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earthtooz · 1 year

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x : MORE :*+ﾟ

in which: rin's not happy with your decision to sleep on the couch.

warnings: cliché lol, 1.1k, hurt/comfort, gn!reader, unedited + ooc!rin towards the end, a lot of metaphors but hey one cliché leads to another.

a/n: this is practice for me to a) get back into writing and b) remind u guys that i am still writing luls, enjoy!! reblogs r vv appreciated, but this quality is actually so ass.

“are you sure you want to sleep out here tonight?” rin’s voice asks from the hallway entrance, slight concern laced in his tone as he watches your backside set up on the couch, fidgeting with the pillows and blankets.

“yeah, i’m positive,” you answer, not turning around to look at him; something rin frowns at.

“oh…” he mutters, leaning awkwardly on the wall as he scours his brain to try and find something to say. “really?”

“yes, really.”

“won’t you be uncomfortable?”

“i’ll be fine. it’s not that bad here.”

“if you’re sure.”

silence cuts the conversation with a cold knife, leaving the two of you in the suffocating quiet, one that stops rin from instigating further conversation despite how badly he wanted to continue. because if he shuts up then that means he has to leave, but he doesn’t want to leave you alone. he wants you to come to bed so the two of you can sleep peacefully together and not (what feels like) eons apart where he can’t hold you.

“are you going to go to bed? it’s getting late,” you ask, no hint of hostility at all in your tone as you shuffle under the covers, disappearing from rin’s view completely.

he bites the inside of his cheek, disheartened at your eagerness to see him go. “oh, right. goodnight.”

he lingers for a second longer, waiting for a ‘goodnight’ back, or even better, an ‘i love you’, but neither comes and rin feels his chest contract.

rin didn’t mean for the argument to escalate, he didn’t mean to sharpen his words and pierce you with them, he didn’t mean to hurt you to the point that you didn’t want to sleep beside him.

as he slowly makes his way to your shared bedroom, your absence on your side of the bed hits him even harder. it’s cold. it’s empty. it’s void. rin loathes it.

you’re not faring much better, replaying the argument in your head over and over again as the small, coffee table lamp illuminates the room with a warm yellow. each replay of the memory just twists the knife further and causes a new batch of tears to wet your eyes.

you hate this. you hate feeling weary around rin, you hate feeling like you need to walk on egg shells around him from now on, you hate feeling like he doesn’t value you the same way you do with him, you hate these new revelations coming to your brain as you reflect on your relationship-

“you’re still awake?” a voice comes from the hallway.

leaning up onto your elbows, you blink in shock at the new figure making itself known. thanks to the lamp, you can see rin from where he stands, and you can see the confusion in his eyes.

“uh… yeah,” you say.

“why are you still up?”

“i was thinking. why are you still up?”

“i…” rin hesitates for a second, “i wanted to check up on you.”

your heart flutters at his shy confession. “i’m fine, thank you.”

“you sure?”

“yeah.”

“why, are you not fine?”

no, he’s not. he wants you to come back to bed, he wants you to reassure him that the two of you will still be okay, he wants you.

“no,” lies rin. “i’m okay.”

the soccer player regrets his words instantly.

“that’s good. i’m gonna sleep now and you should too, you have a big day tomorrow.”

but rin can’t sleep. not without you beside him because otherwise, the bed is too vacant and too chilly and reminds him of the life he used to live too much.

and he’s scared that he’ll have to go back to living like that if you’re not there beside him, petrified that you’ll leave in the middle of the night because you’ve realised that he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you.

instead of confessing that, the dark-haired merely sighs, the words lodging themselves in his throat. “okay. i’m off.”

you reach over to turn off the lamp, engulfing the room in darkness with a single click. “goodnight, rin.”

“i love you,” rin confesses, but it’s too quiet and too breathy for you to hear, so there’s no response. he hopes you know.

so, he retreats back into the barren wasteland that is your shared bedroom. he misses you. he reaches over to your side in hopes of being to feel some remnants of comfort.

30 minutes later, rin wakes again after weaving in and out of consciousness and he’s sick of it. it’s 1:10am and he only has five hours until he needs to get up. decisively, he throws the cover off of him and makes his way to the living room, intent on this trip being his last one.

it’s dark in the living room and rin can’t find it in him to turn on a light and disturb your slumber, so after adjusting to the dark and mindlessly patting around, he eventually threads his arms underneath you. he lifts you up so effortlessly, driven by determination and love as he walks to familiar path back to your shared bedroom.

he settles you down gently and the last thing rin remembers before drifting off is the warming feeling of content as he pulls you into his arms.

the following morning, you rouse to the sound of a blaring alarm; the one rin always uses because otherwise gentle alarms won’t coax him successfully. your lover shuffles beside you, shutting the clock off with a groan before wrapping an arm around you again, pulling you into his warmth.

wait.

you raise yourself up onto your elbows, dazed and confused. weren’t you meant to be on the couch?

“don’t go,” rin murmurs, snaking his arm up to wrap your shoulders instead, gently guiding you down to the mattress, “sleep.”

“how did i get here?” you ask and rin stiffens before pulling you in to his chest. “rin, i’m being serious.”

“you were always here.”

“don’t lie to me.”

“i’m not lying, so let’s sleep.”

you’re sick of his shit. “itoshi rin, i swear to-”

“i carried you back here, now shut up. i only have 10 minutes before i have to get up and get ready.”

“i think i’ll go back to the couch, actually,” you say jokingly.

“not funny.”

“i think it’s plenty funny.”

he frowns, wrapping himself around you even tighter. you don’t hug him back, but you’re here and that’s all that matters to rin. you didn’t leave like he thought you would.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, “for last night. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“it’s okay, rin, we can talk about it later.”

“we’re okay right?”

“of course.”

“you… you won’t leave. right?”

“i would never. why would you think i would?”

“just being stupid, i guess.”

“better you than me.”

he huffs, letting the conversation die to silence.

you speak up again, “i love you.”

rin feels a weight lift off his shoulders. he can breathe again.

“i love you more.”

#itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x you #rin x you #rin itoshi x you #blue lock rin #itoshi x reader #blue lock itoshi rin #itoshi rin drabble #itoshi rin #itoshi rin bllk #blue lock

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andy-15-07 · 2 months

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Sweet moments

A true love Masterlist

Pairing: Rudy Pankow x reader x Drew Starkey

Summary:Cooking together creates beautiful memories, especially with the people you love

Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist | Playlist

Rudy, Drew, and Y/n decided to have a cozy day in. With blankets strewn across the couch and a playlist of their favorite songs filling the air, they embarked on a culinary adventure in their kitchen. Y/n stood between Rudy and Drew, the warmth of their bodies creating a cocoon of comfort.

"Alright, team," Y/n said, tying an apron around their waist. "What's on the menu for today?"

Drew grinned mischievously. "I say we start with something sweet. How about we make a dessert?"

Rudy's eyes lit up. "Yes! Let's make chocolate lava cakes!"

Y/n nodded enthusiastically. "Sounds perfect. Let's get started."

As they gathered ingredients and preheated the oven, laughter filled the kitchen. Drew playfully flicked flour at Rudy, who retaliated with a dollop of batter. Y/n watched their antics with fondness, feeling grateful for these moments of simple joy.

"Okay, so first we need to melt the chocolate and butter together," Y/n instructed, guiding Rudy and Drew through the process.

While the chocolate melted, Rudy wrapped his arms around Y/n from behind, resting his chin on their shoulder. "You're amazing, you know that?"

Y/n leaned back into his embrace, smiling. "Only because I have the best partners to cook with."

Drew joined them, draping an arm over Y/n's shoulder. "Agreed. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

Once the chocolate mixture was ready, they added sugar, eggs, and flour, carefully folding the ingredients together. As they poured the batter into ramekins, Drew couldn't resist sneaking a taste.

"Mmm, this is going to be incredible," he declared, licking chocolate from his fingers.

Rudy chuckled, wiping a smudge of chocolate from Drew's cheek. "You're a mess, Starkey."

Drew grinned sheepishly. "It's all part of the experience."

With the cakes in the oven, they turned their attention to the accompanying sauce. Y/n stirred cream and more chocolate together, creating a rich ganache that filled the kitchen with an irresistible aroma.

As they waited for the cakes to bake, Rudy pulled Y/n into a slow dance, swaying to the music playing in the background. Drew watched them with a soft smile, feeling a surge of affection for the couple he was lucky enough to call his own.

When the timer finally chimed, they eagerly removed the cakes from the oven, their mouths watering at the sight of the molten centers. Carefully, they inverted the ramekins onto plates, revealing perfectly gooey chocolate lava cakes.

"These look amazing," Y/n exclaimed, their eyes shining with delight.

Rudy pressed a kiss to Y/n's temple. "Only because we made them together."

Drew reached for the sauce, drizzling it over the cakes with precision. "And now, the finishing touch."

They each took a spoonful, savoring the rich chocolate flavor that melted on their tongues. With satisfied smiles, they leaned back in their chairs, reveling in the warmth of their love and the sweetness of the moment.

"This," Drew declared, "is perfection."

Rudy and Y/n nodded in agreement, their hearts full as they savored the simple pleasure of being together. In that cozy kitchen, surrounded by love and laughter, they knew that no dessert could ever taste sweeter than this.

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bubblegumbarbie33 · 7 months

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I really want to write a Shameless AU where the day after 'Cascading Failures' Mandy wakes Mickey up and is like "Fuck this shit we're leaving" and she has a plan to move in with an Internet friend in Indiana but Mickey physically can't leave because Ian Ian Ian so Mandy takes him to the Gallagher house (where Fiona is freaking the fuck out about getting her kids back) and practically begs Fiona to take her brother in like she took Mandy in (not really because they were always fighting but also Fiona never kicked her out so.....)

Fiona's obviously like "Fuck this BS I've gotta get my kids back" and Mickey says that he'll help. Because he remembers what the system is like. Being alone. Fighting every second of every day. Being in a constant state of fight or flight. And he doesn't want that for Ian. Or any of the little Rugrats.

So he stays in the basement and keeps out of the house whenever social services stop by, and cleans and learns how to cook (pizza bagels and burnt eggs) and Fiona gets him a job (because he's not staying at her house with no money coming in, and Mickey doesn't want to work at the Kash and Grab with no Ian) and he works at the Alibi because his dad doesn't come around too often (he owes too many guys money or they owe him a boot to the face) but when Terry busts through the door Kev shoves Mickey under the bar like a little kid.

Mickey goes to the court hearing, because why wouldn't he? And Ian sees him walk in with Fiona and Mickey's looking at the ground and shuffling his feet because he knows that this is too much. That he's caring too much. But Ian doesn't say anything and just sits, glued to his side, until Fiona finally gets her kids back for good and everyone's jumping up and down and Mickey's just smiling but also a little sad because he's never known a family like this.

And then it's peaceful and domestic for a while, Mickey blends into the family. Makes friends with Kev and V. Becomes an dependable ego-check for Lip, a weird cousin/older brother for Carl and Debbie, a helping hand to Fiona, and a boyfriend to Ian. And it's some cheesy Brady Bunch shit but he lets himself love it because he's gone two decades without feeling safe.

Then, of course, Terry finds him. One of his cousins tips him off. He catches Mickey walking home from the Alibi one night, really lays into him. Mickey tries fighting back but finds himself paralyzed by that old, solid fear in the pit of his stomach. So he's just hit, again and again, in the street in front of the Gallagher house.

Until Fiona's on top of Terry with a bat, and Carl's got a blowtorch, and Lip's calling the cops because getting Terry sent to jail will make everyone's life easier, and Ian's kicking the shit out of him, and Debbie's holding a pillowcase full of bricks but she's more focused on making sure Mickey's cuts aren't deep enough to do lasting damage.

And that's enough to get Terry put away for a while. Tony makes sure of it, as due to some personal revelations he's definitely not a supporter of gay-bashing. And Mickey's lying on the couch, feeling like a sack of shit. A burden on the Gallaghers. He contemplates running down to Indiana, but Mandy has seemed happier based on her infrequent texts and social media posts, and he doesn't want to bother her. Because that's what he is. A bother.

But then Ian's sitting down next to him and turning on a movie. And slowly the rest of the family trickles in. And then it's just a normal night with leftovers and action flicks and Ian's arm wrapped around him. And Mickey falls asleep, knowing that when he wakes up the next day, it won't just be a dream.

#shameless #mickey milkovich #gallavich #ian gallagher #shameless us #shameless au #gallavich au #fanfic #au

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topgun-imagines · 2 years

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Finally

Requested: yes

Summary: after months of trying for a baby, you and your husband finally get the chance.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Trouble conceiving, mentions of vomiting.

Pairings: Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x fem!reader

“Ice, I just don’t get it,” You sighed close to tears. You and your husband had been trying to have a child for months. And now you were in Miramar with him while he attended Top Gun. Of course, you were happy that he had been chosen, and, for that matter, that he was currently in the lead. But both you and Ice had more pressing concerns. Ice was just naturally good at being a pilot. The pair of having children, however, was a different story.

You had both been told by many different doctors that you were fine, that you should have no problems conceiving. With what felt like the millionth negative pregnancy test, you were starting to think that there was something that the doctors just couldn’t see. There had to be. You knew that sometimes it just took time, but come on. With all the attempts that you had, not that you were complaining about those, there should be results at this point.

He sighed and wrapped you in his arms, pressing his cheek to your hair. “I know baby. It’s okay,” He brushed your hair back before gently grabbing your chin and tipping it so he could look you in the eyes. “Hey,” He whispered. A soft smile came across his face and you could see the look in his eyes that he always got when thinking about having a baby with you. “Maybe next time.” That sparked a humorless laugh from you. Those were words that you both had heard many times, from the closest people in your life to just about every doctor that you had ever seen.

Ice gave you a sad smile as he picked you up. He wanted this baby as much, if not more than you and although he was becoming extremely successful in his career, his life with you came first. The two of you spent the rest of the night curled up on his couch, watching cheesy stand-up comedy to make both of you feel better. As usual, it worked perfectly. Part way through the night, Ice’s hand unconsciously slipped under your T-shirt to rest on your stomach. That night, you and your husband fell asleep on his couch with your hands intertwined on your stomach, both hoping that someday, it would hold your baby.

When you woke up in the morning, it was to the sound of your husband moving around in the kitchen. With a fond roll of your eyes, you threw off the small throw blanket that was definitely draped over you by Ice before heading to his kitchen. You leaned against the door frame, watching him crack eggs against the edge of the pan before tossing away the shell. Walking up behind him, you felt him jump slightly and his muscles tense under your cold hands as you wrapped them around his shirtless frame. “Morning, Mr. Kazansky.” It was a soft purr as you spoke into his shoulder blade.

He grinned, squeezing your hand before spinning around to wrap his arms around you. “Morning, Mrs. Kazansky,” Chuckling quietly when he saw the Navy sweatshirt hanging off your frame, he rose an eyebrow with a smirk. “Stealing now huh?” He teased you.

With another roll of your eyes, you shrugged casually. “Not like you were wearing it.” You pressed a kiss to his warm chest, loving the sound of his soft laugh that followed. He tickled your sides causing you to squeal.

“Touché,” He spoke against your lips when he dipped his head and pressed a loving kiss to them. You smiled into the kiss as your fingers danced gently along his forearms. “Eggs, M’lady?”

You giggled at the strong accent that he put on and nodded. “Scrambled please,” your husband mock saluted you before ushering you over to the kitchen table, causing another fit of giggles to overtake you. Moments like this were your favourite. When you and your husband could share a domestic life without even thinking about the outside world. That’s not to say that you didn’t love your friends, but you revelled in these quiet moments with Tom. “So, any plans for today, sailor?”

Even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew that he was rolling his eyes. Ever since the first time you met him you had been relentlessly teasing him with the nickname. He would say that he hated it but you knew he didn’t. Ice secretly loved hearing you tease him for his job in the Navy, constantly reminding you that ‘I don’t sail ships, darling. I land on them.’

Today was one of the rare days that he had off during his time in Miramar, but unfortunately, his friends were ever so annoying that they pestered him into some volleyball competition down at the beach. He explained this to you, watching your face fall slightly when learning that you wouldn’t be able to spend the day in this domestic haven that you two had created.

When a small smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, Tom didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned. You grinned at him mischievously as you walked toward him, slipping your thumbs in the band of his black sweat pants and tugging him towards you. “Could I come watch?” It was a soft whisper as you pressed kisses against the column of his throat, causing Ice to groan and tip his head back as he set his hands on your hips. He nodded breathlessly as you pulled back to grin at him. Laughing slightly as he gaped at you, you retreated back to the table. “You might wanna pay attention to your stove, sailor.” Tom grumbled some colorful words under his breath as he turned back to tend to the eggs.

A few hours later your fingers were laced with your husbands as you walked down to the beach. To say that you were ready to watch your man run around while covered in baby oil was an understatement. You sat down on the bleachers, Ice setting his water bottle beside you. He pressed a kiss to your head before heading onto the court.

Maverick and Goose grinned at the two of you, Mav waiting barely a second before teasing you. Rolling his eyes at his friend's shenanigans, Ice moved to Slider, picking up the ball before tossing it to Goose who was wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. Although Iceman and Maverick were rivals in the sky, their friendship had certainly progressed on the ground, creating a large friend group between the rest of the pilots and their RIOs.

The volleyball game continued for a few more hours, finally coming to an end when Maverick took off for some date that he was late too. You heard the sound of a laughing, squealing child, automatically turning to look and grinning when you saw Bradley running towards his father. Carole was laughing along with him before she took a seat beside you.

“So,” She started. A smile crept up on your face. Anything that came out of this woman's mouth could make you smile. “We got a babysitter for Bradley tonight and Nick was planning on heading to the bar with the boys. Do you wanna come over and have a girl's night?” Carole smiled at you widely making you do the same. You nodded, glancing at Ice to see that he was tossing the ball to Slider. Goose walked up to the pair with Bradley on his hip and you could tell that he was asking about the bar because Ice looked at you. When you made eye contact with your husband you grinned softly, both Carole and Goose watching the interaction with smiles of their own on their faces. He walked over to you, smiling shyly at Carole before pulling you up and dragging you away.

He rubbed your knuckles gently. Tom knew that you were probably planning on staying home with him tonight but given Nick’s proposal that was unlikely now. “Goose has invited us all to the bar tonight,” He started softly and hesitantly, gauging your reaction. You grinned up at your husband, which confused him a bit. “I know you probably wanted to stay home tonight but-”

You cut him off by pressing a kiss to his cheek, giggling quietly. Ice furrowed his eyebrows. “I know, silly,” Your easy grin caused him to relax and a warm look to settle in his eyes. “Carole told me. And they got a babysitter for Bradley so we're gonna have a girl's night while you’re at the bar.” He smiled, knowing that you would have a great time with Carole, now feeling significantly better about spending the night with his friends.

The pair of you told the Bradshaw's that you would be coming before making your way back to Ice’s house. Once there you packed an overnight bag filled with various activities for you and Carole while Tom changed into his summer whites. You both headed outside, fingers lacing together as you made the short walk to the house that had been given to Nick.

“Have a good night, baby.” Ice gave you a quick, soft kiss when you got to their front door, Carole opening it moments later. Nick grinned at his wife and slipped past her, Maverick in tow. The three made their way toward Goose’s car and piled in, your husband slipping into the back seat.

Carole lead you inside, immediately heading towards the living room where she pulled a selection of movies out of a box. “Pick one,” Was all she said before heading off into the kitchen. When she returned she was carrying a tray with glasses of wine and various crackers, cheeses, and fruit. “Here we go.” Carole murmured, handing you a glass of red. You thanked her with a grin, passing her the random chick flick that you picked.

The pair of you spent the night in her living room. You changed the movie a few more times and eventually ended up painting your nails. The night was spent by the pair of you chatting about your husbands, Carole even offering you advice on why you may be having issues with getting pregnant. That resulted in a few shed tears from you, which was odd. You didn’t usually cry that easily.

The wife and mother smiled at you sadly when you revealed the trouble that you and Tom were having. She comforted you, trying to reassure you that sometimes, these things just take time. You knew that; it was something that you had heard multiple times from almost everyone. After your emotions had died down slightly, Carole lead you to the guest bedroom. You had decided to call it a night a bit earlier than anticipated.

You quickly rinsed off your face before climbing under the sheets and trying to sleep. It didn’t come as easy as you thought it might. With how tired you had been lately, you figured that you would be asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. That was the complete opposite of what happened. You lay awake for a few more hours, sleep evading you as you tossed and turned. Maybe it was because you had become used to sleeping with Tom again. Yea, that must have been it. With that thought in mind, you tried to settle enough to fall asleep. A few minutes later and you were out cold.

When you woke up in the morning you were barely awake for a few seconds before an overwhelming nauseating feeling overcame you. Tossing back the covers you ran into the guest bathroom and slammed the door open, no doubt waking Carole if she already wasn’t. Your knees hit the ground harshly as you collapsed on the floor in front of the toilet.

Carole rushed into the room and found you hurling into the toilet. She immediately held your hair and began rubbing your back. A few minutes later and you had finished emptying the contents of your stomach, which wasn’t much. “Are you okay, hun?” The mother continued to rub your back as you wiped your mouth on the back of your hand.

“Yea,” You murmured quietly, standing to grab a glass of water. “It’s probably just a stomach bug. Maybe the flu. I had some trouble sleeping last night,” Shrugging offhandedly you quickly drank your water before refilling the glass. Behind you, Carole’s eyes widened as she put the pieces together.

Letting out a choked hum, you furrowed your eyebrows and stepped aside as Carole bent down and began rummaging in the cabinet. “Take this.” Was all she said before she left you alone. You were lucky that you had a chance to swallow your water before you saw what she pressed into your hand. A pregnancy test, in all it’s glory, sat delicately in your hand. There was no way you were pregnant. It was just the flu. Right?

With a sigh, you took it anyways. Quickly finishing your business, you set the stick face down on the counter and washed your hands. While you were standing there you began to zone out. Possibilities flitted through your head. What if you were pregnant? That’s all you and Tom had been dreaming of since your honeymoon. Maybe you would finally be able to give him a baby.

Once the three minutes had passed you let out a large breath before flipping it over. Every thought you had left your mind as you stared down at the two blue lines. Tears immediately welled in your eyes, a choked sob escaping you. Needless to say, you were over the moon.

Carole, who had been anxiously pacing outside of the door, wanting to give you the privacy you deserved rushed in the second she heard you crying. With a smile you handed her the test, watching a large smile break out on her face. She gave you a tight hug, slightly startled when you pulled back and gasped. “I need to tell Tom.” Carole nodded wordlessly, leading you out of the house as the pair of you rushed back to your place. Nick had taken the Bradshaw’s car last night but you knew that yours would still be parked in front of Ice’s house.

The pair of you hopped in the car, Carole refusing to let you drive as she rushed you towards the base. Both of you knew that your husbands would be on base but it was likely that they were on their lunch break, today being one of the few days when they didn’t have a hop. When you arrived, you jumped out of the car, barely waiting for Carole to stop it before you were rushing inside to where you knew your husband would be. You ignored the lecture from Carole as you ran through the halls.

You pushed open the doors to the cafeteria, silencing almost everyone in the room. At a table close to the middle, Ice was seated with Slider, Goose, Maverick and a few of the other aviators. When the door slammed against the wall, your husband turned to see what the commotion was about with an unimpressed expression on his face, dark aviators covering his eyes. His eyes locked on you, the tears gathering in your eyes again, and he was out of his seat before anyone could question it. “What’s wrong, baby?” He whispered quietly, searching your eyes for a clue as to what was happening.

“We’re pregnant,” You had never seen someone’s expression change so fast. One minute he was extremely concerned for you and the next he looked horrified. Ice wanted a child with you so so badly. He was only terrified because he thought you were joking. “We’re gonna have a baby Ice.” A large smile overtook your husband’s face. You giggled loudly as he picked you up and spun you around, setting you back on the ground before kneeling in front of you and pressing numerous kisses to your stomach. Your fingers threaded through his perfectly styled hair as he did.

Moments later you were back in his arms, the rest of the aviators, especially Goose and Slider, congratulating you loudly, happy that you were finally able to have a baby. All of your and Ice’s close friends knew how hard you had been trying and were glad that you finally had the chance.

From the corner of your eye, you could see a slight grimace come onto Maverick’s face. The pilot had just realized exactly what had happened for you to be pregnant. You giggled quietly, making a mental note to tease him about his reaction for years to come.

a/n: Thank you for reading! requests are open.

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kotias · 6 months

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We Are In our Eden - Favourite Spot

Time, after all the hurt I've been sending out, to give you all a bit of aftercare with this little fluff story <3

Written in collaboration with @daneecastle

Word count: 578 words

Crowley had a favourite spot in the house. That spot was their library. It was gigantic considering the size of the cottage, filled with books from the floor to the ceiling, all neatly arranged for the angel to easily find whatever he was looking for. Aziraphale spent, when he wasn't at his bookshop, most of his time in this room, which he had arranged into a form of nesting project. The shelves were curved, forming a sort of natural path to the middle of the room, where couches, resting pillows, plaids of all sizes and forms and blankets had been disposed all over. He had made them all his own, depending on his reading mood of the day; but one thing he always did was give some space around him, allowing Crowley to join him whenever he felt like it. Today was one of those days; with winter fast arriving, Aziraphale had snuggled under some blankets, the demon found out, and he slid under them to come and rest against his chest as he was reading yet another 1800s book about men getting lost at sea.

He received a soft groan, followed by a warm chortle as Aziraphale realised he had nested against him. “Are you bored, my love?"

“What, do I need to get bored to seek out my angel, now?" he asked, reveling in the rumble in the angel's chest when he talked. He let a moment pass, wrapping his arm around his soft stomach. "I think we'll hear some complaining from the local parents in a bit." He let out a long growl as he was relaxing. The angel's smell had entirely inhabited the inside of the blanket, hugging his entire body.

The chuckle of the angel trickled in his body like warm water, and he snickered when he tensed up slightly. “Wait- Parents? What parents?” And the bastard lifted the blanket, stealing the accumulated heat from under it, and he groaned in discomfort. “What have you been up to, you wily snake?”

He opened his eyes to look at his partner. “Oh, just taught a neat little trick to the kids. I'm not sure the parents will fully appreciate the brilliance of it." Feeling further complaints coming his way, he continued, “Nothing harmful, I swear, you know I'd never do that to children."

Oh, he didn’t look happy at all, gasping in affront. “Trick? What trick?! And hearing that the parents are going to complain? That is really unsettling! What did you do?"

He snickered. “I taught them how to catch a falling egg with their feet without breaking it. And may or may not have convinced them to do the test in front of their parents. See? Just a silly little trick, but I do expect a few parents complaining about losing a dozen eggs to their kids being cocky with their new abilities." He reached up to him and kissed the corner of his lips.

“Eggs. Really, Crowley? Catching Eggs with their feet?" When he heard Aziraphale’s giggle, his eyes softened in adoration and he closed them, nuzzling up against him. “You know the parents are going to make us pay for the lack of eggs in their stores."

“I know. But the kids wanted to learn something, you know. I couldn't deny them that, and I had already told them all about gravity. 'twas a good way to apply that new knowledge." He sighed and smiled. "You smell really good today."

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens s2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #fluff

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amazingmsme · 4 months

Note

for the prompt thing could i ask for 13 with ler!paul and lee!richie?

they gotta have their much needed uncle/nephew bonding time! :D

This was SO MUCH FUN you have no idea!

Richie knew he was what some would call "scatter brained." Random thoughts would pop up at any time, day or night, and more often than not, he said what was on his mind.

"Hey Uncle Paul, how old are you?"

The question took him off guard and he looked at his nephew skeptically. "Uh, why are you asking?"

Richie shrugged, looking up from his phone. "I dunno, I just realized I don't know how old you are."

Paul thought it over and smirked. "Wait- guess."

Richie sat up straighter, rubbing his hands together mischievously. "46," Richie said, then immediately burst into laughter. Paul's eyes flew wide open in shock, and a little bit of betrayal.

"WHAT?" he screamed, making Richie laugh harder.

"It's a guess," he wheezed through his hysterics.

"THAT WAS SO FAR OFF!"

"Why're you yelling at me?" he asked, a smug, shit eating grin on his face.

"THAT WASN'T EVEN CLOSE! Like- okay so normally, when people ask that question they say, like, a little bit younger. "Was that your little bit younger guess?"

"Uh, yeah," Richie quipped. "You're like 49, aren't you?"

"What?" Paul cried out for the millionth time,

"So was I right?" he asked, as if that's what anyone would gleam from that reaction.

"Hell no! I'm not even in my 40's!" he exclaimed. Richie turned to him with furrowed brows.

"Oh. Really?" Then it seemed to "dawn" on him as his jaw dropped in revelation. A small gasp escaped as he spoke, "Oh I knew it, I was just being nice," he nodded solemnly.

"NO I'M NOT IN MY 50's, WHAT DO YOU MEAN "I KNEW IT"?" Paul screeched, making Richie fall against the couch in a fit of laughter. "I'M ONLY 32!"

"Damn, you old as hell," Richie mocked through bouts of laughter.

"Excuse me?" Paul asked, using his "mean adult" voice to get his attention. Richie didn't answer beyond hysterical laughter. "Hey! Don't laugh while I'm trying to talk to you!" he scolded lightly, fighting off a smile.

"What're you gonna do about it, old man?" he goaded. It was rare to see Uncle Paul so worked up, and it was hilarious.

"What I have to," he answered forlornly. Without warning, or perhaps that was Richie's warning, he latched onto his closest knee and squeezed. He shrieked and jerked his leg away, panic setting in as the tickling didn't stop.

“Wait wahahait I’m sohorry!” he pleaded, tucking his legs close to his chest and backed into the corner of the couch.

“Not as sorry as you’re gonna be,” Paul said with a smirk, reaching over to “crack an egg” on his knees, sending him into a fit of laughter. He drummed his feet on the couch, shaking his head back and forth.

“Ihihi’m sohorry nohohow!” he pleaded with a snort. Paul chuckled and decided to show the kid some mercy. He leaned back and ruffled his hair.

“Heh, yeah you are.”

#asks #anon ask #tgwdlm fic #npmd fic #paul is richie’s uncle #paul matthews #richie lipschitz #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #nerdy prudes must die #npmd #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #ticklish!richie

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playbucky · 10 months

Text

Make A Wish

You and Joel have been together for a while, on this birthday a few revelations happen. Characters – Joel x Reader, Sarah and Tommy. Word Count – 1.7k

‘I gotta go.’ You told them, ‘Enjoy breakfast, have an amazing day and celebrate winning your game too hard.’ You told Sarah, she smiled up at you as you pressed a kiss to the side of her head. ‘Happy birthday. Sorry I’ve gotta go in early but I’ll see you later.’ You told Joel, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek as you picked your bag up and walked out. ‘Oh, and I’ll pick up some cake, you decide where we’re ordering from.’ You pointed at Sarah as you stopped in the doorway. ‘Deal?’ You asked, her smile widened  ‘Deal.’ She agreed with a nod, you smiled back at her before you blew a kiss into the room and sprinted out. ‘Tommy’s here.’ They heard you shout before he entered the kitchen. ‘Happy birthday.’ Tommy said to Joel, he gave his brows a scowl but nodded. ‘How’d you land her again?’ He asked with his head tilted to the side, Joel grumbled as he stabbed the eggs. ‘Did she get you anything for your birthday?’ Tommy asked, a suggestive eyebrow raised. ‘Yeah, when it ticked over into the new day.’  ‘Dad.’ Sarah groaned Tommy chuckled. ‘You both have dirty minds, she got me some new shirts.’ He commented as he stood up, taking his plate and glass with him, he downed the orange juice as he reached the sink. ‘What the shirt that’s inside out.’ Sarah reminded him, he looked down and groaned, the plate dropped into the sink as he walked away. ‘He’s losing it.’ Tommy said, the bacon in his cheek. ‘You think he’s gonna propose tonight?’ Tommy asked, Sarah shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think he wants to do it on birthdays, mean I wouldn’t mind but he won’t want to spoil it.’ She told her uncle. ‘Maybe I’ll propose to her?’ Tommy suggested. ‘Not gonna happen.’ Sarah said, Tommy slouched against the counter but nodded. ‘Yeah, I don’t think I’d stand a chance.’ Tommy stated, Sarah nodded and stood up from the table. ‘You coming tonight?’ ‘Tonight, what’s happening tonight?’ He asked, Sarah nudged his shoulder. ‘Cake and takeaway.’ She informed her uncle, he narrowed his eyes. ‘Oh, not a special occasion then?’ He quizzed, she smiled. ‘I can’t, got a date with a lady friend, I’ll take your dad out later and maybe you and Y/N can join us?’ Tommy suggested, Sarah tilted her head. ‘Or you can take grumpy so Y/N and I can have a girl's night.’ Sarah suggested, Tommy arched an eyebrow. ‘Maybe.’ He said, shoving more food into his mouth. ‘We gotta go.’ Joel said, they moved towards the front door, dishes at the back of their minds as they got ready for the day ahead of them.

‘I’m back.’ You called, shutting the door with your hip as you balanced the cake on one hand. ‘Cake?’ Sarah asked as she appeared. ‘Nice to see you to, and yes, cake is here.’ You said, she smiled widely and skipped down the hallway before she took the cake from you and pressed a kiss to your cheek. ‘How was school?’ You asked her. ‘It was good.’ She replied. ‘Just good?’ You quizzed, she nodded and took a step back as you removed your jacket. ‘Yup, did work, learned something and then came back here.’ She said, you arched an eyebrow. ‘No sneaking away during the time we were away?’ You asked, she quickly shook her head, her thick hair moved on its own. ‘Never.’ She said, her back straightened as you playfully narrowed your eyes at her. ‘Mmm.’ ‘You’ll be doing it in a few years anyway.’ You told her with a shrug. ‘No, she won’t.’ Joel shouted from the living room, you removed your shoes and dropped your bag at the door. ‘I’m gonna put this in the fridge.’ Sarah said, you nodded before you separated. ‘Stop trying to corrupt her.’ Joel threatened as he looked up at you, you rolled your eyes. ‘I’m preparing you for it.’ You told him as you crossed the room, you stood at the edge of the couch, his arm automatically wrapped around your waist as your hand disappeared into his thick hair. ‘I don’t want to think about it.’ He grumbled, you chuckled as you leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. ‘I’m gonna go get changed.’ You mumbled against his head, he tilted his head all the way back into the soft cushion. ‘Dinners been ordered.’ He said, his hand rubbed your hip. ‘Amazing.’ You whispered and pressed a quick peck to his lips before you swiftly moved away so he couldn’t catch you.

‘Y/N.’ Sarah called out, you turned back to her. ‘Sweetie?’ You asked, she was sat underneath her covers, the soft pink duvet gathered on her crossed legs as she looked at you. ‘Everything okay?’ You quizzed, her eyebrows were pinched together. ‘Yeah, I just - ,’ She trailed off, focused on the covers. ‘Me problem or dad problem?’ You asked, head tilted to the side as you looked at her. ‘You.’ She said, you nodded. ‘Okay, want snacks?’ You quizzed her, she shook her head. ‘Oh, must be serious.’ You joked, you went to make your way over before she lifted her head. ‘Can you shut the door?’ Sarah asked, your brows furrowed as you shut it and walked over, carefully sitting on the edge of her bed. She didn’t say or do anything, you reached out and took a hold of her hand and ran your thumb over the back of her hand. Giving her comfort without saying it. ‘Do you love me?’ She asked, your eyes widened. ‘Of course I do.’ You replied. ‘Where is this coming from? Do I not tell you enough?’ You asked panicked that you only showed it to Joel and neglected her. ‘No, I mean yeah -,’ she let out a frustrated sigh. ‘I don’t like calling you Y/N.’ She stated, now it was your turn for your brows pinch together. ‘Okay.’ You said, ‘What do you want to call me instead?’ You asked her, she rubbed her lips together. ‘I was thinking mum, if that’s okay with you?’ Sarah quizzed, your heart stopped as you searched her face. ‘Mum?’ You asked, she frowned at you but nodded. ‘I’d love that.’ You told her, she smiled widely and lurched forward, her arms wrapped around your neck. ‘You’re crying.’ Joel stated, he placed the tv remote down onto the couch and quickly crossed over to you. ‘I am.’ You agreed with his statement, the warm tears lingered under your eyes. ‘Oh no, what have I done?’ He asked, his hands rested on your shoulders as he took you in. ‘Nothing, baby, nothing at all.’ You told him, he relaxed slightly. ‘Then why the tears?’ He quizzed, you reached up and wiped your cheek, the wetness spread across it. ‘She wants me to be her mum.’ You informed him, his hands dropped to his side. ‘What?’ He asked, you sniffed loudly and looked at him. ‘Sarah, she asked if it was okay for her to call me mum.’ Your voice cracked, Joel froze as you rubbed the heel of your hands into your eyes. ‘Joel?’ You asked, he blinked and focused back on you. ‘Are you okay with that?’ You asked him, he shook his head. ‘I should be asking you that.’ He said, you shook your head and stepped closer to him. ‘Joel… I -,’ you couldn’t find the words due to the hurricane that was spinning through your head. ‘What did you say?’ Joel asked, you inhaled shakily. ‘I said yes, but if I’ve over-stepped, I can talk with her.’ You quickly back tracked your answer when you saw the wrinkles on his forehead, deeper than normal. ‘No, no.’ He quickly said, he tried to push any insecurities away. ‘She beat me to it.’ He commented, a hand came up and scratched his chin, your brows pinched together. ‘What?’ You asked, not sure if you heard him correctly. ‘Just stay here, I’ll be back in two minutes.’ He said before you could give him an answer he jogged away, disappearing up the stairs. You listened as he pushed the door open up the stairs, he cursed when it hit the wall a little too hard. Drawers were opened before he quickly crossed the room again before he bounded down the stairs. ‘Joel?’ You asked, his eyes darted back up to you. ‘I’m hoping you’ll say yes to this, so it’ll become official.’ He said, your eyebrows jumped up when he opened the small black box. Your hands snapped to your mouth as you gasped, the small golden band encircled a small emerald. One of your hands reached out and took a hold of Joel’s wrist, you could feel his frantic heartbeat, his hand started to shake. ‘It’s beautiful.’ You breathed out. ‘Only one suitable enough for you.’ He commented, you looked at him. ‘I wanted to do this for a while, but I couldn’t find a perfect time but since Sarah’s asked you I want to make it official.’ Joel said, he carefully took the dainty ring out of the box before he chucked it onto the couch. ‘Will you do me the honour and marry me?’ Joel asked, he looked at you with wide eyes, you looked at him before you smiled and nodded. ‘Yes.’ You breathed out, he let out a breathy chuckle before pulled you in for a kiss. Joel placed a large hand on the back of your head, he pulled back from you but keep his forehead against yours. You both looked down as Joel took your hand, he carefully slid the ring onto your finger, your wriggled it into place. ‘Mmm, suits you.’ He said, you chuckled as he lifted your hand up and pressed a kiss on the knuckle above it. ‘Did you do it?’ Sarah asked, you both pulled away and looked at her. ‘Yeah he did.’ You said, she squealed and ran down the stairs before she bounded into your arms, Joel wrapped an arm around her as well.

#joel miller x reader #reader x joel miller #joel miller #joel miller imagine #the last of us #the last of us imagines #tlou x reader #reader x tlou #the last of us x reader #reader x the last of us #pedro pascal

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missicitty · 29 days

Text

I made seven sonnets about one-sided radiostatic because I guess I’m very deeply entrenched in this fandom now. This is my first ever post on this site, I’ve been on it for approximately two minutes now so if I mess up the tagging or whatever, just tell me please.

Anyway-

Sonnet 1

It all started when Vox sat in his tower

Quite bored, couch-sitting with Val and Velvette

He sat there contemplating Alastor’s power

Determined to have him in his clutches yet.

“There has to be a way,” his fury erupted,

“To topple his throne, get him here, make him pay.”

Val and Vel ignored him uninterrupted

These outbursts were common, the same day by day.

He rounded on them with a terrible groan.

“Listen to me, I need to defeat him.

But he has friends, I need friends of my own.

Let’s plot, scheme, plan something not on a whim.”

Vel looked up finally, sighing she says,

“You work on waves, so does he. Disrupt his.”

Sonnet 2

Vox posture relaxed, he was taken aback,

Their contributions were few and far between.

His obsession and his verbal attacks

They encouraged not and did not intervene.

But this was a plan, and not a half-bad one

He mused, pacing, thanking Vel as he went.

He had to start planning and get that plan done

With Alastor gone, he would be content.

But how to disrupt the Radio Demon

And kick him off of his own radio waves?

He would be stopped before he could even begin

Fighting head-on would be making his grave.

Then he stopped pacing, revelation struck

With a signal-blocking device, Al would be stuck!

Sonnet 3

Vox rushed his room, plugged his head in with glee

To make a device both subtle and strong

Until too late, Alastor shouldn’t see

This half-planned device that could do no wrong

Surely Vel and Val still sat grateful

That Vox’s obsession was turned to his work

To make a device that could be so fateful

They relaxed finally, still bored, jobs shirked.

But Vox was still tense as he worked without tire

Building programs, deleting, scrapping it all

Every click of the keyboard had passion of fire

Perfection was key, no wrong big or small.

Finally, after hours of hard toil,

It was done, complete, his work long-last assoiled.

Sonnet 4

Now to enact his plan most effective

He sent off a drone to infiltrate the hotel

It would, with luck, complete his objective,

Do what has failed prior for all of Hell.

He cackled with mirth as he set the drone free,

It had quite the girth as it sailed red skies

Precious cargo aboard, worth all can see.

Vox watched it from earth with stars in his eye.

It attached, like a fly, to the hotel wall

Its camera eye glinted as it drilled way inside

Then scuttled, a spider, scurrying down the hall

Sneakily slithered, snakelike, to where Alastor did reside.

Finally it breached, the mighty little bug,

Alastor’s room. It buried in a rug.

Sonnet 5

They waited, Bug and Vox, for Alastor

Anticipation nearly swallowed them whole.

But he came, cane clicking, as Bug ticked and whirred

It was quiet, Vox made sure to control.

Alastor stopped, his smile frozen in place

While both Bug and Vox stayed frozen in seats.

Did he notice Bug, which invaded his space?

Or would Vox’s mission be long-last complete?

Then he looked down to where Bug was hidden.

Vox’s brain-child, his brain-egg he freely exposed

To Alastor’s brain-sperm of thought, unbidden

They made Bug jointly, their joining predisposed.

He looked at the floor and gave a soft hum

And he plucked Bug between his forefinger and thumb.

Sonnet 6

“Why hello Vox, I am aware, my old friend,

Your spying, that’s old, that, I can allow,

But my room is a reach you cannot extend.

Arrive prompt, and by prompt I mean now.”

Bug chittered, scared, as Vox nervously sweat.

They were caught, no escape, their plan had failed.

Vox teleported there, his match had been met

Saw poor Bug trapped in Al’s grasp and he paled.

“I just want to talk, no harm meant I swear.

You know spying, for me, often crosses lines.

There were limits? I was not made aware.

I can go now, leave you and your confines.”

“No, you wanted to talk, let’s talk right here. ”

“I should leave, I’ve invaded your space, that’s clear.”

Sonnet 7

Then, with no hesitation, he dropped Bug

Who made a “ting” on the hard wood floor

For Alastor had moved the soft, plush rug

Crushed Vox’s work underfoot, destroyed forevermore.

It was a threat, that much was made glaring

No time to mourn, now Vox had to think fast-

Why would they talk? They made an odd pairing-

To cover his lie and escape un-harrassed

So quickly he blurted what came to mind

“I’m in love with you, I don’t want to fight.”

Alastor laughed loud, then rudely declined

On his heel turned, left, and turned out the light.

And Vox was left sitting, alone, in the room

Sonnets are about love, but this one is gloom.

#radiostatic #one sided radiostatic #hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox/alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel #pining #unrequited love #unrequited feelings #poetry #sonnet

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brewed-pangolin · 1 year

Text

Random Soap Headcanons

Happy Super Soap Sunday! Have a healthy serving of random and domestic Soap headcanons. 🧼

Warnings: None, unless you get offended by ridiculous fluff

Johnny is definitely the kind of man who wants to make you breakfast in bed. He's a decent cook, but breakfast is his absolute forte.

And you'll get all the fixins: eggs cooked just the way you like, bacon so perfect it literally melts in your mouth. And if you're feeling fancy, he'll gladly spice it up: hollandaise sauce, got it. Canadian bacon, you betcha. Home fries or hashbrowns, the choice is all yours.

You ask for white pudding, this man's Scottish heart will melt in your hands. Want Lorne sausage, there will be a devilish little twinkle in his eyes (you'll get his sausage later on)

Johnny always has the fridge and pantry full of everything and anything when he's home. The culinary world is at your disposal, all you have to do is ask. And he always keeps your favorite foods stocked when he's on missions. Can't have his girl getting a craving with no way to curb it.

Domestic Soap is an absolute thing of beauty. This man almost always has at least four different projects that he bounces back and forth with. His hands have to be busy doing something, or they'll be all over you. Then you won't get anything done, and you'll procrastinate and on and on and on....

You can sit in one room all day doing your chores and Johnny will be criss crossing the entire square footage of your shared house like he's mapping it for Google. You may find him standing in one room periodically from time to time. He's not lost, he's thinking. Rebooting as some might say. Sometimes there's so much going on in that crested brain of his he needs a moment of stillness to get back on track. Then it's back to next the project.

If there's ever a moment where you can't find him, or he's been quiet for too long just be patient. That's a telltale sign that he's getting frustrated and a slew of Scottish curse words are going to barrel out of his mouth. Take a moment and enjoy it, you may not understand a word he's saying but the sound they carry will never not make you giggle. And if you know what's good for you, don't be too loud.

"Ya think s'funny lass? Wannae fix th'shite yerself, yeah?”

It’s a warning or a challenge, you decide the outcome.

Soap is the absolute King of naps. Not only does he love them, he can take a power nap literally anywhere. Couch, yup. La-Z-Boy, absolutely. Underneath the sink that he’s been working on for an hour, why not. It’ll be so tempting to rouse him, but just let him be. He doesn’t get enough sleep while on missions so he makes up for it during his time on leave.

But if he’s craving a long relaxing nap, he’s not going it alone. Soap doesn’t care what you’re doing, you're joining him in a midday slumber.

“Johnny, I’ve got to finish this…” “Nuh-uh. Ya need a break, bonnie. Y’lookin o’erworked already. Besides, how can'ya say no to sleepin wit this?”

Arms outstretched with a cocky grin. Overconfident bastard knows you can’t deny him like that. And honestly, it’s true. Bodies wrapped together in blissful tranquility, even if you don’t sleep you embrace the stillness of him.

Okay, hear me out here. Johnny definitely owns a bike. Something sleek and classic, a Harley Davidson Fat Boy. He loves nothing more than being lost out on the open road with no destination in sight. And you never have to ask, you are always a welcome accompaniment. Johnny revels in the way your arms wrap around his waist. He’ll take those turns just a little too fast to feel you tighten your grip around him.

And if you really want to drive him wild, buck your hips into this back. Now he’s desperately on the lookout for a secluded roadside hideaway. He may not fuck you out here, but he’s jonesin for a helluva make-out session. (Top Gun, anyone)

Johnny is incredibly sensitive to touch, and reacts to yours almost instantly. When he looks troubled or is just not being his usual energetic self, have him come join you on the couch. Lay him down with his head in your lap and begin with slowly caressing his mohawk in a front to backward motion, you’ll see his features soften within the first few seconds. Johnny’s scalp, neck and shoulders are where he holds his tension, and are the most sensitive to your softest of touch. (Besides the other head, but that's for another time).

You don’t have to be forceful with your hands, just the slightest touch of your fingers running across his skin is enough to make him like putty in your hands. And you know he can’t help but give you praise when you treat him with such tenderness.

“Feels good, bonnie. Y’always s’good t’me.”

His words will be a muffled whisper, but they’re like ringing church bells to your ears. Your satisfaction is met when his soft breaths turn into deep inhalations, a telltale sign that he’s letting sleep take him over. Whether it be 20 minutes or 2 hours, you won’t dare wake him. He needs it, his body craves it. And you’re more than happy to oblige in whatever your loving Scot desires.

When it comes to actual sleep, Johnny is like a hibernating grizzly bear. Good luck trying to rouse him from his REM sleep, you could try to push him off the bed and he’d just keep on snoring. And like a heavy weighted blanket he’s going to want an arm, a leg, or all of him over you. Best to get into a comfortable position, because you’re gonna be stuck there all night.

And when Johnny sleeps he’s like a furnace. It’s fantastic during the winter months, you barely have to turn the heat on when you’re sleeping with an actual industrial heater. But the summer months can be unbearable. Cue you having a fan on, constantly. However you still cherish those hot summer nights with him, because you know they can be few and far between.

You treasure every day, hour, minute and second with him. You know soon the world will come and take him away from you, and all you’ll have is the memories of him keeping you satisfied until he comes through your door once more. That and the Lorne sausage, best to always keep that in stock.

#random soap headcanons #domestic soap #super soap sunday #soap squad #soap squad 🧼#john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #john mactavish #johnny mactavish #soap mactavish #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #call of duty modern warfare

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jils-things · 6 months

Text

nobody asked but here's how jaide got pipino 🥚

it was at that point where jaide, red and blue all reunited in alola and they're getting accustomed to each other again (mostly red to both of them since jaide and blue had been consistently catching up with each other already). redjaide is still in the platonic stages, with red slowly relieving his puppy crush on her years ago (but of course he's not gonna fuckin say anything yet LMAOOO).

anyways - one day in alola, blue just so happen to be mostly out of the scene when red and jaide, who were drinking together in the small cafe inside the pokecenter - noticed a lost egg covered in a blanket, left in a lounge couch alone.

worried, jaide would try to look if the egg had an owner of its own but nobody in the center seemed to have noticed. she insists on keeping the egg to find the owner before it hatches - and she lets red tag along with her to find the owner.

now red usually isn't one to ask others but he would try to help jaide ask people if they seen or had recently lost an egg by simply tapping on their shoulder and quietly asking if they know anything about this missing baby. though jaide was a lot more enthusiastic about it, making quick chit chat and asking them about it. their approaches were different, but they got the job done.

sadly they struggled to really find the owner, so she'd bring the egg at her hotel and talk to blue and red on what they'd do with... the thang.... she filled blue in and explained what happened. blue insists to just keep looking because the fact it was wrapped in a blanket meant that someone was trying to watch over it. so jaide continued to try to ask around, but not beyond the island at least.

eventually they do find the owner, it belonged to a little girl who wanted to keep an egg to grow up with her but she forgotten to pick up her egg after leaving the pokecenter for whatever reason. jaide would happily give it to her, until the egg would hatch on the spot - it was a togepi.

the togepi, held in jaide's hands - would immediately assume that jaide was its parental figure and quickly become attached to her - and well, togepi had already developed a bond/comfort since jaide had been actively carrying the egg for quite some time.

the pokedex also mentions that the first thing it sees and assumes when it hatches is the parent (or maternal figure in this case)

the togepi would lovingly lunge at jaide's chest, yearning for her familiar warmth. this wasn't supposed to happen! she would frantically swears that it's not her pokemon, but togepi clung on to her like a child to its mom. red would be surprised at this revelation, mostly because he himself wasn't too well-versed in hatching baby pokemon since he's been with the same team as kid. somehow, togepi would also recognize red, maybe not all too well like jaide, but it has felt his warmth a few times to have it ingrained in its mind! it would chirp happily at red, but he wouldn't understand what that meant.

the little girl can't help but notice... a nice connection between the three. she giggles and tells jaide that she can keep the pokemon. she'd argue that she's still not ready yet, and one example of her not being ready was her neglecting the egg in public. I mean, a child raising a baby is no easy task as well, so maybe these two were a better fit. they were trainers after all...

jaide felt a little guilty, but she can't help but admit the way togepi stares at her keeps drawing her in. she promises to take good care of togepi and they depart from there. jaide would also gift the girl an ultra ball just to show her thanks, and maybe someday the little girl can catch her own pokemon as well.

with that exchange, both parties depart.

blue, who had been watching this all at the back would jokingly congratulate jaide for being a mom, to which she elbows him, giggling. he would ask about what she'd name togepi. she would awkwardly confess that she had been coming up with silly names while they were on that little mission.

"pipino sounds cute. i'm keeping that."

blue would give a weird glare by how quickly she came up with a name but then again - that's jaide for him. same girl as ever to him.

togepi, even in jaide's arms would sometimes glance at red and chirp with an adorable wave, and he'd ... awkwardly tip his hat and wave at it too.

not only would her alola trip be fruitful with alolan pokemon data, but she found herself a new friend to bring along with her.

#~ rambling #im outside rn it took awhile for my classmates to start our filming LMAO #anyways.... hehe BEBE LORE!!!!!!! BE UPON YOU!!#EGG LORE!!!!#ily pipino forever ACCCKKKKRKJFFK #this was fun to write :3 #pipino tag #♥️ appleshipping #<- not exactly the central focus but its kinda there!#blue.plat #~ loreposting

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blurredcolour · 2 years

Text

Nom De Plume | Part Three

Nom De Plume Masterlist

Summary: A party is never just a party, particularly when hosted by Cloé Elgin.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Reader

Warnings: Emotional Whiplash, Mean Girl Trope, Alcohol Consumption, Allusion to Drug Use, Angst, Tears, Bullying of Reader, Confrontational Situations, Romanticization of France, Reference to Character Bleed, Vague Understanding of Movie Production, Mature/Explicit Themes – 18+ Only

Word Count: 6067

»» ────── ஓ ๑ ✧ ๑ ஓ ────── ««

You had been out of sorts all day. Since you woke up…like that. From that dream. From that orgasm. Time was hard to keep track of and it flowed through your fingers like water as you constantly found yourself staring off into space while taking your shower, while cooking your eggs, while choosing your outfit.

If you had a better relationship, or more accurately any relationship, with Cloé you would have begged off sick from the party. If you had messaged Austin that you weren’t feeling up to it, he would have surely appeared with a muffin basket, and you really could not handle him in the same space where you had just…

How would you even finish that sentence?! Cum at his expense? No one had been harmed but it somehow felt exploitative and extremely complicated. Clearly the whole thing was rooted in more than just smoldering desire from those two hours in your office. It was tied up tightly with the warmth in your chest and the trembling in your abdomen. It was apparent that your psyche was no longer ok with you willfully ignoring the symptoms. You had most definitely developed feelings for Austin, and there was no way to deny it any longer. So, what to do with this newly confirmed knowledge? Keep it to yourself? Try and ignite some sort of awkward conversation with the gorgeous, blonde Adonis who had surely been written by a woman?

You stepped off the train at Paddington station and pulled out your phone to follow your map app’s directions to the building where Cloé and Austin were staying. Even though it would take nearly an hour-and-a-half to get there, you would just show your face, extend an olive branch, and go home. The idea that you could have at least neutrality with Cloé was motivation enough.

The doorman took your name, letting you in to the gorgeous apartment building, and you rode the elevator up to the sixth floor. The hall was filled with revelers, all the doors open as it seemed the cast members were staying all on the same floor, and that entire floor had become one party space. You recognized a mix of cast and crew milling about, every single one of them with a beverage in hand. Every last one at least a little tipsy. You wove your way through the mass of them toward Cloé’s apartment number.

“Criiiiickeeeeee’!” You heard Austin’s jovial slur as you walked past one of the open doors and peered in to see him holding court with Cloé draped across his lap, her lips latched onto his neck. You felt immediately and intensely sick – bile rising in your throat, stomach in knots, palms sweating. “Let’s getcha a drink!”

The table in front of him was laden with glassware, smoked and unsmoked cigarettes, and the remnants of tidy lines of white powder. It was as though the universe had compiled every reason for you to remain an anonymous author and presented it in one tableau. Numbly, you settled into a chair across from the two of them, and someone…Ryan?...From the lighting crew?... put a disposable cup in your hand. You made polite small talk with him as the plastic crinkled faintly in your death grip.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Cloé working the remaining buttons of Austin’s shirt open as he watched you with glassy, unfocused eyes and took generous sips of his drink. You poured all of your attention into Ryan then, throwing him softballs to encourage him to expound on his extensive career. At some point during all this Cloé pulled Austin from the couch and behind a closed door. It must have had a hollow core as you could hear their bodies collide against it. The way her lilting French combined with his rich, husky moans. You abruptly excused yourself and set the untouched cup of liquid down, forcing yourself to walk to the elevators at a normal pace.

You managed to maintain that pace until you were outside the building and that was when you allowed your legs to burst into a run. Allowed the tears you had been holding back by sheer will to pour down your cheeks. You found a small, quiet park with a bench and sat down heavily to succumb to your anguish. Pulling out your phone, you hiccupped as you angrily texted Pearce. He was, of course, completely blameless. But you could not yell at oblivious, entangled Austin. So, Pearce would have to do.

– I should have never let you talk me into this. What a fucking mistake this whole thing was. –

You stared at the screen angrily, waiting for his reply, roughly wiping at your eyes with your shirtsleeve. You jumped as your phone started vibrating with his phone call.

“Pearce…I don’t…I can’t…” You babbled tearfully as you tucked the phone into the crook of your shoulder.

“Ok, ok, hold on. Where are you?” He asked as a particularly aggressive cabbie honked angrily at some pedestrians crossing the road behind you.

“Fuck if I know…” You looked around, overwhelmed and, frankly, lost. Your breath shuddered as you tried to calm down.

“Send me your location, I’m coming to get you, and you’re going to speak to me in full sentences.” He said sternly before ending the call.

You did as you were told, feeling reassured that an adult was taking charge of the situation. Twenty minutes later a cab pulled up beside you and Pearce jumped out, waving you in. A fresh wave of tears flooded your eyes as you slid into the back with him, sniffling and chewing your lips the entire drive back to his apartment. He installed you on his couch with a box of tissues and pressed a hot mug of tea into your hands.

“Out with it.” He said in a tone that was both gentle and commanding.

You took a sip of the tea, for courage you supposed, before you began pouring your feelings out all over his living room. It was halting at first, until your words were coming out faster than your mouth could form them. As you spoke, you came to realize that though Austin had not done anything explicitly wrong, he had truly hurt you. Clearly your feelings had been one sided, all those visits to your apartment and those car rides had been purely professional for him. And you had never had the chance to put your emotions into words for him, so naturally, he had no idea how you felt. But you were also feeling quite set-up by Cloé. She had seen your attraction to Austin clear as day and dangled acceptance into the clique in front of you to get you to that party just so she could show off that she had turned Austin into her fuck toy.

Pearce was suitably sympathetic and outraged on your behalf, ensuring a constant supply of tea and biscuits to fuel your outpouring.

“I’m…I’m so sorry. This was not…” He, an accomplished screenwriter, struggled for words after you finally fell silent.

“No…no neither of us could have known, I suppose…I’m sorry I yelled at you over text…” You sniffed and he laughed once, shaking his head.

“Well clearly you don’t want to see either one of them for a while, hm?”

“Fuck, I have no idea how I’m supposed to work with them for the next eight weeks.” You looked down, brows furrowed.

“Well I. I hope you’ll stay, and I do have an idea for the next week at least?” He offered hopefully and you looked up to meet his eyes. “The set is closed for the next five days of shooting anyway, as they’re filming scenes with nudity. Which I am also very certain you do not wish to be a part of.” He grinned a little at your emphatic nod. “So, I’ll do set this week and you do dailies for me.”

Your eyes widened.

“But that’s…way above my pay grade, I’d have no idea what I’m doing in there?!”

“Honestly? I just read along with the script and confirm which takes are accurate. Otherwise, Greta knows exactly what she’s looking for.”

“What if…she sees right through me? I’m…not very good at hiding my opinions…” You fidgeted with your hair nervously.

“Would it be so bad if she knew?” He raised his eyebrows and you sighed softly, shaking your head.

“No, I trust her. Barely know her but, she’s just a lovely person…”

“That’s settled then. And when you are back on set, it’ll be fully clothed scenes for a week and then France.” He waggled his eyebrows and your breath hitched in your throat.

“France…oh we’re so close aren’t we…” You murmured, aching to see Normandy. To see places that you had only ever visited in your mind.

Pearce smiled softly and patted your head.

“Exactly. Now, you can sleep in my guest room tonight, no use in you navigating your way back to Slough in your current state.”

He tucked you up into bed and right before you turned out the light, Austin had texted you his call time. You replied that you were on dailies that week and would make your own way to and from the studio. You then turned off the phone. Despite your swirling mind and the cold hollow feeling below your sternum, a deep, dreamless sleep was merciful enough to take you. You took the train back to Slough with Pearce the next morning, stopping to shower and change at your apartment before heading into Pinewood around noon.

Even though set was closed, every corner of the studio was buzzing with news of Austin and Cloé’s romance. The story of the rocking trailer from two days ago growing more and more epic with each retelling. If it was to be believed, and that was a big if, they had hooked up right after she dragged him for your office. That was a particularly awful piece of math to calculate.

You got a text from Pearce when filming finished for the day and decided to take the long way to the editing suite, making sure to avoid make-up, wardrobe, and especially the trailers. Greta was making her way down the hall from the more direct route and smiled to see you there waiting for her.

“Hi! Pearce told me you two decided to divide and conquer, a very wise decision. Come on in.” She led you into the compressed version of a theatre with a bank of editing equipment about halfway back from the screen.

She was so gracious and welcoming, offering you dinner as she ate hers. You could tell she was weeks into multi-tasking, and you could not help but be impressed by her upbeat attitude despite the chaos of her life. Watching Austin and Cloé mimic the act of love making in high definition was decidedly painful and you clung to your script binder like a ship to anchor in a hurricane. It was helpful to have something to be able to focus on, to give purpose to the whole exercise.

While it was maybe not an Olivia-Rodrigo’s-SOUR-on-repeat level of devastation, traitor did become your anthem for that week.

guess you didn’t cheat but you’re still a traitor

There were comfort foods, copious amounts of tears, and heart spilling conversations at all hours with Pearce and your closest friend. They helped you lay your burgeoning feelings for Austin to rest, to let go of what was clearly not meant to be. They helped you keep yourself in one piece and focused on your desire to ensure your novel was properly translated onto film.

You and Greta proved to work well together, a natural partnership solidifying between the two of you.

“I’ve asked Pearce if I can keep you next week, too. He was delighted to have an earlier finish time, but what are your thoughts?” She asked you as that week of shooting came to a close.

You smiled warmly and nodded.

“I would love to.”

“Great, and we will need your eye on set as well. Big climax with the fight scene next week.”

“Of course, yes. Thank you very much for your faith in me, Greta.”

She winked warmly and went off to do yet another task that night. You could not help but wonder if she had figured it out… Making a mental note to never, ever get into directing, you happily headed home for a few days rest and fortification. You had managed to avoid Austin, and Cloé, for a week. But you had a job to do, and you would have to come face to face with them eventually.

You were thankful there was a new face on set this week; Jannis Niewöhner had arrived to portray Leutnant Khöler the German lieutenant who provided Yvette with special favour in return for sex. The reason she was labelled as a collaborator. He was very kind, very handsome, and a refreshing brunette contrast to Austin’s golden blonde. You had been very impressed with his acting in Munich: Edge of War and his casting announcement had thrilled you.

He was idly chatting with Pearce and yourself as Austin strolled onto set with Cloé hanging from his lanky frame possessively. The pair of them were so completely wrapped up in one another, in their own little world, that it was easy to avoid their notice. Greta called Jannis over onto set to run through the shots of that day and you sat behind Pearce, watching quietly. Cloé alternated between preening and laying claiming hands on Austin’s chest and shoulders.

He hadn’t texted you in over a week, you realized. No questions, no offers of a ride. Complete silence. What a naïve fool you had been. And how odd it was to be so hurt by someone so oblivious. About midway through the morning, you slid from your chair, asking Pearce and Greta if they wanted anything from craft services. Cloé happened to the flouncing by and jumped in on the order completely uninvited.

“Yeah I’ll have a half-caf extra hot oat latte with cinnamon sprinkles and Aus will have…Babe? Drink?” She yelled back over her shoulder, and you ducked your head to make quick notes on your phone, hoping he wouldn’t notice you were involved.

“Black coffee, babe!” He replied before turning back to talk to Jannis.

“Got it.” You said tersely before she could open her mouth again and made a quick exit. You grabbed an extra coffee for Jannis, because hey you were already juggling two full trays and he deserved to feel welcome. Thankfully one of the crafties held the door open for you and you slipped back into the studio to deliver the drinks, setting the tray with three actors’ cups near their chairs as they were deep in discussion with Greta again.

You did your very best to stay low and out of Cloé’s eye line for the rest of the day but eventually a trip to the washroom was required. As you were washing your hands you noticed your hair needed a bit of attention and you used your damp fingers to try and tidy it. One of the stalls behind you opened and out sashayed Cloé, her eyes meeting yours in the mirror coldly.

“Merde you are so plain…” She mused before laughing maliciously, the sound following her and her unwashed hands out of the washroom.

Your eyes flooded with heat, and you blinked back unbidden tears. You had felt such a relief graduating from high school, leaving the queen bee of your generation behind. Apparently, they were just out in the wild in this industry. You roughly pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes to cram those tears back in before you headed back out to do your job like a fucking professional. You watched from your chair as filming continued.

Somehow, the fact that she perfectly captured the nuanced character of Yvette made the fact that she was a raging bitch in real life so much worse. If you could hate all of her maybe it would have been easier. Easier to watch her hold Austin under her spell. Easier to endure her cruel comments and demeaning requests of you. But nothing could make it easier to tolerate her campaign for Yvette to have a superhero glory moment.

The climax of the movie involved Yvette taking the bullets Leutnant Khöler fired at Antoine, with Antoine dealing the killing blow to the lieutenant with a pitchfork. Around day three of that week, Cloé had begun wheedling and pushing for Yvette to be the one to wield the pitchfork, taking the shots as a result of her actions rather than for Antoine.

By day five, you had reached your limit. She was planted in front of Greta and Pearce, arguing for the sake of her ego in a whiny and entitled voice. You snapped, leaping to your feet, your binder crashing to the ground as it was launched carelessly from your lap.

“Because that’s not who Yvette IS! She’s not some warrior princess, she’s not badass. She’s an ordinary person in extraordinary times! Ordinary! Not the same old extraordinary people Hollywood trope. I will not allow you to ruin the essence of her character for your vanity!” The words tore out of as you found yourself unable to take one more moment of her condescension and arrogance.

Deafening silence flooded the entire studio as all eyes turned to settle on the drama unfolding. No one dared to move, dared to breathe as you crossed your arms, your own eyes fixed on Cloé.

She had looked between Pearce and Greta, seeking back-up. “So we’re just going let some assistant tell us what to do here?! What a fucking bore this movie is going to be” “I am afraid, Cloé, that I will have to defer to the author here.” Greta said coolly, the long evening hours in the editing suite having obviously given you away.

Your grip on the sleeves of your shirt tightened until your fingers were numb as you fought hard to school your face. As every single person turned to stare at you openly. Including Cloé. Including Austin. That was that, then.

“Thank you.” You managed to breathe in gratitude to Greta before turning to walk out of the studio, yet again forcing your feet to move at a normal pace. You sighed to yourself as you opened the door to a deluge of warm spring rain, hesitating a moment, the desire to flee making your lungs burn before you dashed out into it. You skidded to a stop as you heard your name shouted across the parking lot and turned to look back at Austin, standing under an umbrella held up by his make-up artist who had politely turned their back to you but still…you were not alone.

“Cricke’, I…well I don’ know wha’ ta say I…”

You laughed bitterly as the rain soaked further into your clothes and hair.

“Austin you’re only out here because I wrote the fucking thing.” You croaked, eyes welling with tears as you finally allowed yourself to speak honestly. “Go back to your starlet.” You turned and marched off through the wind and rain and puddles, leaving him speechless under his umbrella.

Once you had been certain you were out of his sight you broke into a run, dashing up to your office and treating yourself to a cab ride home. You pulled out your phone only after a hot shower and a change of fresh, comfortable clothes. You chose only to reply to Pearce, apologizing and asking him to cover dailies that evening, which he was more than happy to do for you. You ignored the texts from Austin.

You stood at the knock on your door, thinking it was your Chinese delivery. And well, it was in way, but carrying it was Greta. Your eyes shot wide. Glancing down to your comfy clothes, you frowned, but she was shaking her head.

“Can I give you a hug?” She asked softly and you looked to her startled for a moment before nodding your head ‘yes’.

She stepped in and hugged you tightly, careful to balance the food behind you.

“I’m sorry you had such a shitty day on set…” She said as she pulled back and you waved her into your apartment.

“It was in no way your fault, Greta…” You watched in stunned silence as she unpacked the food and guided you to sit with her on the couch.

“I’d heard Cloé was problematic from others in the industry, and I am so grateful you found a way to be with us to protect the intent of your writing, but I am also extremely sorry that she pushed you to the breaking point today.”

You sniffled as you found your eyes yet again damp.

“You’re doing such a good job of it, I’m so excited you’re the director.” You gushed in a watery voice, and she laughed softly, pulling you into another tight hug.

“We really need you around…we’ve got all the location scenes in France to shoot, and we won’t make it without you. So. What do I need to do to make you stay?” She asked you frankly and you gulped.

“Abso.absolutely nothing, I am.” You took a deep steadying breath. “I am perfectly happy to continue as we have been…” It was somewhat of a lie but her confidence boosting heart-to-heart was working wonders on you in that moment.

“Well, we both know that’s not possible. But my thought is this. The splinter unit is going to Germany for the next three weeks to film fighting scenes for the paratrooper unit. I was thinking of sending Pearce with them and keeping you in Normandy with me while we film Yvette’s back story.” Seeing you hesitate she hastened to add, “Cloé has already changed her tune. Apparently once she learned you were the author, she had a full melt down in her trailer. I would expect apology flowers any minute. She’s not nice but she knows who to suck up to.”

You nodded thoughtfully, knowing it would give you a break from Austin again…and after you’d just shouted at him in public that would surely be for the best.

“Yes. Yvette is the whole story; Antoine is just the love interest. So yes, I would be happy to help ensure we get it right.” You managed to voice.

She grinned brightly in reply and the two of you dug into your takeout. It was a good thing she had appeared; you had ordered far too much food. As she predicted, a vase of a dozen white roses, apparently a flower for forgiveness, arrived not twenty minutes later. You had not realized the weight you had been carrying around as you pretended to be something you weren’t. It was all out in the open now, and you adored discussing and owning your writing with Greta.

Before you knew it, you were unpacking your bags in the Saint-Lô hotel that would be your home for the next six weeks. France did her very best to heal your still-tender heart, offering you springtime blossoms and warm buttery croissants. Even Cloé was on her best behaviour here as she deferred to you easily and often. These scenes were pivotal to de-stigmatizing the survival actions of women in occupied Europe. It was easy to look back and crow that one would have never stooped so low as to entertain the affections of a Nazi officer, but you had been determined to prove that humans did whatever it took to survive, and they should not all be shamed for it.

There was a fine line between those you were trying to redeem, and the type of collaborators who were complicit, or active participants, in the persecution of their neighbours. That was what made this series of scenes so very crucial to nail. Watching the dailies from both the main unit and the splinter unit, you and Greta were cautiously optimistic that everything was coming together quite nicely. Keeping merely a portion of Greta��s schedule was exhausting, and left you no time to explore the country that you had been so excited to finally set foot in.

So, the free day you found yourself with at the end of the first three weeks was a blessing. The sun was shining, the weather was warm, and you were excited to get out and explore. You slid on a good pair of walking shoes and pulled open the door, jumping with a shout as Austin was right there, hand raised, having been about to knock. You pressed your hand to your chest to slow your beating heart and let the nervous laughter bubble up your throat.

“Sorry! Sorry, Austin. Some day I won’t yell at you. I promise.” You smiled softly and found that your heart hurt significantly less than the last time you had seen at him.

His raised hand shifted to rub against the back of his neck nervously as he chuckled softly.

“Some day I won’t scare you, cricket. I promise.” He replied and you found yourself staring at his voice. His real voice. A hint of Elvis’s twang still hung around like a bad penny, but the rest of the vowels were all Southern California. “Are you…headed out somewhere?”

You nodded dumbly before shaking your head to clear your brain, trying to remind yourself how to speak.

“Just going out for a walk around, nowhere in particular.” You bit your lower lip, rocking back and forth on your heels a little. “D…did you want to join me?” You had come to realize, over the last three weeks apart, that you really ought to apologize for the lies you had spun around him. Somewhere outside seemed to be the safest place, particularly as the entire production was booked into the hotel rooms around you.

It was his turn to look startled, but he managed a nod.

“Can I just…grab a hat?”

“Of course.” You smiled softly and he easily strode a few doors down the hall with his long legs before using his key to dart in and grab a black baseball cap. He fixed it on his head as his long strides brought him back over to you and the pair of you headed down the stairs and out the front door. “Do you have a favourite direction?” You asked, trying to ease the tension a little.

“Mmmm south.” He replied, rubbing his fingers along his jaw and you nodded, turning to follow the road that way. The pair of you walked in silence as the town thinned, and nothing but farms and fields surrounded you.

“I just wanted to…” He started at the same moment you blurted, “I’m sorry, Austin.”

He stopped walking and turned to look at you, stunning blue eyes wide with shock. You swallowed tightly.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been lying to you since the day I met you.” You forced yourself to look into those eyes as you apologized. “I’m sorry I yelled at you in public and made assumptions.” You stopped as he held up a hand, pinching the bridge of his nose with the fingers of the other as he shook his head.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing.” He cut in and you still found that normal voice distracting. “I got in way too deep. And I let things happen that I am not proud of. And I know that I hurt you.” You swallowed roughly at the anguish in his tone and looked to the side, finding a sudden, intense interest in a herd of dairy cows.

“You don’t have to apologize for that, Austin, we weren’t…”

“But I wanted us to be.” He said quickly and your eyes shot back to his, stunned. “I got so wrapped up in Antoine and Yvette that I didn’t stop Cloé when she made a move on me that day. I lost sight of Austin and Cricket and hurt all of us in the process. I ended whatever that was. It was…I just hope I haven’t fucked up the movie as well.” The wobble in his voice made your breath hitch in your throat and you reached up quickly to squeeze his shoulder.

“The dailies look great, Austin. It’s coming together so well, and Greta is so happy…” You hurriedly reassured him, your own voice wavering with emotion.

He looked to you, eyes shining with unshed tears, and you stepped forward, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I forgive you, Austin.” You murmured against his chest, feeling his arms coming to wrap around you, pulling you tightly into his rosewood and cinnamon scent. You had missed that scent…

“There’s nothing to forgive you for cricket, but I am happy to say I do forgive you if it helps.” He sniffled, laying his cheek on the top of your head.

“Pretty sure not lying is one of the ten commandments so there is definitely something to forgive me for. So, thank you for doing so.” You pulled back to look up at him and he smiled weakly.

“Thank you, cricket.” He murmured and you chuckled.

“I don’t think either of us are going to out-apologize or out-thank the other, so should we maybe quit while we’re ahead?” You smiled softly, squeezing him once more before stepping back from his embrace as he laughed softly.

He took your hand and you found yourself lacing your fingers through his as though you’d done it a million times. His smile widened and he continued walking down the road with you until you came across a small café overlooking a field that was actively being tilled in preparation for the growing season. He tugged gently on your hand and led you inside where the scent of freshly baked bread enveloped the pair of you.

“It smells amazing in here…” You murmured and somehow you managed to communicate with the staff in a mix of languages and gestures, ordering some sandwiches and drinks, sitting out on the terrace surrounded by lilac bushes.

You were beaming like a kid in a candy store as it felt like walking straight into your own novel. You closed your eyes as you savoured a bite of your sandwich, sipping your drink slowly.

“This is perfect. I’m only going on walks with you from now on cricket. None of them have ever turned out this nice before.” He smiled warmly and you looked down shyly.

You could not lie, you missed the Louisiana accent, but the intention behind using his regular speaking voice was not lost on you. He was making a deliberate effort to separate himself from the character and spend time with you as himself. Besides, the nickname he had bestowed upon you still sounded very good this way, too.

“This is a first for me, too. Must be some kind of combined magic.” You replied softly, wiping some crumbs from your lower lip with your napkin. You did not miss the way his eyes followed your movements. “How was Germany?” You tried to refocus him, not quite ready to consider ‘Austin and cricket’ just yet.

His eyes quickly rose to meet yours.

“It was great! Boys trip is what it felt like. It was really interesting to explore that part of Antoine. It was also really nice to have Yvette’s reply tucked into my breast pocket.”

You felt heat spreading along your cheek bones up to the tips of your ears.

“I saw that…in one of the dailies; you reading it in the background of one of the shots.” You worried your lip with your teeth lightly. “I’m a terrible liar, I really don’t know how I managed to get so far…”

He chuckled softly and shook his head.

“In retrospect, I probably should have seen it in the way Pearce deferred to you. The perfect answers to my thousand questions. How easily you wrote that reply from Yvette.” He paused, pressing his lips together before tilting his head. “May I ask you something, though?” He continued as you nodded. “Why were you so determined to remain anonymous?”

You exhaled slowly, considering the best way to answer this without repainting that moment from the party in London.

“I live a very ordinary life. I have a regular job and I can go out and do things without anyone noticing me except my friends and family. It’s comfortable. And watching the way the public life tends to chew people up and spit them out. Well, I was terrified. Not that I, in any way, shape, or form expected my novel to do this well. But the potential of it scared me, what I could lose as a result. But it turned out that Yvette’s character was more important than all of that to me. And that is something I will have to reckon with soon, I’m sure.” Your fingers twisted and tugged at your napkin as you struggled to explain yourself, eyes fixed on your empty plate in front of you. “Sorry I’m rambling, I’m so much better on paper.” You glanced up at him and hesitated at the intensity of the look he was giving you.

“I’m sorry…” He rasped out, apologizing yet again and your eyebrows came together in confusion. “I’m sorry that you were put in the position of having to make that choice.”

“It was my choice to come here, pretend to be someone else.” You shrugged your shoulders, still unsure what the fallout of it all would be.

His hand reached across the table, fingers enveloping yours, squeezing gently.

“Brave little cricket…” He smiled fondly and you laughed shyly, picking at some imaginary lint on your thigh. “I’m really, very fond of you. I had every intention of asking you out that night before…. everything got wildly out of control.” He pulled at his plush lower lip with his free hand as you glanced up at him through your eyelashes. “And I would still really like to but I’m going to hold off until…. until I can get this film out of my system.” Your mouth started moving, trying to make words…sounds even…to no avail. “You don’t have to answer now I just, wanted to get that out there.” He smiled softly and squeezed your hand again before standing slowly. “We should head back before it gets too late.”

You nodded quickly and stood with him, walking back to your hotel in a sort of dazed silence, heart having completely lost track of its normal rhythm as the feelings you thought you had laid to rest were quivering to life in your chest. Yes, he had hurt you. Especially with the latest insight that he had reciprocated your feelings before Cloé… It was difficult to say what she had done; what Austin’s level of instigation and participation had been.

There seemed to have been some element of character bleed – the dark side of method acting. And one could argue you hadn’t really met Austin until today. Had been working alongside a person who was at least in part, if not completely, Antoine.

And yet.

Your attraction, your adoration for Austin had re-ignited so easily over the course of a few hours. You were admittedly grateful for his insistence that he would not pursue you fully until filming ended. Some time to process, to be very certain, would be the best for both of you. He stopped in front of the door to your room, and you looked up to him as cupped your cheek gently.

“Thank you very much for the incredible day.” He smiled, fingers caressing your cheekbone.

You fought against the urge to flutter your eyelids to look into those deep azure eyes.

“Right back at you, Austin.” You murmured shyly and licked your lips.

His eyes followed the movement of your tongue intently, inhaling sharply through his teeth, hissing a little before he forced himself to take a step back.

“See you tomorrow.” He smiled, pulling off his hat and running his long fingers through his hair before heading down the hall to step into his room as you unlocked your door and fell onto your bed to smother the tiniest, but giddiest, squeal in the bedding.

»» ────── ஓ ๑ ✧ ๑ ஓ ────── ««

Read Part Four

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#austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler x afab!reader #reader #y/n #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler angst #austin butler #blurredcolour #nomdeplumefic

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fitrahgolden · 7 months

Text

Lilies and Soap: 6 - Someone to Keep

[NOTE: What’s this? A chapter whose word count actually surpasses 2k? From little ole moi?]

"Knew what I wanted

Didn’t know that I had it

Someone I’ll continue

To see while I sleep

I'll love her out loud

Kneel at her altar

She's ever above me

Someone to keep"

"Someone to Keep" by A. E. Bridgerton.

Lyrics by A. E. Bridgerton.

—

Anthony and Benedict sat in the green room of a late night talk show, watching the monologue on the screen that was mounted to the wall.

"I know I've been an idiot." Anthony rested his head against the back of the couch, not looking in Benedict's direction.

"Brilliant. Are we talking about anything specific?" Benedict asked with a grin.

"Fuck off," he scoffed, then added quietly, "but, yes."

"Oh."

Anthony turned to look at his brother. Benedict seemed to already know what Anthony was talking about.

"I've really hurt her, haven't I?"

Benedict shrugged as he started to answer and Anthony knew from the look on his face that that answer was going to be short of the truth.

“Ben, come on.”

Benedict sighed and his shoulders slumped. "You didn't mean to, Ant. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But I've hurt her."

"She's…been having a hard time."

Anthony winced. "You've talked about it?"

"Not technically. We've been not talking about it for a little while now."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because it's for you two to sort out. To say something or not say something. To name it or pretend it isn't there."

Anthony raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's true,” Benedict insisted. “And… she may have asked me not to say anything."

Anthony nodded. "While you were 'not talking about it.'"

"Right."

"Right," Anthony parroted.

"So… I take it you've had some sort of revelation?"

Anthony laughed ruefully. "Yeah, you could definitely say that."

"And?" Ben implored.

"And…we'll see what happens after tonight."

—

Anthony was always meant to do this interview and performance alone. It had been booked months ago. Kate had a scheduling conflict with her family plans, as the date of the taping was the same day as her late father's birthday. However, it was too good of an opportunity to turn down, so she and Benedict encouraged Anthony to do it on his own.

Now, Anthony was thankful for the opportunity to perform without Kate. It was auspicious timing, getting a chance to perform this song for her. Benedict was wary of changing the song choice, especially to something that hadn't even been recorded, let alone released. Anthony didn't fully explain, but he was convincing enough to get Benedict and the label to go along with it.

Now, as the interview was coming to a close, it was almost time for his big swing. Considering the reason Kate wasn't there, Anthony knew it'd be insensitive at best to make sure she'd be watching when the show aired. He knew she'd see it soon, if not tonight.

In the final few minutes of the interview, the host, Lulu, leaned in conspiratorially and said, "So, Anthony, I heard the live performance you're giving us tonight is a bit of a world premiere, eh?" She turned to the audience with raised eyebrows. "Using your band mate's absence as an opportunity to launch your solo career, are you?"

"Oh, absolutely. Can't put all my eggs in one basket." Anthony laughed along with the audience.

"OK, well, I just have one more question. Just for fun. Let’s settle the debate here and now: Which one of you is Lilies and which one of you is Soap?"

Anthony knew he ruminated for much longer than Lulu had expected for such a purposely silly question. Eventually, he responded with absolutely no humour. "It's Kate. They're both Kate. It's all… Kate."

There were a few "aw"s in the audience, but mostly silence. Lulu looked like she was at a bit of a loss after the unexpected answer, but she recovered quickly.

"Well, in that case, we'll just have to see how you do without her, hm?" She was teasing him goodnaturedly, but Anthony couldn’t help but think about how poorly he would do without Kate in his life.

—

The other stage lights were turned down, leaving the spotlight on Anthony alone at the piano. He could make out Benedict in the shadows giving him a supportive nod.

He started playing the opening chords of “Someone to Keep.” He hadn't realised how nervous he was. His hand slipped. He stopped, took a breath, and said "oops" into the mic, eliciting a laugh from the audience, which gave him time to clear his mind and start again.

It went smoothly after that. He really couldn’t have asked for a better performance. What had become a recurring vision of Kate spurred him on. He poured everything he had into every word, every stroke of the keys. And before he knew it, the room had erupted into applause. Lulu came over, gave him a handshake, and turned towards the camera to close out the show.

—

Anthony was high on adrenaline as he stayed after the taping to meet with fans and sign a few autographs. By the time the meet and greet was over, Tom had watched the early, unedited video of the performance LMG requested, and texted Anthony.

Tom (LMG): Fuck, yeah! We're gonna record that shit for sure!

So, apparently the label was happy.

He'd lost count of how many times Benedict patted him on the back. "She's gonna love it," his brother told him.

And all Anthony could do was pray that Benedict was right.

—

Anthony watched the show that night. The family text thread was blowing up during and afterwards. The messages were coming in too fast. Not just from his family, but from his friends and LMG as well. It was too much to even attempt to respond to. He'd get to it tomorrow once they stopped, or at least slowed. When Hyacinth texted, asking what he planned to do once he saw Kate, however, he did feel the need to answer immediately. He said he didn't know and asked everyone on the thread to please not say anything to her until he had a chance to talk to her.

One person who had not reached that night was Kate. He tried not to read into it. She could easily have not seen it yet. Or she did and was processing it. Maybe she didn't even know it was about her. Was that even possible? There was, of course, a fourth possibly. That she saw it, understood the message, and wasn't interested. Anthony didn't want to think about that prospect. They had plans to meet at the studio tomorrow evening. He figured he'd know something by then.

Sleep didn't come easy, but it did come eventually.

—

Anthony was too nervous to do much the next day before it was time to go to the studio.

Benedict texted and asked if Anthony had heard from Kate and if he wanted to hang out before the session.

He declined the offer to meet up, but said he had actually heard from Kate. Anthony had worked up the nerve to call her while she was on the train home. He asked how her stay in Somerset for her father's memorial went. And, to his surprise, she asked how the talk show went. He stammered a bit as he told her it really well, not adding much detail. There were a few beats of silence before he made himself ask if she’d watched it. He was a little relieved when she said she hadn't, but the nerves came back in full force when she said she would before they met tonight. He didn't trust himself to keep it together for much longer, so he ended the call shortly after that, but not before asking if she needed a ride. Kate said she would meet him there, but would appreciate a ride home afterward.

And so, all that was left to do was wait. And hope.

—

"Hey, you OK?" Anthony asked as he greeted Kate with a hug that she leaned into.

"Yeah, it was good seeing everyone, especially Appa and Amma's family from Bengaluru. It's basically the only time I get to see them."

"Yeah, I know. I'm glad it went well."

Anthony was staring at her, the plea for Kate to say something about the interview exceedingly obvious to her.

"Um, shall we get started?" She was almost afraid to watch his reaction. She saw disappointment flash across his features before he smiled softly and nodded.

She followed him into the studio with a heavy sigh.

—

Try as Kate might, it wasn't working out to be a particularly productive session. Her nerves were making it hard for her to look Anthony in the eye and hold a conversation. Anthony seemed distracted, which wasn't surprising at all. She felt a bit silly for thinking they'd be able to work without addressing the elephant in the room, but she wasn't sure she wanted to.

She’d known the plan had been for Anthony to perform "Bane of My Existence," since it was popular, and he provided the main vocals for it anyway. The fact that LMG approved the performance of a brand new song that she hadn't even heard was surprising and made her very curious.

When she watched Anthony's segment during the tailend of her train ride back to London, so many emotions came to the surface. The hope that blossomed scared her, the love she felt warmed her, the ache she could sense in his voice brought her to tears. And the doubt made her pause. What if she had massively misread things?

"Lamb?"

Anthony's voice jostled Kate out of her thoughts.

"Sorry. Yes?"

"It doesn't seem like we're feeling it tonight."

"No, no." Kate sat back down at the piano. "Let's just finish this bit." She started playing the incomplete phrase they had been trying and failing to work on. She could feel Anthony's stare as he slowly moved to sit beside her on the bench. He put his hands on top of hers. She stopped playing and reluctantly met his gaze.

There was silence for a few moments before he spoke, softly. “Why don't you want to talk about it, Lamb?”

There was no point in acting as if she didn't know what he was referring to. It was all she could think about, and apparently it had been the same for him.

"Because I'm not sure what to say. Or what you want me to say. Or what I should say."

Anthony nodded with understanding.

Kate took a big breath.

"Was it for me?" Her voice was small.

—

Anthony was flooded with a sense of relief. She'd gotten the message, even if she needed confirmation that she’d understood it correctly.

He turned to her and looked her in the eye. He wanted to be absolutely clear. "It was it for you, Lamb. Every word. Every note."

"Oh."

Anthony's nerves began to work overtime. He wasn't taking anything for granted, but, judging from what little Benedict had said, Kate felt something, too. Maybe not to the same degree, maybe not exactly the same thing. But Anthony thought he had reason to hope.

"How long?" She asked.

A completely reasonable question to which he didn't have a particularly good answer.

"Now that I know, it feels like it's been a long time. But… Honestly, I didn't realise it until a couple of weeks ago."

Kate said nothing.

"I know how it sounds, Lamb. But I don't know how to explain it. It feels new and it feels like it's been forever."

"I understand, Tony."

"You do?" He felt his heartbeat quicken.

"I went through something similar. A few months ago."

Anthony grabbed her hands and pulled them to his chest.

"Lamb, why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you're my band mate. What we do requires a good relationship between us. Because you're my friend. I love your family. My family loves you."

"Those last few reasons sound like an excellent argument for us to be together, actually." Anthony managed to smirk.

"Tony…"

"What do we do now, Lamb?"

Kate thought about it for a long moment. "Can we go to mine and talk about it?"

Anthony smiled as he cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead.

"Yeah, of course. Let's go."

—

Anthony took a chance and held Kate's hand as they walked down the hall. His chest tightened when he felt Kate intertwine their fingers as they exited the studio–directly into a downpour of rain.

“Fuck!” Kate backed up against the door, underneath the awning.

“The car isn’t far. Let’s just make a run for it.” Anthony tugged on her hand.

She exhaled sharply and moved towards him. A bright flash of lightning and booming thunder had her retreating back inside. Anthony followed.

Kate slumped against the hallway wall before sliding down to the floor. “Fucking pop up storms.”

Anthony sat against the wall opposite Kate, concern written all over his face. “It sounds like it’s right over us. It’ll pass soon.” He pulled out his phone. “Want me to check?”

Kate’s gaze was fixated on the door, but she answered quickly. “Yes.”

After a few moments, Anthony held up the radar image on his screen. “See, Lamb? It won’t be long at all.”

Anthony stared at Kate as she stared at the door. He’d seen her like this several times. He knew she didn’t need help, that this one wasn’t too bad.

After about 10 minutes, Kate turned to Anthony, eyebrows raised. “Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you check?”

“The radar, or can I open the door?”

“The door, please.”

Anthony hopped up and opened the door about a quarter of the way.

“All’s clear. Well, it’s still spitting, but I can see some stars and it’s pretty quiet.” He reached out to Kate. “Shall we, Lamb?”

Kate took a deep breath before getting up and taking Anthony’s hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Anthony put his arm around Kate’s shoulders as the rain misted them on the way to his car. Once they reached it in the otherwise empty car park, Kate leaned against the door as Anthony was moving to open it for her. “Um… Are we getting inside?”

“If I told you I wanted you to kiss me right now, would you think it was because of the storm?”

“Hmm.” Anthony put his hands against the car door on either side of Kate, levelling their gaze. “No, I wouldn’t think that.”

“Why not?” Kate tilted her head.

“You’ve never kissed me after a storm before.” Anthony reached to twirl a lock of Kate’s wet hair around his finger.

“I’ve never kissed you at all.”

Anthony gulped after looking down at her lips, which were dotted with water droplets. "Do you want to change that?"

Kate didn't say at first, just studied his face.

“Tony?”

“Yes, Lamb?” Anthony whispered.

“Please kiss me.”

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elvisgirlforever · 1 year

Text

Raymond's neighbour part 1

She moved in next to one of the most ruthless and gorgeous gangsters know to the streets of London.

I had found a cute town house which was a little bit run down on the out skirts of central London I had immediately took a liking to it when I viewed it with the real estate agent it had this homey feel to it and I started to imagine all the different things I would do to it to truly make it my home so I immediately signed the mortgage for the house it had been months now and the house had been renovated to my liking and I finally moved in.

It had been a month now since I moved in. As I was walking in with my bag of shopping from good old Tesco I layed my eyes upon my neighbours house for the first time it had always slipped my mind but wow was it a magnificent house it had true character I wonder who lived there but that thought only lasted a second as my attention was drawn to the sound of ripping coming from my shitty Tesco bag as milk and eggs splattered all over the floor "fuckkkk" I muttered in pure annoyance to the shity bag as I went inside.

I sighed as I slumped onto the couch getting ready to put on Friday night dinner and eat my microwave pasta I realised I had forgotten the cheese I slowly got up from my comfy position and made my way to the kitchen to get the cheese, whilst in the middle of grating the cheese the sound of two voices conversing outside caught my attention so me being me went outside into the garden and began to eavesdrop on the conversation between the two males, "I love a Barbie" I hear one of the men say "so it heats up your knees and cooks at the same time" he says "you gotta show me how to get one Raymond" that name stayed there for a sec seeping into my soul 'Raymond' then the tone of the conversation changed "well you can take it if you fuck off now fletcher" i realised this isn't something I really should be listening to as I attempted to retreat into my cozy home my back went crashing into an old deck chair which caused me to fall back in a loud crash alerting the men to my presence I heard the one I'm guessing is Raymond usher fletcher back inside "shit great going neighbour" I said to myself.

I finally Built up the courage to knock at Raymonds house and I hope my little mishap yesterday had been forgotten. I walked up the old warn steps to his tall navy door and rang the bell which released a soft ding throughout the rustic styled house "coming" I heard a male voice say,the door opened with a soft creak reveling a tall man with blue eyes glasses a beard and slicked back blonde hair without realising my eyes began to travel down and take his frame in he was built brawd shoulders muscular arms and big hands my mind began to slip to images of his hands around my neck but those thoughts were stopped by a deep voice "hello can I help you?" I then remembered the reason I had came here "hi yes my name is y/n I just moved in next door thought I'd come and introduce myself" I said with a warm smile I noticed Raymond look me down eyes travelling to my low cut dress which exposed my cleavage he cleared his throat and responded "nice to meet you y/n my name is Raymond do you wanna come in for a cuppa just put the kettle on we can get more acquainted" he said eyeing me down once more with dark eyes.

I apologize for the bad grammar as this is my first fanfic hope you all like it and if you give me some input that would be greatly appreciated xxx

#Raymond smith x fm! reader

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shdkfreukdjtshgvfiaurlajsdkddlrd · 2 years

Text

you're mine now Y/n

you've know itto ever since him and his gang ended up at your front door all bruised and beat up keep in mind that you live out far with lot's of slimes mages and Hilichurls. ever since that day they ended up at your front door. itto would never leave you alone every night he would stand guarding your house from anything but every time you tried to reassure him that none bother going here he would be as stubborn as a bull and not budge saying. WELL ME THE ONE AND ONLY ITTO WILL STAY HERE AND THERE ARE BEETLES EVERWERE I HAVE TO MAKE SURE THERE SAFE TO. so every night he would stand there but most of the time you were out there with him usually drinking hot tea and watching the beetles you even made him a little battel ground using tiny Pices of would sand and lot of sweet and tear's and sometimes a little blood and made little ramps. lets' just say when itto saw this he would not let go of you and when you wanted to go to sleep he would still hold you like a child holding their favorite toy now it's the middle of the night and you met a very nice guy there he said he was a merchant he said he came from over seas' to sell you two had a few drink and nonstop laughter he even asked how you got your cryo vison but you never said and just dogged the question and him having to bring you home pretty drunk. hey~~ way is that chickens pop egg's and not rabbits I mean the ester bunny dose~ you say with a hiccup as point at random thing's as the man carrying you laugh's while shaking his head. and I thought y/n you could hold your liquor he says as he carry's you bridal style to your front door and opens it helping you into the living room and placing you on the couch covering you over with a blanket. well I have to leave now y/n see you tomorrow the man say's as he kiss's your hand making you face go pink oblivious to the angry oni standing by the door. he then leaves making itto come out of his hiding spot towards you. OHHH hey itto I did not see you~~ you say while patting the spot beside you so he could sit. Y/n itto says as he looks at you with his face covered in blush. can I hug you. You then smile up at him and say. yea sure come here pretty boy~ you say as you hiccup. itto then suddenly lay's his face in between your chest and putting his arms around your waist as you both lay down you tangling your hands in his hair as one play's with his horns. Hey itto can you tell me something you say as you still focus on him as he Burry's his head deeper. anything y/n what is it. he replies as he rub's your back. do you love me you say. itto then lifts his head up to revel his now completely red face. WHAIT WHAT UMM I itto. stammer's as he tries to process what going on. so you don't like me okay then. you get up and head to the door only for someone to pull you back and pull you in a hug. I NEVER SAID THAT Y/N he said as he sakes your shoulders and start's as he whines. I..I love you y/n you're the best person ever and I would die for you any day if you asked for it I wanted to take you out to get food and maybe get some stuff for you and then I was going to tell you how I feel as we watch two beetles fight in the arena you made. he the grabs the side of your face starring into your eyes as he soon leans in connecting both of your lips together. you don't fight as you wrap you arms around his neck as he lift's your legs and you wrap them around him you both soon part but then kiss again soon deepens the kiss as it ends up in a make out session. I love you y/n your mine now. I love you too my Oni..

#genshin impact #arataki itto #itto x reader #x reader

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bork-of-revel-ation · 2 years

Video

Just tryin’ to have a nice date with the couch, but all people see is:

#shiba inu #dog #dogs being dogs #fuck yo couch #dave chappelle #date night #dogs being weird #couch #privacy please #don't make it weird #seriously human put down the camera ffs #Revel #revelator #reveled eggs #that couch's eggs getting Reveled

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markresonates · 2 years

Text

white lies pt 2

summary: You and Jaemin have always been able to sense when the other is lying or hiding something, but after a sudden accident, your deceptive skills are put to the test: can one of you get away with a little white lie?

➾part 1 (4.6k) | ➾part 3

pairing: med student!Jaemin x ice skater fem!reader

(other in pt 2: Mark)

genre: porn with plot, angst, fluff

trope: bstfrds2lvrs, amnesia, omg there was only ONE BED?!?

word count: +3.8k

a/n: thank you for all the support that part 1 received!

warnings: unprotected sex, oral (fem recieving), sex toys, masturbation, fingering, dom!Jaemin, sub!reader

Much like waking up in the hospital a few days ago, an aroma pulls you from your deep slumber and an inappropriate dream you'd rather not say out loud. Your limbs feel heavy as you fold back the covers of the bed and swing your legs over the edge. You're beckoned by the smell of pancakes and scrambled eggs drifting through the apartment that belongs to that guy that may or may not be your boyfriend. To be fair, making you breakfast in the morning definitely seems like a very boyfriend thing to do. Your feet dangle off the side of the tall, expensive mattress as you collect your scattered thoughts and contemplate the surprising revelation from the night before.

What are the chances that you’d forget something as significant as being in a relationship, especially a relationship with someone as perfect as Jaemin? Perhaps your concussion is worse than you previously imagined it to be when you were discharged yesterday.

Feeling yucky after all your days at the hospital, you resolve to shower before breakfast. You’re sure it’ll be easy enough to find bath towels in his cabinets and work the shower knobs without his instruction. And as for using his bath products, why would any boyfriend mind if their girlfriend were to use his shower products? Exactly. You stand up on wobbly feet and make your way to the bathroom. Along the way, you fish a clean comfortable outfit out of the unorganized duffle bag Jaemin loaned you. You fiddle with the shower knobs until the temperature of the water is just right.

Jaemin is standing in front of the stove, diligently preparing the meal he planned on serving you in bed when he hears the shower start. His itinerary for the day was to 1. make you breakfast, 2. go over to your house and gather your things, and 3. keep you entertained with something like cards or board games since you can’t use electronics or watch anything on a screen. He didn’t expect you’d wake up so early though. Jaemin lets out a defeated sigh because he was hoping to be the one to wake you up and surprise you with breakfast in bed. Not only is he disappointed in his own miscalculation of your sleeping schedule, but he’s worried about whether you might slip on the tile floors of his shower while you’re in there.

You also share his concerns over your safety in the shower. Despite having over a dozen years of ice skating experience under your belt, you question your ability to manage something as simple as balancing in the shower. While you remove your clothes, you decide to keep the bathroom door unlocked as a precaution, just in case you need to holler for his help if you slip.

Slipping your panties down your legs, you notice the wet patch coating the material that formed overnight. You know that the pool of arousal can partially be blamed on the fuzzy dream that you vaguely remember of him bending you over his couch and sinking his hard cock into your slick hole. But there’s no doubt in your mind that the main reason was the seductive stunt he pulled on you before you fell asleep last night. Hovering over your body and barely brushing his soft lips over yours had left you torturously sexually frustrated, and the provocative assertion of “Baby, I don’t think I can be in the same bed as you and not absolutely fucking ruin you,” inspired those tiny, twinkling stars and chirping, blue birds featured in cartoon shows to circle around your head.

Replaying his raspy voice is enough to inspire dirty thoughts this very moment. As you scrub your scalp and lather creamy, citrus body soap over your skin with a hand towel, an aching pang of heat strikes your core. Your body's desperately calling out to you to relieve yourself of the nearly painful sexual frustration that’s built up inside you over the past couple days and the desperate desire hit . It feels like it’s been ages since you pleasured yourself and you’ve never been one to deny yourself of a throbbing release (or a series of them on the days you’re feeling particularly horny).

You stand under the stream of water, washing all the sudsy soap clinging to your clean skin down the drain. Remove the shower head from its plastic hook anchored to the wall, you crank up the intensity of the water speed and carefully lower yourself to the shower floor. You spread your legs and angle the water at your clit. The severe assault on your bundle of nerves forces your body to violently spasm for a moment and immediately rips an involuntary sob from your mouth. You slap a hand over your mouth with wide eyes and pray Jaemin didn’t hear your pleasured response but don’t remove the shower head from it’s rightful place.

The universe pays no attention to your silent pleas, preferring to meddle in human affairs such as this one, so of course your “boyfriend” has to hear the noise loud and clear in the kitchen. Jaemin doesn’t automatically assume it’s related to anything explicit though. Thinking it’s the exact thing he worried about when he first heard the shower water ten minutes ago, he springs away from the last two pancakes still cooking on the griddle to check on you. He takes a deep breath before opening the door hesitantly. Jaemin freezes in place when the bathroom door is pushed open a tiny crack. It’s parted wide enough for him to witness the exact moment you make yourself come with the shower head through his steamy glass doors. You get to your feet slowly and secure the showerhead to the wall again. He watches you pause for a few moments then return to your position on the shower floor. You gingerly graze your middle and ring fingers over your clit and your body jerks from the left over sensitively of the previous orgasm. That oversensitivity doesn’t stop you from softly rubbing your clit, gradually increasing the speed. Your fingers go back and forth between aggressively circling your extremely tingly spot and diving down through your folds. You throw your head back as you slide the fingers of your free hand inside your core, curling up to make your body spasm more erratically. The intense sensation tightening inside your core while you picture Jaemin defiling your body, stretching your hole with every powerful thrust he’d take, ruining you just like he promised yesterday.

Jaemin’s greedy tongue runs over his bottom lip, imagining himself licking up your water speckled thigh until he reaches your glistening folds. He’d lap at your wetness, mouth devouring your juices and ears eating up the sweet moans that he can tell you’re struggling to suppress. His tongue would swirl around your clit as he pumps his fingers in and out of your core like you’re demonstrating before his eyes this very moment. He’d go easy on you in the beginning, but ultimately, he wants you to be desperate for his raw cock inside your pussy. He wishes he had the willpower to wait for the moment you’re begging him to properly fill you up nice and deep before he puts you out of your misery. In the back of his head, he knows that he’s too soft on you to maintain that fake strong front. He’d buckle the second your lips met his, showering you with pleasure and giving in to anything you wanted from him because he believes you deserve the world. Jaemin doesn’t realize right away that he started to palm his growing bulge until he’s completely hard and your face is scrunching up on the verge of your second orgasm of the morning (or as far as he knows is your second orgasm).

The strained knots inside your core finally snap, wound up tightly by your fingers working diligently to trigger your overwhelming climax. Jaemin strokes the outline of his erection through his block joggers as you’re hit with pulsating waves of striking heat. You squeeze your eyes shut, brow furrowing, body twitching uncontrollably, and feeling as if you’re levitating off the ground. Even if you press your lips together to forbid any sounds from escaping your mouth, the tiniest, high pitched whimpers vibrate from the back of your throat and echo through the bathroom. Jaemin studies you closely as you hold onto your overwhelming orgasm with all your might before your body goes limp. You’re in the process of trying to catch your breath, taking shallow breaths and feeling a lightheadedness nearly equal to the moment you first woke up in the hospital when the fire alarm goes off.

Jaemin leaps away from the door, finally smelling his horrible mistake. He races to the smoky kitchen, coughing and waving his hand in front of his face as he gets deeper into cloudy space. He tosses the charcoal black pancakes he forgot about off the griddle and into the sink filled with murky water. The large cutting board he grabs from the drying rack doubles as a fan in his eyes. Before clicking off the fire alarm located around the corner from the kitchen, he spends 10 seconds trying to rid the air of as much smoke as he can, the smoke that’s indirectly bred by his irresponsible culinary negligence and perverted shameful surveillance of you touching yourself. Jaemin’s lucky that the fire alarm isn’t the kind that sprays water or his apartment would be a different kind of wet than what he’s hungry for.

The accidental peeping tom will have to whip up some excuse as to where he was this whole time. He can’t pretend that he's been in the kitchen this whole time or else why would the pancakes have burned? If he were in the living room, he would’ve smelt the smoke earlier and the fire alarms wouldn’t have gone off. Saying he was in his bedroom is risky because it’s like he was right there, possibly raising a red flag in your eyes since you moaned loudly and might suspect he heard it. So basically he has no other choice but to claim he was in the laundry room, yet another critical lie he’ll have to uphold.

He didn’t just gawk at your wet body, bare breasts with hardened, perky nipples, legs spread wide to display your throbbing pussy, oversensitive clit from making yourself come (at least) twice, and gorgeous facial expressions while you experienced intense pleasure, because what sensible person would do such a thing? To secretly watch someone else when they’re stripped of their clothes is abhorrent. But then again, you think he’s your boyfriend… if you would’ve caught him watching you making yourself come in his shower, would you make a big deal of it?

Jaemin’s eyes go wide remembering he left the door open a crack. In a panic, he scribbles “I’ll be back later” on a post it note, swipes his car keys, a large empty camera bag, and the house key you gave him and runs out the door. He’ll deal with that unpredictable situation with you when he gets back from the second task on his itinerary list.

The uneventful drive across town to your house is chalk full of different dirty scenarios featuring your naked body. He doesn’t even need to close his eyes to imagine all of them anymore and his erection is anything but subtle by the time he arrives at your place. Jaemin lets himself in using your house key and quickly goes up to your room. He can hear Haechan and Jeno through the thin walls, the competitive gamers of the household not holding back any aggressive yelling into their headsets. He smiles to himself, satisfied in knowing that his assumption that it would be better for you to stay with him was correct.

Your room is slightly messy. The circular lounge chair in the corner of your room is occupied by a small pile of clothing; your desk is cluttered with pens and pencils of every color; and your low bed is partially covered by academic notebooks and required textbooks that are unreasonably overpriced for college students since a majority of them can’t fucking afford to pay their tuition without owing an arm and a leg of student debt after they graduate.

Being that he’s been in your room loads of times, Jaemin knows where virtually everything is and it doesn’t take him long to accumulate all the necessities of yours he can think of. The only thing left was your bras and underwear. A boyfriend would feel comfortable doing that but then again, even if you basically acknowledged it last night, he’s not really your boyfriend and the little, guilty voice in the back of his head has wormed its way closer to his ear. He hears it so much clearer today than he did the moment he fed you that lie. Regardless of its origin, or whether the guilt is derived from watching you masturbate too, the uncomfortable tickle beneath his skin is growing more noticeable by the minute.

Jaemin pulls open your underwear drawer. He tries not to focus on the lacy patterns of the sexy panties and the cutesy designs on the adorable panties as he’s shoveling handfuls of panties into the camera bag but fails to stop himself from imagining you wearing them, then subsequently sliding the tedious article of clothing down your legs. His hand brushes something hard at the bottom of the drawer, wrapped in a large rash guard and tied around with three swim suit tops. Jaemin doesn’t need to unwrap the hidden item from its protective layering to know that he’s hit the jackpot.

“Fuck… I wonder how much you use this on yourself, y/n,” Jaemin mutters to himself, holding the large, vibrating dildo in his hands. He sticks the sex toy back inside the drawer and covers it up with the remaining elastic shorts, sports bras and swimsuits.

Jaemin closes his eyes and pictures you fucking yourself with it, proding your entrance with the tip, taking deep breaths as you prepare yourself for the stretch and then sinking the sex toy inside your needy, wet pussy. A dozen seconds pass by before he rummages through the drawer, hastily recovering the object you regularly use to fuck yourself and shoving it inside the bag.

Hearing the fire alarm blaring through the apartment prompts you to hurriedly throw on your clothes, ignoring that your body isn’t fully dry. The cotton material of your new clothes soaks up the evidence of your intense shower, creating wet patches that cling to your body. The cold air outside of the steamy safe haven does your patchy shivering body no good but the threat of fire tops the chilling threat of a common cold.

You hear the alarm stop, followed by the front door slamming not 15 second later right before you reach for the door handle of the bathroom. You push the door open and round the corner urgently. The whole apartment reeks of smoke but you’re relieved to find there are no signs of fire.

The rose pink post-it note left on the counter explains why Jaemin is nowhere to be seen although it doesn’t go into detail about where he’s going or why he had to leave only moments after his alarming pancake failure. You serve yourself a plate of eggs and two golden, edible pancakes and sit at the kitchen table. The silence of the empty apartment makes the time creep by slowly. You feel bored out of your mind not having the options to watch anything or use your phone. Looking at the clock above the stove, you identify the time to be when you’d be practicing at the rink and your heart aches, missing the exact place that you hurt your head. You take the painkillers and flop down on the couch in a huff.

Wait a minute… didn’t you close the bathroom door when you were showering?

Hearing a knock at the door distracts your mind from the suspiciously parted door that just occurred to you. You look through the peephole in the front door before swinging it open to welcome the surprise guest inside.

“Hey!” Mark’s eyes light up, greeting you enthusiastically, and pulling you into his warm embrace with one arm. “I was super worried about you, dude. How are you feeling now?”

You giggle at his unexpected excitement. “Well, I’m way better than when I was in the hospital, but please be quieter.”

“Shit, okay. I’m really sorry, y/n,” he whispers into the crook of your neck.

“No worries, Mark, it’s okay.” You pull away, stepping aside to let him into Jaemin’s place. He thrusts a medium sized teddy bear into your hands. “Wow, thank you! You didn’t have to bring me anything. He rubs the back of his neck with a lopsided, bashful smile. “Nah, man, I had to bring you something. Plus I know you’re allergic to, like, every flower in existence.”

“You know what? You and Jaemin are the only people that remembered that.” You look down at the cuddly gift, admiring the considerate present that’s about 2x as big as the stuffed bunny Jaemin got you.

“Seriously? I don’t think I could ever forget that about you. Or, actually, anything about you.” Mark’s eyes scan the apartment over your shoulder. “Speaking of Jaemin, where is he?”

You return to the couch and your close friend plops down beside you. “That’s a good question… that I don’t have an answer for. He left a note saying he’d be back later and took off before I got out of the shower.”

“Damn. What have you been doing all this time then?”

“Nothing. Besides eating breakfast, absolutely nothing.” Mark notices you shivering and gets up to retrieve the knit blanket on the other couch on the opposite side of the living room. You shift the blanket around so that it covers his lap as well.

“Dude, for the record, eating isn’t absolutely nothing,” he teases you and you bump your shoulder into his.

You list off activity restrictions that come along with concussion aftercare on your fingers. “I can’t use anything with a screen, I can’t read anything with small print and I can’t listen to music so, yeah, basically nothing.”

“Man, that fucking sucks, bro, I’m sorry. I guess you’re lucky I'm here to entertain you, right?” he offers awkwardly, compelling you to giggle again.

“Yes, I am very lucky to have you here now.”

A wide smile spreads across his face for a moment. He lurches forward when something occurs to him. “Oh! I was gonna ask you, do you have memory problems? I read about that happening sometimes after, like, really serious head injuries. Do you remember me? Like, uh, the little things about me?”

“Yeah! I feel like I remember everything about you for some reason? But with Jaemin it’s like I forgot nearly everything. Even the really important parts, like how we’re dating. How could I forget that?”

“What?” he squeaks, taken aback. Mark’s face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait, wait, wait, hold dude. Dating? You and Jaemin? Dating? Since when are you-”

Your attention is caught by the faint clicks of the front door unlocking, cutting off Mark’s flabbergasted response. Jaemin’s wide eyes instantly land on Mark lounging on the couch with you, close enough that your knees brush together and his friend could probably count the number of eyelashes you have. Jaemin’s willing to bet the teddy bear you're tightly holding to your chest is a stuffed toy Mark brought over for you.

“Hey, where were you?” you ask, not shifting an inch away from your comfortable position next to Mark. “You burnt the pancakes and took off, like, a minute later.”

Your boyfriend, if that’s what he even is, leaves the front door open a bit for whatever reason. He quickly shuffles across the apartment, stopping when he’s standing in front of you two. “Hi, sweetheart. I went over to your house and picked out some of your stuff.” Holding out the camera bag to you with a forced smile, Jaemin extends a hand down to you as if offering to help you up.

You take his hand but make no effort to get to your feet. “But right after you set off the fire alarm?”

Mark’s eyes zero in on your hands. You don’t notice his jaw drop as Jaemin intertwines your fingers and lightly swings your interlocked hands back and forth, but being that he’s directly in front of your surprised friend, Jaemin does. “Hey, Mark, what are you doing here?” Jaemin questions him.

“Okay, am I invisible or something?”

He blinks a few times before clearing his throat. “Keeping y/n entertained while you were out.”

“Hello?” You squeeze Jaemin’s hand.

You may have forgotten your memory and a handful of details pertaining to Jaemin, but you’re not blind. You can spot the fake smile on his face clear as day. “Well I’m here now, so thanks for stopping by!”

Mark leaves your side, standing up and jerking his head at the front door. “Jaemin, can we talk outside?”

“I don’t know, Mark. I think y/n needs me now and it’s time for her medicine so-”

Snapping your tongue, you tug your hand out of Jaemin’s overly protective one. “I already took it and you’re ignoring me anyways so knock yourselves out. I’m taking a nap.” You give your welcomed guest a quick goodbye hug before heading towards Jaemin's bedroom. “Thank you for the teddy bear, Mark.”

“Wait, baby,” Jaemin calls out but you refuse to look back.

You fling the door closed in a huff and press your ear against the door in an attempt to hear the hushed, secretive conversation.

Jaemin releases a frustrated sigh. “What? What’s there to talk about right now?”

“Baby? Seriously?”

“Yeah? What about it? I’ve always called y/n baby and sweetheart.”

“Jaemin, what did you tell y/n?” Mark asks in a stern voice that you’ve never heard your traditionally bubbly and giggly friend use.

“What do you mean?”

“Fuck. Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Say what? There’s nothing to say here.”

Mark’s voice moves to the front door, becoming slightly more muffled. “God! I talked to y/n, Jaemin. She told me she lost her memories about you… so what did you tell her?”

“Keep your voice down!” Jaemin shushes him.

“See! You’re hiding it yourself! How do you not feel guilty about that?”

“Guilty about what?! I’m not hiding anything!" Jaemin snaps. "I think you should go now.”

“Fine, I’ll go… but dude I'm telling you right now, either you come clean and tell y/n that you’ve been lying to her or I will. It’s your choice, man.”

tag list: @cookydream, @sunshinedhyuck, @cacaubs, @wh0re4yangyang, @multieonnie, @lyleo, @sweetjaemss, @resceluwu, @neocityfile, @marklexleaf, @jaemean, @pukupukupawpau, @carelessshootanonymous, @sleepinghyuck09

could not tag:( @rioderiver, @cry4marklee, @joyyyyycity1, @armylovesmarkrenjunten, @hordanhearsawhooo

kinda surprised i managed to post pt 2 exactly one week after pt 1 bc i seriously didn't think i'd churn out a pt 2 until mid december ? well anyways, happy 1 year anniversary to me ig<3

➾my masterlist

#Jaemin smut #jaemin #nct smut #nct #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream scenarios #jaemin scenarios #jaemin imagines #jaemin fic #nct dream jaemin #nct dream fic #jaemin x reader

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