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husbandhoshi · 2 months

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[9:47 AM] *suggestive

the first thing you learn about seungcheol is that his towels are embroidered. csc, they read, in gold thread on absurdly plush bath towels.

(actually, the first thing you learned about him was that he's a good kisser. you learned this the hard way, outside the bar, after all your friends had gone home and it just was you, him, and his tongue in your mouth.)

as a rule, you try not to learn anything about your late night escapades, but, evidently, you have already failed.

it's easy to notice his bathroom looks much bigger than it did last night, now that all the lights are on. he has not one, but two, matching rugs, and the sconce lights make the marble countertop look like it's made of water. nestled in the corner is a little tray with all his cologne lined up end to end—armani, dior, chanel.

you pick up the silvery one on the end and smell the cap. (yes, this one. he was wearing this one last night, right in the space where his collarbone met the base of his neck. you had kissed him there, and he had asked you to go home with him. creed, aventus, it says.)

he even has the drunk elephant moisturizer, although it looks criminally underused. it sits among a small pile of skincare that looks like it costs twice your monthly paycheck, if you had worked overtime.

you have to remind yourself you're not here to snoop through rich people's bathrooms, as fun as that sounds.

seungcheol was a quick fuck (and a really good one at that), but you already feel like you've overstayed your welcome.

the plan—in and out. you hate the sticky, too-warm goodbyes, the small talk at the kitchen table, the unexpected rattle of a roommate coming home. worst of all, they never want you as badly in the morning as they did the night before.

but the plan has already gone to shit. you woke up practically spooning him and your little bathroom detour cost you ten minutes. and it's almost 10, which is what he has his two-hundred dollar alarm clock set to.

you shut the bathroom door as quietly as you can, hoping to make a quick getaway. but it's here, caught in the waxy overcast from the huge windows, where, for the first time in your life, you almost want to say fuck the plan.

"morning," seungcheol hums, propping himself up on the bed. you take one look at him, shirtless and sweats slung low, and you lose the plot entirely.

yesterday, when you had met, it looked like he was made in some kind of factory for hot men—starched white shirt rolled to the forearms, hair perfectly gelled, and a fat breitling watch hugging his wrist. and yet, as you watch him blow a cowlick out of his eyes, he seems even more attractive, which you would have never thought possible.

"someone's eager to get outta here," he says, enjoying the way you avoid his eyes. "don't tell me it was that bad for you."

you smile nervously. what you can remember about last night is that it was anything but bad. the whole thing makes your face feel hot—you are no prude, but he sure makes you feel like one.

"is that what it looks like?" you answer. you realize you can't find your shoes. you think he threw them somewhere last night, between the memory of his hand up your dress and yours in his hair. he kissed his way up your legs and you forgot you even had shoes to worry about.

"almost, if you weren't checking me out just now."

damn. guilty as charged. you can't help it. things feel too good to be true.

first, you learned you got fucked by a million dollar dick last night. now, instead of kicking you out like any other one night stand, he's acting decent, maybe even more than decent. and he has the tits of a god.

seungcheol sees your face wrench up in puritanical shame and he laughs.

"well, if you have time in your busy, busy schedule," he starts, with a grin that makes you dizzy. "i'm making breakfast. and i would love to eat it with you."

suddenly you don't know why you ever had a plan in the first place. you watch him attempt to wink at you from all the way across the room and you think getting to know him might not be such a bad thing after all. maybe things are too good to be true, but you're willing to find out.

needless to say, the second thing you learn about seungcheol is that he cannot cook.

the third? he's an even better kisser sober.

#GUNSHOTS.#this was supposed to be cute but i made it horny. sorry #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol smut #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #mine #rq

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dmitriene · 1 month

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THOUGHTS ABOUT SIMON GETTING HIS NIPPLES PIERCED BY YOU.

cw: fluff, comfort, little suggestive possibly, piercing, mild description of blood, possible lack of dialogues, hints of strangers to lovers, simon is a tease, may be ooc simon, bit of tension. pairing: simon ghost riley x piercer fem reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

the tart aroma of wood and coffee, the crackle of disposable gloves, things that routine of work in a tattoo and piercing parlor brings with itself, a designated place with large, wide, blacked out windows, located along the street, in general view, but without too much influx of visitors.

quiet and calm routine, filled with warm conversations with colleagues and people leaving and coming, someone to do something new, someone to redo something old, everyone in one way or another gathers in this small, but warm and bright place.

at least that's how it was, until a figure appeared in the parlor, casting a wide shadow in the room and causing all conversations and movements to lead to the halt.

a broad body to match the tall stature, prominent muscles tight but not completely under a black clothes and a balaclava that causes both misunderstanding and slight fear, black fabric with a skull pattern revealing only the dark beads of the eyes, which seizing the room with quick glance before going to the reception.

he looks like one of those men who come to the salon for a tattoo session, something memorable for them, the names of comrades, important names and numbers associated with the army, exactly, guys resembling him often serve in the army, but if they are usually bright and cheerful youngsters, then this one is a breath of darkness so thick, that you can't see anything behind.

— “not my business anyway, he's here likely to have a tattoo, and he's already have one„ you're comforting yourself in your head, after all, you're doing piercings, and he's obviously come to get another tattoo, maybe dilute the already existing sleeve of skulls, or something on the other arm, definitely not for you, so you keep yourself busy cleaning your workplace, ignoring the literal storm behind your back.

— “i'm here for a piercing appointment, nipples, called abou' a week ago„

and that's the tipping point when you can't ignore the elephant in the room, you jerk your head just as he turns around and shamelessly looks at you, from head to toe and back in a burning path that makes you shiver, squinting his bottomless eyes until small wrinkles form, while your colleague behind the wooden counter points at you, letting him know that you are indeed his master for today, and he came for you.

— “simon„ he introduced himself with a hoarse chuckle when you addressed him with unexpected respect, «sir» you called him, asking him to lift his shirt to expose his chest, to which he complied without further words, flexing his biceps with next movements.

simon leans back on a leather, hydraulic chair, spreading his muscular legs, as he lift his shirt, exposing the pale skin with a scattering of scars of all kinds, a picture that confirms your suspicions that he belongs to the army, but you dare not mutter, nor ask a single question, on the contrary of how you usually do, only preparing the needle and silently stand in front of him.

he doesn't twitch or hiss when the needle first pierces the sensitive buds, causing them to harden visibly, pale pink in contrast to the fair skin that lets out small drops of blood that you gently wipe as you touch the fresh piercings, and he doesn't even raise an eyebrow, but stares intently at your downcasted eyes.

the metal jewelry gleams slightly under the white light, playing against the background of his skin in a mixed way, he looks even more intimidating with them, but also adding a touch of something hot to his look, seductive, thoughts that you quickly brush away with a nervous flick of your tongue over your slightly parched lips.

— “that's, umh.. that's all, we're finished„ you let him know, trying to control the frown of your eyebrows, the strange struggle with your own emotions as he hides the fresh piercing behind the black fabric of his tight shirt and stands up, giving you a gentle nod and a seemingly unleavened squint.

he pays in front of the same counter that you can watch from your workplace, taking out the pre-rolled cash and giving it to your colleague, before leaving as unexpectedly as he came.

that's when you remember that you didn't give him your contact number.

of course, if something really happens to his piercing in the future, he can find your contact details through the number of parlor himself, but your feet carry you to the exit faster than rational thoughts, the cardboard card is tightly clenched in your hand as you unlock the heavy door, and practically slam into his back.

simon is just in time lighting the tip of his cigarette with a lighter, pursing his pale, thin lips into a line, showing the lower part of his face with a balaclava raised to his nose, turning at you with raised eyebrows, hiding the lighter in his pocket and exhaling a puff of smoke, tilting his head to the side questioningly, until you hand him an embarrassedly crumpled business card.

— “my.. my number.. if something would happen to the piercings, or if you'll have questions, you know..„

you hurriedly explain, as if making excuses, denying the strange attraction that pulls you to this stranger, and his lips part in a wide grin, showing a row of his light teeth and fangs, before he reaches out his broad hand and with a fleeting brush of his fingers against yours, takes the business card, hoarsely, amusingly adding — “of course, don'' worry, lass, i'll call you if something, eh?„

after which, he walks away, showing you his broad, gradually disappearing back, leaving you on the threshold of parlor with a strange, unsettling sensation at the bottom of your chest.

but he'll call you, for sure, maybe he'll have to take them off when he gets back to base for a mission, ask if you can check if the piercings are closed up, maybe he'll even lose the jewelry, but his legs will definitely lead him back to you, or he'll dare to do something more risky with his body, just to feel your warm hands all over his body and even between his legs.

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lovelybucky1 · 1 year

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Kinktober Day 28-Sex Pollen

warnings: gender neutral!reader, dubcon, sex pollen, TGM spoilers, mentions of injury, mentions of semi-public sex, 18+ minors dni

kinktober masterlist

main masterlist

When you heard the news that Bradley and Maverick went down behind enemy lines, you were devastated. Your heart sank and you felt sick to your stomach, like your whole life was just ripped away from you and left you standing there, cold and empty.

When you heard the news that they were flying back to the carrier in an old F-14 after Jake saved them, you and your fellow pilots celebrated. Jumping, cheering, high fives, a few chest bumps here and there. A seemingly impossible mission completed with some difficulty, but no casualties.

The boys landed and you tried to push your way through the crowd to get to Rooster, but you couldn’t make it through the dense swarm. You watched from a distance as Bradley and Maverick hugged, and Jake and Bradley shook hands and shared a warm smile. It warmed your heart to see the connection your boyfriend has built with both men in these last few weeks.

Bradley finally makes it out of the crowd and spots you. As he’s walking over, his smile seems to fade and it’s like someone has dropped an elephant on his back.

“Baby,” he groans as he throws himself into your arms.

You hug him tightly, but he doesn’t hug you back. He’s limp in your hold, dead weight threatening to topple you over.

“What’s the matter?” you ask, figuring it’s a dumb question but you might as well ask.

Bradley pulls back from the hug and you see his eyes, droopy and rimmed with red. His lips are parted just slightly and he seems to be breathless.

“Need you,” he whispers.

Your brows furrow. “What?”

“Need you so bad. It fucking burns, honey. Please… we gotta find somewhere soon because I can’t take it anymore.” His voice has a desperate edge to it, like he really is in pain, so you grab his hand and lead him away from the crowd.

After a short walk, you find a secluded closet and you pull Bradley into it. You shut the door and almost instantly, your back is being pressed firmly into it.

“What happened?” you ask.

“Mav and I… we got into somethin’. Don’t know what it was but it made me feel awful. I felt so sick and then…”

“Then what?”

“God, I got so hard,” he groans.

Your eyes widen and you look down to see the sizable bulge in your boyfriend’s pants. You trail your fingertips over it and his hips buck, desperate searching for more friction.

“Oh, Bradley… how long have you been like this?”

“Feels like days. Mav and I were trying to start up the F-14 and there was some power that blew into my face and Jesus Christ I think I’m gonna die.”

You wrap your arms around his waist and pull him close in what was meant to be a hug, but he took it as an opportunity to rub himself against your hip.

“Everything hurts so bad. My throat itches, my head is pounding, and I’m so fuckin’ hot.”

You manage to unzip his flight suit a little to find his black t-shirt underneath soaked through with sweat. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and holds you as close as he possibly can.

“Didn’t realize how bad it was until we landed. Saw you and it got even worse. Fuck, baby, I need to fuck you. Need to feel you around my cock or I swear to god I’m gonna lose my mind.”

You nod quickly and scramble to think about how you can help him. You’re not really one to have sex in public, but if it’s between your modesty and your boyfriend’s life…

“Fuck me, Bradley.”

if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging. engagement had been down recently due to tumblr’s new censorship of fanfiction that includes smut, and i want to be able to share my work with as many people as possible. if you want to be tagged in future fics, fill out the form for my taglist found on my pinned post. thank you for reading <3

#top gun #bradley bradshaw #rooster #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x female reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster x f!reader #bradley bradshaw x f!reader #top gun smut #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #kinktober 2022

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donotpush · 10 months

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Bumpin' in Europe, 2

second part is here. it's been quite a while, so you might want to check part 1 here :) ALSO, some anons have sent asks with suggestions and stuff about the story, just know that i write them all down and i'll keep them in mind for the future ;)

“Yeah. Just tired. And hot. I mean, it's hot in here…”

So hot in here. You finally spoke, able to spit out a few cohesive words before cleaning your throat as your eyes wandered around the room, avoiding the woman in front of you. A safe one, talk about the weather.

“I haven't seen you in years! You’re all grown up now…” Monica said. “Your mom doesn’t really tells me much about you, but she’s right when she says you’re good looking”

Okay, you know what? There was nothing out of the ordinary in saying the truth, telling her she looked good, right? Everyone loved a compliment from time to time, and being kind was always cool.

“I look different, yeah. But you…” your words lingered in the air, and you waved your hand once again, this time pointing at her middle, tilting your head to emphasize the point. “You look different. I mean, you look amazing… congratulations on the baby.”

She got the point, and the ghost of a smile lingered on her lips for a moment before she looked down at her middle, her hand rubbing her stomach mindlessly. At least the elephant in the room was gone.

“Uh? You mean this?” Looking up at you, she frowned. “Oh. No, I'm not pregnant.”

You lifted your gaze from where it was fixed on the floor, and you swear you could almost feel the color draining from your face as your eyebrows raised and you stammered. Then, she laughed, throwing her head back.

“Just kidding, don't worry” she breathed, “Oh, look at you, poor thing. Of course I'm pregnant…”

Walking next to you with a promptitude that surprised you, all smooth and almost graceful movements, she leaned to grab a mug from the shelf on top of you. Standing on her tiptoes to reach Monica let out a small gasp as she did a visible effort to reach. Her shirt lifted, revealing a bit of her belly that was now right next to your face, and you found yourself with your eyes locked on the sink in front of you as if it were the most interesting thing in the room.

As she moved back, her hand rested on your shoulder for support before she briefly caressed your cheek with a reassuring laugh before she walked back towards the sink.

“Terribly pregnant…” she glanced at you over her shoulder before turning sideways and patting her stomach gently. “Twins, actually. Want some coffee?”

She dropped the fact as if it was nothing, an everyday thing. But you already knew that that was twins, you were just waiting for the official confirmation, and you couldn't help but bite your lip slightly at the thought.

“You and the father must be excited,” you said, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. It came out more like a question than anything else. “You both are, right? I mean… kid's always a blessing or whatever."

“Out of the picture,” she clicked her tongue, raising her eyebrows, but the tone was nonchalant. “In fact, I’m not even sure who the father is. Not that I care either way”. She paused for half a second before continuing, her fingers caressing distractedly her stomach, "We're fine as we are. They say three's a crowd".

Oh. For you, that only meant two things. First, Monica wasn’t taken. Not understandable. Who wouldn’t want to marry a woman like that?

And second, the way her tone was light and her face remained straight, free from all shame or from trying to keep a fake modesty as she spoke about who the baby’s daddy was, made you think that she was as sexually liberated as she looked.

Not like she would lack any chances of having a satisfactory sexual life. Even right now, with that heavily pregnant frame that seemed to be the only thing you could notice about her, you doubted she lacked admirers.

Men, women, you were sure she didn’t lack people that would want to share a bed with this woman.

With the last phrase, she turned to look over her shoulder to wink at you. A smirk played upon her lips before she looked away, bending over to pick up a bunch of bed sheets, and you stared at the back of her legs for a moment, your eyes wandering over to her ass.

"Oh, Monica, don't bother," you snapped out of your dumbfounded state as you rushed up to her, ready to help. “Let me take this." You grabbed two bundles of bedsheets from her arms, and after a moment of hesitation, she nodded silently in approval.

“Ah, darling, that's alright, I do love working on my own… but thank you,” She smiled back as she started walking towards the guest bedroom, with you following behind. "As much as I try to deny it, it's been getting harder and harder with this always on the way," she motioned towards the gravid bulge of her stomach. "Good thing you're here. Could use some help with a few things…" she finished, biting her lip and getting lost in thought for a moment.

You nodded slowly, letting out a small chuckle and scratching the side of your neck. The sound made you cringe internally. Well, at least you were having fun this far.

You helped her to tidy the bedroom a bit and soon you had a far better place to sleep than a room shared with a bunch of strangers.

You found yourself admiring the view outside as the sun started to set behind the mountains in the distance. The heat was starting to die down, but there was still that smell of summertime in the air, and you didn't remember the last time you sat outside like this.

"You will like it here" Monica interrupted your thoughts, startling you. "I know it seems a bit boring. But you have the beach, the food is great… you can go clubbing. There's a lot of people your age around."

You took the glass of lemonade in your hand and pressed it against your neck, leaning back into the chair before turning to stare at the woman.

She took a sip of her own drink, and you watched as she placed the glass on top of her protuberant stomach. Your breath caught in your throat as she leaned back distractedly, and lifted her shirt, placing the glass against the bare skin of her belly.

Monica sighed contently, her eyes closing, and you followed the trajectory of a drop of sweat from the glass that slid down her abdomen, running over her belly button before it disappeared on her waistline.

"So" she exhaled, turning to look at you. "What plans do you have for tonight?"

#birth kink #pregnancy #pregnancy fantasy #fpreg #stories #polls #labor #interactive #episode interactive #BIE

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humansofnewyork · 1 year

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(9/15) “Every Santa gets a handler: to walk him to his chair, to bring him water, to give him Tic Tacs. But nothing in Santaland is called by its actual name. Santa handlers are called straw bosses. It’s an old circus term, for people who handle the elephants. I made sure that my straw boss knew: when the Tammaro family arrives, bring them straight to my house. My son came bounding in first. He was four years old. He jumped in my lap and started telling me his list. But in the middle he stops, and says: ‘Hey! You sound like my Daddy!’ I started to panic. That’s when my brother Steve stepped in. He said: ‘It doesn’t sound like your Daddy, Jack.’ And I made it through the rest of the visit. But I never risked it again. I didn’t want to ruin the magic. Jack would write these letters to Santa. He never went straight to the toys. He’d write things like: ‘How is your wife? Are the reindeer OK? Did you go on vacation?’ Only then would he get to the list. He had such empathy. I like to think we had something to do with it. The way we are at home. We don’t like to argue. We keep it calm, cool, and collected. We have this thing called ‘Family Sandwich.’ One day Tabatha and I were hugging in the kitchen, and Jack came running up behind us, and hugged us both. He screamed ‘family sandwich!’ And it stuck. We still do it today. I was never a sports dad. But that’s ok, because he wasn’t a sports kid. We loved doing legos. In the beginning he’d just watch me do them. But as he got a little older, we started doing them together. The holidays were always rough for me. It was the busiest time a year at both my jobs, so I’d barely be home. Jack and I would be watching a holiday movie on the couch, his head on my chest, and I’d have to get up to go to work. He’d pull me down by the shirt and say: ‘Don’t go.’ He knew that I worked at Macy’s during Christmastime. But I told him that I worked in Men’s shoes. I told him that I needed the extra money to buy everyone presents. Every day when I started my shift at Santaland, I’d take a little lego Santa that we’d built together, and I’d place it on the shelf. All the elves knew. The lego Santa, that was Jack. It was to remind me of my boy.”

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taylorswiftstylequestions · 3 days

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omfg i'm sorry to rant but i NEED a sympathetic person to hear this. i like the every single album podcast more than most swifties, but today's ep -- and the last few -- are driving me insane. i am so fucking sick of hearing nathan and nora wring their hands over what joe might deal with. all harassment is bad, but i am done pretending that jake g and john mayer went through….any kind of wringer? they had like...a semi-awkward couple of weeks? jake is still a mega a-lister and john mayer is widely considered to be one of the greatest living guitarists. fuck, what mayer did was outright predatory -- and he's done it to multiple women -- and lbr, he lives 99% of his life totally unperturbed by it. he's not losing gigs or status in the places that matter to him; i suspect a lot of swifties aren't aware of this but i'm a guitar nerd, and uh, yeah, he's considered a living god and no one gives a shit what he did to taylor. and literally everyone woman in the public eye, including taylor, goes through worse every single fucking day, even at their heights of popularity. i don't know how to deal with hearing nathan and nora worry about :(((( omg what will joe go through :((((( when he's never going to have disgusting ai porn of himself explode across twitter on a random weekday. maybe i feel this strongly b/c i work in games, where hordes of male fans regularly ruin random women's lives because they animated a female character wearing a t-shirt instead of a string bikini, but i can't deal with this anymore. these men are fine. lots of people get mad at them, but it's because they did truly shitty things to her and she refused to absorb it silently. then it breaks, and their lives go on.

---

I feel like Nora really articulated what Anon was trying to say the other day about along the gist of "I hope something really bad happened to justify all of this." Interesting perspectives! Btw I just want to be super clear that I don't think Taylor or anyone has to justify anything like that! Just thought it was interesting how Nora put it in the latest episode and T's power is the unusual part of this equation.

---

In a very classic "I thought the two of you should meet!" re: today's The Ringer / Every Single Album pod episode.

I will say I read both of these messages before listening to the episode myself and tbh I think Nora ultimately landed in a pretty middle and reasonable place (it started out pretty rocky though) by the end of the episode. My understanding is she ultimately felt like Taylor has every right to tell the story that she wants / needs to tell and the work will speak for itself. That this is Taylor going face to face with the elephant in the room and (probably - we don't know obviously) not obfuscating the reality that we all saw play out in real time behind 'fictionalized' half truths roleplayed by semi-imaginary characters. And at the end of the day the (likely - AGAIN WE DON'T KNOW) reality is that she's prepared to walk through the narrative that is this pressure cooker storyline many are waiting with baited breath for which is the deterioration of her most significant relationship to date.

All that to say is that I think both of these points are incredibly valid. I personally have a lot of feelings wrapped up in it that do tend to come down more on the side of it's strange that the default position is this desire to sign up as first in line defence attorney for a man when the crime as we know it is 'woman writes her life into art'.

Nora interestingly noted that there's a "pressure for this album to come with receipts" (paraphrase) based on this (fan) hyped up narrative of something sinister having gone awry that this album will pull the curtain back on. And if it fails to do that, enter said self-appointed attorneys.

#opinion #tss nanonsense

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bloodiedlamb · 1 year

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SWEET SUNSHINE.

. ✩ SUMMARY. Yeah, he’s a grump and he’s going through it, but he couldn’t picture his life with anyone else.

. ⭑ CARMY BERZATTO x fem!reader.

. ✩ 953 WORDS.

. ⭑ SUNSHINE X GRUMPY. Lots of cussing. Carmen’s a shit face for a minute there, but he makes up for it. Mentions of smut.

. ✩ CARMY MASTERLIST. NAVIGATION.

It’s bright as all Hell when you finally open your eyes, the sun gleaming brightly through the curtains that neither one of you remembered to shut last night. Carmy’s laid out next to you, his tattoos on a gorgeous display as he sleeps soundly, his brow furrowed slightly from the brightness. You sit up, your back resting against the headboard of his oddly comfortable bed and stretch. Your arms raise above your head as you tilt your body from left to right, your back creaking and cracking softly, the burn in your muscles a delicious reminder of your actions the previous night with your Boyfriend-Not-Boyfriend.

You slip out from under the covers, your feet bare against the hardwood floors of his cozy apartment. You’re wearing his shirt, and a pair of panties that he tossed at you before the two of you went to sleep last night. You’ve been in his apartment before, though you’ve never actually looked at anything inside of it, since Carmen’s always been awake before you. He, however, is out like a light, so you decide to do some adventuring.

The walls in the hallway are covered in miscellaneous pictures of Him, and two other men, who you assume to be Richie and Mikey. There’s one picture with his parents and Michael, and the rest are of various restaurants he’s worked at, as well as the framed article of when he won Rising Star Chef of the Year.

He looks happy in his pictures with Michael, though you can see the slight falter in his smile in some. Carmy looks like someone who’s on the verge of losing everything and knows it. And while he’s only given you bits and pieces of that part of his life, you don’t know what happened between him and Michael, or what happened to make him the way he is.

His fridge holds less food than you would think a Chef’s fridge would hold, which throws you off for a moment until you realize that the majority of his meals come from Family time at the Original Beef of Chicagoland.

You manage with some eggs and various ingredients in his fridge, making two omelets and a side of some strawberries and blueberries.

Carmen wakes at the mixture of soft clinking of dishes from the kitchen and the smell of a home cooked meal. He steps into the kitchen, pausing in the door jamb to get a good look at you. He’s in a pair of flannel pants and a tight wife-beater, his hair a mess atop his head and his smile soft. “I didn’t know you cooked.”

His voice makes you jump, your mind so lost in thought as you put the finishing touches on the meal. You look up at him with a grin, “Yeah, Carmy, you’re not the only one who can throw some crap together.”

He hums at that and moves to sit at the small table. “Looks good.”

“Thank you,” you nod at him, placing his plate down before taking your own seat, “I hope it tastes good too.”

He takes a bite out of the omelet, revels in the taste for a moment and nods in approval. You smile at that, though it falls after a moment of silence. The air’s always so tense around Carmen.

“How’s it going at the Beef?” It’s small talk and you know it, but you can’t address the elephant in the room.

“Fine, I guess,” he shrugs, “Richie blew the fuse box so we’re closed until Friday.”

“Oh, how’d he do that?” You snicker, rolling your eyes at the mention of the lanky idiot.

“By being the fucking idiot he is,” Carmen pinches the bridge of his nose, “Look, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but why’re you still here?”

“What?”

“You never stick around, so why are you still here? Why’d you make me breakfast? Why are you making fucking small talk with me right now?”

“Seriously, Carmen?”

He blinks at you, unmoving, the fork still gripped in his hand.

“Maybe I just wanted to spend some time with you that didn’t revolve around us fucking our brains out. Why are you being an ass?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He brushes a finger under his nose and drops his gaze down to his plate. “Sorry.”

“What’s been going on with you lately?” There it is. That big ole elephant.

“Fuck are you talking about?” But he knows, he knows exactly what you’re talking about.

“You’re agitated all the time and you barely sleep, and you’re just plain mean most days, to everyone. It’s like you’re fighting this war in your heart all the time and you won’t talk about it.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna talk about it,” his tone saddens a bit, “Maybe I don’t wanna be like this.”

“Maybe you don’t have to be.”

“Why do you stick around here? Seriously.”

“Because we had something going for a while, Carmen, and maybe I want more with you. I don’t care about the problems and the nightmares and Richie and all the crap at the Beef. I just want you to be okay.”

“I love you.” He blurts it out like the words burned his tongue. “And, uh, I’m sorry, I’m gonna do better. I don’t wanna lose this.”

“Does that mean you’re okay with me sticking around more?”

“I was never not okay with it. Yeah, whenever you wanna be around, you stay as long as you want to.”

“I love you, too, Carmy.”

Carmen lets out a breath of relief that makes you wonder how long he’s been holding those words in. “What do you wanna do today?”

And then it’s your turn to breathe out that breath of relief.

⭑✩⭑

REQUEST. @surprisenecromancy

. ✩ carmy berzatto & sunshine x grumpy.

#carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto fluff #💭 . carmy berzatto #the bear fanfiction #the bear fanfic #the bear fluff #the bear hulu #jeremy allen white

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blks16 · 5 months

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#elephant print shirt for mens #Unique t shirt design Online #Custom t shirt designs

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akwolfgrl · 2 months

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LFT PART 38

Sanji wound down the street, hands full of bags. He may have gone a little overboard while shopping. He wore a new shirt the Nami had insisted he get. It had multiple colored fishes all over it, a favorite of the new shirts he had. None of the fishes were realistic but they were still cute.

Sanji wandered over to the fish market checking if there was anything he hadn't already spotted when he noticed a large crowd. He slid through the crowd of people stopping at the front as some fishermen discussed their catch.

“Amazing, that's an elephant bluefin tuna!”

“That's right it probably got mixed in from the south sea, I caught it with a pole and line.”

“A pole and line? No way get outta here!” People laughed but Sanji had tuned the other men out.

“Elephant bluefin tuna,” Sanji would pay whatever the price to get that fish. He remembered looking at it in his second favorite book when he was younger with Zeff. He of course had packed that book and kept it in the galley. The fish was absolutely beautiful, its dark blue scale and silver underbelly, the two tusks coming up from about its large lips, and its long athena. “How much for the fish!” Sanji called out, stepping forward.

“Ahh, what parts of it are you looking to buy?” The fishermen who caught the fish asked.

“All of it, I can take it apart myself. I'll use every part of that beautiful fish,” he gushes excitedly.

“Ahh are you a cook?”

“Chef, I used to work at the Baratie,” he states offhandedly, trying to show pride but still remain humble.

“That fish shaped place, I knew I recognized ya! Love that place's great food and there's alway a fight to watch. I'll tell ya what I'll give you a good deal.”

He had so many ideas buzzing around in his brain. Such a good quality of fish could be eaten raw or cooked. He could make stock from its bones, soup from the head, he was dying to try the bone marrow or spinal jelly.

“Fantastic!”

“Yah if you want we can deliver it to your boat of want? I've got plenty more to look at, at my booth if you'll follow me,” he offered.

“That would be great actually.”

“That's a big ass fish,” Zoro's voice came outta nowhere right next to his ear.

“Shit!” Sanji jumped; he had been so focused on his new fish that he didn't hear him arrive. “When did you get here?” Sanji asked him.

“I noticed you drooling over that big ass fish and came over around the time that guy said he recognized you,” Zoro replied, shrugging slightly to cover a chuckle. “So what are you even gonna make with it?”

“Well I have lots of plans, for today I need to see who all had lunch and see how much sushi I should make, this is a great quality fish so it can be eaten raw. Then of course I want to extract the spinel jelly, I've heard it's delicious,” Sanji was eager to talk about his plans as they walked to the fishermen's booth.

“I like sushi, Luffy and I already had lunch, but we all know Luffy could eat more,”

“How did you pay for it?”

“Some guy in a cloak paid for us, I've just had the best of luck today,” Zoro gave his blond man once over and smirked. “I'm hoping that luck continues tonight.”

“Hmmm,” Sanji pretended he had to think about it, but he too was looking forward to tonight. “I'll tell you what, help me with the dishes and maybe you will,” Sanji began to browse the selection picking out what he wanted.

“I'll also have to think about that, might interrupt my nap time,” Zoro taunted back, only causing Sanji to huff and roll his eyes.

“You and your naps, Marimo,” Sanji handed over the money for his purchases. “Our ship is the Going Merry; its figurehead is shaped like a sheep, pier 40.”

“Do you like alcohol? My wife makes mead and I have some for sale,” the man offers with a gentle smile at the pair.

“Got anything that's not sweet?” Zoro asked.

“Yah, this strawberry one is pretty dry, also a Ginger Matcha Mead, and a Cranberry Mead,” he offers.

“I'll take them all,” Zoro also paid for his mead, happy to not only have two new swords to tame and some hopefully good homemade mead with his (hopefully) boyfriend. “Ready to go curly?”

“Yah, should we find the others?”

“All right,” he states with a shrug. As they turn to go, Zoro brushes his fingertips against Sanji’s, the cook barely keeping their hands touching in some form. It made Zoro’s chest feel warm, everything was going good for him right now.

#one piece #fanfic #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #lust filled thoughts #zoro #loguetown

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jazziwritesthings · 9 months

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Missing You- Bang Chan Pt 2

Purely a work of Fiction.

Word Count: 2,183

Pairings: Bang Chan x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Miscarriage

All Dialogue in Korean unless otherwise specified

Flashbacks in Italics

A/N: Heres Part 2!

******

Chan’s POV

I hurried into my room quietly closing the door. She never stopped loving me? Then why did she say that to me? The thoughts wouldn’t stop as I lowered myself onto my bed. I’m not sure how long I was lost in my memories before I heard the front door close. Standing from my bed I grabbed my stuff for a shower and opened my door, only to basically run into Han. “Dude.” I said as I nearly dropped my clothing. “Did you hear any of that conversation?” My face must have shown my surprise at his question. “ Chan, you walk like an elephant, I’m not sure how she didn’t hear you. How much?” Turning to go back into my room I set down my stuff as Han followed me. “I heard enough.” Han nodded, “ Okay, so what are you gonna do about it?” My head whipped in his direction, “ What?” He threw his hands in the air, “ I know you Chan! I know you still love her so what do you plan on doing now that you heard her confess?!” All of a sudden there were two more faces in the doorway, Hans yelling must have woken Changbin and Hyunjin. “Who confessed what?” Changbin said from his position. Han turned to take in the two men who obviously just woke up, “Y/n told me she still loves Chan. She just thought it was better for everyone if she left.” This caused looks of anger/pain to cross both the guys' faces. “Why would she think that? We’re so much better with her around.” Hyunjin said as attempted to rub the sleep from his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.” The words slipped past my lips as I darted into the bathroom before locking the door and turning on the shower. I couldn’t even decipher my own thoughts between the pounding on the door, the pounding of the water and the pounding of my own heart. Truth be told I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do now that I know she never quit loving me.

Your POV

Walking into your own apartment felt like a punch to the gut. Leaving the place, you called home for so many years was hard, you just didn’t realize how hard. You decided to shower since you still felt the after-concert grossness on your skin. You slowly shed the shirt and shorts that Hannie let you borrow for sleep and folded them, leaving them on the counter with the intention to return them eventually. Turning on the shower you stared in the mirror as you waited for the water to heat up. Turning to your left you examined the word that adorned your hip, “Christopher” in a small cursive font. As far as you knew he didn’t know about it. It was supposed to be a surprise, then not even a month after you got it, the miscarriage happened. You were in such a low spot for the next year that you forgot all about it. During that time, you didn’t feel well enough to let anyone see you naked in any way, not even Chan. You ran your fingers gently across the area, you never had the heart to remove it. You were brought out of your thoughts by your phone notifying you of a text. You shook your head, I’ll check it later, you thought as you got into the shower scrubbing away the day before.

By the time you got out of the shower you saw you had multiple texts and missed calls from the guys. Seeing that Hyunjin was the last call a few minutes prior you pressed his contact and put it on speaker as you got dressed.

“Y/N!”

“Geez, Jinie, what's up?”

“Can you open your door?”

“Oh, hang on.” You say as you pull on a big shirt and a pair of pajama shorts before going and opening the door. All of the guys piled into your small studio. You closed the door as they all took in your small place. “Make yourself at home.” You gestured to your couch. They all spread across the small space until there was no room for you. “What was so important that all of you came to see me at once?” You turned and hopped up to sit on your kitchen counter.

“Chan still loves you.” Felix blurted out.

Your legs stopped swinging and you hopped down and got closer to them, “ What?” Your brain didn’t believe the words that were just spoken to you. You weren’t heard as the guys all started yelling at him for just blurting it out.

“Hey!” You yelled and all their attention turned to you.

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” You crossed your arms, your hands playing with the hem of the shirt you were wearing. “Isn’t that Chan’s shirt?” Binnie asked as he sat front to get a closer look. This caused you to look down at the shirt you were wearing and it was indeed one of Chan’s t-shirts. One that you couldn’t bear to part with. “Don’t change the subject.” you scolded and used your arms to cover the shirt. Han got up and stood in front of you. ?He gently placed his hands on your shoulders, as if bracing you so you didn’t fall. “ Chan heard you this morning.” You furrowed your brows thinking back to this morning's conversation with Hannie.

“And I miss him, Hannie, so fucking much.” You nodded your head.

“So he knows I miss him? There's nothing wrong with that.”

“Y/n, you said you never stopped loving him.”

The whole conversation dropped into your memories. Your breath hitched. You flashed back to the night you left.

*****

After a long fight with Chan, telling him that he deserved so much better than you, with him arguing that you were the only person he wanted, no matter what. You knew in order to leave him to find better you had to say something you would never mean, not in a thousand years.

“I just don’t love you anymore Chris.” The words felt like a weight in your chest. Tasted like acid in your mouth. Watching the way his face fell, you felt like every bone in your body was breaking. He didn’t respond. You took that chance to grab your bag off the bed and leave before he had the chance to.

*****

“What do I do?” You whispered out.

“Was it the truth?”

You looked up and looked your best friend in the eye, “ I would never lie to you, Hannie.” Your voice cracked as tears started to fall. He pulled you in close to him and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, “ I don’t know. Y/n.”

“Do you still love him?” Minnie asked from his spot on the couch.

“I never stopped.” You managed to whisper out. Hannie pulled back and tilted your face to meet his eyes. “ Then I think you should tell him.”

Shaking your head you free yourself from his grasp, “ He won’t forgive me. I broke him.”

Finally Lee Know spoke up, “ You did. You broke him badly. Yet your name is what he calls at night.” There was a chorus of agreement from the others.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” They all started to argue.

“I can’t!” You yelled. This caused them all to quiet down.

“You love him, yeah?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then what's stopping you?”

Closing your eyes you looked to the ceiling, “ Last time. I couldn’t handle the fans. The death threats. The blaming. I can’t take that again.”

“You won’t have to.” This voice caught you off guard, causing your head to snap in its direction. Standing there at the now open front door was the love of your life. Looking from him to the boys they all had small unsure smiles on their faces.

He let out a small laugh, “ You did always look better in my clothes.” He took a small step into your home and gave the guys a look. They all tried to leave at once, very quickly. Causing them to get stuck in the door as they made their way out. Chan gave them a gentle shove and out they went while closing the door. He stared at you from across the room. He wasn’t sure what to do. He knew you better then he knew the back of his hand, yet at this moment he couldn’t read your face. “Y/n.” He said as he now stood within arms reach. “Did you mean it?”

“Which part?” You squeak out now looking at the floor.

“When you said you never stopped loving me?”

You nodded your head a little while keeping your eyes on the floor.

“Love, can you answer me with words?” He giggled a little at your reluctance to look at him or speak.

“I never stopped loving you. Never. Not in a thousand years.” You felt his hand on your chin slowly lifting your head to look at him. Your eyes slowly met his. You searched them for any kind of emotion. Only you didn’t just see one, you saw them all. Anger, Fear, Hurt, Regret, Anxiousness, and finally Love. You'd recognize love in his eyes any day. He seemed to realize his hand was still on your chin as he slowly pulled it away. Before he could go too far with his hand you grabbed it and placed it on your cheek relaxing into it. All the worry and fear in his features seemed to just melt away. His eyes slowly moved from your eyes, to your nose, then your cheeks, like he was drinking in all your features. They finally landed on your lips before flickering back up to meet your eyes. You smiled a small smile before he placed both his hands on your cheeks and brought his face close to yours. He gently nudged your nose with his, causing a small giggle to leave your lips. It’s like that sound told him everything he needed as she gently closed the gap between you and placed his lips on yours. Your hands found his chest immediately. He pulled back slowly causing a small whine to leave your lips. He pressed his forehead to yours. “ I missed you so much.” His hands left your face and found their place on your hips. Your hands gently found their way to his neck and his hairline. “I missed you Chris.” You let out a small giggle, “ Did you even shower?” At this he chuckled and buried his face in your neck leaving a small peck there, “I did not. I was too worried about this. I changed though. ” You nodded, your hands moving and finding the bottom of the hoodie he was currently wearing. You slowly lifted it, asking for permission to remove it. He leaned back and removed it effortlessly. He moved to grab your hips again but you removed his hands and grabbed on in yours, leading him to the bathroom. “Shower first.” You gently closed the bathroom door and moved to the couch.

The door to the bathroom opened and he stepped out wearing the same sweats but shirtless this time. “Can I maybe have my shirt?” He chuckled and pointed at you. Your cheeks heated up, “ Of course!” You grabbed the bottom and took it off and quickly handed it to him and watched as he put it on. You went to move past him to grab a shirt of your own when he lightly grabbed your wrist and spun you so you were in front of him again. You got a little self conscious seeing as you were now in just a bra and shorts. But he wasn’t checking you out like you thought. You saw he had focused on one spot. He slowly squatted so that he was eye level with your hip. “What are you d-” “When did you get this?” You were cut off by his question. “What?” You asked urgently. Then you felt his fingers lightly trace his name across your hip. “ Oh. That.” He moved you a little to look at it in a better light. “About a year before we broke up.” His face snapped up to meet yours and he rose from his spot, “ And you never told me?” You shrugged your shoulders as his hands found your hips again. “ I never really got the chance with everything that happened.” He rests his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry, Love. I should have protected you more.” Shaking your head you pull back and grab his face in your hands, “ There was nothing you could’ve done. You tried and I respect and appreciate that so much. I was just in too deep.” He gently pecks your lips, “ I wish I could’ve pulled you out sooner.”

“I got out. With help. All that matters now is us.”

Kissing your lips again he utters the phrase you missed more than anything, “I love you.”

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voxphantasma · 1 year

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i don’t have the ability transform thoughts and feelings into actual words but. making my way through the city watch books and i just. head in hands carrot ironfoundersson

[IMAGE ID’S: five photos of pages from a few different discworld books, all written by terry pratchett.

image 1 quote: “He could lead armies, Angua thought. He really could. Some people have inspired whole countries to great deeds because of the power of their vision. And so could he. Not because he dreams about marching hordes, or world domination, or an empire of a thousand years. Just because he thinks that everyone’s really decent underneath and would get along just fine if only they made the effort, and he believes that so strongly it burns like a flame which is bigger than he is. He’s got a dream and we’re all part of it, so that it shapes the world around him. And the weird thing is that no one wants to disappoint him. It’d be like kicking the biggest puppy in the universe. It’s a kind of magic.” from men at arms.

image 2 quote: “Carrot read a page, and turned to the next one. 'This is interesting,' he said. 'Exactly. But now we must remove this annoying policeman,' said Cruces. Vimes felt that he could see all the way along the tube, to the little slug of metal that was soon to launch itself at him... 'It's a shame,' said Cruces, 'if only you had—' Carrot stepped in front of the gonne. His arm moved in a blur. There was hardly a sound. Pray you never face a good man, Vimes thought. He'll kill you with hardly a word. Cruces looked down. There was blood on his shirt. He raised a hand to the sword hilt protruding from his chest, and looked back up into Carrot's eyes. 'But why? You could have been—' And he died. The gonne fell from his hands, and fired at the floor.” from men at arms.

image 3 quote: “Dorfl remained impassive. Carrot nodded. 'Anyway, you're free to go. What happens now is up to you. I'll help you if I can. If a golem is a thing then it can't commit murder, and I'll still try to find out why all this is happening. If a golem can commit murder, then you are people, and what is being done to you is terrible and must be stopped. Either way, you win, Dorfl.' from feet of clay.

image 4 quote: “White chicken feathers were scattered across the field. The farmer stood at the door of his henhouse, shaking his head. He glanced up as a horseman approached. ‘Good morrow, sir! Are you experiencing trouble?’ The farmer opened his mouth for a witty or at least snappy response, but something stopped him. Perhaps it was the sword the horseman had slung across his back. Perhaps it was the man’s faint smile. The smile was somehow more frightening. ‘Er, somethin’s been at my fowls,’ he ventured. ‘Fox, I reckon.’ ‘Wolf, I suspect,’ said the rider.” from the fifth elephant.

image 5 quote: “A few minutes later the crowd was gently nudged aside as Carrot edged his horse towards the pen. The hubbub died. A sword on a horse always commands respect; the rider is often a mere courtesy detail, but in this case it was not so. The Watch had put the final swell and polish on Carrot’s muscles. And there was that faint smile. It was the sort you backed away from.” from the fifth elephant. /END ID’S]

#HES JUST SOOOO #MOST CHARACTER OF ALL TIME #im a bit into the fifth elephant rn and carrot and vimes are constantly rattling around in my head #discworld #carrot ironfoundersson #my post 💻

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