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#don’t be lasagne
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Two great 12th Doctor lines in a row..
“Don’t be lasagne.”
“I am the Doctor, and this is my spoon.”
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vitalazam · 10 days
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doing this to minutetech cubito in my mind palace
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jasonsmirrorball · 6 months
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making lasagne for dinner do u guys want some
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superbeans89 · 2 years
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This show gets me
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thatbigrungegurl · 5 months
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A shop being able to sell lasagne without garlic bread should be illegal.
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pixiefms · 9 months
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seeing an increase in you ppl being absolutely weird and freaky about fanfic writers and fan artists and we need to like actually become normal about them again very soon
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momotonescreaming · 3 months
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STWG Daily Prompt: Chocolate Covered Strawberries
[Part One]
“Do you think you need a special type of chocolate?” Eddie starts, speaking into the stagnant air of the trailer as he flops down onto the couch. Sends a burst of dust spiralling into the air as the cushions dip under his weight. “To make, like, chocolate covered strawberries or something.”
He cranes his head, hair splayed out around him as he watches Wayne’s reaction. Watches as his uncle lowers the newspaper he was reading, looks over at Eddie from behind the folded pages from his position in his armchair in the corner. Face carefully still as he raises a single eyebrow as if to say how the hell should I know?
Eddie just huffs, rolling his eyes at his uncle, arm draped over the side of the couch as he settles in. He’s tempted to tip himself upside down — pun not intended — hang his head over the side of the couch and kick his legs up in the air. Maybe it would help him think, all the blood rushing to his head. He’d do it, if he wasn’t sure he’d kick over something — a hat, or a mug, or two, or three. “Throw me a bone here, Wayne.”
“I’d say regular chocolate should work just fine.” Wayne says, lowering his eyebrow. Voice gruff, but serious as he gives Eddie an answer. “Just put it in the fridge to keep it cool. Help it set.”
“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, picking at the stray threads of the couch. Running them between his fingers. Plucking and pulling them taut, his voice pitching higher. Tighter. Feeling and sounding a little bit more vulnerable than he intended. “You’re not a chef.”
“Neither are you,” His uncle retorts, face carefully deadpan. And Eddie snorts, the thread of anxiousness he was pulling, now slowly loosening in his chest. “So what bought this on? Dinner with your boy went well I take it?
“So well,” Eddie gushes, smile creeping across his face, cheeks flushing pick at the thought of Steve. At the thought of Wayne calling Steve his boy. He’s sure Wayne can see it from his armchair, looking at him from over the pages of the newspaper. Can almost guarantee it, in fact, if the smile on his uncle’s face is anything to go by. “Steve made us dinner from scratch — lasagne with garlic bread and a wine paring and everything — and it was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten. And not just because he made it for me. He lit candles, and was wearing this navy blue button down that made him look so hot.”
“Boy,” Wayne says, a little exasperated. He’s still smiling. Eddie can see it curling up underneath his beard.
“We listened to music and made ice cream sundaes together for desert,” Eddie continues, smile not leaving his face. His toes curl, and he sort of lets himself shrink into the couch as he talks. Melting into it under thoughts of Steve. “We kissed and slow danced in the kitchen as I helped him do the dishes.”
“And,” Wayne prompts, raising his eyebrow again, but he’s still smiling. He’s happy for him, Eddie knows.
Eddie sighs, letting Wayne look right through him. He always does.
“And if I don’t do something equally romantic in return I’m going to cry,” Eddie whines, playing it up, slumping even further until he’s almost falling off the couch and onto the floor. Locks eyes with Wayne and pouts. He’s being dramatic, but he means it. Steve deserves the best, deserves the romance he’s always wanted and Eddie isn’t quite sure how to give it to him.
“Romance ain’t a competition, boy,” His uncle simply says.
“It is and I’m losing,” Eddie whines, pulling a face as Wayne just laughs. Deep, and warm, and comforting.
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moonstruckme · 6 months
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hi there!! i have a request for youuuu
could you maybe do spencer x bau!reader where the reader is a year clean from self-injury and they have like a little get together with the whole team for it (the original crew, season 2) and everything is happy and okay lol
THANK YOU SM!! i am in need of comfort
Hi lovely! Slight betrayal of the prompt because it's been forever since I watched the show with Gideon instead of Rossi, so I hope that's alright. Thank you for requesting honey, I really hope you're doing well <3
cw: implied past self-harm
Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 1k words
These cooking classes at Rossi’s are becoming a semi-regular event. He always claims it's because every one of you could seriously use the help, but he doesn’t really bother selling the lie to your team of profilers. You all just want to spend time together, and he’s nice enough to host. 
“You’re way too excited.” Amusement livens Spencer’s tone as you practically skip up the steps of Rossi’s too-large house. 
“You’re just jealous,” you say, “that last time Rossi called me his star student and said your gnocchi was as good as mashed potatoes.” 
“They’re not really very different from mashed potatoes,” Spencer mutters, but his hand is fond on the small of your back as he reaches past you to ring the doorbell. 
JJ is the one who comes to the door. “Hi!” She pulls you in for a hug, giving your shoulder blades a happy squeeze. 
“Hi,” you say back, slightly bemused. JJ is a hugger, but usually only on special occasions. You saw her just yesterday. 
Spencer rubs a gentle back-and-forth just below your waist at your confusion, encouraging you through the door. “Hi,” he says. “Did you guys start already? It smells like garlic.” 
“Rossi pre-made garlic knots.” JJ rolls her eyes, leading the way to the kitchen. “He said he didn’t want to give us the chance to botch it.” 
You laugh. “Course he did. At least we won’t all be salivating and trying to eat ingredients this time.” 
“See, she knows exactly what I mean,” Rossi gestures to you as you enter the kitchen. “That’s why you’re my star pupil.” 
You blush at the rare praise, and Prentiss and Morgan both stand. 
“Hey, gorgeous,” Morgan pulls you away from Spencer and into a one-armed hug. You pat him awkwardly on the back. “Glad you came.” 
“Of course I came,” you laugh as Prentiss comes over with a glass of wine. “Thanks, Em.” 
“Cheers.” She clinks the rim of her glass against yours, oddly smiley. You shoot Spencer a look which he very conveniently misses, and suspicion twitches to life in your head. 
“Cheers,” you echo. “So, what’re we making?”
“Lasagna,” Morgan says. “But according to Rossi, it’s extra Italian.” 
“It’s lasagne al forno,” Rossi corrects him, pinching his fingers and bopping his hand up and down with each syllable, and you have to suppress a smile at how completely unironic the gesture is. 
“It’s beef lasagna,” Prentiss simplifies, ignoring the look of offense the old man shoots her way as Garcia comes in the door.
“Hello, hello!” She beelines for you, wrapping you in a tight, warm hug. “Ugh, I’m so proud of you! How are you doing?” 
“I’m good,” you tell her, more and more confident you know what’s going on. “How are you?” 
“I’m amazing.” Garcia releases you but not really, taking one of your hands in both of hers and squeezing. Her eyes are downright twinkly with cheer. “Positively sublime, my friend. Ready to do some cooking!” 
“Same here.” You smile, squeezing back. “I’m just going to go wash my hands really quickly.” 
You don’t have to look behind you to know Spencer is trailing you. He’s hardly left you alone all day, relentless in his doting. You’d thought he was just in one of his more affectionate moods, but now it’s clear why. 
For a few moments, the only sound in the bathroom is the smooth sound of water running out of the faucet. Spencer brushes past you to get to the soap, and you push your long sleeves up so they won’t get wet. “You know what today is?” you ask him.
You can feel him looking at you in the mirror, but you keep your eyes on your hands as you lather soap between your palms. 
“Of course I do,” he says softly. 
“Does everybody know?” 
Spencer rinses his hands, drying them on the towel. “I think so. I didn’t tell them, but I’m sure they remembered the same as I did.” His hand finds the crook of your elbow, thumb damp where it slides over a fine white line just under the edge of your sleeve. The contact isn’t anything special; it’s gentle like all Spencer’s touches, an offhand brush of his skin against yours like there’s nothing wrong with you at all. Your throat clogs unfairly. “It’s an important thing, you know?” 
“For me it is.” Your voice is smaller than you’d like it to be. You stick your hands under the faucet, relishing the feel of the hot water. “I didn’t expect anyone else to remember, though. It’s kind of…I mean, it’s just a year of doing nothing.” 
“It’s not.” Spencer’s palm slides up the length of your arm to your shoulder blade. He rubs between them, quiet until you meet his eyes in the mirror. “It’s not,” he repeats, gently emphatic. “It’s a year of not doing something, and I know it hasn’t been easy for you. It’s an accomplishment, honey. You should get to celebrate.” 
“Wait.” You narrow your eyes, a new suspicion taking root. “Is this…are we here tonight because…” You feel silly for even asking, and your gaze drops back to your hands as you dry them on the towel. “Because of my thing?” 
Spencer shrugs, borderline sheepish. “I mean, not exactly. We did all want to be with you tonight, but everyone knew you wouldn’t want a party or anything. So it’s more…more of an excuse, really.” 
You sigh, turning and resting your head on Spencer’s chest. “How am I supposed to react to that?” you ask him, voice fragile. 
His hand comes to rest on the top of your head, a grounding weight as the other continues rubbing diligently between your shoulders. “You don’t have to,” he says. “You’re allowed to feel any way you need to, everybody knows that. They all just want you to know they’re proud of you.” He slides the hand on your head down to cup your face, working your face away from his chest to look you in the eyes. His smile is small but brimming with an affection too big for words. “You’ve been doing really great, you know that?” 
You laugh a little, pressing your knuckles under your eyes to dry your lashes of tears that never fell. “Thanks, Spence. For everything.” 
“Hey, you did all the work,” he tells you, hand finding its spot on your back again as you lead the way out of the bathroom. “We’re just happy you did it.”
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theostrophywife · 7 months
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kiss with a fist | chapter three.
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masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist
pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: high enough by k. flay.
author's note: we're well on our way. this is a shorter(ish) chapter, but that just means that you might get the next one sooner rather than later. as always, please enjoy the banter and sarcasm.
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Angel’s Trumpet was going to be the death of you. 
You were convinced of it.
The multiple failed attempts to brew the wretched draught hung over you like a pall and followed you into your second week. When Wednesday night finally rolled around, you were in a proper foul mood. You couldn’t even bring yourself to take more than one bite of lasagne, which was usually your favorite. 
Beside you, Luna set the latest copy of the Quibbler down and looked over at you with concern. “Still having trouble with potions?” 
You nodded, sighing in frustration. “It’s this bloody Angel’s Trumpet. I’ve read over the recipe so many times that it’s practically ingrained into my subconscious, but I just can’t seem to get it right.”
Your roommate smiled faintly. “I know,” she said in her breathy voice. “You do come up with some rather creative curses when you’re studying.” 
You smiled sheepishly. “Sorry Loons, have I kept you up with my late night ranting again?” 
“No need to apologize. The wrackspurts are truly doing a number on everyone, not just you. They’re especially rampant during the start of term.” Her dreamy eyes sharpened into something that resembled mischief. “And how are your sessions with Theodore going?” 
The faint smile on your friend’s face told you that she definitely knew more than she let on. Besides you and Theo, Luna was the only person in Hogwarts who knew about your secret little dalliances. She had figured it out rather early on last year when you and Theo kept mysteriously disappearing at the same time. It was a shame that everyone underestimated her. Luna Lovegood was the most astute person you knew. 
You had absolutely no doubt that your secret was just one of many that Luna had uncovered by simply being observant. After all, teenagers weren’t exactly covert even if they were witches and wizards. 
“Miserably,” you finally answered. 
Much to your annoyance, Theo had not let up since the weekend. Day after day, he dragged you into the potions lab with varying disastrous results. Just the other night, the damned cauldron spewed magenta liquid like a geyser, effectively soaking you and Theo in pepto bismol pink like a demented water park ride. No amount of scourgify could wash away the shame. 
Luna laughed. “Pansy said that Theo spent hours scrubbing potion off of his fancy leather shoes.”
“Pansy?” you asked incredulously. “As in, Pansy Parkinson? Since when are you two the best of friends?” 
Your friend shrugged nonchalantly, but you clocked the slight flush in her cheeks. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to replace you. Pansy and I just have a few classes together, that’s all.” 
You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “Is she being nice to you? I swear to Godric if she even says one mean thing I’ll stick a broom up that witch’s ar—“ 
Luna held her palms up. “I appreciate the concern, but I assure you Pansy is very nice.” 
That wasn’t entirely convincing, but you trusted Luna’s judgment. As protective as you were over your friend, you knew that she was perfectly capable of handling herself. 
“I just worry,” you said, patting her shoulder. “Those little serpents have teeth.” 
“Oh, I think you’re more familiar with the Slytherins and their teeth than I am.” 
“Loons!” 
She smiled unapologetically. “Speaking of which, here comes your serpent now and he does look poised to bite.” 
You turned just in time to see Theo marching down the aisle with two of his housemates. The curly headed one, Mattheo Riddle, swaggered on his right and winked at you. Flanking Theo’s left side was Enzo Berkshire, who gave you a polite wave. He was by far the most tolerable out of the lot of them. You wholly ignored Mattheo, but acknowledged Enzo with a nod. 
Theo, on the other hand, you openly glared at. “To what do I owe the displeasure?” 
Every head at the Ravenclaw table turned towards your direction. Though your housemates liked to think they were above the petty drama, Ravenclaws were some of the worst gossips in this school. Three Slytherins walking amongst their midst was as juicy as it got. 
Completely unfazed by the attention, Theo slid in next to you on the bench. “Someone’s got their wand in a twist.” 
You flashed him a saccharine smile. “I’ll twist more than just your wand if you don’t leave me the hell alone, Nott.” 
Mattheo smirked. “Oh, I like her.” 
The glare you shot his way was full of venom. “The feeling is not mutual.” Enzo fought a smile as Mattheo gaped. You ignored the both of them and turned back to Theo. “Who are they supposed to be? Your cronies?” 
“Merlin, she never truly lets up, does she?” exclaimed Riddle. 
Theo grinned. “You have no fucking idea, mate.” His expression faltered when he saw the ire dancing in your eyes. “Right, I know that look. Leave us before she decides to turn you two into toads.” 
The boys reluctantly backed away. Beside you, Luna followed suit but winked behind her shoulder as she left the Great Hall. Luckily, Theo’s back was turned to her. 
“What do you want?” 
“Glory, riches, power. The usual,” he deadpanned. “What do you think I want? I've been waiting for you at the lab for half an hour.” 
“I can’t,” you said dismissively. “Not tonight.” 
“Oh, yes you can. I’m too invested to give up now. I am going to teach you how to brew Angel’s Trumpet even if it kills me.” 
“I’d prefer to skip the brewing and get right to the fun part.” You didn’t even notice that your bantering had stopped every conversation at your table. Everyone watched as you menacingly twirled your wand. “Shall I buy a new dress for your funeral?” 
Theo smirked, seizing your wrist. He lowered his voice and spoke quietly so only you could hear. “I’d rather see you wear my jumper again.” 
“Let go of my hand and I’ll be sure to turn up to your wake donning your beloved jumper.” 
He sighed in frustration. “I’m serious about the draught, diavolina. We’re trying again. Tonight.” 
“Was my last try not humiliating enough?” 
“There’s definitely room for improvement. Avoiding turning the lab into a slip and slide would be my first suggestion.” His mouth quirked in amusement. Prick. “Aside from that, I think I finally figured out the missing ingredient.” 
“And that would be?”
“Relaxation,” Theo answered proudly. “You’re way too uptight and it’s feeding into your magic, hence all the explosions.” 
You scoffed. “You want me to relax? I have literally never relaxed in my entire life. I came out of the womb stressed about taxes.” 
Theo snorted. “That’s exactly why I’m here. Let the expert teach you, sweetheart. Being relaxed means being confident and being confident means success.” 
“You do know that confidence and arrogance are two different things, right?” 
“Do you want to brew the bloody potion or not?” 
The fact that Theo was the one motivating you to do school work was only slightly despairing. “Fine,” you conceded. “Teach me how to relax, oh Great Master.” 
“Tucking that away for names I’d like for you to call me in bed.”
“Pervert.” 
“Don’t slut shame me, Y/N. We all have our kinks.” 
“Great. Mine is committing acts of violence against snarky Slytherins.” 
“This snarky Slytherin rather enjoys your acts of violence. Especially if it involves your smartass mouth on mine.” You flushed in response, which only made Theo smirk in satisfaction. “Now, come. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.” 
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The Astronomy Tower was the last place you expected Theo to take you to. He didn’t really strike you as a stargazing type of guy, but then again, you probably didn’t strike people as the type of girl who slept with her academic rival out of spite. 
Maybe you both had layers. Layers upon fucked up layers. 
The thought almost made you laugh hysterically as you silently watched Theo transfigure his robe into a blanket. He laid it gently across the wooden floor and beckoned you over. “Sit,” he said simply. 
“This is awfully romantic of you. You take a lot of girls up here, Nott?”
“Only uptight little Ravenclaws who’d rather vex me to death than enjoy a stunning view of the stars.”
You snorted. “Sorry to disappoint.” 
He rolled his eyes and patted the spot next to him. “Sit. I won’t ask again.” 
To be fair to Theo (a statement you never thought you’d make), the stars were stunning tonight. You sat cross legged on the blanket and watched as constellations twinkled in the horizon. If you were up here with anyone other than the present company, you might’ve found it rather nice. 
But alas, this was Theo you were talking about. It was only a matter of time before he ruined it somehow. Probably with a lascivious comment. 
“Why are you sitting like you’ve got a stick up your arse?” Bingo. “Even more than usual, I mean.”
“Maybe you’re the stick up my arse.” 
“Don’t joke, darling.” Theo quipped, placing a hand over his chest. “You know I’ve been asking for months.”
“Do not make me push you over that railing, Theodore.”
“Jokes on you, I find your threats incredibly arousing. I’m pitching a tent in my trousers just thinking about it.” 
You rubbed your temples. “How is irritating the shit out of me supposed to be relaxing?”
Theo grinned, reaching into his pocket. “Because, I have this.” 
With a proud smile, he produced a tightly rolled blunt. 
“That’s your big idea?” you asked, wrinkling your nose at the joint. “Taking me to the highest tower in the castle and getting higher than a hippogriff so we can potentially fall down the stairs and break our necks?”
“It’ll help with your nerves.” 
“The only thing wrong with my nerves is that you’re always on them.” 
He smirked, sticking the joint between his lips. “You’re deflecting. What’s the matter, diavolina? Scared to partake in the devil’s lettuce?”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, give it here.” Theo’s eyes widened as you took the joint from his mouth and stuck it in yours. “Well? Are you going to light me up or not?”
He shook his head in mild disbelief before pulling a lighter out of his pocket. You squinted at the silver Zippo, which had initials engraved on the front. The writing was too faded for you to read.
“I got tired of Mattheo stealing my lighters,” he explained. “This way I don’t lose track of it.”
The initials weren’t what surprised you. It was the fact that Theo even had a lighter in the first place. Most wizards just used magic to conjure fire. They certainly didn’t go around carrying muggle inventions in their pockets. It almost made you feel like you were back home in London, bumming a cigarette off some drunk after a night out in the pubs. 
“Why not use incendio?”
Theo shrugged. “An irritating know-it-all once told me that not everything has to involve magic.”
It was strange to hear him echo your words. 
None of it made any sense. Theo would’ve had to venture into a muggle shop to buy that lighter, which was unheard of for a pureblood. Especially not one whose family was part of the now disbanded Sacred Twenty-Eight. The idea of Theo walking around Camden Market to purchase a Zippo was more disorienting than the drugs. 
This little discovery did not line up with what you thought you knew about him. You squinted at him in the dim light, inhaling deeply. The smoke filled your lungs and clouded your senses. Yet one question remained even as you exhaled. 
Who the hell are you, Theodore Nott?
Sensing your gaze, he watched with a small smirk as you passed the joint over to him. It seemed impossible for the drugs to be taking effect so soon, but you found yourself mesmerized as Theo took a long drag. Smoke curled around his mouth as he leaned back on his elbows, tipping his head back to gaze up at the moon. 
“Why the Astronomy Tower?” you asked after a few moments. 
Theo shrugged. “It’s nice up here. Quiet. It helps to get away from the noise.” 
“Strange. I’d become convinced that you sometimes speak just to hear the sound of your own voice.” 
A set of dimples appeared on Theo’s cheeks. On anyone else, it might’ve been endearing. “Close. There’s also the added bonus of annoying you.” 
You didn’t try to stifle your laughter. “Yes, I suppose that sweetens the deal.” 
The two of you sat in silence, passing the joint every so often and quietly contemplating the stars. The absence of noise was jarring. You couldn’t remember the last time that you weren't surrounded by noise. Ravenclaws were a chatty bunch. Whether you were exchanging the newest piece of gossip or bragging about academic achievements, there was always this constant exchange of information. 
Your brain was hardwired to process input. Without it, you felt sort of like a toddler who had just gotten their comfort blanket ripped away from them. 
“Stop fidgeting, Y/N,” Theo commanded with his eyes closed. “You’re supposed to be relaxing.” 
You frowned, picking at your nails. “I don’t think it’s working. Either your drugs are rubbish or my neurosis is canceling it out.” 
He opened one eye lazily. His body language was languid, like he was floating through air. You envied him for it. “Just take a deep breath and empty your mind.” 
“I know that may be easy for someone whose thoughts are typically vacant, but I’m not wired that way. I can’t just turn off my thoughts.” 
Theo sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. He stared at you for a second before his eyes lit up with realization. “Of course. I’m so stupid.” 
“No argument there.” 
He rolled his eyes in response. “I’m trying to get you to relax the Theo way when we should be doing it the Y/N way.” 
“What does that even mean?” 
“Think of the one place in the castle where you feel most at peace.” 
You cocked your head, contemplating. The answer came to you in an instant. “Okay. I’ve got it. What now?” 
Theo rose to his feet and offered you his hand. “Lead the way, diavolina. Show me how the chronically neurotic unwinds.”
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foreverinadais · 9 months
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bad date: j.l
summary: you find yourself on a bad date. in desperation, you call your ex, jake lockley, hoping he can help you. which he does, in ways you never could've bargained for.
warnings: smut (eek), dry humping, kissing, light choking ig??? jake puts his hand around reader's neck, fluff, teasing, reader's date is a twat like he seriously sucks, angst but not with jake, no use of y/n or pronouns :) ~part of the ex! mk series but can be read standalone!!!~
word count: 3.4k
ex!mk series: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)
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It felt wrong to be on a date. Extremely wrong. You felt as though you were being disloyal, despite having no commitments, no one to be disloyal too. The events of a couple of weeks ago were still freshly embedded in your brain. It was as though every time you blinked, you remembered a different detail from your conversation with Marc, or a different look from your car ride with Jake, or a different touch from your comforting of Steven.
You had never been quite so confused.
You almost cancelled the date that had been scheduled for quite some time. But doing that would admit you weren’t over your exes. And admitting that would put all the work you had done in getting over them to shame.
So, you got ready, put on your finest outfit with the glamour you desired, and got a taxi to the restaurant you were meeting him at.
He seemed nice enough over text. You had shared stories, even laughed at his pick up lines. He was handsome in a way which felt… unnatural. You struggled to find attraction to other people after so long denouncing everyone. It felt odd to look at a person, that wasn’t your person, in any way other than politeness.
He had embraced you, even kissed your hand, and you worried as you felt nothing. He had opened the door for you, even pulled your chair out, waiting for you to sit and still… nothing. He was perfectly nice.
Until he started talking.
“I just do not understand the people who say looks mean nothing. I mean, obviously, I am attractive, I know that. And you’re decent looking. We’re attracted to each other, nothing wrong with that.” You cocked an eyebrow, taking a long sip of wine as you hummed.
“Right. I mean, I think appearance is surface level. Other things matter more, like how much you laugh together, your morals… good conversation.” He scoffed, waving over the waiter with just his hand. Ew.
“Should’ve known you would think like that. Crickey, wonder what other opinions you have in that brain of yours?”
“Actually, I have a lot.”
“Right, Would love to hear about those, that’s why I came on this date.” The sarcasm dripped off his words and anger bubbled in your stomach. You opened your mouth to talk when the waiter came over, notepad in hand. “I’ll have the steak -rare- with the potatoes and veg. Gotta get the protein in after a work-out.” You cringed and the waiter shot you a sympathetic look.
“And for you?”
“I’ll have the lasagne, please. With garlic bread.” The man in front of you chuckled, but it felt cold.
“Are you sure? Don’t want to have to kiss you with garlic breath.” Your stomach lurched at the thought of kissing him, but it was by no means a positive feeling. You would rather be sick.
“Make that extra garlic.” You said, and the waiter nodded with a smug, ‘certainly.’
Your date talked at you for the next fifteen minutes. He told you his life story, his career, about his friends and their “absolutely wild times, we go kinda crazy, you probably wouldn’t be able to handle it.” You were relieved when the food came out, so you had a moment of silence.
You wanted to leave. To shout at him, get up, and go. But you knew that wasn’t smart. He seemed like the type to follow you out the restaurant and ridicule you for making a scene, before claiming he was a ‘nice guy’.
You stuffed another piece of garlic bread in your mouth as you attempted to plan your next move. “These potatoes are vile. God, you want something done right, I can’t even eat this.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, instead shrugging.
You had eaten at supersonic speed to rush the date, to get home and snuggle under your covers watching a shitty romcom whilst eating the leftover cake in your fridge. You were relived as he swallowed the last bite of food, putting his cutlery down and sighing deeply. “Well that was a load of shit. The food, I mean, not you, darling.” You almost threw your food back up but managed to keep it down.
“Hmm. Right, should we-”
“Dessert first, right? Not that either of us need it but can’t have a date without something sweet.” The wink he sent you made your whole body curl in disgust. If you had to spend more than thirty seconds more with him, you were sure you’d end up stuffing your ears full of cheese just to never him speak again. This was the worst date you’d ever been on. You weren’t expecting the best date ever, but at least something to distract you from-
The idea hit you all at once.
Pulling out your phone, you pretended to look concerned, opening the one contact you knew would be readily available right now. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” You said as your date just shrugged.
Standing from your chair, you found an empty corner, hitting the call button and desperately holding the phone to your ear. It only took a couple of rings before you heard the familiar, “Yes?”
“Jake, you gotta pick me up. I’ll act like you have an emergency and you need my help or something, and then I’ll hastily leave, and you can get me in your cab and-”
“Woah, woah, slow down. What’s goin’ on? Estas en peligro? Are you in danger?” You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you.
“Nothing like that. I’m just… this is kinda awkward but I’m on a date.” You could imagine him tensing up as his breathing changed slightly. “But it’s terrible and awful and I just, if I spend one more second with him I’ll end up killing someone.” Jake chuckled, and you scoffed. “It isn’t funny! Look, you owe me. And here’s your chance to pay me back like right now. As fast as you can. I don’t care how many laws you break getting here.”
“Relax, Carino. I got in the car when you started talking.” You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat and your heart skip.
“Thanks, Jake. I’ll send you my location.” He hummed, and you hung up, quickly sending the restaurant name before returning to your date.
“I’m so sorry but my friend’s had an emergency. This has been… lovely… though.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I have too, yeah.”
He scoffed, and you noticed a shift in his persona. “Figures. Everyone leaves me.”
“Nonono, it isn’t anything like that! My friend-”
“Likely story. You know, I’m too good for you anyway. You won’t get a date with someone like me again.”
“Well, thank fuck for that. In fact, I’m deleting every dating app I have just to make sure I never do!” It came out before you could bite your tongue, but fuck, it felt good.
“Whatever. Didn’t want to fuck you anyway.”
“Excuse me? That’s all this was? God, you’re such an arsehole! Fuck you, I’m leaving. I’ll pay my half at the till.” He started ranting about something, about how you ‘probably couldn’t afford it’ and how ‘you’re lucky he’s being nice’ but you were already walking away.
You paid for your meal, apologising to the waiter for the arsehole’s rude behaviour, but she just smiled and handed you a piece of dessert in a takeaway box; “It’s on the house.” You smiled, ignoring the shouts from your date as you left the restaurant.
You were beyond grateful to see him. He was wearing his driving gloves, the rough leather ones that you loved. He had got out the car, waiting anxiously to see you. You saw his sigh of relief when he did. You couldn’t help yourself.
You practically ran toward him, watching his face of shock turn to acceptance as you reached his arms. You wrapped an arm around his waist, careful not to drop your food as he engulfed you in a hug. “Hi.” You whispered into his chest, beyond grateful he was there. You knew you could look after yourself. You didn’t need a man to come to your rescue.
But he wasn’t just a man.
Secretly, you were looking for an excuse, any excuse, to call them again.
“That bad, huh?” He said as you pulled away, scanning your face as if he hadn’t seen you in years.
“Worse.” You wanted to convey a serious composure. It had been terrible. But if you didn’t laugh, you’d definitely cry. Jake rose an eyebrow as you began chuckling, covering your mouth to try to contain it. But eventually, it started pouring out, until you were out of breath laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Jake asked but couldn’t help smiling himself. “Huh?”
“It was the worst date ever.” You managed to get out, and even though Jake couldn’t quite understand, your laughter was so contagious, he couldn’t stop himself from joining in. People passing by shot you a few weird looks, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you released your emotions in the healthiest way you had for a while.
Eventually, you calmed down, wiping a tear from under your eye as Jake looked at you in admiration. “Want a ride?” You smiled, glancing back at the restaurant before nodding. Jake opened the door for you as you climbed in the cab.
“We have to stop doing this.” You said as Jake had pulled up to your flat. You had told him every detail about your date from hell, down to what seasoning you had on your food.
Jake had listened neutrally, apart from whenever you mentioned that man. His blood boiled as he thought about you on a date, thought about another man looking at you, making comments about you.
But he ignored the jealously, instead focusing his negative feelings on your date. “He sounds like a fucking asshole. Should’ve gone in there and given him a piece’f my mind.” He had said,gripping the steering wheel, but you brought him down, assuring him you had taken care of it and would be deleting him off every app you had him on.
“Doin’ what?” He asked, and you gestured between the two of you.
“Picking each other up? Calling each other? Seeing each other at all?” Jake nodded, but smirked.
“Almost like we can’t get enough of each other.” He teased and you tried to ignore the effect he had on you.
“Almost like you can’t get enough of me.”
“Ey? How’d ya reach that conclusion? You called us.”
“You called me first! I thought it was just something we did now.”
“Sounds like it’ll become a bad habit.”
“Maybe. But sometimes, I like being bad.”
“I remember.” The air shifted and suddenly, there was too much space between the two of you. You watched as he gulped, watched as the vein in his neck tensed and his lips twisted up in the familiar way they did.
“Thanks for the lift. Again.” You said, chuckling lightly, trying to clear the fog in your mind.
“Right. Anytime.”
“Anytime huh? That’s dangerous.”
“Maybe. But I like danger.”
“I remember.” You teased his words from earlier, and he shot you a small smile. Fuck, you wished he hadn’t looked over; and so did he. You held eye contact a beat longer than you had intended, your heart skipping a beat as his eyes flicked briefly towards your lips. You swallowed harshly, pulling yourself away from the moment, forcing yourself to make a move out of the car. “I should really…” You pointed toward your flat, smiling awkwardly as he nodded.
“Right. You should rest. I’ll see you, well, whenever either of us need a lift.”
You chuckled, nodding, “Well, thanks.”
“Por supuesto, anytime, seriously.” You didn’t want to leave. This felt different from every interaction with them since you had broken up. Something was screaming at you to stay, and you didn’t think it was the remnants of wine left in your system.
No, it was as if an invisible force was willing you to him, to his scent, his warmth, his stupidly attractive smirk. He noticed your hesitation, eyebrow raised in question. “If you’re gonna sit here all night, lemme know so I can turn off the engine.” He teased jokingly, and you forced a laugh.
“ ‘m going now, just… preparing for the cold.” He nodded but didn’t look convinced, amusement lingering in his features. “Okay, ready now!” You felt suddenly embarrassed, deciding to get the inevitability of your leaving over with. “Goodbye, Jake.” You said quietly, sticking your hand out as if to shake his hand.
“You want me too…”
“I don’t know! I thought it was a nice, civil gesture to end this terrible evening with!”
“A handshake…?”
“Fine, it was dumb anyway-” You began, retracting your hand before he grabbed it with his gloved one.
“No, no, c’mon.” He squeezed your palm with his own, and your skin tingled at the contact. The friendly gesture was corrupted in your brain as he shook your joined hands, a smug look on his face at the way your breath hitched. “There, happy now?”
You couldn’t think. Could hardly breath as you shook your head, ‘no’. Because it wasn’t enough. No amount of contact would ever be enough.
You didn’t think about the possible aftermath of your next action. You couldn’t think about anything but him. With zero hesitation, you were shuffling forward in your seat, hands falling on his jacket as you pulled him toward you slightly. Your lips barely grazed his, but it was enough to send your heart soaring.
No sooner than you had done it, you pulled away. It was his move. His cho
Jake looked to your gaze, then down to your lips, repeating the action twice. His eyes were glazed over, and you were sure his mind was reeling, his alters talking over each other, but he couldn’t hear anything apart from your heavy breathing and all he could smell was your perfume-
His hands cupped your cheeks, a small groan leaving his lips before they were on yours. You sighed in content, moving your lips with his as if you had never stopped. Your hands found his hair, tugging on the familiar locks gently as he traced your jaw with his fingers.
You didn’t ever want to stop kissing him. It felt so familiar yet so distant, as if you had only ever dreamt of moments like this. When in reality, you had kissed him thousands of different times. And it all came flooding in to this moment.
Jake pulled back slightly, breathless. You wondered why he had stopped, about to ask when you felt his thumb trace your bottom lip. Your breath hitched as he pulled lightly, your mouth obediently opening for him. He smiled before pulling his own lip between his teeth, eyes dark as he gently pushed his thumb into your mouth.
You made a noise of shock, but quickly pushed it away as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his thumb, inviting him to push further. Jake groaned, almost in disbelief, eyes never leaving yours. “Fuck, baby.” His words were drawn out, like they always were in situations like this. It drove you crazy. “C’mere, need you t’ be closer.” He said, voice husky as he apprehensively removed his thumb from your mouth, quickly silencing your groan of disapproval with his lips.
Jake pulled you over the gearstick, careful you didn’t hurt yourself, not that you cared at all about your safety right now. He sighed in relief as you swung your legs over his lap, straddling him as your arms looped around his shoulders, bringing him impossibly closer. “Relax, Carino, ‘m not goin’ anywhere.” He chuckled against your lips, but you hardly heard as you rolled your hips forward.
His chuckles turned into groans as you found a pace, desperate to feel him against you, everywhere. Jake held onto your waist, helping you move rougher against him, trying to keep kissing you but fuck it felt so good.
You pulled away first, breathing heavy in pleasure as small moans left your lips. Every sound you made only amplified what he was feeling, and he couldn’t help but clash his lips to yours just to swallow them.
“Jake.” You whimpered, and he couldn’t recall a time his name had ever sounded so good. It was euphoric, just hearing you say his name.
“Fuck, baby, you sound ruined, and I’ve barely even touched you.” His words elicited another moan from you as your head fell into his shoulder, hips rolling faster to chase a high you couldn’t reach on your own, or with any other partner you had tried with since them.
Jake squeezed the flesh of your waist, still guiding your movements as his other hand went to the back of your neck. He tugged you up, watching as your bottom lip slipped between your teeth. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. Lemme hear what I do to you.” He pulled your lip out from your teeth, and you let out a broken moan, eyes squeezing shut as his teeth bit possessively at your neck.
“Who’s makin’ you feel this good?” His voice had an edge to it, dark and dirty. It made your thighs clench harder around him.
“You.” You whimpered, eyes rolling back as you felt yourself hurdling closer to the edge.
“Not that prick from your date, huh? Ey, look at me. Who makes you feel like this? Need’ta hear you say my name.”
“You, Jake! Always you!” You practically sobbed, overwhelmed and so, so close. All your senses were heightened, and you couldn’t recall the last time you had felt this level of pleasure. And he hadn’t even touched you yet.
Jake chuckled darkly, his hand slipping up to your neck, squeezing only slightly, but it was enough to send your mind reeling. “Thaaat’s it.” His words were drawn out in arousal. You were at the edge, practically falling off, and Jake could tell. Even after all this time, he could read your body perfectly.
“You can let go, Carino. Let go f’me, c’mon, there you go.” He cooed as you clutched onto him, gasping and repeating his name like a mantra as you reached your peak. Jake kissed your shoulder, stroking at your back as your body shook with aftershocks. “Did so good f’me, baby.” He whispered and you practically melted against him.
The windows were covered in perspiration from the events inside the car, and your heavy breathing filled the car. Jake whispered terms of endearment in your ear as you snuggled into his body. It was hot inside his car, yet somehow, you couldn’t get enough of his heat.
Eventually, you felt strong enough to speak, lifting your head up to face him, skin glowing in a thin layer of sweat and euphoria. Jake’s smiled matched your own as he cupped your cheeks, bringing you in for another kiss. “Wow.” You whispered against his lips, and he chuckled, agreeing.
You stroked the side of his face, tracing the details of his skin with soft fingertips. Jake leaned into your touch, savoring the softness of your actions. Neither of you were thinking about the consequences. And if you were, neither of you cared. Not right now. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. He had almost forgotten that happiness existed outside of you.
“It’s late.” He said suddenly, and you sat up straighter. “You need rest, especially now. I don’t wanna disrupt that.”
“Wait, what? I just kinda figured… you don’t want to come up with me?”
“Well… I thought you were finished.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t get to…” You looked down at his lap, at the prominent issue still there, and you smiled teasingly.  
“Trust me, baby, that was all I needed.”
“But I want to make it up to you.” You innocently ran a hand down his chest, stopping just before his belt and he tensed.
“You don’t have to-”
“I want too. If you want too.” You watched as he tutted, before nodding. “Please?” Your voice was soft but seductive as you ran a hand through his hair, placing a gentle kiss to the side of his jaw, then his cheek, then just next to his lips.
You felt drunk on him and you didn't care about what this could mean. How far it could set you back. You were too far gone, too deep already. You needed him. You always needed him.
Jake groaned, squeezing the flesh of your waist. “Joder eres tan bueno -fuck you’re so good-  when you ask so nicely, how could I ever refuse?”
a/n: i have never written smut before so this was a fun venture into it!!! i promise more parts are coming. i was conflicted on how to do this chapter but it kinda found it's own end. the next one will involve our other two boys yayyy :) i am really enjoying writing this series. thank you so much for reading!!!
tags: @rmoonstoner @marinalor @readingfan @neteyamsluvts @howellatme @nana90azevedo @midgardian-witch @daddyjackfrost
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raineandsky · 2 months
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#101
It’s six in the evening. The villain knows this from the telltale sound of plastic scraping against the wooden floor. The sound is accompanied by the undeniably incredible smell of food.
They don’t bother turning their gaze from the window—they can see the hero in the reflection anyway. They nudge the tray into the room as far as they dare, lingering awkwardly on the threshold for a moment.
“Finding everything okay?” they ask after an unbearably thick silence.
“Found everything but my morality,” the villain retorts flatly. “Keeping me in here won’t make me a goody two-shoes like you, y’know.”
The villain had expected worse; concrete floors, metal bars. But here they are, in a plush bed, looking out to the beautiful scenery beyond, a goddamn lasagne sitting on a plate for them. 
“Was compassion not a good enough reason to have you in here the first three times?” the hero asks, their voice halfway between confused and joking. “I get the impression you like it though, seeing as you haven’t… left this room.”
The villain scoffs. “Escaped, you mean.”
“Left,” the hero corrects. “You’re not… locked in here, you know.”
The villain finally snaps their gaze from the window. The hero flinches slightly at the speed of it. “What?”
“You’re not locked in here.” The hero shifts on their feet restlessly. “Did you never even try the door?”
It’s too embarrassing to admit that it was too nice here to bother trying to leave. “I like to get my escapes right first time. I won’t try it until I need to.”
“Right.” The hero shuffles again. “Well, there’s a lot of villains who know you’re here and have been wondering where you are.”
“Villains like who?”
The hero smiles, like they’ve fallen into a trap. “Come outside and find out.”
The villain scowls at that. The hero raises their eyebrows expectantly. “Eat your food,” they say casually. “Then come say hi, okay?”
“No.”
The hero sighs, like this is a conversation they’ve had a thousand times. “The door’s always open,” they say gently. “Come see the others when you feel up to it.”
They linger in the doorway for a moment but the villain offers no response, so they simply sigh defeatedly and carefully shut the door. 
Tsch. Does the hero think they’re stupid? They’d open that door and heroes would descend on them.
The day they leave this room, it’ll be as part of their greatest escape yet.
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marisatomay · 4 months
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Finally published that lasagna recipe I promised back whenever I last made lasagna
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tmmyhug · 2 years
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i don’t take showers to get clean or relax i take showers to get baked like lasagne
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cherryjuiceblues · 7 months
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maybe demonrry with a knife kink i feel like itd fit his vibe idkkkk
✰ demon!harry suggestive content. knife kink. minors dni. 𝑤𝑐 0.7k ッ vanilla lime masterlist
“What are you makin’?” Y/N leans her cheek against the palm of her hand, elbows digging into the table as she watches Harry’s fingers curl around the knife’s handle. The light bounces from the blade to his rings, glinting as he works nimbly.
“Vegetable lasagne,” he murmurs—unsurprised by her presence. He’d heard the change in her heartbeat, the creak of the sofa, and the shuffling of her feet along the floor. “Can you get me the garlic? Thanks, love.”
She settles her bum against the edge of the table, watching from a distance, gaze still focused on the capability of his hands. “Harry…” 
“Mmm,” he hums—unquestioning.
“Why do you cook?” It’s something she’s wondered before but never asked.
Harry presses the flat edge of the knife against the garlic, squishing until it turns to mush. His forearms flex. “Got a hungry lady to feed, don’t I?”
“Yeah,” she smiles, catching the grin he throws her way. “But… you could just snap your fingers. Why go through all the effort?”
He reaches for a peeled carrot and starts chopping it, and then dicing it. “I’ve had a long time to perfect many different art forms, Bambi… and cooking happens to be one that I enjoy.”
Y/N wonders what other art forms he’s perfected that involve knives and sharp objects alike. What kind of art he could make with that blade right there. “You look good,” she admits, “when you cook.”
Harry laughs at that, “Did y’just compliment me?” He turns to look at her briefly. “What do you want, what are you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” she says—far too abruptly.
“Yes, y’are. C’mon, what is it you’re drooling over now?”
Her jaw drops, “I don’t drool.” She’s insistent, dismayed.
He smiles so knowingly. “Heartbeat gives you away every time, baby.”
He’s being sweet with the pet names; trying to lure her in—break down her walls. Confess, he may as well be whispering into her ear. The knife shimmers like an extension of his own hand. The damage he could inflict, the power he could wield. The fact of her safety despite such facts—heat starts to swarm in Y/N’s abdomen.
Harry’s brain whirs away; silently monitoring the uptick of her heart when he does certain things. Places the knife down, stirs the sauce, peels an onion, picks the knife up, puts it down again.
He smiles to himself. And then he’s in front of Y/N, table screeching slightly against the floor, the knife’s tip pointing underneath her chin. She shrieks and her heart starts to struggle inside of her chest—begs to escape from her ribs. “It couldn’t be this, could it, sweetheart?” Harry’s low voice drips like arousal between her thighs.
Y/N shakes her head. “Be careful with—that!” But it’s a null comment, a pointless suggestion. There’s not a single ounce of genuine fear; just pure adrenaline.
“My little human wants to be carved up, hm?”
“No! God, no,” Y/N exhales, neck straining as far back as it can reach with the way Harry’s thick body presses her into the edge of the table. “Not—not carved,” she swallows.
“Not carved,” Harry repeats, twisting his wrist slowly. Admiring the shape of the blade, the shine of the steel. “But nicked, maybe. Caressed?” He brings it down, tapping the point against her collarbone. She gasps. “Scared. She wants to be scared. Powerless against the bad man with the knife… is that it? Is that…what you want?”
“May—maybe,” she gulps, tongue thick in her mouth—eyes fixed on Harry’s inky ones and lashes desperately fluttering.
“Mm,” he hums, smile nothing short of sadistic. “My little freak of a girl,” blade flattening against her cheek, pushing ever so lightly into the flesh. He holds it there as his stare bores into Y/N’s own—feeling this new game out, testing the waters, bathing in them.
But then it disappears abruptly, and Harry steps back, analysing the knife with faux interest. He turns away from her, rinsing it under the tap before he resumes slicing vegetables. Y/N inhales shakily, pushing herself onto the table with weak muscles.
“Harry,” she whispers—half whine, half whimper.
He looks round with a charming smile, so easily an innocent man once again, “Be a good girl and sit tight,” he says, “I’ll decide if you deserve it.”
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littlespoonevan · 2 days
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fuck it friday
hello no one tagged me but i'm having too much fun writing maddie's pov to buddie over the years so here's a snippet anyway lmao
“And then,” Buck says, for approximately the eighth time in twenty minutes. “Eddie just- pulls the grenade out of the guy’s leg. Like it’s nothing! Like he does this kinda shit every day! Which- I mean, maybe he did? In the army? I don’t know; he didn’t talk much about it.” Maddie feels her eyes go wide and she’s not quite sure if it’s incredulity at Buck’s story or Buck’s whole demeanour. Because he’s somehow gone from bitching about the new guy being cooler than him to beaming in wonder. “That sounds really dangerous,” she says because reaching for her big sister instincts is the easiest response she can think of. “Did you really agree to get in ambulance with him just so he wouldn’t upstage you at work?” Buck pulls a face around a mouthful of lasagne, waving a dismissive hand. “Mads, that’s not the point. Besides, me and Eddie worked things out after that.” She raises an eyebrow. “You did?” “Uh yeah,” Buck says and then, inexplicably, he ducks his head and almost looks bashful. Whiplash would be less disorientating than this conversation. “He called me a badass,” Buck admits, sounding not unlike his nine-year-old self revealing Ashley Gomez called him handsome. “And then he said I could I have his back any day.” “So you’re…good now?” she asks uncertainly. “You two are getting along?” Buck nods eagerly and the beaming grin is back. “Oh yeah. Y’know I think Bobby might’ve even hired him on purpose? I’ve never had a partner at work before.”
tagging (if you want): @mellaithwen @homerforsure @buckactuallys @sibylsleaves @fraddit and anyone who feels like sharing something they're working on!! ✨✨
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priniya · 1 year
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MYSTERY OF LOVE !
kenma kozume’s girlfriend casually walks in on his stream and spends some time with him.
notes: kenma kozume x reader. established relationship, streamer!kenma and reader, kind of tenz and kydae relationship (cus im a simp for them).
taglist (click here to be added!)
“hey, sorry if ‘m interrupting, but you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. want me to make something particular for you or my mom’s lasagne will be okay?” you entered your boyfriend’s office, leaning on the doorway with a worried expression on your face. his eyes shot to you almost immediately, and you could watch his face lightening up upon seeing your silhouette.
“fuck me, it’s been a whole day already?” he asked, tilting his head back by pulling his (a little too long) hair. “whatever you’ll bring me i’d eat with pleasure, love.” a shadow of smile spread over his face as you nodded. “thanks, love you.”
it also turned out that he didn’t mute his stream, and everyone heard his show of affection to you. the whole chat spammed with hearts and awws as you were a common guest on his streams since you were a streamer yourself.
after a few minutes of playing, you walked into the room again, staying off-screen as you handed him the plate with promised lasagne. “don’t you wanna say hi?” he asked, looking at you with a small beam.
it’s been a few months since you revealed your relationship accidentally, there was a glimpse of you, giving your boyfriend a smooch on the lips during one of the irl live-stream of your close friend. the internet had already known you were friends, so announcing that you weren’t only good friends was a hot topic for you two, deciding if you should do it.
“hello chat” you spoke out softly, appearing on the stream with a smile, you could feel kenma’s arm wrap around your waist prior to pulling you to sit on his lap. “wait, have you pulled for nilou on my account already? am telling you chat, this boy is the luckiest one out there.”
“it’s obvious i’m lucky, i have you.” his arm tightened around your waist, as he rested his head on your shoulder, ready for all the edits to flood his twitter timeline. “i haven’t though, do you wanna see how she loses 50/50 with jean?” your boyfriend chuckled, switching the scene so the viewers could only see you.
“stop saying that. i’m gonna off myself if i get another constellation of her. i’m serious chat.” you stated, a serious grimace on your face as kenma logged into your account and switched back the scene when the loading screen appeared. “i’ve been playing on ken’s account lately, yknow farming artifacts for his nilou and gooood, she’s so gorgeous.” you dragged out, shifting on his lap as he opened the wishing window.
viewer kodzuken wished for nilou?? he said she’s shitty
“i didn’t say she’s shitty, i think she’s not worth wishing for.” he answered, making the first ten pull. “yet you still have her in your main party?” you frowned.
“it’s because i know you like her.” he confessed, making you melt internally. you turned your head to face your boyfriend and left a peck on his lips. “you haven’t noticed? i hate playing with the bloop bloop skin in valorant, but it’s your favorite so i always have it on.”
you were about to reply when the game shined with gold. “SHE’S COMING!” you shouted, but then, almost as if your boyfriend cursed it, you saw jean on the screen. “you’re sleeping on the couch today.”
he laughed lowly in respond as he continued to pull on the hydro character’s banner until another gold show on the screen (literally twenty pulls later). “she came home, told you, you’d get her.”
when the stream finally ended, and kenma finally took a break to eat a proper meal besides a few bars of snickers. you sat beside him at the couch, and watch him as he eat. “you should start eating during streams, baby. i’m getting worried.” you muttered, resting your head on his shoulder with a sigh. “almost a ten hours long stream and you ate three snickers and drink at least four energy drinks, ‘s not healthy at all.”
“i’m sorry, love. i’ll set myself a reminder, okay? don’t your pretty head worry.”
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