaps suspiciously more than normal. "lay off, yeah? she's trying to figure out how the hell we can send you back to whatever timeline you came from."
"don't you touch me," cage snarled in response, squaring up. he was only a couple inches taller than johnny, but his size was almost double. "i'm a star."
"and? so am i!" johnny shouts back with a groan. as the bickering picks up, you couldn't help but watch in amusement. but then, the insults become less funny when johnny grabs cage's purple sunglasses and stomps on them with a huff. cage frowns.
"ladies-" you interject, standing between the two brick walls of men. "you're both pretty." and so, the two men feel obligated to listen to you. you shoot a glance at johnny, silently scrutinizing his behavior. instead of just taking your scolding, johnny grabs you by your upper arm and drags you into a broom closet. god damn, they wore the same cologne. the closeness was nearly too much, combined with johnny's admittedly sexy scowl.
"why are you letting him manhandle you like that? you don't know him." johnny asks under his breath, towering over you as he holds your arms.
"what do you care?" you're almost offended at his tone, but then it all clicks. johnny's defensive of you, protective. hell, he's jealous... of himself. this realization makes a smile bloom on your face, and johnny immediately knows what you're beginning to understand.
who said you could only choose one of them?
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
all it took on cage's end was one sultry stare, and he was sauntering toward the broom closet and locking it behind him. it was incredibly hard to think straight when both men's hands were groping and grasping at your body. in any other universe, you'd be dazed and confused from seeing double, but in this universe you're heated and dizzy from the two hard-ons rubbing into your body. one clothed cock was fitted and gently rutting into your hand, being johnny's. his needy groans and pants were swallowed by your own mouth as you made out with his plush lips. cage settled for your ass, grinding against it with equally needy grunts and breaths that haunted the back of your neck. when you pulled away from the kiss, you noticed johnny's already fucked out expression, his swollen lips parted as he tries pathetically to catch his breath.
"pl... please," he breaths out, voice barely audible over your gentle whimpers and cage's groans. "you don't know how long i've wanted your mouth on my... fuck." his head lolls back as you wrap your fingers around his cock, feeling it throb and twitch hungrily.
"make us feel good, baby," cage grumbles, slapping the side of your thigh. "on your knees, come on." obeying like a dog, you drop to your knees with a harsh bump, but you'll worry about the pain later. cage is already unleashing his cock from the constraints of his pants, palming himself through his boxers. johnny does the same, but couldn't bring himself to wait any more as his dick slings out of his slacks, nearly slapping your cheek when he twitches.
you decide to play the cruel game, denying johnny of what he's borderline begging for, his wet eyelashes fluttering at the sight of you on your knees for him, and... other him. speaking of which, you turn your head and wrap your lips around cage's cock, hollowing your cheeks and gently sucking down on his weeping tip. bobbing your head only a couple inches to tease, cage groans and watches johnny writhe for release.
"what's the matter?" cage taunts a slackjawed johnny. "jealous?" johnny bites down on his lower lip and nods wildly, cheeks flushed and averting eye contact. "hey, hey, ah-" cage tuts. he reaches over and grabs johnny by the neck, angling his face forward. "look at me while she sucks me off." and so johnny does, desperately whimpering and gasping as he watches cage's expression contort when you take his cock fully in your mouth, gagging as you reach the base. his other hand reaches down and holds your head in place, your lips burning from the stretch of the thickness. sure, they were both packing, but cage's was thick while johnny's was long.
your fingers found your cunt, swiping three available fingers across your folds and gathering the wetness before searching for johnny's cock and stroking as best as you can from this angle. his precum mixed with your slick allowed you to slide across easily. your head and torso were angled toward cage as you stretched your arm to jerk johnny off properly. both are now breathing heavily, and you only get to look up for a moment to notice cage's hand around johnny's neck, their intense eye contact having you wonder if you were even needed. clearly you were though, as they're both tensing and moaning at your pleasure.
fighting against cage's hand on the back of your head, you pull off of his cock with a pop and swap your attention, now jerking off cage while blowing johnny. the sudden onslaught of wet warmth makes johnny whine as he bucks into your throat, catching you off guard as you gag once again.
"ngh - sorry," he pathetically apologizes, only looking down at you for a moment. if he looked for any longer, he might just cum there and then. "m'sensitive."
"yeah you are," cage snarls, eyes clenching shut as he focuses on the pleasure. "god, you've got yourself a fuckin' whore in this timeline, don'tcha? you like sharin', johnny?" cage grabs your hair and tugs it lightly, and you hum an agreement against johnny's dick that makes him gasp as he nods along. johnny's warm, wet tip is seeping precum that places a salty taste on your tongue while it traces every vein.
cage's purring degrading comments and praises are lost to your hazy mind, too focused on pleasing the cocks in your face. you manage to pick up a few things about how good you look like this, and how cute they make them in this timeline. of course johnny would be attracted to himself, of course. this, thankfully, gives you an idea.
"hold on," you remove your lips from johnny and he involuntarily bucks into your face at the loss of pleasure. "can we try something?"
the two men exchange dubious glances, but their low lids and parted lips tell you they'd agree to anything you'd ask of them right about now. they nod simultaneously and you rise with a grin, wiping your mouth. each hand finds a dick and picks the stroking up again, trying to keep them heated and eager. one thing you pick up on quickly is that for as much smack as they talk, they're both desperately close from a few touches alone, bucking and whining into your hands. cage's cocky attitude has washed away and mirrored johnny's as they both submit to your touch. just as you feel them getting desperate, clawing at any part of your clothes or skin they could make contact with, you tug them together. cage leans against the wall, and johnny leans against a large equipment crate, gripping the corners.
you guide their dicks together until their undersides brush up on each other, making them both jolt in surprise. clasping your hands in a wide hoop, you resume your stroking, this time with both of their cocks trapped in your grasp. the messy mixture of fluid creates a wet noise as you glide up and down their touching cocks. johnny, as always, can't contain his desire and begins to rut into your hand, rubbing against cage's dick in the process. cage picks up on the idea, and the two men rub their cocks together as your hands stroke around them.
"holy-" cage slaps a hand over his eyes, groaning as his head tilts back. it's clear in all of his time, frotting was never something on his list. neither for johnny. "this... it's too much, doll."
"god - ffngh... it's supposed to feel like that," johnny interjects breathlessly, hips bucking up sloppily. his chin touches his chest as he hopelessly chases his high. "come on, no way you've - ahh - never done this. keep-keep moving-" a sharp hiss escapes his throat when you rub your thumb over his slit.
their thighs clench and their bucking becomes wild and it could be clear to anyone that they're extremely close. you also realize that they're entirely getting off on each other, whining every time their tips catch on each other. cage tightens his grip on johnny's neck and clenches his thigh with his other, while johnny is death gripping the box as he shakes and writhes.
"you can do it," you mutter encouragements to the men as their thrusts stutter. "talked so much before, where is it now, boys? you were doing so good..."
johnny couldn't take another second of the pleasure mixed with your praises, and with a final jolt, his thighs twitch as he cums, shooting ropes of his semen on both your hands and cage's cock. the cum coating his own cock got cage going just enough to finish shortly after, both of them spasming as semen drips down your hands. there was so much, and it felt so warm against your skin as they both whimpered and groaned curses and praises aimed at you and the other man. you lean down and place your lips around their tips, attempting to catch the final spurts as they dripped out. licking up their shafts to collect what you could, they simultaneously hiss at the overstimulation of their sensitive dicks, twitching and trying to pull away from your ruthless grip.
"alright, alright, fucking hell..." cage whines, pulling away with a harsh tug. his breath feels far away, impossible to recollect as he watches johnny shield his face with his arm, skin flushed and sweaty as his dick continues to throb in your hand.
they both reel seeing you lick your fingers, placing them in your mouth and sucking gently, lashes fluttering at how good - and similar - they tasted. johnny finally catches his breath and is the first one to properly speak up.
"someone's probably looking for us," he breathes, trying to fix his dress shirt with sweaty palms. "we... we should get back out there."
"right," you hum as your fingers are pulled from your mouth. "we were... in the middle of fixing all this."
"i dunno," cage smirks, crossing his arms. "i kind of like it here. i got two pretty things to keep me busy."
"don't make it weird," johnny groans, head lolling to the side as he stretches. "don't do that."
"how is that weird?" cage puts his hands on his hips.
oh lord, here they go ahead. maybe another round would shut them up.
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satyricplotter · 24 days
Text
The motorcycle roars for all of two seconds before the engine splutters to a halt, silky rumbling replaced for pitiful heaving. His groaning is funny to watch, even more so when he knocks into his tool case and said tools go flying out. Jason lets out a long chain of expletives as he bends down to pick them up, and you have to hide a smile before you approach.
You roll your eyes and go help. "Gosh, you're so crass."
"Me?" He asks incredulously, eyes flicking at you when you crouch in front of him. "Your favourite noun is motherfucker. I don't think you got any ground to stand on."
"I can say that because I'm tiny and adorable, and nobody cares. Meanwhile, you're 6'4'', built like a brick shithouse and your eyes glow in the dark. People shit themselves when you call them bitch."
Jason pauses, his (admittedly strong and rugged and dirty) hands resting on the case. He gives you a long, assessing look, as though he's trying to ascertain something. Then he breaks into a smirk and continues picking up his shit.
"I'll give you short. I'll even give you adorable," he mocks, and you narrow your eyes at him. He's about to pull some bullshit—"but don't you think tiny is pushing it?"
Bastard.
You level him with a flat look. "Did you just call me fat?"
Jason shrugs simply. "Aren't you?"
"You're such a fucking asshole," you sneer, leaning forward to rap your knuckles against his forehead.
Jason catches your wrists before you can make contact, pulling you forward so that you stumble and shriek your way right onto... his lap. Of course. He leans back with a shit-eating grin, one hand keeping your wrists together, the other smearing car oil on the waistband of your trousers. That same hand slides down to cup the curve of your hip and over your ass. He squeezes, the warmth of his hand seeping through the thin fabric, and rests it there. His long fingers carefully cradle your cheek, curious and impatient. Their placement—the proximity—is in itself an exhilarating suggestion. A promise.
"Never said it wasn't hot," he says, a little roughly.
You huff, flattered despite yourself. The toolbox is turned on its side, everything scattered back on the floor. You seize that tiny fact in an attempt to regain your composure. "I'm not picking that up."
Jason smiles, lips hovering right above yours. When he speaks, you feel it against you. "Neither am I."
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